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#get to. But uh. The scale I bought to use at college when I was losing weight so fast is uh. Right next to the bathroom door downstairs.
wanderingandfound · 1 year
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Weight talk below the cut.
If that scale is right I have gained 30 pounds in two months.
I used to weigh myself regularly but I stopped when I finished college so like.... I don't have more data than that. Like I'm sure this has to do with like, the fact that now I am off my meds I am always hungry and cannot get enough chocolate, but I don't know if that measurement from the doctor's office two months ago was a particularly low one, you know? Because the the previous (higher) data point is from July.
Well, I wonder if this means I can postpone going clothes shopping (my clothes are literally falling apart) by digging out clothes from pre-weight-loss.
I feel like 267 has got to be wrong, because pre-weight-loss my stable weight was 273, which is basically the same for all intents and purposes. But the size 20 jeans I took out of my pile of size 22 jeans a year or so ago are still too big to actually exist in public in, so the 22 jeans must be bigger right? But the jeans I've been wearing for like two years and are falling apart are size 18.
I should probably postpone shopping until my weight stabilizes. No big deal, I hate clothes shopping with a burning passion. But because I haven't been weighing myself, I have no idea what the curve on this data trend looks like.
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neonacity · 3 years
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HYACINTHE | Chapter 1: Jaemin x Reader
Summary:
Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones.
Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul's top organized crime family normal.
There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word.
So why, then, does he always find himself in the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?
A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.
PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader
BLACK DAISIES MASTERLIST
___________________________________________________________
I've known him for almost a year and a half when it happened. 
The small bell of the cafe's back door dinged so hard, I thought it would get ripped off from the wall. I looked up, eyes wide with panic and hands still wrapped around the cold corners of a metal tray when a head of jet black hair appeared on the entrance. It took me half a second to register what I was seeing before I found myself flying to his side in a heartbeat. 
"Jaemin! Oh my god, what the hell is going on!"
My first thought was that he was injured. He was doubled over and I quickly hunched to his level so that I could peer at his face. He looked paler than usual, beads of sweat stuck on his forehead, eyes glazed with a slight look of panic as he tried to keep himself from falling over. I threw out my hands to hold him by the shoulders and that's when my gaze caught it; the small black package that he quickly tried to hide inside his bomber jacket before I could even fully see what it is. I didn't give it much attention back then—I was far too focused in trying to see if he was hurt anywhere to worry about anything else. When his gaze finally focused on me, I thought I saw guilt there.  
"I need your help. Sorry, I don't know where else to go."
My brows furrowed together. 
"What the hell is going on—"
He reached out for one of my hands helping him up and squeezed it tight. 
"Please don't ask me questions. Just—can you trust me?" 
"I don't understand—" my voice started to rise. Is he hurt? Bleeding? In pain? 
"Please."
My lips parted then pursed again. 
"Okay."
Jaemin tugged me closer to him and threw a panicked look outside. He then pulled me farther into the now closed cafe, back into the storage room, the location of which he shouldn't even know in the first place. 
"Let me hide here for a bit. Just a bit."
That encounter was my second mistake since meeting Na Jaemin. 
I should have asked questions. 
Lots of them. 
___________________________________________________________
The first mistake happened about a year and half ago. 
"Welcome to Brick and Beans, what would you like to have today?"
I plastered on my practiced smile and looked at the stranger in front of me without actually looking at him. Working in the service industry sure does things to your head once you get used to it. Despite having to deal with people all the time, you also get to develop a kind of numbness and detachment to human interaction. A face just becomes a face, a customer simply becomes just another passing responsibility. I tried to blink a few times to make myself seem more interested on the boy standing in front of my counter, patiently waiting for him to give me his order so we can go ahead and get on with both our business. 
"Uh… I'll have an iced americano. No water. Eight shots of espresso."
My lips parted and curled on the sides to give him my service smile. My hand automatically reached out for the plastic cups stacked on my side while my other whipped out the marker clipped on the pocket of my apron to scribble his order. 
"That's one iced americano, no water, eight—"
I stopped and blinked once. Twice. My gaze shot up at the customer in front of me again and really looked at him for the first time.
"I'm sorry, that's eight shots of espresso?"
He nodded, seemingly unbothered by my question. 
"No water?"
A slight shake of the head. 
"...eight shots. Of espresso."
"Eight shots, yes." 
For a moment we both just stared at each other. He was looking at me patiently, probably only slightly weirded out by my question while I gave him a look that's a mix of worry and disbelief. Working as a barista has exposed me to my own fair share of weird coffee requests, but this is by far the one that takes the cake. 
I softly cleared my throat and turned my attention back to the words I was scribbling on the cup. As strange as it is, I really am not in the position to judge a customer. 
"That'll be 4.50 dollars. Is that for here?"
"Make it to go." 
"Got it. I'll get you your order soon…"
"Jaem." 
I smiled and scribbled his name on the cup. 
Foot traffic was pretty slow on the cafe so I was able to quickly finish the order on autopilot. As I worked on mixing, I found myself humming softly to myself, my tune shifting into short whistles every time I would dunk an espresso shot down into that cup. I didn't even realize that the customer didn't bother taking a seat on one of the empty tables, opting to lean on the wall by the side instead, hands shoved in the pockets of his jogs as his eyes followed me. 
"One iced americano for Jaem," I called out and pushed the packed drink into his hand. He handed me his card and I quickly worked on swiping it. 
"You sure like your coffee explosive, huh?" I shot him a question for the sake of making small talk as I punched some buttons on my terminal. 
"It's the eight shots, isn't it?"
I answered by giving him a shrug and a smile.
"It's the first time I ever did one like it. I can only imagine how it tastes like."
His lips slightly quirked into a smile. A...really cute smile if I might add.  
"Is there anything wrong?"
"It's really good." 
"Sure, Jaem. I'm not here to judge," I gave him a wink before handing back his card and receipt. "Well, thank you for dropping by. We hope to see you here again." He took both wordlessly and slipped them on his wallet. 
I was waiting for him to walk off with his drink with the practiced polite smile plastered on my face again. He turned, coffee in hand, took about five steps, before turning to me again. I blinked in mild confusion as he placed his cup back on my counter. 
"Actually… I'll have it here." 
___________________________________________________________
"I'm not going to try your death coffee, Jaemin." 
I didn't look up from the page I was reading but I could feel it, that deadly pout and puppy eyes combo drilling onto the side of my head. I flipped a page of my textbook over and I heard a sigh come from the boy beside me. 
"I bought it for you. You said you need to finish a paper tonight."
"I do. That doesn't require me to be awake for the next week and a half," I answered back with a quirk of my lips as I finally looked up to meet his gaze. We were seated at one of the far tables of the cafe for my 15 minute break, away from the handful of customers scattered on the smattering of tables and high chairs. This has become quite a routine already… but how it started, I can't really explain.
Ever since that first order, Jaemin had made it his routine to drop by almost regularly. At first the banter started similar to how a regular customer and his favorite barista would have, but since he would always come and visit during slow hours, we would always have more time for longer conversations. Casual talk turned into light-hearted jokes, and finally into a kind of banter that comes with familiarity with each other. Slowly, I came to know the complexities of Na Jaemin, and boy, is he an enigma and a paradox rolled in one. 
You never really know what to expect with him. There are days when he would be a bursting ball of energy—most of the time when he would order his drink from hell—but there are also moments when he would be quiet and reserved. I found it odd at first, but slowly accepted it since it didn't really hurt me in the first place. In fact, if I am going to be completely honest, I find this kind of personality set working for me. Imagine gaining two friends, except they're only in one body. 
But that's not the only odd thing in our dynamic, too. If someone would ask me now to describe the kind of friendship I have with him, I wouldn't really know how to explain it. We joke together, laugh together, sometimes even tease the crap out of each other like we've known each other for years. We work well together, but at the same time… I know almost next to nothing about him. I don't know his address, who his other friends are, if he's going to school or not… hell, I don't even know what his number is. Outside of this cafe and his regular visits, I don't have anything to prove that he actually exists. He didn't share, and I also didn't ask. 
Until today.
"Fine. I'm just going to drink this then."
I gasped before shooting him a squinted glare. 
"You are going to burn a hole in your stomach, I swear to god—"
He simply shrugged and made a huge show of sipping the previously untouched tears of Lucifer. 
I reached out to tug at the hood of his jacket in an attempt to call him out when I noticed it. His hair was initially masking it at first but now I could see it in full view: a purple bruise just on the side of his eye, almost to his temple.
"Oh my god, Jaemin. What happened?" I asked in a hurry as I tried to take a closer look at it. His expression changed in a heartbeat as he realized what I saw and he quickly leaned back and pulled the hoodie again over his head. 
"That's—it's nothing." 
"It looks so bad. How did you get that?"
He didn't answer. His eyes avoided my own and his hand gripped the plastic cup between us a little bit tighter. 
"Did you get into a fight?" I pushed, gently this time. 
His gaze moved to meet mine again for a few seconds. It's obvious he was contemplating what and how to answer. 
"Yeah… I got into a bit of a tumble with some friends."
I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back on my seat. He threw me a look that silently asked what else I want from him.
"Look. You don't tell me shit but at least I know enough to be sure you are lying."
Jaemin looked away and started tapping his finger against the table. 
"Why are you… why do you even want to know?"
I looked at him incredulously for a few seconds before leaning over. 
"Because you're my friend and I want to make sure you are okay."
"I am okay."
"Your black eye says otherwise."
"Come on, don't push this. Can't we be friends without," he waved his hand between us. "This?"
"Jaemin, I don't even know who you are."
That made him stop. He stared at me for what felt like a full half minute and that's when I saw it for the first time. The dilemma in his eyes. 
"It was because of work…" 
The look of confusion I made must have been so intense that he quickly tried to jump over it.
"Work—why, what do you—"
"I'm sorry, but that's really all that I can tell you." 
The sound of desperation in his tone wasn't lost on me. He looked so torn that I felt almost guilty for pressing.
"Fine… I won't ask again… As long as you are sure you're fine."
He peered at me once more as if assessing if he was finally off the hook. 
"So...we're still friends?"
"Huh?"
"You and me… we're still friends?"
"Uh, yes…" 
The look of relief on his face made me smile despite myself. He caught it and he made it a point to answer it with his best eye roll. 
"Don't laugh at me. I don't know how to do friends."
"You're so cute~"
"Shut up."
And that was the exact day I decided—I'm never going to let Na Jaemin feel alone again. 
Chapter 2
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thebigbadbatswife · 3 years
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The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - All Hallows’ Eve
Summary - When her friends dragged her to Gotham’s old cemetery for some Halloween ghost hunting fun, Y/N really didn’t think her life would end up changing like this.
Chapter Warnings - referenced/implied character death
Word Count - 3.3k
The cell phone on your nightstand buzzed incessantly as your friends continued to spam your messages. They had been doing so for the past hour or so. You were surprised that the damn thing hadn’t vibrated off of the nightstand yet. When it finally stopped, when you finally thought they had given up, you returned your attention to the document you had open on your laptop. Just as you were about to start typing again, your phone resumed its buzzing.
Huffing, you shut your laptop’s lid, placed it on the bed next to you, reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Over eighty messages both from your friends individually and within the group chat, begging you to come along with them to the old cemetery that sat outside of town. They wanted to go because it was Halloween and that meant it was the best time to go ghost hunting! And they wanted you to go along because of how you were usually drawn to this type of stuff. As well as how this type of stuff was also usually drawn to you.
Come on! For old time’s sake? Plus we’re going to have a much better chance at actually catching something if you come along!
The message was from your friend John, the ringleader of your group. The reason you and your friends had always gotten into trouble at school. Now he was trying to work his magic once again.
Only because I’m a meta with an uncomfortably close relationship with death…
As far as you knew, your powers were genetic instead of being caused by that arc reactor explosion that had given a lot of metas their powers. You were able to look past the “Veil”, as it was called, and see and interact with spirits on the other side. Not that you did so often or even liked to do. It creeped you out and you sometimes saw things that would certainly traumatize most people if they saw them. Not to mention the strain on your body and mind each time you did it. 
Why the obsession with the old cemetery now?
It had been years since John had mentioned ghost hunting, let alone the old cemetery. Back during your last year of high school, it had been all John could talk about. He was convinced that it was where the “cool” ghosts would be hanging out. None of you had ever actually gone because your last year had passed surprisingly quickly and before you all knew it, you were all moving to different parts of the country for college. In all that time it had never been mentioned again. Until now.
Ha! She finally replies! I knew you wouldn’t leave us to scream into the void forever!
The next message was from Tom, your oldest friend. Unlike the others, you two had known each other since kindergarten. If anyone was capable of talking you into going, it was probably him.
It’s been years since all of us were in the same place at the same time! Not to mention it’s Halloween and a full moon! I don’t think it could be more perfect!
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.
You know you want to come! And don’t you dare lie!
He wasn’t wrong about that either. You were a little curious. The cemetery was on the outskirts of Gotham City. According to the internet, the cemetery had members of Gotham’s oldest families buried there. If you were to use your powers there to look past the Veil, there was a chance some of those people could still be hanging around. It would certainly be an unique opportunity to converse with them and, perhaps, attempt to help move on. Or maybe you would find inspiration for your next short ghost story. You certainly had been struggling with inspiration recently so maybe this was exactly what you needed.
Okay! Fine! I’ll come!
You scoffed as you hit ‘send’. Once again, Tom had talked you into joining them. A small part of you was convinced he was a meta with some sort of manipulation power.  
That’s great! ‘Cause we’re already outside your house!
John replied, causing you to roll your eyes. Of course they were already outside. Why wouldn’t they be?
You locked your phone, got up from your bed and slipped your phone into your pocket. You grabbed your jacket from your wardrobe and made your way out of your bedroom and down the stairs. You grabbed your keys from the bowl on the table, near the front door.
“Y/N? Where are you going at this hour sweetheart?” your grandma called from the living room.
“I’m going to meet up with some old friends. I’ll be back soon!” you replied. You didn’t tell her where you guys were going since you knew she would most definitely disapprove.
“Stay safe!”
“Will do!”
After your parents’ death, your grandma had not only raised you, but helped you learn how to use your abilities so that, should you choose to, you’d be able to use them. Not that she would approve of you constantly using them. Looking through the Veil could sometimes draw the attention of extremely unwanted creatures that were looking for a route to the physical world. You knew how to defend yourself from them, but that didn’t mean you really wanted to get into that situation to begin with. If you were going to use your abilities tonight, you were going to have to be extremely careful.
The entire drive there, your friends excitedly talked about what they could potentially capture on either video or audio. John was driving, Tom sat in the passenger seat next to him and you were sitting in the back with Rebecca.
A couple of hours later and the car finally pulled up in front of the cemetery. John turned off the engine and you all got out. Since it was pretty much pitch black out here, you all got out your phones and turned on your flashlights.
Tall stone walls covered in moss and vines surrounded the cemetery and an old rusted iron gate stopped the car from going any further. Threaded through the bars of the gate was large rusted chain with an equally rusted padlock. Even if you guys had the key, you seriously doubted it would have worked anyway.
“Are you kidding me?” asked Tom, as he useless pulled against the chain. “This is so unfair!”
“Uh, maybe we could try to scale the walls or something?” Rebecca suggested as she walked over to where the vines seemed at their thickest. She gave them a gentle tug. “Looks like it might hold our weight, if we go up one by one.”
Tom shook his head. “And get covered in spiders? Yeah, no thanks!”
Rebecca frowned as she used her phone’s light to have a closer look at the vines. “I can’t see any spiders.”
“That’s because you’re not looking in the right spots,” he replied as he walked over to her. He shone his own light up at the vines.
While you walked over to them, to get a better look at what Tom was trying to show her, John shook his head and walked back toward the car.
“See all of those tiny turquoise dots shinning back at us?” he asked her as he pointed above where there were a lot of tiny turquoise dots sparkling in the light.
“Yeah, they’re like little drops of moisture right?”
“You would think, but they’re not! Those are the eyes of all those horrid little spiders!”
Rebecca squealed and immediately backed away from the wall. “Tom! Why the fuck would you tell me that! Fuck! There’s probably going to be so many of them inside the actual cemetery! And now I know how to spot them!”
“I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue considering we can’t get in anyway,” you said as you gestured toward the very locked gate. This whole thing was starting to feel like a massive waste of time.
“Oh! But we can!” John announced as he strode on over to you three with a large pair of bolt cutters in hand. He also had a backpack slung over his shoulder. As he cut the chain, John explained how he had swung by here earlier to see if there was anything that would stop you lot from getting in. When he saw the chain, he had gone to the hardware store, that was located in the worst part of the city, and bought these. “Only place I could find that had bolt cutters big enough for a chain like this!”
“Aren’t we like breaking the law or something right now?” Rebecca asked just as the cutters snipped through the chain and it clanged against the gate.
“Probably,” John replied very nonchalantly. “But we’re pretty much committed at this point now. Besides, look at this place! No one’s been here in years! I seriously doubt we’re going to get caught.”
The iron gate creaked loudly as it was pushed open and you all headed inside. The others walked ahead while you trailed behind. The way they were talking, discussing who was buried here and therefor who they could potentially “contact”, made you feel like you had time-travelled back to high school.
When you all got to the centre of the cemetery, John took the backpack off and opened it. It was filled with all sorts of equipment that was used in modern day ghost hunting. Voice recorders, emf meters, even a couple of high end night vision cameras. Damn, he had really gone all out for this. After the gear had been handed out, John began to give everyone directions as to where they were off to investigate.
Tom and Rebecca were going to be investigating the southwest of the cemetery, which was the newest part, John was headed up to the north, where some mausoleums were shaded by an old willow tree and you:
“And Y/N, you get the oldest part of the cemetery which is toward the east!”
“Right, of course, send the meta to the creepiest part of this place,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.
“Well, you said it, not me! Good luck and we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours,” John replied. With that, you all split up and went your separate ways.
The cemetery was vastly overgrown. Most of the headstones were buried beneath the long unruly grass, brambles and vines. Every now and then your flashlight would catch a glimpse of the grey stone underneath. You also caught more glimpses of those glowing spider eyes and were doing your best to ignore them. You really hated Tom sometimes.
Thanks to all of the plants, you could barely see the path. The only thing that indicated you were walking on one was every now and then you could feel a stone slab shift underneath your feet.
The further east you walked, the darker and darker the cemetery seemed to get. It also seemed to get creepier and creepier, which was strange to you because you never really found cemeteries creepy. Instead you had always found them peaceful. A lot of people found you weird for that. There was also the feeling that something was watching you. The uneasiness that came along with that feeling was enough to prevent you from using either your recorder or your abilities. If there really was something watching you, you got the feeling that the last thing you wanted to do was attract its attention. After all, who knew what truly lurked here? Especially on the other side.
You eventually reached a group of mausoleums. Much like the rest of the cemetery, they were covered in bramble, vines and other plantlife. They were tall and the parts of them you could see, you could tell were certainly made of far more expensive stone than the rest of the place. This wasn’t just the oldest part, this was also the richest part.
You approached a few of the mausoleums and managed to clear away some of the plants covering the name plates. The majority of the names had been erased due to the elements, but not all of them. The names that were still readable were also names you recognised. Kane, Elliot, Crowne. Three of the First Families of Gotham.
You were about to approach another when you saw something large and black move, out of the corner of your eye. You spun around and shone your flashlight in the direction of the shadow, but there was nothing there.
“Hello?” you called out, which was probably a terrible idea, but it was the only thing you could think of doing. “Who’s there?” You waited for a reply, but no reply came.
Was your nerves making you see things? It couldn’t be a spirit; you weren’t using your powers. Unless… Throughout your life you had heard of non metas who had “seen” things in their peripheral vision. Sometimes they were spirits that had briefly broken through the Veil, other times it really was just people imagining things. Until now you had never experienced it before and you hated how impossible it was to tell which one it was.  
Turning on your phone’s screen, you looked at the time. You still had an hour before you had to head back to meet back up with the others. Turning the screen off again, you looked back in the direction you had seen the shadow move toward. Did you follow? It sounded like an awful idea, but the only other thing you could do was head back early and then wait around for everyone else, and that sounded incredibly boring.
‘ Okay, guess I’m doing this then,’ you thought as you began to head down the path, in the direction the shadow had gone.
You had previously thought that there was no way this cemetery could be anymore overgrown than it already was. This new part you were now walking through proved you wrong. Extremely wrong.
Branches hanging low off of trees and thorns from the brambles tugged at your clothing as you passed them. You had to keep an extra careful eye out on where you were stepping so that you didn’t trip over and injure yourself. There were more mausoleums, but you could barely make their shapes out through all of the greenery.
As you walked, that feeling that something was watching you increased tenfold and you found yourself constantly glancing back. Each time you looked you were met with the same result. There was nothing there.
‘ It’s just my overactive imagination ,’ you told yourself, but that did nothing to soothe your growing fear. What if the thing you had seen had been an actual person? And not a good person at that. This was Gotham after all and for some reason Halloween was when most, if not all, the psychopaths suddenly came out to play. Were you about to become another notch in some serial killer’s knife hilt? Oh, you really hoped not. That was not how you wanted to go.
Before your mind could lead you down a dark path of all the vivid ways you could be brutally murdered right now, the path came to an end. At the end of it sat a lone mausoleum. This one didn’t look nearly as old as the others nor was it as covered in plants like the rest. As you walked over to it you saw one of the large iron doors had fallen off its hinges and now laid on the ground.
Cautiously, you approached the entrance. When you were close enough, you shone your light on the name plate. The name ‘Wayne’ was engraved on to it. You got a feeling that that was somehow important, but you really didn’t know why. Nor why you were so drawn to it. Almost as if you were now on autopilot, you stepped inside the mausoleum.
The first two names you saw were Martha and Thomas Wayne. Even years after their deaths, you knew the names well. Before their untimely deaths they had been trying to use their fortune to help the city and its more vulnerable citizens.
The next name you saw, you didn’t recognise. Jason Peter Todd. You were shocked when you saw his death date. “Fuck, you were barely sixteen years old,” you whispered. That was... that was not fair at all.
The last name was Bruce Wayne. It stood out to you a lot more than the others had. Almost as if it was…. Glowing? What? That made no sense. Okay, you were definitely just seeing things now. To prove that to yourself, you turned your flashlight off. The name continued to glow, in fact now it was a hell of a lot brighter.
“What the fuck?”
You peered closer to see if there was any small lights or something similar causing it to glow, but there wasn’t anything. The name was actually glowing! Freaked out, you took a picture of it (without the flash of course), and sent it to Tom. A few agonising minutes passed before he finally replied.
Why are you sending me a completely black photo?
What? You checked the picture you had sent and, yeah, the name was definitely visible.
Can’t you see the glowing name?
If Tom couldn’t see it, then what did that mean?
What are you on about? There’s nothing there. Are you okay?
Was this somehow related to your powers? Is that why Tom wasn’t able to see it? If that was the case, and with each passing second it seemed to be, then he or the others couldn’t help.
Yeah, I’m fine. Nevermind.
Sighing, you checked the time before you shut off you phone and slipped it into your pocket. Thirty minutes before you had to head back. You were on your own. If this was related to your powers then what exactly did you do with it? Your grandma had never mentioned anything like this before, so you had no clue. You still felt uneasy and this new discovery had done nothing to help so you really didn’t want to peer through the Veil, unless it was absolutely necessary.
Would anything happen if you reached out and touched it? You sometimes got flashes of memories or feelings when you touched some items. Maybe this could be the same? You supposed the only way to find out would be to touch the stone. Cautiously you reached out and pressed the palm of your hand against the cold stone.
Images flashed through your mind. Movie tickets, a pearl necklace, a gun. There was the sound of the gun firing, a child’s blood chilling scream and the loud wailing of police sirens. Then it was over and you were brought back to reality, with far more questions than you had previously started with.
Before you were able to question or make sense of what you had seen, your phone vibrated. Taking it out, you saw a text from John, as well as several others.
Are you nearly here?
We were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago. Where are you?
Did your phone die?
It did, didn’t it. Unless you’re currently doing one of your meta things?
So what had simply been mere seconds for you in reality had been forty five minutes for everyone else. Which wasn’t all that unusual for you, but could certainly make people that didn’t deal with it daily worry. With that in mind, you fingers flew across your keyboard as you typed out your reply.
Yeah, meta thing, sorry. I’m on my way back now.
You turned your flashlight back on and walked back to the entrance. Before leaving, you looked back to where the glowing of Bruce Wayne’s name was now slowly fading away. Whoever he had been, he was asking for your help. You were sure of it and that’s exactly what you were going to do.
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bitchfitch · 3 years
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Aleistar and Haze with grey to multi-coloured? :O (i am just really fond of the grey to multi-colored for some reason)
this one was just Sweet, Tooth Rotting, just Absolutely Delectable and it has Killed me.
zjsnnsnsns thank you for the prompt!
A Blue Armchair
There was a blue armchair in Aleistar's living room. It was his chair, more sonthan any of the others in his home. It was where he had gone to relax and read or to watch the city far below from his window for almost a decade now. A home within a home.
It was a blue armchair, but he only knew it was blue because the clerk at the furniture store had assured him it was blue when he bought it.
Aleistar had never really bemoaned the lack of color in his life. As far as he was concerned color didn't matter. Simply put, he'd never once in his 56 years of life seen color, so he couldn't exactly miss it. Couldn't morn it, or really notice that it wasnt there. He knew he was lacking color, of course he did, he saw it in the art works made to only be viewable by those who had found their soul mates, and he saw it in, as he got older, how everyone around him would look at him with some passive pitty. How his friends stopped inviting him out so that he might meet someone who would show him color, and how people had begun to whisper about him when they thought he wasn't listening.
Of course there were millions of people who never saw color, who's soulmates died before they met, or who died before they could bring color to their own soulmate, or who just never had one. 
For a while he had fancied himself one of the last types. He wasn’t a warm and caring man and he'd never felt the draw to find his other half that everyone described. But those types always said they felt complete as they were, that even without a soulmate they were truly happy. 
Aleistar thought he was one of them until he broke down, drunk and crying against his best friends shoulder. He didn’t remember much, of what he said the next day, just that now that he'd accidentally picked open this wound it was seeping constantly. 
///
Leonard had handed him the book as a joke. 
It was old and bound in a musty smelling leather but its pages were pristine. Leo said it's title translated something like "Desperation and Victory" but Aleistar couldn't make it out on the books front. The lettering was the same value as the leather it was printed on, and something about that felt like it was meant to be an insult.
///
He almost made it a week before he read the book for the first time. 
He sat in his old armchair that the clerk at the furniture shop had told him was blue, and put his feet up on his coffee table which was a deep brown according to Leo, and flicked through the pages that he suspected would be yellow if they weren't just as grey as everything else. 
///
The book had made it sound so effortless to trade his soul for the chance to have everything he could ever want. It listed wealth and riches and beauty or talent as examples of what someone might ask for, but all he wanted was to meet his soulmate. 
A fancy circle here and a few drops of blood there, and boom he'd have a demon who could find them for him. 
Was it worth it though? Was giving up his soul to meet someone he was already fated to meet worth it?
///
A month passed. he was 57 now.
Fifty-seven. 
That number hurt to think about. He wasn’t old old yet, but he had three years until his planned retirement, and an average of maybe eighteen more to follow, if he was lucky.
///
He spent a lot of nights crying in the armnchair he was told was blue with the book he thought of as yellow in his lap. He still remembered how badly he had wanted a family when he was young. Two kids. He'd always wanted two because it felt right to him. If they were both conceived today he was likely to be dead before they would be old enough to share a drink together at his favorite bar. 
Had he truly wasted his life? Had he let himself become so comfortable with the grey that he let a lifetime of color pass him by? 
He was 57. His college classmates were all probably starting to welcome grandchildren now. 
He was 57 and hed already been invited to so many funerals.
He dreaded that he might have already missed his soulmate's.
///
Aleistar habitually took notes at work, always had, but now they were more summoning circles than to-do lists.
///
He was 57, and he didn't care about having a soul anymore, because he desperately needed to find his soulmate and knew he would do whatever he needed to do to make that happen. 
///
The flash of the circle igniting all at once almost made him regret this decision. 
For a moment all that his senses could take in was the stark white light followed by a blurred buzzing of sensation as he struggled back onto his feet after having been thrown by the force of the demon entering his home. 
He was older, and his joints creaked under him as he finally got eyes on the hell beast who would own his soul in a scant few minutes.
He met the demon's eyes across the boundaries line of his summoning circle, his body going tight and rigid as the demon stared right back at him.
The demon's eyes were black and round and open wide. His lips were also black, and his teeth a sharp white where they showed in the slight gape mouthed expression the demon wore. The grey scale that Aleistar knew so well, that he had been so comfortable with for all these years, could hold only the demon's eyes and lips and teeth within itself.
Aleistar had heard that when someone finally found their soul mate they would be able to name one or two colors wothout being told what they were.
Maybe thats why he knew the demon's hair was blue. Deep dark blue. Like the sky at midnight if all the stars blinked out of existence. The ring around the demon's neck, along with its counter parts around his horns, and upper arms, and thighs had to be gold. True pure gold that could buy out everything he had ever owned and still be only a tiny fraction of the way through it's value.
Blue and gold were the colors he could name, Blue for the demons hair and lashes, gold for his markings, But the paled so much next to the color of the demon's skin. Warm and strange and beyond inhuman. Decadent, and bold and rare. and so... magic. So very magical. The color of this demon's skin would be his favorite from now on, and nothing would ever manage to compare to it again.
Nothing would ever again manage to compare to the demon who was slowly standing from where he had been knelt. The corners of his lips were up turned in a way that was almost a smile, more disbelieving than joyous but well on its way towards that destination.
"Hello-" the demon tried to speak, his voice smooth and low as he blurred at the edges, like a fog cloud barely forced into the shape of a man, but his voice cought in his throat as he swirled around the circle, to just look at everything, "Did… Did everything just get very… colorful for you?" the demon asked with a weak but hopeful smile as he pressed his hands up against the invisible boundry between them.
Aleistar thought he'd be scared to approach a demon, that this part would make his stomach turn. But he took the demon's hands in his own without hesitation and without flinching at the feeling of his soft and hell hot skin burning his own just that little bit.
Oh the demon was beautiful, not just his colors that felt so unearthly after of a lifetime of grey, but his fine and delicate features that buzzed around the edges like he might vanish if Aleistar stopped looking at him. 
Aleistar wanted to speak, wanted to say Something to the demon, but he was still struck dumb by the boiling joy and wonder in his own chest that bubbled over everything he met the demon's eyes again.
Some faint part of Aleistar's brain told him he should be panicked about how just holding this demon's hands made all the colors that much more intoxicatingly vibrant. That he shouldn't be on the verge of tears or laughter in this moment because all these colors could mean only one thing
"The silent type huh? Are you broody too?" the demon tried to joke before he caught himself even as his delicat fingers held onto Aleistar's a little tighter, "Oh, uh, the contract. You summoned me because you want me to find you your soulmate right? Uhm," the demon smiled and Aleistar knew he was grinning too. 
Finally, Aleistar understood all those people hed seen collide in the middle of the walkway. Desperate to just touch and hold their other half after far too long separated from them.
"Wow, ok, so I knew I was exceptionally good at my job, but this is a new record for me," The demon babbled on, "Uhm, I- You see the colors too right? I'm not just going crazy, and this is real, right?"
"It is, I- It really is isnt it?" Aleistar was laughing softly and he didn't know why, but the demon was laughing too now and pulling him closer and past the edge of the circle.
The book had been very specific about never being in the circle with an un named demon, said that the demon could use all sort of tricks against you if you made that mistake, but this one seemed perfectly content to just press up against him while burrying his face in the fabric of Aleistar's shirt. Still holding his hands and still chucking something that was almost a hiccups as he sought out his soulmate's touch.
Aleistar wrapped his arms around the demon, around his soulmate just to hold him close for the moment it took them both to stop giggling like school boys. There was something impossibly grounding about holding the demon, something that made him determined to never let his soulmate go
The demon's cute little horns bumped up against his chin every time either of them moved and there was something just immensely endearing about that to Aleistar, so he pressed a kiss to one, marveling at how his skin buzzed from such a little touch before doing it again and again until he was peppering his soulmate's face with kisses that carried all the emotions he couldn't put into words.
"I still need to make a contract with you," his soulmate said after Aleistar tried to kiss him properly for the first time, "I- I've already found you your soulmate, so you're going have to ask for something else… Something that will take very long for me to deliver on so I dont have to leave you," He looked up from where he was still pressed against Aleistar's chest, those coal black eyes so hopeful.
"Be mine," Aleistar said without thinking, "Stay with me and just- Just be mine," smiling this much was starting to hurt, "Please," he cupped either side of the demon's face in his hands to tilt him up just that little bit more, "Please," he repeated again, his breath tight and nervous in his chest like he was just a school boy confessing to his crush under the slide, light and nervwracking and desperate for things he didn't fully understand yet.
The demon grinned and nodded, "Give me a name and it will be done," his hands braced against Aleistar's chest, his fingers tangling in the fabric as he tried to ground himself there. 
Aleistar nodded and took a breath just to steady himself enough to not stutter. He remembered all the ways you could name a demon that the book had listed, all the ways you could bind one to yourself and all the ways those ways could fail, but there was only one he had any interest in trying in that moment.
"Haze," he said, a single syllable to describe his soulmate completely, it was all he needed. If the fervor with which Haze kissed him the moment the his new name was spoken was anything to go off of, then Aleistar felt confident in assuming he'd chosen correctly.
When they finally slowed to let Aleistar catch his breath after minutes of heavy petting and being too needy to let the other more than an inch or two away, they were sat in an armchair that Aleistar didn't need to be told was blue anymore.
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(there is) no time like the present
On his way towards the rest of their friends in the booth by the back of the pub, Niall finally spots Aisling’s auburn hair and glittery dress standing near the wooden table. He’d be lying if he didn’t think she looked quite pretty. Niall’s always known Aisling to be pretty, in a way that he knows that thunder follows lightning during a storm and that the sun always shines the brightest in the summer. It was just a universal thing.
But tonight, he finds that he’s entirely hyperaware of Aisling’s prettiness.
And he isn’t quite sure what to do about that.
A (short) story about a brown-haired boy and an auburn-haired girl trying to convince the world that they aren’t lonely, and how time really isn’t of the essence.
written for the 1dff discord server fic challenge
new year’s eve // roommates trope
niall/ofc, 8k words | banner credit
11:34
In Aisling O’Leary’s twenty-eight years of living, she has known two constants. The first being, she could never say no to people. No matter how hard she tried to, she just couldn’t bring herself to disappoint the people she cared about most in her life. She blames that on her trait of always trying to please people. The second constant is that she was a settler, in every sense of the word.
She settled with her group of friends in secondary school back home in Clifden. She settled when she chose to go to university across the country in Dublin instead of taking the leap and applying to schools in her dream city of London. She settled with her marketing position at a publishing house when her dream was to be an editor. And, she settled with her last boyfriend of two years, Cormac Hayes.
When he decided to end things with her three months ago, Aisling knows that she probably should have been more upset over it. Truth is, she stayed with Cormac for that long because it was easy. He loved her at arm’s length and she was okay with that. He gave her attention and loved her the best way he knew how, and although it wasn’t enough for Aisling in the end, she sort of just let it happen. And when she didn’t even shed a tear over losing her boyfriend of two years, she wasn’t surprised in the least.
That’s just how Aisling O’Leary worked.
She tries her hardest to ignore the constant ringing of her mobile from the inside of her purse under her work desk. It was Friday afternoon and she was practically the only soul in the office because most of her other co-workers decided to take the day off to prepare for this evening’s New Year’s Eve festivities.
Aisling didn’t really think too much about it, to be honest. What did she have to celebrate this past year? The fact that she received an end of the year bonus at her job that she hasn’t enjoyed for the past four years? The fact that she’s single, once again? The fact that she’s still living with her uni mate and putting off her goal of moving to London?
She pushes those thoughts away when an image of said uni mate flashes across the screen of her mobile.
“Niall, for the love of god, please stop ringing me,” Aisling scolds, harshly whispering into the receiver. It’s really no use considering it’s just her and the unlucky intern who couldn’t get the day off, but she does it anyways for dramatic intent.
“As lovely as ever, sweet Aisling,” Niall starts, the sound of whooshing air in the background a bit distracting. Aisling can only assume that he’s walking around outside, the sound of the chilling winter wind blowing through the phone loudly giving him away.
“Sorry, Niall. Just, uh, busy is all.” Aisling lies and Niall doesn’t even try to fall for it. She does feel a little bad for snapping at him, because it’s really not his fault that she’s in such a shit mood. And taking it out on her uni mate turned flatmate turned best mate just wasn’t really fair.
Niall Horan crashed into Aisling’s life during her first year at University College Dublin (the word crashed used very appropriately). She was sitting towards the back of her Art History lecture, a random gen-ed requirement her advisor forced her to take. She chose the back because she assumed she wouldn’t be bothered, but then eight minutes after class began, Niall ran in with flushed cheeks and his freshly bleached blonde hair standing up all over the place. And out of all the empty seats in the entire lecture hall, he chose to sit next to Aisling.
He spent the entirety of the lecture fidgeting in the plastic seat next to Aisling, looking over her shoulder at the notes she was scribbling down aggressively. He didn't even bother to bring a notebook, let alone a pen, to the lecture. Normally, Aisling would find that infuriating. But when it comes to Niall, Aisling has found that most of the things that should bother her just, well, don’t.
“I’m walking into the shops. Everyone’s been texting like mad about tonight, driving me up the fuckin’ wall. Did you put the group chat on mute again?” Niall asks and Aisling doesn’t even bother answering, because of course she did.
It’s not that she didn’t like her uni mates, because they really were the best friends Aisling has ever had. But when they decided amongst themselves that her and Niall’s flat would be the destination for pre-drinks tonight, conveniently leaving Aisling and Niall out of the conversation altogether, she couldn’t help but grow increasingly annoyed.
But in typical Aisling fashion, she just let it happen. She blames it on that first constant of hers.
“Just while I was working. Didn’t want to be distracted,” Aisling decides to say, pausing as she hears the sound of an automatic door opening and closing on Niall’s end. She knows he’s probably completely aware that she’s not that excited about tonight. But in typical Niall fashion, he tries to find the silver lining in every situation—even if he is feeling equally as shitty about this evening.
“Well, you’re probably the only person in all of Ireland working today,” Niall says, a chuckle added at the end to let Aisling know that he’s just messing with her.
“That’s not true. Sean’s here with me, having the time of his life.” Aisling watches the office intern sit at his desk with his head in his hands, clearly hungover and annoyed that he got stuck working the day of New Year’s Eve. She feels a bit bad for the lad, empathetic to his cause.
Niall agrees. “What’re we drinking tonight, Aisling? How ossified do we feel like getting, scale of one to ten?”
Aisling sighs. She knows getting drunk off her arse tonight is probably not the best move to make. But then she starts to think of her friends and how they seem a lot more bearable after a few drinks. She starts to think about the past three months of her life and how she feels like she’s just taking up space. She starts to think about the last phone call she had with her mam, and how she’s suddenly begun to worry about her oldest daughter. She starts to think about her future, and how she’s not really excited about it at all, to be fair.
The more she thinks about it, the more getting completely plastered sounds better and better in her head.
“Whiskey. Lots of it,” Aisling replies, sure and assertive.
“There’s my girl,” Niall says, and she can practically hear the glass bottles being added to the shopping trolley. “I’ll see you when you get home. Let’s just try and have fun tonight, yeah? Forget about all the bullshit.”
Aisling agrees to try her hardest to do that for Niall. But she’s got enough bullshit going on in her life to hold anybody down, and if she’s going to try and get over it, she’s going to need a lot of whiskey to do that.
And some courage—lots of it.
14:08
In Niall Horan’s twenty-eight years of living, he’s known two constants. The first being, he puts too much trust in other people, not nearly guarding his heart the way he should. He’s always fallen too quickly and too harshly, never really thinking of the repercussions. The second constant being that he was always blissfully one step behind everybody else, overlooking hidden clues and secret hints, not really understanding the longing look in another person’s eyes, or why their cheeks heat up around somebody’s presence. He wouldn’t blame that on selfishness, per se, rather, naiveté. If it wasn’t hitting Niall right in the face, chances are he completely missed it.
He’s thinking about his unguarded heart while lining up the various liquor bottles he bought at the shops a few hours ago, creating a makeshift bar on the kitchen countertop. His mind briefly falls to Sheridan, as it does most times when he’s feeling a bit lonely. He thinks about her blonde hair and turquoise eyes and warm pale skin. How she was the most important thing in his life on and off for five years. How he loved her with everything inside of him, and he figured that would be enough.
But then she gets a job offer a world away in America, and she takes it without even looking back. Without even considering how it would affect Niall. Without even including him in the conversation.
He wonders if she’s always been selfish with his heart.
Niall tries his hardest to not think about it. She left Ireland almost nine months ago, and he really has been doing better. He wants nothing more than to forget about this year. It was one filled with heartbreak and anger and pain, and the idea of drinking his sorrows away to start over again is exactly what he needed.
But there’s no denying that Niall Horan is admittedly lonely.
He thinks of Aisling, and how she seems just as lost as he is most of the time. Back in uni she was always the rational one between the pair, always taking notes and showing up to class and making sure that Niall kept his head on straight. When he meets Sheridan at the end of their first year, he remembers instantly thinking that she was the one for him. He blames it on that first constant of his.
Sheridan Walsh was beautiful and rich and, admittedly, so far out of Niall’s league the second he met her at a mutual friend’s house party. She was studying linguistics at Trinity as a hobby, a job at her parent’s enormous investment bank already secured. Her family had an expansive estate in Killiney overlooking Dalkey Island and Niall did everything he could to try and fit into her world.
When he meets her he charms her instantly, and the second he realizes that she was in a different social class than his own, Niall runs into Aisling’s dorm room and begs her to strip the bleach from his hair. He spends Years Two and Three doing everything he can to impress Sheridan, and finally one night she gives in, and he feels as if he’s floating through thin air.
To this day, Niall still isn’t sure what it was about him that made Sheridan finally agree to start dating him. She didn’t approve of his course of study, she found his hometown of Mullingar to be quaint, and she never really understood why he decided to live with Aisling in their too-small flat.
If there’s one thing Niall can appreciate most about his friendship with Aisling (and there’s a lot to be thankful for, to be fair) it’s that she tried her hardest to be nice to Sheridan, even though there would never be a world where the two of them would ever be friends. Aisling showed Niall how to properly knot a tie to prepare him for meeting Sheridan’s parents, she explained to him the difference between an oyster fork and a salad fork whenever he had to go to fancy dinner parties, and she constantly reminded him that he shouldn’t try as hard to fit into Sheridan’s world, because she loved him just the way he was.
If only it were true in the end.
In reality, Niall has a lot to be thankful for when it comes to Aisling O’Leary. He just hopes that he purchased enough whiskey to try and make her enjoy herself for the first time in three months.
17:41
Normally it takes Aisling twenty minutes to get home from her office near O’Connell Street to her and Niall’s shared flat in Ranelagh. But she’s stalling, walking along the River Liffey in the brisk evening weather instead of getting on the bus to start getting ready for tonight.
Niall knows this, as he’s grown accustomed to Aisling whipping open the front door twenty minutes after five, complaining about the crammed rush hour commute while untying her boots and throwing her scarf haphazardly over their wobbly coat hanger. He’s currently watching the clock change from the half hour mark almost nearing quarter to six, debating if he should ring her or not.
As if reading his mind, Aisling shoots Niall a text, assuring him that she’s not avoiding their mates (lie) and that she isn’t contemplating ditching this evening’s festivities (lie) and that she’s stopping at the nearest shop to grab snacks for their friends (half-lie turned truth). Niall doesn’t bother telling her that their friends already agreed to bring food over, because he knows Aisling better than she knows herself sometimes. Instead, he writes, Do what you need to do, A. I’ve got a drink waiting for you when you get home xx, and Aisling starts to feel a bit more at ease.
It’s near six when Aisling appears with a shopping bag filled with crackers and the nicest assortment of cheese she could find last minute. Niall can hear her usual foot pattern by the front door while he starts pouring the two of them whiskey neats in the nice glasses Sheridan re-gifted him two Christmases ago.
“Sorry I was late. The shops were brutal, too many people banging about. Couldn’t even find the good cheese Cara likes,” Aisling says, entering the kitchen with a smile headed in Niall’s direction. He watches as she starts putting the items into the fridge and respective cupboards, avoiding making eye contact.
“If you turned your mobile on every now and then, you’d have seen that Cara and Robbie already got food for tonight,” Niall says, sliding Aisling’s drink across the kitchen counter.
Aisling gives Niall a sheepish look. “Right. I was just—”
“—Busy.” Niall gives Aisling a look she knows all too well, and she immediately feels guilty, slumping down in the chair across from him. “Your mam rang me earlier. Was wondering why her lovely daughter wasn’t answering her calls.”
Aisling chuckles softly, bringing the glass to her lips. “Ah, of course she did. Sometimes I think she rings you because she likes you a bit too much.”
“What can I say? Mam’s love me—especially yours,” Niall says with a grin, puffing his chest out a bit.
Aisling snorts. “Did she say anything of interest this time ‘round?”
“Just went on about how your da can’t find a proper barmaid for tonight,” Niall says, the mention of Aisling’s family’s pub in Clifden bringing a nostalgic smile to her face. “She might have also mentioned that she’s worried about you.”
Aisling frowns. “Worried?”
Niall nods cautiously. “Yeah. She thinks you're lonely.”
Aisling pauses for a moment, watching the amber liquid inside her cup slosh with each swivel of the glass on the countertop. She really hates that word—lonely. To Aisling, loneliness implies the absence of something. How can she miss a feeling she’s never even truly felt in the first place? The only thing Aisling has felt for the past few years has been complacency. And that’s one she’d love to shed with the new year.
“Well, she’s nothing to worry about. ‘M not lonely,” Aisling mumbles, downing the rest of her drink with one large gulp.
Niall cocks an eyebrow in her direction. “That’s exactly what a lonely person would say.”
It’s one of those rare moments when Aisling can’t tell if Niall is taking the piss or genuinely concerned. But with one look in his blue eyes, Aisling decides to go with the latter.
“I promise you, Niall, I’m not lonely. It’s been three months. I barely even think about Cormac anymore, so quit your worrying,” Aisling counters, beginning to pour herself another glass, this time a bit shorter.
“You never even thought about him to begin with,” Niall quips, finishing his drink as well. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
Aisling doesn’t really know how to answer that, because there’s no denying that Niall is absolutely correct. She just isn’t quite sure how to explain to her best mate that she never truly felt heartbreak in the same capacity that he did. Cormac ending things with Aisling did not shatter her heart the same way that Sheridan did to Niall’s.
Aisling starts to wonder if there’s something wrong with this so-called heart of hers.
“I think I saw it coming before it actually happened, ya know?” Aisling begins to explain. “I think I knew Cormac wasn’t the one for me. It made the blow less harsh, in a way.” It’s a version of the truth that both Niall and Aisling can settle on. And she can tell that he’s understanding as he nods through his final swallow of whiskey.
“Just want you to be happy, is all,” Niall says, placing his empty glass on the countertop. “It’s the beauty of New Years, my sweet Aisling. You can start fresh.”
Aisling just smiles, finishing her glass as well. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
And this time, she truly hopes he is.
19:22
Aisling is starting to think that it’s far too early for her friends to be this inebriated.
It’s barely half past seven and her friends had started to arrive nearly an hour earlier. After her unsettling conversation with Niall, Aisling resorted to locking herself in her bedroom with the excuse of getting ready. Instead, she sat in the shower for far too long until the hot water turned cold, building up the courage to just try and let loose for one fucking night.
The second she hears Cara and Robbie enter the flat, Aisling immediately fights the urge to down another whiskey neat.
There was a time when Aisling believed that Cara and Robbie would be the first pair out of their uni group to get married. They had been together ever since Aisling lived next door to Cara in the dorms during her first year at UCD. And while everybody else had seemingly tried to grow up during the past seven years, Cara and Robbie seemed content in their post-uni bubble.
Aisling was pretty sure that bubble should have been popped some time after their twenty-fifth birthdays.
“Oi! Aisy! Pass me a fresh Smithwick while you’re at it!” Conor hollers over from the small loveseat in the living room when he notices Aisling heading towards the fridge for a new drink.
She nods, biting her tongue at the ridiculous nickname that he hasn’t stopped calling her since Year Two. Aisling’s just happy he isn’t calling her feek anymore.
If Aisling had the choice, she would never have had Conor worm his way into the inner-workings of their unusual friend group. But alas, Conor came along with Niall, and if Aisling wanted to keep Niall in her life (which she very much would like to), then she had to suck it up and deal with his unruly best mate.
Aisling passes Conor the freshly opened bottle of beer, smiling politely at the pretty brown-haired girl seated to his right. According to Niall, Conor’s been bringing her along to their group pub outings for a few weeks now. Aisling promised to remember her name if she stuck around for another month. Conor had a bad habit of flying through girls, and it became harder with each new face to remember their names.
Aisling heads back into the kitchen to start preparing the cheeseboard, watching in her periphery as a long slender red-painted finger reaches out to snatch a stray cracker hanging off the side of the tray.
“Wait your turn like everybody else, Han,” Aisling scolds, ignoring the snicker her friend makes in between bites of the cracker.
“Sorry mum, you know how I get if I don’t eat something before drinking,” Hannah says, her Scouse accent already beginning to muddle together. Aisling does her best to keep her eye roll to herself.
“It’s too early for you to be slurring. Lay off the drink until we get to the pub, okay?” Aisling responds, reaching out to grab the half-finished vodka tonic in Hannah’s shaky hands. She tosses it aside, hopefully long forgotten by the time Hannah finishes eating something.
She watches Hannah nod her head agreeably, before sneaking another cracker off of the plate. This time, Aisling doesn’t scold her.
“I’m sorry you’re ringing in the New Year all by yourself,” Hannah says after Aisling has a sip of her drink. “Shite being alone, innit?”
There’s that word again. Alone. Aisling shrugs half-heartedly even though she doesn’t really agree with Hannah’s logic. Even if she tried to explain it to her, she knows she wouldn’t understand it. While Hannah’s been a great friend to Aisling over the years, she’s admittedly been quite selfish. Therefore, Aisling tries not to burden her with matters of the heart.
Niall overhears the conversation when he walks into the kitchen with Hannah’s boyfriend Rory, and immediately he starts to feel a bit guilty.
Aisling and Cormac would never have met if it weren’t for Niall. They both played together in Niall's men’s league for footie, and he thought that they would be a good match together. So when he gave Cormac his flatmate’s number one night after practice and a week later they went out to dinner, Niall really believed that he did Aisling a solid.
Now though, he feels a bit shitty.
“What’re you two gossiping about?” Rory asks, slinging an arm over Hannah’s pointy shoulders, unaware of the awkward tension left hanging in the kitchen from Hannah’s previous comment.
“Nothing, babe. Just sad that Aisling won’t have a New Year’s kiss,” Hannah says, the backhanded dig flying completely over her head. Aisling feels it though, and so does Niall, who immediately steps in.
“Keep drinkin’ like that Hannah and you might not make it to midnight for a kiss this year either.” The lightness of his tone makes it seem to Hannah and Rory that he’s just joking with them, but Aisling knows Niall, and she can hear the undercurrent of frustration laced between his words. So when she lifts her head up and looks at him and already finds that he’s staring right back at her, she smiles a bit, mouthing a quick thank you in his direction.
Sometimes, she’s really lucky to have a friend like Niall.
21:43
Niall slams down his second shot of whiskey since entering the pub nearly thirty minutes ago, and he’s finally starting to feel that type of drunkenness where everything seems a bit lighter and everybody seems a lot happier. They’ve chosen a pub in Parnell Square in favor over the crowded pubs in the Temple Bar area, and he’s happy with their choice considering the pub is filled with twenty-somethings instead of the usual younger, rowdier crowd.
After the incident in the kitchen, Niall finds himself keeping a closer watch on Aisling. While he knows the past few months have been quite hard on her, he didn’t realize how apathetic some of their mates were. He also didn’t notice how sad it made her.
He wonders if she’s always felt like this, and he’s always just been too wrapped up in his own sadness to notice her own.
Regretfully, he blames that second constant of his.
“Oi, Horan! Drink up!” Conor yells over from his left, another shot of whiskey waiting for him on the bartop. Niall tears his eyes away from Aisling, instead focusing on the overflowing shot glass in front of him. He gulps, already mentally preparing to slow down in order to keep his wits about him until midnight approaches.
Niall shoots the drink back, slamming the glass onto the sticky bartop and wiping the back of his hand over his lips. He can hear Conor cackling beside him, and he tries to ignore the elbow digging into his ribcage. He tries to find Aisling’s wavy auburn hair through the crowd, or even her sparkly long-sleeved dress, but it’s no use. She’s too far out of his view.
“Are you lookin’ to pull?” Conor asks smugly after noticing Niall’s gaze flittering over the other side of the pub.
“Nah mate. Not tonight,” Niall replies, the thought of pulling a random girl for the night sounding entirely unappealing.
Conor turns towards his friend, putting his back to his pretty date. “Niall, tonight’s the perfect night for a random lay. C’mon mate, it’s New Years! Every single bird here is looking for an easy shag. It’s been months anyways, what’re you waiting for? Sheri’s not comin’ back.”
Niall tries his hardest not to flinch at his friend’s words. He knows deep down that if he really wanted to sleep with a random girl for the night, he could. And earlier, he probably would have done just that to cure his loneliness. But now the thought of doing just that sort of makes his skin crawl a little.
Including the fact that he can’t stop trying to find his flatmate in the crowded pub. But he’s not quite sure what that means.
“Fuck off Conor. I know she’s not coming back.” Niall’s annoyed that his friend decided to bring Sheridan up. He just wishes everybody would stop fucking bringing her up.
Conor just shrugs. “Then why aren’t you lookin’ for an easy lay?”
Niall’s grip on his whiskey coke is so tight that his knuckles turn white. He grits his teeth before taking a long sip, before giving his stupid friend one last annoyed look. “Because sex isn’t the answer to everything.” And with that, Niall walks away.
“It sure helps though, prick!” Conor shouts from his place at the bar, and Niall just shakes his head, ignoring him.
On his way towards the rest of their friends in the booth by the back of the pub, Niall finally spots Aisling’s auburn hair and glittery dress standing near the wooden table. He’d be lying if he didn’t think she looked quite pretty. Niall’s always known Aisling to be pretty, in a way that he knows that thunder follows lightning during a storm and that the sun always shines the brightest in the summer. It was just a universal thing.
But tonight, he finds that he’s entirely hyperaware of Aisling’s prettiness.
He’s watching the way her head falls back when a loud laugh rips through her lungs, her long auburn hair falling past her shoulders, catching the dim pub lighting in a way that stops Niall dead in his tracks. The sparkles in her shift dress glitter with every bend of her knees or swivel of her hips, and Niall tries his hardest to keep his eyes off of Aisling’s lower half. Her eyes have that glow to them that only happens when she feels totally comfortable, and he’s wondering if it’s genuine or if the liquor is helping mask her unease surrounding tonight.
Before he’s caught, Niall pulls himself together and approaches the group.
“Niall!” Aisling squeals once he’s entered the small half-huddle the girls in the group have formed. She’s leaning in, a bit unsteady on her chunky heels, and Niall can feel the whiskey warmth of her breath fan over his cheeks. She’s definitely drunk, Niall thinks, securing an arm around her middle so Aisling doesn’t end up arse over tit on the dirty pub floor.
“Somebody’s havin’ fun,” Niall pushes through a grin, his arms tightening around her waist once Aisling presses two small hands on his shoulders to steady herself. She giggles and it sounds like the prettiest song he’s ever heard.
“Wasn’t it you who told me to drink away all the bullshit?” Aisling asks, finishing the rest of her drink, her head falling back on her neck dramatically as she swallows. Niall chuckles, grabbing the empty glass from her shaky fingers before it slips and cracks on the floor.
“Might’ve. But slow your roll, sweet Aisling. Still three hours left until midnight,” Niall tuts, smiling a bit when she huffs out in disappointment, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. He finds it incredibly adorable.
“Don’t leave me alone with these eejits then! They’re the ones forcing drinks down me throat!” Aisling calls out, pointing a skinny finger towards Cara and Robbie who look responsible. Her Western accent grows much stronger with each level of intoxication Aisling passes, and Niall knows that if she continues he’s going to start struggling piecing together what she’s trying to say.
So he laughs, removing his arm around her waist and throwing it around her shoulders instead, pulling her closer to his chest so that his chin rests above the crown of her head.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” Niall says, and Aisling smiles back, squeezing his hand that dangles in front of her chest tightly in thanks.
Niall squeezes back, thinking that if he had to spend the next three hours with her, he wouldn’t mind at all. He especially wouldn’t mind it if Aisling was still tucked under his arm once midnight struck.
23:38
Aisling has spent the last twenty minutes holding Cara’s curly hair back while she retches into the toilet. She stopped drinking about an hour ago once she noticed the pallor beneath Cara’s copper skin, knowing it was only a matter of time until she grew sick.
And just like clockwork, with an hour to go until midnight, Cara grabbed Aisling with shaky hands and dragged her to the toilet before vomiting into the porcelain basin below. Aisling rubs her friend’s back, wrapping her curly hair around her wrists to make sure the coiled tendrils stay vomit-free.
She wishes the night didn’t have to end like this.
But it seems to always happen whenever she’s around Cara. As much as Aisling loves her, she can’t help but wonder if this is how it’ll always be with her friend. She wonders when she’ll finally just grow up.
Once again, Aisling has to give up her night in order to make sure Cara’s isn’t ruined.
Cara moans under her and Aisling snaps out of her miserable state, asking her friend if she was okay and if she needed anything. Cara shakes her head, albeit still unsteady on her feet as she slowly hobbles over towards the sink. Aisling sighs for what feels like the hundredth time, wishing her friend would stop being so stubborn.
Before they leave the toilets, Aisling dampens some paper towels and blots it over Cara’s sticky forehead. Her friend swats at her wrists angrily, snatching the wet paper towels from Aisling’s hands and throwing it into the rubbish bin.
“‘M wearing foundation Aisling! Christ, yer gonna fuck it up!” Cara scolds, walking past her friend and fixing what’s left of her mangled curls into a topknot.
Aisling just frowns, wishing her friend would be a bit kinder to her considering she did just spend the better part of her evening holding her hair back and listening to her retch into a shitty public toilet.
“Sorry,” Aisling mumbles, because she knows she could never yell at her friend no matter how angry she makes her. Aisling would rather not rock the boat, so instead she just lets Cara take out her frustrations on her. She’s been doing it for the past seven years anyways, why stop now?
Cara says nothing. Instead, she irons out her black dress with her hands and leaves the toilets, heading towards their group of friends in the back of the pub. Aisling watches her go, taking a few seconds to herself to just breathe.
If Aisling were a different person, she probably would have told Cara off for acting like a Grade A Bitch. She would tell her to stop being so selfish, to stop making everything about her, to stop acting like such a fucking child.
But Aisling is not that person.
So instead she shakes those words from her head, focusing on regulating her breathing and making sure the redness in her cheeks goes away. She wishes she was the same level of drunkenness she happened to be a few hours ago, where everything seemed a bit more bearable and she wasn’t focusing on the shittier parts of her friendships.
When she emerges from the hallway, she spots Niall immediately. She’s found that he’s always standing a bit closer to her than normal, always making sure she’s okay and that she’s enjoying herself. She’s grateful for it, if she’s being honest, because out of everybody in this crowded pub, she’s happy that it’s Niall who’s standing by her side.
She watches as his brown hair flops over his forehead, hanging around his face in a messy boyish way. He looks handsome with his white button down shirt tucked into his navy blue houndstooth dress pants. When he turns a bit so he can laugh at whatever obscene joke Conor just made, she can see the way the shirtsleeves tighten around his flexed bicep, and the way his waist looks thinner when he swivels his hip, and the way his arse arches in his new pants.
Aisling is immediately transported back to a time when every movement Niall made would make her blush uncontrollably. When his hair was blonder and his laugh was louder and he wasn’t as muscley—when he would barge into her dorm room at all hours of the day and show up at Aisling’s library table and doodle notes and scribbles on her coursework. When she found herself crushing on her first ever real uni mate, when she tried her hardest to ignore it, until it ultimately faded as the years passed on.
But sometimes, in moments like this, the feelings would shoot straight into her chest like a lightning strike, and she finds herself struggling for air. It usually happened in fleeting moments—typically when he laughed so hard his blue eyes scrunched, or he held her really tightly whenever she had a bad day, and especially when he called her sweet Aisling.
And just like that, the moment is gone, leaving just as quickly as it came. As if noticing her absence (something that he’s been doing a lot of tonight), blue eyes meet hazel and he cocks his head in concern, the silent question of Are you okay? floating through the air until it stops right in Aisling’s path.
She nods her head and it’s entirely unconvincing. But before Niall could leave their friends and approach Aisling, she gestures towards the bar with a small smile, insinuating she was going to grab a new drink. Niall just nods, staring at her as she approaches the bartop.
As soon as she feels the heat of his gaze leave her back, Aisling orders a water. Suddenly, she doesn’t want to be here anymore, the dreaded feelings she had earlier in the day flooding her insides without warning. She doesn’t give a fuck about midnight anymore, doesn’t give a fuck about watching her mates cheers to the start of a new year.
She just wants to leave.
23:55
Niall turns away from his conversation with Conor, wondering why Aisling hasn’t returned to their spot in the back of the pub. He watched her head towards the bar almost ten minutes ago, and he’s not quite sure if there’s something wrong.
He’s reminded back to the lifeless look in her eyes when she left the toilets with Cara moments ago, and he instantly feels his stomach drop a little at the thought of something bad happening to her. Did they get into a fight? Did Cara say something to upset her? Where the fuck is she?
“Cara, where’s Aisling?” Niall asks, leaning into her ear to talk over the loud music. He cranes his neck towards the bar where he last saw her, and finds that her auburn hair is no longer in view.
Cara shrugs her shoulders, looking less than interested in this conversation. “Dunno, mate. Fucked off in the jacks ‘coupla minutes ago.” Niall scrunches his nose at the lingering smell of bile on her breath.
“What’d you do?” Niall knows that his tone is a bit accusatory, but he feels like an idiot for not realizing that Aisling was upset sooner. He’s instantly brought back to the kitchen when Hannah hurt her feelings, and Niall’s left wondering if he’s as much of a prick as their friends have been lately.
“Oh, fuck off Niall,” Cara starts, laughing even though it’s not funny. “Did nothin’! She probably just doesn’t wanna be ‘ere durin’ midnight ‘cos she’s single and all.”
Niall knows that isn’t true. He also knows that if Cara had asked Aisling herself, she would know that Aisling could give less of a shit about being single.
Niall’s suddenly left with the unwavering thought that maybe nobody has asked Aisling how she’s truly felt in a long time.
Before he can reply, he notices the countdown start to begin, and suddenly he doesn't want to be around his friends at all.
He wants to find Aisling.
23:59
Aisling can hear the ten second countdown from her spot outside the pub, leaning against the cold brick wall, cooling her down from the inside out. Her winter coat is still clenched in her right hand, the heat of her anger keeping her warm against the evening breeze.
Her eyes are closed tight and she’s trying her hardest not to cry. Aisling knows it’s stupid—crying over her friends who didn’t even spare her a second glance when she stormed out of the pub door. She doesn’t want to blame them, because even though they can be selfish and unaware of her sadness, Aisling has let it slide for far too long. She’s starting to think that her friends have grown accustomed to her knack of shrugging things off her shoulder, and she really only has herself to blame.
Aisling sighs as she hears the countdown end, the sounds of celebration reverberating through the thick brick. She’s ringing in this new year alone, as it seems, and she wonders if she’s part to blame for it.
She wonders why she’s never spoken up when her friends overlook her feelings and say hurtful things about her. Aisling knows that they aren’t intentional, and that her friends don’t truly mean to hurt her feelings, but part of her wishes they would just understand.
She wonders why she’s never been bold enough to go after the job she actually wanted. Why she stays working her shitty desk job day after day, losing interest in everything around her. Why she never acted on that job listing she received an email from in London, why she never even tried to move there in the first place.
She wonders why she’s wasted so much time trying to find love in boys who can never offer her what she truly needs. Why even though Cormac was a sound lad, she knew he wasn’t right for her, but the thought of leaving him was much more difficult than staying, so she chose the easier option.
Aisling wishes she was the type of person to speak up, to act on what she wants, to simply be better.
But she isn’t.
So she sinks down to the cool pavement below her, her neck stretched upwards as her head rests on the brick wall. Her eyes are still closed shut, and she thinks that if she keeps them closed, she can squeeze out the girl she so badly wants to get rid of.
She thinks that when she opens her eyes again, she’ll be a new person. The person she wants to be.
00:03
Niall finally finds Aisling outside, her head resting against the wall upturned towards the night sky. Her eyes are closed and Niall’s eyes are trained on her long ivory neck, and he wonders what would have happened if he came out here just as the clock struck midnight.
He shakes that thought from his head, because she looks so small. So unsure. So sad.
Aisling doesn’t look at Niall until he’s sitting near her with his warm hand resting on her bent knee. He’s looking at her as her eyes flutter open, hazel eyes glassy from the tears threatening to fall. He knows Aisling though—knows her so well that she won’t let them fall, no matter how badly she wants to.
She offers Niall a weak smile, and he’s sitting close enough that he can see her bottom lip wobble. It makes him angry.
“Ready to get out of here?” Niall asks softly, ignoring the millions of other questions he wants to ask her. He knows how fragile she is. How adamant she is about not explaining her feelings, so he takes the easy way out even though it kills him to do so.
Aisling smiles at him, a little stronger than before. “Please.”
Niall doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he stands up, grabbing her winter coat in one hand and her smaller hand in the other. Once she’s standing in front of him, close enough that he can feel her shaky breath on his neck, he holds open her coat and buttons her up.
“Let’s go.”
00:52
Niall and Aisling have been sitting around the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of whiskey on the countertop between them. Aisling’s heels are discarded somewhere near the front door, her feet resting on the unoccupied stool to Niall’s left. He’s rubbing her shins in between pulls of liquor, his navy blazer thrown over the couch, the top few buttons of his crisp white shirt opened to show his patch of chest hair.
They haven’t really said much in the fifteen minutes they’ve been home. Niall knows when to bite, and he knows that getting Aisling reacquainted with whiskey will make the conversation a lot easier.
So they sit. And he jokes. And she smiles.
It’s only after Niall says something stupid that makes Aisling snort—something that should be completely unattractive to most but Niall finds it incredible endearing—that her words make Niall’s heart stop.
“God, now I remember why I had such a crush on you in uni,” Aisling says after a pull of whiskey.
Niall stops his laughing, eyes immediately going wide. “Wait, what?”
“Oi, quit being an eejit,” she says with a roll of her hazel eyes. “Don’t act surprised, everybody knew.”
But Niall can’t help it. He is surprised.
Why hadn’t anybody told him? More so, why hadn’t she told him?
Was he really the only person who didn’t know?
“Aisling, why didn’t you tell me?” Niall asks, his voice void of teasing. He’s honest and when she looks deep into his ocean eyes, Aisling realizes that she probably shouldn’t have mentioned the crush she had on him in uni seven years ago.
“I genuinely thought you knew. Christ Niall, everybody knew,” she whispers, placing the whiskey bottle back on the table separating them.
“I just—I,” Niall’s confused. And overwhelmed. And slightly angry with himself. “Just wish I knew, is all.”
“Why? It wouldn’t have changed anything, Niall. It was years ago. And you were with Sheri. It really isn’t a big deal, I shouldn’t have said anything—”
“—Don’t do that,” Niall says abruptly, cutting her off.
Aisling’s eyes widen, mirroring Niall’s. “Do what?”
Niall huffs in response, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “Act like your feelings don’t matter. They do. And I just—fuck, I dunno, Aisling. I just wish I fucking knew.”
“Why, what would you have done?” Aisling asks, repeating herself, half out of annoyance and half out of sheer curiosity. She truly wishes she just kept her fucking mouth shut.
“Who knows,” Niall says, grabbing the whiskey bottle for himself and pouring it down his throat. “Probably would have spared myself the heartache of dating a girl who could give less of a shit about me. But hey, the past is in the past. New year and all that. New beginnings or summat.” He holds up the bottle in a false cheers, his eyes dull and harsh.
Aisling’s replaying what he said earlier over and over in her head, watching as her best mate continues to gulp back whiskey.
Act like your feelings don’t matter.
Has she been doing that for years now? Acting like her feelings are insignificant, like everybody else’s feelings are more important than hers? Like every thought she has is just her completely overthinking everything?
She reaches out and grabs the bottle from Niall’s lips, placing it on the countertop in front of them with a gentle thud.
“It’s not that I don’t think my feelings matter,” Aisling starts, her voice a small mumble. “It’s just—nobody bothers to ask. I’m always helping everybody else with their problems, and it’s not that I don't want to, because I’d do it for anybody. I’m just different, I suppose. I keep things in, because sometimes the things I try and say are just shit, if I’m being honest. So I don’t really say anything.”
Niall sighs sadly, reaching across the countertop for Aisling’s hand instead of the whiskey bottle.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Niall starts, a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry I never bother to ask sometimes. It’s just, fuck Aisling, you’re just hard to read sometimes. And it’s so frustrating ‘cos you’re my best mate, yeah? I care about you so much.” Niall’s thumbs are brushing against Aisling’s hands and she tries her hardest not to shudder. “Hate when you keep things in. Need you to tell me, yeah?”
Aisling nods and she prays that Niall keeps his hands in hers.
“‘M sorry too, Niall. Care about you, too. Quite a bit.” Aisling is wondering if she’s imagining Niall leaning closer towards her, or if she just wants it to happen so badly that she’s conjuring it up in her own head.
Sitting across from Aisling in their tiny kitchenette, Niall wonders if he’s ever truly thought about kissing her before tonight. Sure, Aisling’s always been beautiful. And sure, she’s been one of his closest mates ever since they first moved in together. But as he sits here, watching the way her skin glows from the overhead lights, watching the way she’s slowly leaning in towards him, he’s really thinking about it.
So he leans in, too.
And he kisses her.
01:14
When they break apart, Aisling feels as if she’s on fire. Her forearms are balancing her upper body on the countertop, and Niall’s longer arms are holding her elbows tightly. Blue eyes meet hazel and their faces are so close that Aisling’s eyelashes are tickling the apples of Niall’s cheeks.
They’re breathing each other in before Aisling’s hand wraps around the back of Niall’s neck and she’s bringing his lips against hers for another searing kiss.
He reacts almost instantly, bringing one hand away from her elbow and up to her cheek, slotting his bottom lip over her top lip and holding back a groan from the back of his throat.
They break apart again, the edge of the counter digging into Aisling’s chest in an uncomfortable way. She sits back against the chair on her knees, her breathing labored and eyes blown wide. Niall’s staring at her, taking in her rosy cheeks and her messy hair, her swollen lips and huffing chest.
He thinks she’s the prettiest thing he’s seen all night. (Even though he knew that to begin with, to be fair).
So he stands up, holding an outstretched hand towards her body, giving her a boyish grin to which she returns instantly. “C’mere.”
Aisling practically jumps into his arms then, leaning her entire torso onto his with her arms wrapped securely around his neck. She can feel Niall’s forearms against the small of her back, and she’s standing on the tips of her toes in order to press her lips fully against his.
Niall squeezes against her hips and Aisling gasps, her mouth opening against his allowing him to lap his tongue against her own. It’s everything and more, and the sound exploding from the back of his throat practically causes Aisling to melt against his chest.
His hand is knotted into her hair, pulling back slightly so that she can reach his mouth. Aisling slowly starts to back Niall up against the wall adjacent to the hallway, and with that support he can run his hands down her back and against her bum, squeezing the skin through her glittery dress. When he pulls away for a breath, Aisling starts to kiss down the hollow of his throat, sucking a lovebite against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing Niall to rock his hips against hers.
“Christ Aisling,” Niall says through a strained breath, his head falling back against the wall when she blows over the fresh mark on his skin.
She steps away cautiously, her eyes wide in anxiousness. Was she doing too much? Niall practically whines when the warmth of her body leaves his own far too quickly, and his arms stretch out to bring her back to him.
“Is it too much? We can stop and forget that it even—”
“—What? Christ, who’s being the eejit now? Don’t leave,” Niall rushes out frantically, pulling Aisling flush against his chest to continue what they were doing before she left.
Aisling giggles into his mouth and it’s probably the sweetest sound he’s ever heard (a close second to her groaning into his mouth earlier). Before she can retreat again, he begins walking them backwards until she’s pushed up against the wall separating their bedrooms.
He breaks away and looks at her with a cocked eyebrow, a smirk growing against his strawberry swollen lips. “Mine or yours, sweet Aisling?”
Aisling laughs a bit, her arms still locked around his neck. Her hands are playing with the hair against the back of his neck, and he’s practically purring at the feeling of it. Without really thinking much (because how could she with the way he was looking at her?) she grabs the closest doorknob to her (which so happens to be hers) and opens it swiftly, dragging Niall by his forearms into the room until the backs of her knees hit her mattress and she’s falling into it with a gentle thud.
It’s all tangled limbs and pulled hair and knocking teeth, and they both could never have imagined their night ending this way. Niall practically rips the hidden zipper of Aisling’s dress off (“Sorry babe, can’t stop thinkin’ about what you look like under it”), Aisling tears through the remaining buttons on his white dress shirt, running her fingers through the hair on his chest causing him to groan against her neck (“Do you like that, Niall?”), Niall flips them over and when he’s leaning over her staring at Aisling hungrily in her cute little matching underwear set, he’s practically drooling at the mouth (“Dear god Aisling, you’re beautiful”), and when they’re both stripped down to nothing but skin and Niall’s leaning on his forearms over her, pushing into her with one swift breath, Aisling can feel herself falling apart inside (“Christ Niall, you’re everything”).
And when it’s all over and done with and they’re both lying against each other, breathing in and out, Aisling suddenly has a realization.
Truth is, maybe her and Niall were alone. But, for one night at least, they could forget about that. Why be alone by yourself when you could be alone together?
So with that thought, she cuddles deeper into Niall’s chest, feeling his hand tread through her auburn hair softly. Before she drifts off, he presses a kiss to the crown of her head, mumbling a quiet Happy New Year, sweet Aisling into her hair.
And when she mutters it back to him, sealing it with a kiss to his collarbone, she actually believes it for once.
That it was, truly, a very happy New Year (in the end).
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rami-hoe · 4 years
Text
Confessions (Part five)
Pairing: Josh x reader 
Word Count: 2.3K 
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Graduation was just around the corner, and as much as I wanted to pretend like I was cool about it, I was freaking the fuck out. After the prom everything became far too real for my liking. This was it. On June 25th, I would officially be a high school graduate with the diploma and the hat and everything. University, something that up until this point had seemed like some kind of mythical creature, was now only a few months away. I was finally starting to understand what people meant when they said “the end of an era.” People I’d known for years would disappear from my life. Most of them would never return to it. It’s not like we were all joined at the hip, but the idea of never seeing the people I’d spent six hours a day, five days a week with for the last 13 years again was a lot more frightening than I cared to admit. 
I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, though. I wasn’t going through my graduation freakout alone. Josh was right there, every step of the way. He already had his college plans lined up. He knew exactly where he wanted to go and who he wanted to be. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. The idea that I had to decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life right now was terrifying- I didn’t know how Josh did it. Truth be told, I envied him. I would give anything to be half as certain as he was. There was no apprehension with him, no doubt. He told me he’d known what he wanted to do with his life since the fourth grade. For him, graduation wasn’t a giant leap into the dark abyss that was the rest of your life- it was just another step forward on a path he was already sure of. 
I tried to avoid talking about graduation as much as possible, but it wasn’t exactly easy when Josh was so excited about it. It seemed like every time I saw him, he had something new to tell me about the grad party he was planning, or the program he was planning on taking in the fall. It was a film studies BA and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. It was at a pretty great university too, and he hadn’t really expected to get in. When he got his letter of acceptance, he was over the moon. I wanted to be supportive and happy for him and all that, but whenever he talked about where he was going, I was reminded of the fact that I was standing still. Thankfully, Josh didn’t seem to notice. He was too wrapped up in his plans, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t really feel like discussing my complete and utter lack of direction with someone who had his plan written in stone by the time he was thirteen.
                                                      ♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️
When the bell rang at the end of last period, I grabbed my stuff from my locker and hurried out into the parking lot. This week had been entirely too long, and I was looking forward to finally getting some time to relax. When I got to Josh’s car, I leaned against the passenger’s door and pulled out my phone. Beth and Hannah showed up just a few minutes later. “Where’s Josh?” Beth asked. I shrugged. “Probably just got caught up with Mike or something.” We were waiting there for about ten minutes before Josh stalked out of the building. 
“Took you long enough,” Hannah said. She was just teasing, but Josh shot her a glare anyway. 
“You don’t like waiting, you can walk,” he said. He unlocked the car and got in the driver’s seat. 
“Jeez. I was joking, take it easy,” Hannah mumbled as she and Beth scooted into the backseat. 
“You okay?” I asked quietly as I pulled my door shut. 
“Fine,” he replied. He wasn’t, that much was obvious. I’d learned to read him pretty well over the past decade or so, and on the Josh scale of pissed off, he was at a seven. Not good. But if he didn’t want to talk about it in front of his sisters, I wasn’t going to push it. If it were at a four or five, maybe, but not a seven. “Am I dropping you at home or what?” Josh asked, breaking the… Well, I don’t think you could call it uncomfortable silence since the radio was playing, but it was tense and no one was talking. 
“Nah, I’ll come back with you guys,” I said. When we got back to the Washington’s place, I followed my brooding boyfriend down to the basement. He grabbed two cokes from the mini fridge and plopped down on the couch. 
“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?” I asked as I sat next to him and claimed the second coke. 
“It’s nothing,” he said as he leaned forward to grab the remote. I snatched it out of his hand before he had a chance to turn on the TV. “Y/N!” 
“You’ve been in a bad mood since we left the school,” I said. “What happened?” 
“I just had a bad day, okay?” His jaw tensed as he spoke. Shit, we were moving into eight territory. 
“You were fine this morning, and you were fine at lunch,” I said softly. I didn’t want to fight him. If I got too pushy, he would just get more dismissive. “I just want to help. Talk to me.” 
Josh sighed and put his can down on the table. He didn’t use a coaster, but that table already had too many water rings to count. I was pretty sure his parents bought it knowing Josh would have it looking like shit in no time- it was the only cheap thing they owned. “It’s nothing,” he repeated. “It’s stupid. It’s just…” I didn’t say anything. It seemed best to let him get there on his own. “Ms. Larson stopped me after class today,” he started. Ms. Larson was his English teacher, and one he was none too fond of. “Said she was ‘concerned about me’ and wanted to know what my plans were for after graduation.” He scoffed. “So I told her what I was doing and she just looked so… Shocked. Like she couldn’t believe I actually had a plan.” 
I scooted closer to him. “She doesn’t know the first thing about you,” I said. 
“But she’s not the only one,” he argued. “Everyone- my guidance counselor gave me a pamphlet on exploratory studies before he even asked what I wanted to do. Jess is always making those bullshit jokes about how I’m gonna ‘drink my way through college. My fucking Aunt Lisa called to tell me how surprised and excited she and Uncle Bill were that I was going. Everyone thinks I’m just some stupid slacker who’s gonna mooch off his parents until they die.” 
“Then fuck everyone,” I said. “If any of them really knew you, they’d know there’s nothing to be surprised about.” 
“Isn’t there?” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m just some party boy screw up, right? People are probably laying down bets on how long it takes me to flunk out.” 
I grimaced at the harshness in his voice. Josh was always his biggest critic, and as aloof as he may seem, he took people’s opinions of him to heart. “Don’t talk like that, Josh,” I said. “Take it from someone who does know you- you’re a lot smarter than people gave you credit for. You know what you want out of life, you just aren’t afraid of having some fun while you work towards it. That’s not a screw up.” 
Josh tucked one leg under himself and turned to face me fully. “But what if they’re right.”
“They’re not-” 
“They could be! What if I get there and I can’t do it. I’m not like you, Y/N; I don’t have the kind of options you do.” 
I furrowed my brow. “What?” “I mean, you could do anything, and whatever you decide to do, you’re gonna be great at. You literally can’t choose a program because you have so many options. But all I have is this one thing I think I’m good at, and if I’m not… Then I’m just gonna be exactly what they all think I am: a loser.” 
It took me a minute to process what he’d just said. Was that really what it looked like from the outside? Like I just had too many options? I shook my head. “Josh, I can’t choose a program because I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. I don’t know what I love yet; you do. And that’s exactly why you’re not gonna fail,” I said. “You’ve had this passion in your life for so long; you’re not gonna give up on it until you’ve reached your goal.”
The faintest of smiles twitched onto Josh’s lips. “Is that what you really think or are you just saying that to make me feel better?” 
“I don’t know anyone more willing to put in the work to make their dreams a reality than you,” I said. “You’re gonna kick this program’s ass.” 
Josh leaned in and kissed me softly. “Thank you,” he whispered against my lips. 
I chuckled. “You’re welcome,” I said. “And if anybody else tries to tell you you’re not cut out for this, you send them my way.” 
“You gonna beat them up for me?” 
“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He laughed, and I surrendered the remote I was still holding hostage and cuddled up to him. 
He turned the remote over in his hands a few times, but didn’t turn the TV on. “You know there’s nothing wrong with taking a gap year, right?” 
“I thought we were talking about your college problems,” I said. 
“We were,” he said. “But I didn’t realize you had college problems to talk about. And relationships are supposed to be, uh.. What’s that word? It’s like mutual but- oh- reciprocal!” He grinned proudly. “So we talked about my problem, now we can talk about yours.”  
I sat up. “It’s not really a problem,” I said. “I’m just feeling like I should have my shit together more than I do.” 
“I mean, how many people honestly have their shit together at eighteen?” he asked. “I don’t think it’s very many.” 
“It seems like everybody from where I’m standing,” I said with a sigh. 
“Nah,” Josh said. “It’s just a lot of people pretending to know what the hell they’re doing in life so the rest of the world doesn’t find out they’re scared shitless. Myself included. At least you have the balls to admit you need some time to figure it out. Plenty of people go to uni right out of high school just because they’re worried about what people will think if they don’t.” 
“I didn’t realize being aimless in life was such a courageous act,” I said sarcastically. 
“You’re not aimless,” Josh protested. “You want to figure out what you want to do- that’s an aim.” 
I snorted. “I don’t think that counts,” I said. 
“Of course it counts!” He argued. “What bigger goal is there than figuring out what you want to do for the rest of your life? It’s not a given. Some people never get there. You’re not taking a year to fuck off and do nothing- you’re taking a year to make a massive decision you haven’t had time to really think about yet. There is nothing wrong with that.” 
My gaze fell to the rings on the coffee table. “I hate it when you make sense,” I said. “It’s a lot easier for me to stay angsty when you aren’t being all sweet and encouraging.” 
Josh chuckled and kissed the side of my head. “Too bad. I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.” 
I smiled up at him. “I love you.” 
He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. “I love you too.” 
“Can we watch something stupid now? I need to wash off all this coming of age shit,” I said with a grin. 
Josh laughed and turned on the TV. The sci-fi network came on; it was playing a marathon of the original Star Trek series. It took about five seconds to recognize the episode and gasp. “Oh my god, it’s Spock’s Brain,” he said. He turned his head towards me with this huge, open-mouthed smile. “If you want something stupid, this is the goddamn motherload.” He grabbed the remote, paused the show, and leapt up from the couch. “Hold on, I need to get some snacks. This is a masterpiece of the small screen- we need the full experience.” He ran up the stairs and into the kitchen. I wasn’t done laughing by the time he came back with a bag of Doritos in one hand and a bag of chocolate chips in the other. “We didn’t have any movie candy,” he said. “But these’ll be fine.” He sat back down, grabbed the remote, and looked at me. “Are you ready for the worst thing you;ve ever seen in your life?” 
“Hell yeah,” I said, and he pressed play. In that moment, watching Josh eat a handful of chocolate chips while this god awful episode played, it didn’t matter that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I knew who I wanted to spend it with. And that was enough. 
76 notes · View notes
stusbunker · 4 years
Text
What Lingers Within: Three
A Supernatural Fan-fiction Mini Series
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Featuring: Past Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Written for: @thisismysecrethappyplace​
Word Count: 2316
Amazing Beta’ing by: @itmighthavebeenintentional​
Aesthetic and preread by @thoughtslikeaminefield​
Summary: Sam and Dean leave the reader in capable hands, but she doesn’t stay put.
Series Masterlist
^*^*^
               Dean was waiting for Sam to tell him to leave. They sat in the living room nursing beers and zoning out to a college football game. Her cousin, Michelle, remembered him, barely, but it helped establish a nearly tenable foothold into her life. Their hostess left them to check on her before calling it a night.
        They were completely out of their element now. Dean felt Sam’s discomfort like he felt the pull to her side, each their own piece of himself: empathy and reflex. But Sam held his tongue and for that Dean was grateful.
        Unceremoniously, they crashed on the coaches, backs protesting all the while. Soon Sam’s snores muted the peaceful country noises. Dean couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. She was so close he could almost smell her and yet he felt farther from her than he had since the day he had set her free.
        He just needed to make sure she was settled, able to ward off your run-of-the-mill monsters and then they’d be off.  Never to darken her doorstep again. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
*^*^*^*^
        Her little second floor walk up was shabby enough to be affordable and out of the way enough to be secure. The peeling white paint seemed to collect with each trip up the back steps. Dean brushed the remnants off the landing with the side of his boot as he knocked. He gave her a minute before bending down and snagging the spare key beneath the cracked planter, the dahlias had started to wilt with the autumn nights, but he knew she wasn’t going to scrap them yet. The old lock protested the force he used but gave in soon enough.
        He called out, finding her bag by the door, but little else to indicate she was home. That old familiar panic started to creep in as he came upon the abandoned living/dining room.
        “Honey? You home?” he sing-songed. “It’s me. I left Sammy at Bobby’s, hoping you’d--,” he broke off as he saw her bedroom door open a crack. “Have some time off.”
         He tapped the door wider, peaking around the frame. That’s when he spotted her, feet hanging off the end of the bed, shoes still on. She was drooling face down, pillow held tight in her arms with one of his old flannels spread out over the pillowcase, cradling her cheek.
         His breath caught in his chest, it felt like he was seeing something that wasn’t yet meant for him. A gift he had to wait to unwrap, but how he itched to. The way her lashes landed on her rounded cheeks; her lips open with the peaceful rhythm of her breath. Steady and serene. How’d he get so lucky?
         With practiced care, Dean slipped her shoes off her feet, setting them down so as not to wake her. Then he shrugged out of his jacket, since she was pinning all her blankets beneath her, and draped the heavy canvas over her torso. As quietly as he found her, he let her be, busying himself in the kitchen while she rested.
        She rushed out of the bedroom with his jacket an hour later, voice cracking in excitement. Dean thought his heart couldn’t stand much more aching fullness. She threw herself against his chest, smashing his ass against the edge of the counter as she scaled him like a tree. He’d craved how she used her whole body to love him, never dainty or timid. Before he could mention dinner, she was stripping him right there against the laminate.
        That was the day she gave him his own key.
^*^*^
               You woke up to an actual rooster crow, which was deceptively before sunrise. The wooden floorboards, worn and frigid beneath your feet. After creeping down the stairs to the bathroom you decided to poke around for some coffee. Overly aware that Dean and Sam were only a breakfast table away from your early morning sneaking about; you tried to be as quiet as possible. It didn’t work.
               “Hey---what are you trying to do?” Dean stage whispered over the edge of the couch. His hair fluffed at an angle and his face scrunched against the brightening day. You hated how cute he looked in that moment and replied justly.
               “Making coffee, butt out.”
               He licked his lips and cocked his head. “It’s in the pantry. Michelle gave me the heads up, figured I’d be up first.”
               Right, of course she did. You didn’t reply but stormed over to the sliding door off the kitchen and whipped it open, hundred-year-old tracks be damned. You woke Sam and didn’t bother feeling bad about it. He was involved with this fuckery too. Now that everyone in the direct vicinity was up and glaring at each other; the coffee took no time to brew. You let them serve themselves as you sat on the far end of the table, staring into the hazy morning across the hills to the east. You had a speech rehearsed, though now were too annoyed with their stupid faces to converse with them civilly. Instead, you stewed.
               Naturally, Dean sat down next to you, shoulders hunched over his coffee, toeing the line of being in your bubble. He still smelled like the leather of the car, maybe it was just his scent. You tried not to think about how soothing it was and took a long pull from your mug to stop yourself from letting go of your anger.
               “I almost forgot you’re less of a morning person than me,” Dean said as if to himself, the smirk evident in his words.
               “Yeah, well, it must be nice to know so much about me. Some of us don’t have the luxury,” you snipped, pulling your knees to your chest as you balanced against the back of the old chair.
               Dean sat back, turning his entire body to yours. “Fair enough. What else do you want me to say? I’ve apologized.”
               Your head snapped up, eyes boring into his earnest gaze. “I want you to fix me. My memories. I want it all back, Dean.”
               Sam cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that’s possible. Cas, the angels, none of them are like they used to be.”
               “He should at least try and call him,” you said to Sam pointedly about Dean.
               “Oh? He should, should he?!” Dean bit back. You hugged your knees tighter and glared at him, but something slowly unraveled within, as if he was a forgotten language you were deciphering. He was willing you to understand. You felt his frustration and his annoyance with you and himself, it came off him in waves. It felt so close to how you felt that you didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at him. God it was like he was inside your head, feelings that in tune came from somewhere, somewhere bone deep.
               “You need to stop looking at me like that,” you whispered, collecting the hair on top of your head into a rushed ponytail. “It’s too familiar.”
               “Like what?” Dean tried to brush it off.
               “Like that,” Sam agreed. Dean pursed his lips and gave Sam the stink eye. “Look, I’ll call Cas. But we are going to head out, let you get back to your life. Michelle said you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
               “Right.” Dean stood, pushing in his chair. He dug in his inside pocket for a card. “Look, if anything comes up or Cas doesn’t show in the next few days--- call me. I put Sam’s number on there too, just in case. In the meantime--- keep salt with you and uh, maybe brush up on your exorcisms.”
               You laughed mirthlessly until you realized he was serious. You swallowed, feeling his fingers brush against yours as you plucked the tiny card from his outstretched hand.
               “Tell me you’re going to be alright,” Dean whispered, looking at you through the lush foliage of his lashes.
               “Only if you can say the same,” you challenged, climbing to your feet. Dean shook his head and rubbed his lips. “Don’t think about disappearing for good. We’ve got beef now, buddy.” You pointed at his chest vehemently with his card.
               “Is that what it is? Awesome, really needed another nemesis, didn't we, Sammy?” Dean looked over his shoulder to realize that his brother had left you two alone, again. The infectious grin softened as he caught up to what lay under all your bravado.
               “Go on, I’ll be fine.” You rubbed your upper arms against the drafty kitchen. Dean didn’t say anything, he simply leaned down, lips barely a breath against your temple. Just when you didn’t think you could keep from touching him, he was gone, turning out of the kitchen and through the mudroom. Minutes later the rumble of the Impala disappeared over the hills. He hadn’t looked back.
^*^*^
               Three days at your cousin Michelle’s, and you were already itching for the city. No word from the angel meant you were slowly going out of your mind with boredom. Eventually, you came to the decision to clean out your cubicle. You wouldn’t face the constant scrutiny from your coworkers after everything that had happened from Chase’s death to Katelyn’s arrest at your apartment. One last rodeo and you’d be able to move on. Again. Always moving passed one hurtle or another, never stable, constantly in flux.
               Nervously, you climbed into the passenger seat of the old pick up. It had been years since you’d been to the farmhouse, since before your aunt and uncle had become snowbirds, leaving it to Michelle. But you knew every dip in the road out of the valley, the grooves in the earth held more pieces of your past than your mind seemed to anymore.
               “You gonna call him?” Michelle asked, overly casually.
               “I’m gonna give his buddy another day or so and then--- maybe?” You landed heavy on your own doubt.
               “He seemed like he misses you,” she added gently, not taking her eyes off the road.
               “Yeah, well, that sounds like it was his choice,” you tried to be flippant. Neither of you bought it.
               “Still, couldn’t hurt, especially after the last one,” Michelle kept digging.
               “I’m positive it still would hurt, Chelle,” you shifted, throwing your feet on the dashboard and leaning against the quilt covered bench seat.
               “His brother single?” Michelle tried to mask the tease in her tone.
               You couldn’t hold back the chuckle at her change of topic. “Do you want me to call him for you?”
               “He like older women? I’ve gotta have ten years on that one,” she shrugged, half considering it.
               “Couldn’t hurt,” you threw back, the mood salvaged as the truck crawled into the thick lines of traffic.
               It was just before quitting time when you arrived at work, stopping first by the copy room for a spare box to clear off your desk. You stacked the remaining reams of paper onto another box when you heard a dramatic gasp.
               “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Oh my god, how are you doing? We heard what happened, or some of it. Can you believe they let her out on bail? Not even twelve hours and she was free as a bird,” Gracie had yet to pause for air.
               “I’m sorry, what?” You interrupted.
               “Yeah, Katelyn’s out. Something about evidence tampering or false statements from someone they couldn’t locate after the fact?” She looked apologetic; it wasn’t enough. Everything in your stomach seemed to plummet to the floor.
               “Have you seen her? Has she been back?” You tried to remain calm, it didn’t work.
               “What? No! God, that’d be rich if she showed up here. I think the upper ups were notified and then it kind of spread like wildfire. Roy is filling in this week until they bring somebody in from another branch.”
               “Roy? The DM?” You felt ill.
               “Yeah? Who else, I mean, no one else has access to everything Katelyn did,” Gracie said it like you were an idiot. There was only one person Katelyn would have done what she did for, and he was sitting in the office on the other side of the wall. You had to get out of there before he saw you.
               “Look, do me a favor? Don’t mention I was here? It was just too soon, ya know?” You tossed the empty box back onto the stack. You eyed the doorway and tried to make a quick exit strategy.
               “You’re kidding? You just got here. Everyone wants to see you!” Gracie insisted.
               “Yeah, about that--- don’t really want to be the center of attention. Or cause for alarm. Just, give me like ten minutes and you can tell anyone anything. Deal?” Your eyes kept darting about the space, hoping to make it clear of the large open plan office before anyone else saw you.
               “I guess--- Wait! You’re scared, aren’t you? What’s the matter?” Gracie stepped closer and did a terrible job whispering. “Is it Roy?”
               “Gracie, listen. I’ve had a terrible week. I can’t right now,” you gave up and just walked away, head down, slinking around the bend for the exit. The same door you stepped out of to find Chase’s bloody body a week before. The yellow tape was still fluttering in place as you booked it down the alleyway, away from your office. Just before you made it back to the street, your phone buzzed.
              >Everything alright? It was Michelle. 
You exhaled in relief and rounded the mouth of the alley to meet her out front. Before you made it to the corner, a grating voice called your name. Katelyn. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, but as you contemplated ignoring her, a shadow stepped into your path. A heavy hand fell over your mouth before you could scream.
^*^*^
General Tags: @flamencodiva​ @dolphincliffs​ @dontshootmespence​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​  @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @foxyjwls007​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008​ @princessofthefandomrealm​                              @wingedcatninja​​
Series Tags: @tiggytaylor​​  @vicmc624​
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Read On: Chapter Four
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softdadcarlos · 4 years
Text
Date Me
Masterlist
Fandom: Resident Evil/Biohazard
Pairing: Jill/Carlos
AU: College students!Carlos and Jill
Summary: Upon his first meeting with Jill, Carlos was whipped. But with constantly being shot down only to be teased by long time friend Tyrell, Carlos is determined to try anything.
Requested by @xnearyx​ and an anon. I am so sorry that this is basically crack.
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There was never a dull day at the College of Raccoon City. Doors had strange locking mechanisms and puzzles that you had to solve in order to even get into the class. And unless you were Ada Wong, you’d need a fucking miracle to get into the room after a lesson was scheduled to start. It wasn’t unusual to see Ada scaling the outside of the main campus building or Chris Redfield brute-forcing a door open. The faculty seem to be okay with all this… Well all of them except Marvin. Poor Marvin was the new head of security on campus and could only give hints to help students out. It was legitimately written into his contract. And what happened to the previous head of security Mr Irons? It happened when Professor Burkins bought his daughter to show her what he does for a living. Mr Irons was taking an interest in her and the next thing you know he’s mysteriously fallen down two flights of stairs and Professor Burkin was taken in for questioning. So yes, never a dull day at all.
Which is why Carlos didn’t bat an eye when he saw the college’s star football player, Nemmy, approach S.T.A.R.S captain, Jill Valentine. S.T.A.R.S was the college’s soccer team but don’t ask what it means, no one knows. What did have Carlos preparing to intervein was when things went from calm to hostile, in the blink of an eye Nemmy was throwing a punch at Jill… And she fucking caught it! She caught his fist and thrown him judo style over her shoulder!
“Holy shit. What a woman…” Carlos uttered in amazement before movement out his peripheral vision caught his attention. Dragging his eyes from the victorious captain, Carlos spotted the silver-haired Nikolai creeping up behind her, trying to get the drop on her. Carlos was quick to run and subdue the would-be assailant, getting him into a headlock.
“Hey!” Nikolai shouted, a mistake on his part.
Quick as a flash Jill whipped around and, as soon as she spotted the struggling bug-eyed bastard, kicked him in the dick. Carlos immediately let go, letting the man fall into a heap on the floor cupping his delicates.
“I told you Nikolai: ‘The next time I see you I’ll be taking away your ability to reproduce’. Did you really think I’d let you and those other Umbrella Scholarship bastards spike the drinks of my girls?” Jill growled out, crouching down to jab at him.
Carlos awkwardly cleared his throat, he and his friend Tyrell were also on the Umbrella scholarship programme… Jill looked up at him, smiling. Carlos was done for, her smile was so precious as well as her need for justice. Definitely his kind of girl.
“Oh, sorry about this. Thanks for the save earlier.”
Carlos scratched his beard, looking away so he doesn’t get entranced by her ocean blue eyes, “No problem. The asshole is in my business class and let’s just say we have clashing views on workers rights and treatment.” Jill raised a single perfect eyebrow in question. “He’s a militant conservative capitalist. I’m a liberal socialist.”
Jill nodded getting up out of her crouch, “Fair enough, well best be going before these two recover. You should too.”
And with that, she walked away.
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Two months passed. Two months of Carlos attending S.T.A.R.S matches and practices so that he could see the girl who stole his heart in action. Boy, seeing her shout out orders to her teammates was something incredible. It also meant two months of talking to her afterwards and asking her out to dinner, which always got shot down because “I need to focus on my matches and studies. I don’t have time for a boyfriend”.
And Tyrell hadn’t been blind to his friend’s new-formed habit that has him arriving in their shared apartment later than usual and out on weekend mornings.
“So who are you hung up on this time? I haven’t seen you this down in the dumps since that girl you were crushing on in high school started dating that Brad guy.”
Carlos sighed, head in hand as he stared down at the assignment he was working on, “It’s Jill-”
Tyrell snorted, an amused smirk on his face, “Captian of the women’s soccer team Jill?” Carlos didn’t respond, giving Tyrell his answer, “Man you better give up on that soon. I heard that she’s never dated anyone in her entire time here.”
“But I can’t T, she’s just so incredible. How could I possibly stop thinking of someone who cares about her team so much she’ll sacrifice her social life and dare to go toe to toe with Nemmy? Fucking Nemmy. And on top of that, sometimes if she’s free and I’m late to a lesson, she’ll pick the doors lock so I can get in. And you know how fucking weird the doors are here. That is an honest to god talent right there.”
“Yeah, but didn’t she accidentally set off a trap that had the ceiling nearly crush her if it wasn’t Professor Bruton?”
“That was in freshman year, we’re seniors now.”
Tyrell just shook his head and got back to work, knowing that there was no reasoning with Carlos once he set on something.
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It was after a victorious match against the male S.T.A.R.S team that it happened. Carlos was waiting outside the women’s locker room like he usually did. Not in a creepy kind of way. If anything he chugged respect-women-juice as if he would die without it. No, it was simply because that’s normally where he’d wait for Jill to talk to her and make sure Nikolai wasn’t lurking nearby to ambush her. However, this time while he was waiting, a freshman named Claire approached him.
“Hi there!” She greeted him cheerfully, smiling up at him.
Carlos being someone who never ignores a person unless given a reason to, smiled back, “Hi.”
“I’ve seen you at all our games and practices for the past couple of months, I love that you’re so supportive of the team.” She was positively beaming at him, her hand coming to rest on his arm. “Do you play any sports? If you do, I’d love to go watch.”
“Uh yeah, I’m on the football team under the Umbrella scholarship- but I’m nothing like some of the other guys on the team. I heard about how they tried to spike your drinks.”
“Oh, I know you’re not like them. Jill told us about how you helped her kick some sense into Nikolai… So if I asked you to dinner after your next practice, would that be okay?”
The sound of Jill’s voice coming from behind startled them, Claire’s hand quickly returning to her side, “I’m afraid he can’t. He’ll be busy.”
Carlos was confused, “I’ll be busy?”
“Of course, you’ll be having dinner with me. Isn’t that what you’ve been asking for these past couple of months?” Jill’s hand came to rest where Claire’s had been as she turned to face her slightly, “So sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you, but I just found a free slot in my time today so it’s a little impromptu.”
Claire pouted but listened to her captain, walking away to meet up with her older brother who shot Carlos the “I’m watching you” sign.
Carlos looked to Jill, “What happened to ‘I can’t date because I’m dating my GPA’?”
Jill met his gaze but couldn’t last long before looking away, bashful, “It's selfish but I didn’t like the idea of you going on a date with anyone that isn’t me.”
Carlos grinned, wide and boy-ish, “I’ve only got eyes for you, chica.”
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A/N: I love hearing from you guys! Please tell me what parts you liked!
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Future astronauts could make lunar buildings out of moon dust and pee.
That’s the suggestion of chemist Anna-Lena Kjøniksen and her colleagues. They made a cement from urea and faux lunar soil. Urea (Yu-REE-uh) is a major component of urine.
When humans take up long-term residence on other planets or the moon, they will need to pack light. That’s in part because sending materials from Earth is expensive. NASA has estimated that every pound of material sent into Earth orbit costs about $10,000.
Tapping into local resources could keep costs down. Researchers have suggested using lunar soil to make concrete or cement. Astronauts could then 3-D print their dwellings with this material. But most cement requires a lot of water, which is scarce on the moon. And water is awfully heavy to haul into space.
Explainer: What is 3-D printing?
On Earth, builders can add a chemical to reduce the amount of water needed in cement. This additive is called a super-plasticizer. It works by keeping a drier mix from getting too crumbly. It also leaves the mix flexible enough to be used in a 3-D printer. But most superplasticizers are organic compounds, meaning rich in carbon. These, too, are in short supply on the moon, says Kjøniksen, of Østfold University College in Halden, Norway.
“I was thinking, what’s available on the moon? If you add humans,” she wondered, “then what do you have available?” Then it hit her. Maybe human waste could turn into something useful.
Kjøniksen had previously used urea to make plastic mixtures less viscous, or thick. Urea breaks hydrogen bonds between molecules. That reduces friction and lets the molecules slide past each other more easily. She’d never heard of someone using it in cement, “but I thought it was worth a try.”
A silica and aluminum oxide powder acted as a stand-in for lunar dust. It was the main ingredient in Kjøniksen’s cement. Its chemical content is similar to fly ash, the main ingredient in common cement mixes. It just has larger and more crystalline grains.
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Scientists 3-D printed these miniature walls with a cement containing simulated lunar dust and urea — the second most abundant compound in human pee. Future astronauts could use a similar combo to build their own habitats, the researchers say. CREDIT: © S. PILEHVAR, ESA
Her team mixed that powder with powdered urea. It was not distilled from real urine. They bought their urea from a chemical supply company. They topped off this mix with some water to make the cement. Compared with two other superplasticizers used in construction projects on Earth, “the urea worked very well,” Kjøniksen reports.
The mixture held its shape under light weight and withstood temperature changes. Extruding the cement through a tube and stacking several layers on top of each other using a 3-D printer made a tiny, stable wall. The team shared its findings in the February 20 Journal of Cleaner Production.
Kjøniksen plans to test the cement in more extreme temperatures and in a vacuum chamber that mimics the moon’s lack of atmosphere. The next step would be scaling the wall up to a more realistic size. She also wants to test whether future astronauts would have to purify urine, or if they could use pee directly to make the cement.
In real life, making urea cement will probably be more complicated than just peeing in a bucket, says Belinda Rich. She’s a materials scientist at the European Space Agency in Noordwijk, the Netherlands. She was not involved in this study but is working with Kjøniksen’s group on follow-up tests. But overall, she says, making cement with urea on the moon could be practical.
“It sounds like such a daft idea,” Rich says. “But here we are — it works.”
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inejkaz · 4 years
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i was tagged by @mollyweasly to answer the following 73 questions! thank you for tagging me steph ♥ 
on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? i'm actually pretty content and the only thing that i'm rdreading right now is my upcoming finals so maybe 6!
describe yourself in a hashtag? #alwaystired
if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? no one comes to mind but steph's answer was chris evans and i'd say the same tbh 👀
if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? uh maybe "dumb bitch" or "chaotic mess" LMAO idk honestly my life isn't that interesting most of the time
what’s one thing people don’t know about you? that i'm lowkey depressed. most of my old friends know this but they don't rlly know how bad it makes me feel sometimes & i don't think i'll ever tell my college friends abt this except for one person!
what’s your wake up ritual? lay in bed for another 5-15 mins, check the time, and brush my teeth. next i'd either shower, workout, or attend online class
what’s your go to bed ritual? just on my phone looking at useless things and answering my friends' messages. i'll get tired soon so i'll just daydream and sleep. lately i've been listening to music to help me sleep!
what’s your favorite time of day? late night and early morning
your go to for having a good laugh? i love watching lip sync battles. my favorites are by emma stone, tom holland, anne hathaway & channing tatum!
dream country to visit? the UK! my cousin talks abt it all the time and now she's taking her postgrad degree there which makes me incredibly jealous 😢 but honestly i'm dying to travel europe as a whole!
what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? probably when my high school friends bought me the doc martens shoes that i LOVE for my 17th birthday! i love them and miss them even tho many are not in touch with me anymore
heels or flats/sneakers? flats/sneakers definitely! i've never tried heels tbh i can only endure wedges and they alr hurt SO much
vintage or new? both
who do you want to write your obituary? probably my best friend!
style icon? taylor swift during the red era, noora sætre, orion carloto, ashley aka best.dressed!
what are three things you cannot live without? books, internet, family
what’s one ingredient you put in everything? salt
what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? taylor swift, chris evans, audrey hepburn
what’s your biggest fear in life? the unknown, anything horror & reptiles esp lizards (i can't stand reptiles AT ALL i'd literally cry and die if i have to touch one or sleep in the same room with one)
window or aisle seat? window
what’s your current tv obsession? haven't been watching any tv lately but i've been watching mukbangs on youtube a lot
favorite app? line (a messaging app mostly used by indonesians. i rlly like the stickers and themes i own lmao)
secret talent? i can play guitar just a lil bit
most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? either drinking beers with my friends on a school field trip or not telling my parents that i went to the city alone during college just to hangout by myself
how would you define yourself in three words? introverted, chaotic, anxious
favorite piece of clothing you own? an adidas jacket that was on a 50% sale for international women's day!!! 
a must have clothing item that everyone should have? black pants
a superpower you would want? invisibility and mind control!!!
what’s inspiring you in life right now? since i was a little kid, i've always been inspired by my cousin. she's my role model!
best piece of advice you’ve received? to literally BELIEVE in yourself
best advice you’d give your teenage self? don't be so self-aware bc everyone's busy with themselves, make more friends, cherish your time in school more
a book everyone should read? harry potter series, the raven cycle
what would you like to be remembered for? for being a good, positive person
how do you define beauty? beauty is whatever that evokes a positive feeling out of oneself i guess!
what do you love most about your body? my eyes
best way to take a rest/decompress? skincare, listen to soothing music, drink a warm beverage, watch smth that's easy to watch, and just sleep! 
favorite place to view art? galleries, but i've only been to one sadly
if your life was a song, what would the title be? maybe "paradox" or "misunderstood"
if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano! but it's expensive and not portable so if i'm being realistic, it'd be guitar
if you had a tattoo, where would it be? in the back of my neck! also maybe on any of my fingers or below my ribcage
dolphins or koalas? koalas
what’s your spirit animal? deer!
best gift you’ve ever received? doc martens shoes given by my friends!
best gift you’ve given? i think i wrote my friend letters to open when she's in different moods once
what’s your favorite board game? monopoly
what’s your favorite color? pink, purple, yellow, monochrome
least favorite color? i just dislike bright obnoxious colors
diamond or pearls? diamonds
drugstore makeup or designer? both, but i mostly can't afford designer anyway so..
blow-dry or air-dry? both
pilates or yoga? i've never tried any actually
coffee or tea? both, but i'm leaning towards tea
what’s the weirdest word in the english language? can't think of any right now..
dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk chocolate!!!
stairs or elevators? elevators
summer or winter? winter
you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? burgers!!
a dessert you don’t like? basically i won't like anything with fruits
a skill you’re working on mastering? photoshop i guess? i'm planning to learn coding too now that i have the time!!
best thing to happen to you today? probably finishing my gifset! but honestly, i was supposed to be studying lmao
worst thing to happen to you today? i didn't study lmao
best compliment you’ve ever received? i don't think it's anything that memorable so i can't really think of one
favorite smell? jasmine
hugs or kisses? both
if you made a documentary, would it be about? space, mythology
last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? i get a little teary eyed if i come across a touching content on instagram/twitter tbh lmao. but i'd say the last movie that made me cry so bad was her (2013)
lipstick or lipgloss? lipstick
sweet or savory? savory
girl crush? emma watson
how do you know your in love? don't think i've ever been in love, i've only experienced like a very long crush so...
a song you can listen to on repeat? there are a lot... but for now, woman by mumford & sons and anything by taylor swift
if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? taylor swift!!!
what are you most excited for about this time in your life? i've just been enjoying editing for tumblr a lot, i haven't really posted consistent content in my 10 years of being here so that's been fun. i also want to learn coding and become an overall healthier person by working out regularly & eating mindfully! honestly i'm trying to build my confidence and become healthier, both mentally and physically 
tagging: @dianaprincie @cllianmurphy @cinderllas @edgarallan @rosamunqpike @gamoora @nataliamaximoff (sorry if you've done this before, feel free to ignore!)
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princeanxious · 6 years
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💕: “Years I’ve spent dormant in the earth, thinking of my horrible revenge upon humanity, yet when you set me free I suddenly had seconds thoughts” for Anxciet? :>
,,,,i tried! (This isn’t beta’d so all mistakes are mine) enjoy theres two disaster gays!
Virgil had bought the golden gothic locket from a seemingly innocent and unassuming booth at the market, the booth owner had been sweet and kind and had even given him a discount on it because it matched his aesthetic! And well, as a struggling college student, how was he to say no?
He’d worn it days on end, feeling safe with the weight of it resting against his collarbone, careful to maintain the little locket’s nice condition with the occasional TLC. Never had he expected anything more from the small little locket, even when his nightmares noticeably died down after receiving it. Leave it to an entitled thief at the park later that month to prove him wrong.
It was pretty late in the day and Virgil was chilling on a bench, sketching a concept piece in his sketchbook. Occasionally he would pause to get a gauge on his visual, his non-dominant hand loosely clutching the locket as he fiddled with the intricate engravings. Honestly, it was no wonder that it would gain him some looks from time to time, being a bright but still gothic gold, it was the only stand out color that he wore amongst his dark blacks and purples.
“Excuse me, Sir?” A female voice from a distance called out, causing Virgil to glance up. A pretty woman was flirtingly sauntering up to him, obviously trying to catch his attention with a self-satisfied smirk when his eyes met hers and flicked away again. She seemed sure she’d caught his full attention now, completely oblivious to the fact that Virgil was completely and utterly gay, not to mention uninterested in the confrontation.
“I couldn’t help but notice, you’ve got a pretty cute necklace there. Where’d ya get it, honey?” She laid it on thick, batting her eyes and speaking in a heavily, almost too suspiciously sweet tone. Virgil blinked at her, once, twice.
“Um..? I don’t think you’ll get one exactly like mine but there’s a vender that-“ The girl held her hand up to silence him, before looking at her nails with a sorely fake, sorrowful look.
“Oh that just won’t do, Doll. I like yours! Any chance I could buy it off you?” Virgil blinked at her, and tried not to chuckle, completely confused. Who walks up to a stranger, offering to buy their own personal items off of them?
“Uhh, no? It’s uhm, it’s a gift from my grandma, and I’m not willing to part with it.” That was a lie, of course, but lately he’d been finding himself a little more comfortable with doing that lately if it meant it got him out of harmless situations like this. Plus, he really didn’t want to give it up! However, the stranger did not seem to want to accept that answer.
Before he knew what was happening, this woman was screaming at him, calling him entitled and a rotten, selfish teenager, and plenty of other nasty things under the sun. Immediately, the sudden onslaught had caused Virgil to curl up, staring up wide eyed and terrified of the older woman now standing above him and shouting at him. Then his body’s shaking began, and Virgil knew he was in for it. He’d frozen up like a petrified fawn in front of an over glorified wolf, and the overwhelming negative emotions being projected at him was tearing him apart inside.
Getting fed up with the boy’s lack of response, she reached for the necklace, growling out “If I can’t have it, then no body can!” Before giving a sharp tug. The old metal snapped, causing Virgil to jerk back as he watched this stranger slam the fragile locket to the concrete pavement. It made a sickening crack as it broke in two. However, before the woman could truly be satisfied with her wrath and before Virgil could properly mourn his loss, black smoke billowed out and around the two. Virgil, still on the verge of an emotional breakdown, could only think about how that much smoke couldn’t have naturally fit in that tiny locket.
The woman stumbled back, temporarily broken out of her petulance to escape the pitch black smoke with a shout. In a matter of seconds, the smoke asmassed together and tightly formed together, before dissipating. In its wake, a tall, lean man was left in its place. He wore dark clothing, a suit of dark grey and a golden accented vest, a dark bowler hat tilted stylishly upon his dark hair. His back was facing Virgil, but the woman, from what Virgil could see, looked terrified.
“Well, Hello there. I didn’t think I’d be summoned by something so pathetic.. one hundred years in that stupid prison and this is the welcoming I get?” The woman was still in utter disbelief, glancing over to Virgil with confused anger resurfacing.
“Is this some kind of act? You think I’m an idiot, huh, Brat? Just because you’re friend was able to pull this,-” She gestured towards the particularly disinterested man in front of her, “this stupid prank or whatever off! I’ll sue you for harassment!”
At this point, the woman looked haughty and ready to do something even more rash. However, before she could move, the man flicked his wrist, and the woman’s hand slapped over her mouth.
“My, you could drone on and on, couldn’t you? Please, a mortal like you doesn’t scare me. Now please, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave.” The woman’s eyes briefly flashed yellow, and she turned around and walked off without a huff. With a sigh, the man turned around to the bench to sit, only to pause as he finally took notice of the shaking man curled up on the bench. Now Virgil could see why the woman had been surprised, realistic green scales were attractively scattered up one side of the man's face, his eyes mismatched of green and yellow. For a being that was apparently trapped within that locket for at least, what, a hundred years? He still looked as sharp as a young adult, and attractive too.
“Oh, hello.” The man’s voice had softened considerably, apparently surprised into sympathy at seeing a young man so visibly shaken. Before Virgil could muster up a response or even figure out a proper reaction to the situation, the man dipped elegantly to one knee, bowing in front of Virgil with the flourish of his hat.
“Excuse me, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you! I am called Dorian, however, you can call me anytime.~” The mysterious man called Dorian held out a hand to Virgil, smiling warmly when the young man’s shaking hand rested itself in the others gloved hand. “You’ve been caring for me in all this recent time, I recognize that panicked heartbeat, My Dear. How lucky am I?” Dorian’s adoring gaze never left Virgil’s pretty flushed face as the other brought the still trembling hand to his lips. All Virgil’s frazzled mind could think to do was make him giggle at the absurdity of the situation, and close his eyes and cover his face because his mind wasn’t even sure he was breathing.
Surrounded by his thoughts, he did not hear the other get up, nor did he feel when the other sat beside him. However, he did feel the arm that pulled him closer to the other man, gentle and loose, yet still comforting. For a few long moments the pair sat in silence.
As Virgil calmed down, his mind slowly came to terms that his company was not really human, but found that his tired mind did not really care. Lowering his hands, Virge glanced at the taller being next to him who was gazing up at the darkening shades of the sky. Leaning against Dorian’s arm a bit more, he joined the other in his gazing at the sunset splashed sky. Another long moment of silence stretched past them, before Dorian finally found his voice to speak.
“...Years I’ve spent dormant in the earth, thinking of my horrible revenge upon humanity, and yet when you set me free I suddenly had second thoughts..” Dorian hummed, meeting Virgil’s gaze solidly for a moment before gazing out across the park. “It’s been long since I’ve stretched these legs, used these eyes, held another so close.. I’ve missed it dearly. I hope you don’t mind, uh-“ Dorian paused, realizing what he’d forgotten. Here he was, cuddling with a mortal that he didn’t even know the true name of!
Virgil seemed to catch on, chuckling softly, “It’s Virgil, Dorian. My name? And.. don’t worry about it. I totally get being touch starved, dude.” Dorian smiled sadly, disappointed that this human was feeling the consequences of lack of contact too. He let the others name roll off his forked tongue, an inhuman purr escaping him at such a pretty name. Dorian didn’t miss the shiver that passed through Virgil in reaction to the deep voice, but kept his thoughts to himself about it for now.
“I think.. A proper night of introduction is in order. A walk around the park, or this fascinating city, if you will?” Dorian smiled, standing up and reaching out a gloved hand for Virgil to take. Accepting this weird fate, Virgil just shook his head with a smile and took the others hand, allowing Dorian, ever the gentleman, to link arms with him.
“What about your um, scales?” Virgil asked, hoping that they wouldn’t get anymore stares than a man in a suit and a man in full goth attire could attract. In a swift movement of a hand over Dorian’s face, the scales vanished. Replacing them was breathtaking vitiligo, the yellow eye becoming blue to accompany Dorian’s green one. Virgil laughed softly, face flushing at the beautiful man before him but still keeping his shy smile present.
“Now that that is settled, how about that walk, hmm?” Dorian grinned, and with Virgil’s agreeing nod, the two disaster gays from different times were off to traverse the city.
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infinitesimal-grey · 5 years
Text
Prince Starved
Prinxiety G/t College AU
Online friends Roman (Giant) and Virgil (Human) meet for the first time when they find they've been going to the same college. They're both nervous gay wrecks.
Story Warnings: Swearing, bullying, Roman, feeling of helplessness mention of blood, bruises, fighting, violence, mention of abusive parents, abuse scars, attempted murder, maybe more
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, bullying, violence, choking (not the kinky kind)
Word Count: 2,514
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Prologue
Roman Knight and Virgil Rivers have been best friends for two years now, but they’ve never met in person.
In fact, they lived on opposite coasts, Roman from California and Virgil from Rhode Island. They both were mutuals on Discord for the longest time before a mutual friend, Talyn, put them in the same group chat together with a few other people. At first they seemed as if they would never get along, at least that was what it seemed to everyone else. Roman and Virgil would argue constantly, filling almost all interaction with insults and banter. That just brought them closer together, and soon they were video calling outside of the group chat. One hour calls turned into two hours turned into twelve… The two were inseparable on any social media. It came as a surprise to their friends who witnessed their interactions that they were so close, but the insults and arguments were quickly known just as proof of how close they are that even the biggest of arguments would be resolved within hours or a day at most. Underneath all that banter both friends were quickly falling in love despite the distance. It was pretty obvious to everyone; except for the two clueless morons involved.
Virgil had lived in a completely segregated human neighborhood with his mom all his life before college, that is. His mom hates giants so she never let Virgil go to any non segregated towns or schools, as a way of rebelling Virgil chose an integrated college. Even so, he was still scared. He spent most of his time avoiding the giant side of campus at all costs. So he had never really seen giants up close before. Virgil lets slip which college he's at during one of their 12 hour facetime sessions and Roman was elated because he also went to that college.
But because of everything around them being to their scale, they never found out the other’s species.
He asked if Virgil wants to meet up and Virgil managed to stutter a yes.
Roman suggested an integrated coffee shop on the border of the giant side of campus. Virgil, in his flustered mind, doesn't even consider the possibility that Romans a giant. Virgil didn't want Roman to think he's afraid of, or hates giants so he said yes. Then they awkwardly both said goodbye while trying not to blush on camera.
Roman, in his excitement, forgot to mention that they're a giant. Virgil didn't mention his species either. And they don't bother to wonder why they've never seen each other around campus at all. They were so busy freaking out because they were meeting each other that neither of them even thought about species.
Virgil gets there early and bites his nails as he went up the human elevator entrance to the cafe. There's human walkways lining inside and outside of the walls so they could walk around the cafe without needing help. Periodically around the room there would be platforms against the wall with tables humans could sit at.
There were also human sized tables built into the giant wooden round tables of varying sizes around the room. The only way to get to those was by being carried by a giant. If the human arrives first when meeting a human, they can wait at a designated platform near the door.
Virgil sat close to the human pickup platform knowing giants would walk by. Specifically so that he could prove to Roman he wasn’t a pussy.
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Chapter 1
Roman smiled brightly as he approached the coffeeshop, confidently straightening his white button down top with his free hand. He'd been waiting since forever to meet Virgil; he damn near screamed when he heard Virgil mention his college. The beautiful emo was his best friend in the world and the news had prompted him to invite him out for coffee without even thinking. Roman hadn't thought about his hopeless crush at all, only the fact that he had to see that goofy smile in person as soon as he could. He twirled the black rose he had in his hand, staring at it in debate. He bought it as he had made his invitation, that is to say without thinking. Roman ran his thumb up and down the stem in indecision, popping off a thorn. He watched it fall to the pavement and sighed. No, Virgil was still just a friend, he didn't want to risk it. Roman wouldn't want to make their first meeting uncomfortable.Instead, Roman sadly the rose down on an abandoned iron bench outside the cafe.
Virgil had gotten there a bit too early; but who was he kidding, you could never be too early. After all, the other person could easily decide to arrive early, and then you'd seem late getting there on time, so the obvious solution was to get there even earlier. He'd already finished a first cup of coffee, humming to himself as he messed around with various designs in a small sketchbook while he waited for Roman to arrive. Virgil wasn't too much of an artist, but doodles never failed to help distract from the worries his mind threw at him. Roman’ll actually show up, right? Of course he would, we’ve known each other for ages... But you never know…
The bell above the door dinged.
Roman pushed open the door of the coffee shop, eyes scanning the tables and bar seats for any sign of Virgil. He walked in to avoid blocking the door, now towering right over the human pick up platform to his right. Roman looked over the students in the busy shop again. Maybe he was late...? Roman quickly pushed down the thought that he was stood up. Virgil would never do that to him.
Virgil was still humming to himself, making the unavoidable glance up toward the door as a Giant walked in. The door was right there and Virgil just couldn't ignore the movement. He had sat himself down at the platform nearest the human pickup platform to impress Roman. Only slight regret, he lied to himself. So, as usual when a giant or a human came in, Virgil glanced over, went back to his sketchbook... And only then did a double take. "Wait what??" The humanspoke under his breath, feeling his heart skip a beat as he scanned the features of this giant... He couldn't believe his eyes... could it be him? No way. "...Ro?"
Roman jumped when he heard his nickname called to his right. He whipped around to where he heard it and locked eyes with a familiar face sitting at a human table. "...Virgil?" Roman crouched down, hooking a hand onto the side of the platform to keep his balance. His eyes widened as the miniscule, unmistakable features of his best friend came into focus,black eyeshadow and all. A blush dusted his cheeks, Gods Virgil was even more beautiful in person…
Virgil felt conflicting feelings wash over himself. His heart was skipping beats, and thank god for his foundation hiding the blush he felt forming on his face. But Virgil’s stomach was doing flips, and not just the usual kind for a crush. Roman was a giant. No wonder they'd never seen each other before, despite living on the same campus. Jesus... Virgil didn't move, just sitting there with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide with awe, pencil still in his hand but forgotten.
Roman got concerned when Virgil went silent. He hooked his hand behind Virgil’s chair supportively, "Are- are you alright Virgil?" Roman’s arched brows knit together. Oh no nono did he already screw up? Was Virgil scared of him? Was Virgil having regrets about meeting already??
Virgil's mind followed the hand that was now behind him, but his gaze didn't move from Roman's face "Er--" Virgil swallowed, looking to his sketchbook and closing it up, tucking it into his messenger bag. "Um.. Yeah. I'm good. I'm good." Virgil nodded, seeming to reassure himself more than Roman, slowly putting the bag over his shoulder and standing up. "So, uh.. I guess... To a table..?" The human gave a sheepish grin in a somewhat faulty attempt to hide the swirling emotions that his eyes still betrayed. Damnit Virge, Calm down!
Roman grinned, scooping up his friend into his palm without thinking and holding him close to his chest. He gazed over the cafe, "Any preference, Emo Nightmare?"
Virgil felt his voice catch in his throat as he suddenly found himself in the grip of a Giant-well, his best friend, but they'd never met in person before. "Uh--Wherever there's not people as close." As Virgil stared forward with wide eyes, he thanked fuck for his bangs making it hard to see them anyways. He'd always acted really confident about, well, everything in his calls with Roman. How had their sizes never come up? That was, like, an important thing???
A secluded high top bar style table in the corner caught Roman's eye and he made his way towards it. It was set up like a breakfast bar with a series of five stools, a smaller version with more stools was installed onto the surface; he went straight to the one furthest in the corner. Roman used his ankle to hook the leg of his chair and sat down, resting his hand on the countertop in front of him. Roman found he was once again cursing himself for being 6 foot 5; he had to hunch down to be more level with Virgil due to his height.
As Roman was distracted with the whole 'sitting down' ordeal, Virgil took a deep breath to calm his fluttering heart., Though the fact that he'd just been carried over with no effort at all by his best friend was... something. He got off Roman's hand, forcing himself to ignore how weak his legs felt as he stood there.
For once in his life, Romane found himself at a slight loss for words. Words kept slipping through his grasp. Roman went with "So, how's my handsome stormcloud?" and grinned down at Virgil.
"Uh--Surprised, I guess. But it’s Chill." It was not Chill.
"Me too, haha,I didn't expect all that sass to fit into a human body." Roman joked, playfully poking the emo's side. Once Virgil was safely standing he rested his arms on the table, propping his head up on an elbow and gazing down at Virgil. He tucked his left hand into a fist so Virgil couldn't see it shake. "I always pictured you as shorter than me but I hadn't considered this much. It's cute though, it fits you."
Virgil set his messenger bag down, but jumped out of his seat and turned up toward Roman as the giant spoke. "Hey!" Even the (probably too much) makeup Virgil had put on today couldn't entirely hide his flushing face, but he hoped that the foundation toned it down. Emphasis on hoped. "Yeah, n' I didn't expect ya' to be tall but I Wasn't gunna' make comments on it!" Why did you say that, Virgil? Now he's gonna think you're mad at him or something.
Roman narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Of course I'm gonna comment on it, you're adorable~" -What are you doing stop flirting you useless gay paperclip-"Why not comment on it? Besides, I expected you to sass me even if you weren't a giant.I'm obnoxiously tall even to my own species." Roman kicked back gesturing to his long, muscled torso.
Virgil snorted at that. Oh fuck he's ripped. "I am not adorable! You've seen me just fine from our cameras, and you know I work very hard on this look." Virgil gave a half-offended, half just playful look as he sat down with a quiet huff. Damnit Virge stop BLUSHING oh my God.
"I can tell." Roman winked. He looked up and glanced towards the coffee bar. "We should order, do you want me to order for you or would you like to come up?" He asked, with Virgil's social anxiety in mind.
Virgil hummed quietly, glancing toward the bar as well. He'd ordered earlier, and even then it had been a bit... terrifying. "I would appreciate it if you could, yeah." Virgil smiled softly. Roman might've been way taller than he was expecting, but ,well, at least Roman still acted the same.
"What would you like? My treat of course, I dragged you here after all," A charming smile painted Roman’s chiseled features, dimples shining as beautifully as his pearl teeth.
Oh fuck. He's hot. Virgil took a breath to calm himself down, hesitating a moment before speaking. "I think ah, hot chocolate with cinnamon sounds good." Virgil normally got coffee, but since he'd had the one while waiting, might as well get something sweeter.
Roman nodded, sliding off the bar seat and standing, not noticing how even with the higher table he still towered over Virgil. He pushed in the chair and made his way over to the counter.
Virgil felt his heart flutter as Roman stood, watching as he walked to order with wide eyes. He quickly shook himself, lightly hitting his cheeks a few times.
The barista with a name tag reading Camden greeted Roman with a friendly smile. "What can I get for you?"
"Two large hot chocolates with cinnamon, one human and one giant." Roman returned the smile; it noticeably was absent of the flirtatious warmth it held with Virgil on the receiving end.
Camden pressed a few buttons on the register. "Nine dollars, name?"
"Roman." Roman handed over the exact change and was informed brightly the order would be right up. He waited anxiously for the hot chocolate to be ready, he didn't like leaving Virgil alone for so long. He should've insisted on him at least coming along.
As the seconds ticked by, Virgil felt himself growing a bit more anxious, being alone in the middle of a giant's table. Back at the human tables with Giants walking through it was admittedly more bearable, but this... wasn't quite as manageable. Virgil bounced his leg anxiously, eyes fixed on Roman and praying the drinks would just get done already so that Roman would come back again.
The cafe was fairly packed and a small group of what looked like juniors and seniors came in scanning for a table like vultures. By that time, several of the tables were filled.
Virgil's eyes snapped to the group as they approached. Please go to another table please go--ugh. They walked straight up to the table Virgil occupied and the leader with red hair planted his hands on either side of the human, purposefully looming over and creating a shadow by blocking the rustic exposed bulb above. "These seats taken?" He asked, no intent to care in his voice. An ugly sneer crept over his triangular face.
Virgil took a breath, putting on a brave face. His heart was racing, and he was absolutely terrified to look up at the Giant, but the human wasn't going to let him know that. But he locked his jaw leaned back. "Yes, actually. You'll have to sit somewhere else."
...
A/N: Run.
Thank you to the wonderful R who tolerates my trash mammal mind and co wrote this with me. And of course the lovely @hiddendreamer67 for doing some amazing beta reading!
Tag list in reblog, please ask to be added/removed in a comment or reblog
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purplesurveys · 4 years
Text
783
Are you afraid of lifts? Enough to make me never want to get on one alone. I honestly can’t remember I wasn’t on an elevator with anyone, and I prefer dragging someone along.
Who did you last talk to in person? Is that person attractive? My sister. I feel like pretty is a more suitable word for me to use as attractive feels somewhat creepy lmao.
Have you ever had a deep, personal conversation with a stranger? Yeah. Back in my internship I had to be present to assist one of our clients who was gonna be a guest in a morning talk show, and after his segment we had breakfast at a nearby restaurant where he talked about his life and his struggles to get to where he is now. It was such an insightful conversation and he was incredibly wise. As shy as I was then, I never forgot that talk and I’m really grateful for the experience.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your own appearance? Why? Idk, an 8 maybe? I’m generally ok with my looks, minus my teeth and how frizzy my hair can get sometimes.
Who was the last person to send you a message on Facebook? When was the last time you saw that person? Angela. The last time I saw her was when we went out to BGC to drink and party, whenever that was. I think it was the last weekend of February?
If you decided, at this moment in time, that you were going to make a sandwich, what would you put on it? Ham and cheese.
Let’s talk about the person you had your first kiss with. Do you still talk to that person? If so, do you still like them? Would you kiss them again? Yep, I’m on the phone with her right now. Yes and yes.
When was the last time you saw your ex? No ex.
Are you good at controlling your emotions, or do you tend to let them get the better of you? I can be good at controlling them, but once it gets personal I allow them to take over me.
At this moment in time, what do you want the most? Sushi.
How many times have you cried over the person you love/like? Too many to count on one hand, and for various reasons. Not to say she makes me miserable, it’s just because she has the ability to affect me the most.
How exactly are you feeling right now? Why do you feel the way you do? I ammmmmmm feeling a little hungry because it’s been a while since we had dinner, and very awake thanks to the cup of coffee I just finished. I’m also comforted by the fact that my girlfriend is just on the other line at the moment.
What’s the relationship status of the last person that put their arms around you? He is married.
Has the last person you held hands with, ever told you that they love you? So many times.
Is there someone you used to hang out with all the time, and now you don’t anymore? If so, do you ever miss that person? Why do you think your relationship changed?   Yeah dude, a lot of people. I miss some and I don’t miss some. The reasons are different for everyone; like I grew apart with Sofie because college had just physically torn us apart there was no way for us to be able to keep up with each other; Katreen found her own circle in college and slowly stopped talking to me; Athenna simply turned into a really bitter person after high school; Macy had personal issues to fix and she just sort of tuned a lot of people out in the process, including me. I’m just glad I’ve learned to not be resentful about these failed friendships.
Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘H’? What color are that person’s eyes? I think it was Hannah. Brown.
Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘M’? How did you meet that person? Angela’s first name is Maria so I’m counting that hahaha. We met in first grade. We were seatmates and I accidentally stabbed her palm with a pencil, making it bleed. The rest was history.
The person you love/like is offered a job in another country. Would you let them go, or try and convince them to stay? Let them go. We’ve discussed this a bunch of times.
Is there anyone you dislike so much, that you actually can’t stand to be around them? I don’t always actively dislike her, but after years of verbal abuse I can never be comfortable being alone with my mom for more than a few minutes. I’m incapable of keeping up a conversation with her and I also don’t like it when she reaches her hand out to touch me, and I always automatically flinch just enough for her not to notice.
When was the last time you wanted to cry, but didn’t, because you didn’t want to show that you were upset? Why? Uhh I guess this morning lol. I was watching a compilation video of emotional segments in WWE but with my siblings in the same room, I didn’t wanna show that I was crying. Super trivial but yeah.
If you found out that someone had been talking about you behind your back, would you confront them? Depends what they’d been saying, but honestly probably not. I’d just bitch about it to my friends. < Pretty much. This is exactly what I did when I caught wind that Patrice was talking shit/spreading a rumor about me behind my back. OMG I’m so glad she’s out of my life
Which do you think is the worst - saying something and then wishing you hadn’t, or not saying something and wishing you had? The first one, because then the damage had been done.
Do you know anyone who seems almost incapable of showing their emotions? Uh not really? Everyone I know is expressive in some way.
What are 3 things that are guaranteed to make you smile, or put you in a good mood? Dogs, when I meet up with Gab and I see her, and pretty views.
Do you look more like your mum or your dad? Half of my face is my mom, and half of it is my dad. I never get the same answer when I ask my friends who I look more like.
When was the last time you saw your grandparents? I saw my paternal grandparents on the third weekend of February, as is tradition whenever my dad comes back home to the country. I don’t remember the last time I saw my grandma on my mom’s side but it was probably the start of the year? because my mom will sometimes drive by the house to check up on her.
Have you ever felt really attracted to someone, but been deterred because you found out they didn’t have a very nice personality? Yeah, like I went to high school with so many pretty people but most of them had a bit of an attitude and just liked to stick with their cliques. Typical high school behavior.
Have you ever hugged/kissed someone you’d only just met? Probably when I’ve gotten drunk and became friends with anyone I’d interact with lolol
Where is the person you would most like to see/be with? She is at home, in the upper part of the city.
When was the last time you bought a CD/DVD? Which one was it? 2013. It was either an Audrey Hepburn movie or a Beyoncé concert DVD.
Have you ever gone against someone’s advice and then regretted it? Probably? Angela will sometimes give me advice only for me to completely go against it hahahahahaha
Would you ever apologize for something that wasn’t your fault? Always. It’s what I picked up after years of my mom accusing me for every little thing...
What’s been the best thing about your day so far? It’s only 2:11 AM, but I’m loving the fact that I’m on a call with Gabie, I guess. We don’t really call a lot, not even during quarantine, so I’m feeling happy right now.
Has anyone ever cried in your arms before? Sure.
Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘C’? Is that person older or younger than you? Ugh I don’t even remember, Tina probably? Her full name is Christina. She’s a year older.
Do you keep a lot of things from your parents? Pretty much everything.
Who was the last person you confided in? Do you regret it? Gabie. I have no reason to regret it, she’s my girlfriend and best friend.
What was the last film you watched, that you hadn’t seen before? What kind of film was it? What did you think of it? I’ve repeated this answer so many times, but Knives Out. It was a whodunnit/mystery film, and I wouldn’t have watched it if Gab had not personally invited me to see it with her. I hated every second of it, though I’m glad not a lot of people were in the cinema then because it allowed me to pull out my phone and use Twitter without distracting anyone haha.
Have you ever had an argument with the last person you hugged/kissed? Lots.
Using one word only, describe the day you’ve had so far. Short (so far).
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mxopifex · 5 years
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So, uh, I’m not dead
I apologize everyone for falling off the face of the earth.
I don’t have the energy for a long explanation of what the fuck my brain has been doing, and tbh depression is generally very boring. But here’s a list of the contributing elements in the prolonged meltdown in quick and easy bullet point form
4 funerals in 4 months. In order my grandfather, my friend’s dad, a beloved former college professor, and my friends aunt (the one who let us drink at her house when we were under age)
Ramping up to graduate from the apprentiship school. Both college and high school graduations had mental health breakdowns, so I’m not sure why I didn’t realize this would happen again.
Related to the above, a big freak out over preparing to take the state licensing exam
Severe artistic constipation. I think I’ve managed to knit about 2/3s of one sock this entire time. My tablet pen is lost and I need to order a new one.
Prolonged unemployment meant not leaving the house a healthy amount of times.
When I finally did pick up a job it was 5-11s and an 8 outside all day at the airport redoing a runway where there are very limited options for getting out of the elements. By the time I get home I’m dead tired. Most of my “free time” gets eaten up by chores.
But for all that I’m starting to get my feet back under me which means doing the perpetually embarrassing post depression apology tour and mess clean up.
There is good news though
I passed my state licensing exam and so as far as the state of Michigan is concerned I am a Journeyman
They sent my license to me in an email that referred to it as my “Electrical Journey Licence” which is deeply funny
In a month I will have finished my apprenticeship with the union and will get that $10/hr raise to journeyman’s scale
I turn 33 next Friday
I used some of that sweet sweet overtime cash to buy the Sideshow Mythos Obi Wan figure and omg he is so pretty you all. I’ll post pic spam soon.
Poloroid is making instant cameras again and I bought one.
I’m leaving tomorrow for a road trip vacation with my folks and since our destination is Paradise, MI, I think I can convince them that we need to detour early on to go to Hell, MI so we can say that we’ve driven from Hell to Paradise.
After spending forever questioning it I think I’ve comfortably settled on genderflux as the best term for my experience of gender. Demigirl was always a sort of close but it didn’t feel right and genderflux does.
So anyway, I’m back. I don’t plan on going anywhere for a while. Imma try and reach out more on an individual level over the next few days, but backlogged messages and notifications are feeling a bit intimidating at the moment and also it’s late. So I’ll quit my rambling here.
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canyouhearthelight · 6 years
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The Miys, Ch. 6
That’s Right!  After a year of life happening to me, I finally got my priorities in order and got around to writing Chapter 6!
Thank you everyone who was so patient with me, and thank you to all the new people who have been reading the first five chapters in the last 24 hours.
A very special shout out to @ritualistic-raven, @livinlifeasithappens, who have been very encouraging in the most real, low key ways.  Also, @writer-gurl-who-doesnt-write, because you have kept me motivated all day, despite the fact that you just found my blog. Finally, @canimallow, @seperis, and @the-firstofhername just for writing so much and inspiring me to get back on the horse.
Finally, when my back didn’t hurt anymore, the Miys agreed that I would be allowed to visit Tyche.  My mouth was dry just imagining what I would say to her…. I hadn’t seen her face to face since the End.  Out of fear, I had never even taken the time to imagine if she was alive or dead.  Needless to say, finding out she was alive and raising bloody hell was a balm to the remains of my soul.
“It is a long walk, Enhancer,” the Miys tried to explain.  Despite numerous attempts to explain that ‘ph’ and ‘f’ were identical sounds, the Miys could tell a difference in the vibrations, and refused to just call me “Sofeya”. Very phonetic, the Miys. So, until a suitable nickname was found, they kept calling me ‘Enhancer’.
So. Annoying.
Really, everything was annoying me at this point.  I had been on bed rest for what felt like forever, but had actually only been about two weeks of conscious time. Knowing that my sister was so close had been a burning itch under my skin the entire time. In the decade since the world ended, I had just grown used to the idea that everyone I loved was gone, forever.  Finding out that the only person in my family who actually mattered was still alive and raising Hell had been more than I ever dreamed.
Which is why I was currently hobbling along with a very agitated and concerned hippo-spider behind me.  I had grown so used to the Miys’ appearance that it was actually kind of adorable to see them wringing all of their hands and making the whirring noise I had learned meant anxiety.
As we travelled along, I took the opportunity to observe and learn my surroundings.  The hallways were smooth, with a distinctly inorganic feel, almost like river stone or beach glass. It was very serene, but efficient.  Noticeable in their absence were directional markers and navigational indicators, however.  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense: When you are the only crew member on the ship, essentially, what need would you have for methods to find your way around?  The Miys was literally everywhere at the same time.
And I do mean everywhere.  I could not travel ten paces without seeing one of their bodies.  At first, the lack of acknowledgement when my chaperone and another body passed each other was disconcerting; Even after ten years of the End, I was still very ingrained to greet every person I saw unless I was deliberately avoiding being noticed.
Poor thing.  The Miys actually had to ask me to cease greeting it about a quarter of the way across the ship. I was slightly embarrassed as I realized that I probably sounded like an over-excited toddler, repeatedly saying “hello” to the same person.
After about an hour of walking, the Miys surrendered and let out a low-pitched hum that sounded like a groan. “Enhancer, can we please take a transport? You have made your point, you are well.  However, I fail to understand how you are having six different thoughts at once, and have been for the entire walk.  To minimize the sheer amount that you are thinking at me, can we please take a faster method?”
Oops.  Apparently that part did not show up in their rigorous documentation on my personality traits. Both my sister and I had a tendency to think about several things at a time. “Sorry.  Yeah, let’s take a transport. I didn’t mean to think at you, I just don’t know how to not do it.”
“Can you please stop that rhythmic, repetitive thought?”
“That one, I can’t do anything about. It’s music, and I always sing in my head.” Tyche had always joked that I had multiple processors in my brain, and processor three was broken and only played music.
“Can you ‘sing’ something better?”
“Hey, I like Sara Bareilles.”
“But… that is not how gravity works?”
“It’s a metaphor.”
We filled the remainder of the trip across the ship with conversation about Terran music, which I was not particularly knowledgeable about on a technical scale. However, it followed the same movements as Terran literature (which the Miys knew I had a degree in), so it kept us occupied until we arrived at what were apparently Tyche’s quarters.
As soon as the transport stopped, my trepidation and anticipation hit so powerfully that the Miys actually stumbled while escorting me to the door.
“You are – afraid? – of your sibling, but are also excited? How is one excited about fear?”
“That’s an entirely separate discussion,” I sighed.  “I’m not afraid of her, I’m afraid of her being angry or disappointed in what I’ve become. However, I have not seen her since very shortly after the Earth blew itself into anachronism, so I’m also very happy and excited that she is alive.”
“Ah,” The Miys replied. “thank you for explaining. When I ask those questions of Tyche, she just says ‘it’s a thing’ and does this,” as it waved it’s smaller left hand in a vague gesture.
“Yeah,” I sighed in relief. “That’s Tyche. Usually that means that all her brain function in taken and she doesn’t have any left to dedicate to finding words.”
“Yes,” the Miys said in a very deep, exasperated, and all-too-human tone. “You both think about so many things at a time, I am constantly surprised either of you can function. And I have thousands of bodies!  As such, I will decidedly not be joining you in Tyche’s rooms, instead observing via video relay that Tyche has consented to, as she knows we find her very entertaining and informational.”
I chuckled at that. “Not many humans on board that strongly atypical.” It was not by any means a question. Tyche was the most unique person I had ever met in my life.
“Precisely. We have four: two have declined video relay installation in their quarters, and the fourth has not yet consented or declined.��
Out of close to 10,000 humans on board, that was an extremely small population. I could understand why they found my sister so entertaining: I thought she was amazing, but I was strongly biased.
Finally, quelling my trepidation, I mustered up the courage to tap the request for entry.  I expected a cool greeting and an expertly arched eyebrow, followed quickly by a sarcastic comment.  My Tyche was always conscious of her demeanor, with a razor wit and acerbic tongue ready for any occasion.
All I saw was a flurry of black and grey before I was slammed on my back against the deck. High pitched squeals pierced my ears, and out of the corner of my eye I could see my chaperone beating a hasty retreat.  Something started hitting my torso, and by the time my brain caught up, I realized that the blur was Tyche, she had tackled me while squealing, and she was currently sitting on me while punching my brand new torso. My normally restrained sister had glomped me.
“Hey!” I cried half-heartedly while I struggled to contain laughter and tears at the same time. “I just bought that, knock it off!”
“I’ll knock your fucking head off if you vanish for that long again!” She shouted with a wide smile on her face. Ah, there was the sister I knew.
We collapsed into a pile of laughter for a moment, only stopping when I heard a very unexpected noise coming from the direction of her door.
“Squerk?”
I stopped laughing immediately to listen.
“Prrow?”
My eyes must have been as wide as saucers when I looked up at the giggling heap that was still sitting on me. “Tyche. Is that a cat?”
She laughed even harder. “Shit. Yeah… check this out.”
Tyche let me up off the deck while she turned to pick up the source of the plaintive cry: a massive black cat with enormous green eyes.
“Holy rabies, trust you to keep up the family tradition through the end of the world,” I breathed.
“Oh, no no no no no no,” she corrected me jubilantly. “He is not just any black cat. This little void-muffin is Mac 3.0.”
“Nuh uh,” I shook my head violently, my new spine complaining. “No way.” Our family had always, always owned at least one black cat.  When I was in college, our previous black cat passed away and one week later, Mac found me. I had been walking to class, and I heard the most pitiful cry coming from a car.  It turned out that this tiny black ball of floof had crawled up in the engine to be warm, and could not get out. Two hours later, he was free and I had a cat.  When the world ended, I assumed he had died with everyone else I loved.
“Yes huh,” Tyche retorted, pulling me out of my memories. “When it all went down, Mac actually stuck around. He brought a kitten home one day, a little queen that looked just like him. I assume it was his daughter. Well, Mac took on a fox and lost, but Mac 2.0 had exactly one litter, and this fucker is the only one that survived.”
I am not exaggerating about the black cats. We never look for them: They find us. Often in the weirdest ways.
“How did you get Noah to let you bring him on board?” the awe evident in my voice.  Above us, a sound like a throat clearing. The Miys and I had a running joke about me calling them Noah, and them correcting me. I was too absorbed in what constituted a family reunion to pay any mind other than registering the noise.
“I demanded it,” she shrugged eloquently while gesturing for me to enter her quarters. “I explained how important pets are to Terrans, how they reduce stress levels and anxiety, and I explained that domesticated animals were not likely to survive if left behind. And, really, the pets didn’t screw up the planet… Why punish the innocent?”  Her eyes held a look of wide eyed conviction that I knew in my bones she had never genuinely made in her life. Tyche was a firebrand, not a waif.
“So, you were going to a new place and needed at least one person who you knew would support you so long as you kept his crunchies filled, huh?” I asked with a smile and raised eyebrow.
“HOW DO YOU DO THAT!?” blared from the ceiling.  Whoops. The Miys had no eyebrows, so that particular gesture fascinated them.
Just to be contrary, Tyche also cocked an eyebrow, inciting a groan-noise from the speakers. “I was very sincere. In fact, they brought a significant amount of pets along with us. Upwards of forty thousand, I think?”
“60,328,” came the chagrined voice-from-above as Tyche cackled. “We found that the symbiotic domestics are very important to human survival.”
“Annnnnd?” my sister drawled, directly facing the source of the sound.
“And human relationship to their domestics reminds us of blagnarh,” it sighed, clearly used to her shenanigans. “Which we did not bring with us.”
“What the hell is – “ I started.
She cut me off, “A six foot centipede. Don’t ask for a photo, I did, and. No. Just no. Nope. Nope rope with legs.” Considering the hiss she used at the end of the sentence, I decided to leave it alone. Since she was an artist in a former life, I was going to take her word on the overall creepy-factor that ‘six foot centipede’ conjured in my poor brain.
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peonies-and-swords · 6 years
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Message- Loki x reader oneshot !
Hello guys! Enjoy this new fic ! Mostly angst and fluff !
Plot : The reader waits for Loki to come back but receives strange messages. What has happened to Loki?
Warning: None I believe 
Words: 4200
Author’s note: This long fic takes place during Infinity War. Why would I do something like that? I honestly don’t now, it hurt so bad to write this story. But I think it’s kind of a catharsis for the pain that IW brought me. So get your tissues out and get ready ! 
Vocabulary : Y/N = your name
Loki Tag list : @lisalisa007  ( message me if you want to be added to a tag list ! ) 
Masterpost 
ENJOY !
She waited, and waited. For hours, days, months, she had waited for his return. And suddenly a message.
"This is the Asgardian refugee vessel Statesman! We are under assault! I repeat, we are under assault!"
Loki had given her a radio receiver many years ago when they had first met. He said that if he needed to send her an information, she would magically receive it, even if he was on the other side of the universe, even if he wasn’t able to speak. The message would find a way to her through the little device. 
That day, when she heard the first words, her heart skipped a beat 
"Asgardian refugee vessel? What is going on?" She mumbled to herself. 
She held the device hoping to hear some more. She often asked to Loki why she couldn’t send him message like he was sending her. He replied that when he would settle in Midgard he would teach her how to use the device. But since it dealt with quite a bit of magic he insisted that she would need some kind of training. 
She wished he had listened to her, and took the time to teach her, at least she wouldn’t be so anxious if she could just ask him if he was okay. 
“under assault”? Who ? Who was stupid enough to attack an Asgardian vessel? 
Last time she heard about Loki, Ragnarok had just happened. He sent her a message to notify her that he would land on Earth in a few days. 
"Y/N, my love, I’m coming home. We finally defeated Hela… I can’t really believe what happened in the last few hours. I mean… This morning I was still on Sakaar… Then I was back on Asgard but only to see it burn. Few years ago, I told you I wanted to see that place burn to ashes. But with its destruction… I can’t help to feel like I have just lost the place that reminded me the most of my few happy memories. I still remember Mother teaching me tricks in the palace. It’s… quite … Uhm… embarrassing to be that depressed over something I wished for, years ago… But let’s talk about something else… I long for the sight of you my dear. I cannot wait to feel you near me. Just feel your breath on my skin. Hear your voice. But I have great news… Soon I’ll be back. Soon. We believe we’re 5 or 6 days away from Midgard. I cannot wait. Maybe this time you’ll meet my brother. I really hope so. I talked to him about you, he was really exited knowing that someone cared about me other than him, and that I cared about some other than myself. I need to go now, we have things to figure out before we land on your planet. I love you Y/N. See you soon my love."
She remembered those last words and tried to think about anything but the message she received last. She switched on the TV, listen a bit to a show about famous criminals but turned it off when Loki’s name was brought up. She decided to call her friends to talk about what she heard and maybe try to find an explanation with them. Most of her friends didn’t know about Loki. Mostly because last time he was publicly on Earth he did try to rule over the entire planet. But she trusted her closest friend with that secret. They used to share an apartment during college, but Y/N had moved out few years ago when things got serious with Loki. Her two best friends still shared their old flat together. She called them, needing some mental support. 
"Y/N?" Asked Rose 
"Hi Rose! I kinda need you both right know…" 
"Oh, are you okay ? Let me just get E real quick." She paused a second "E? Can I come in ? Y/N is calling, something doesn’t feel right"
"Sure … Hi Y/N! Is everything alright?"
"Hey… Well actually, no … I’m really sorry to bother you. I know you’re really busy but … I just can’t wrap my mind around some things"
"Don’t worry I was getting kinda fed up by that phonetic article anyway" replied E
"You two remember the device Loki uses to send me messages ?"
"Yeah we do" 
"Well I received a strange one this afternoon… It was like a distress call?"
"Oh god" said both Rose and E at the same time 
"Yeah … Hum well… Loki said some days ago that he was on a ship and the message today sounded like that ship was under assault." She paused a little, trying to calm down a bit. "But the worse is that I haven’t had any news since then… And that was 6 hours ago"
"Okay let’s stay calm" tried Rose" I mean once you received a part of a message and the second part 2 days later because the time goes by strangely on Sakator" 
"Sakaar but yes…"
"Yeah well maybe it’s the same thing! Maybe they already beat the shit out of the idiots that attacked the ship !" 
"Yeah but why would they even emit a distress call if it wasn’t something serious? " asked Elena. 
"Not helping E." replied Rose 
"No but she’s right! From what I understood Thor was also on the ship. Why two fricking gods would be sending a distress call if it wasn’t actually for something bad? I don’t feel so good girls… I just can’t understand what’s happening ? What that message means and more importantly why Loki wanted me to hear it?" 
"Listen Y/N I won’t even try to lie and say that I know what’s happening and that all will be okay. This sounds fucking scary. I think we better go to yours and just… I don’t know … wait together for a bit?" Said E
"Yeah that’s a great idea, we’ll get some pizza while we’re getting there, we may wait for a bit" added Rose.
"Thank you girls… I don’t think I can be alone right now…" 
She didn’t have to wait long before her two friends arrived at her house. She had been sitting on her couch and staring at the little transmitter. They ate and tried to find explanations. Loki had never send her a message from someone else. This was the first time another voice than his resonated from the device. Something in Y/N was telling her that he was in danger. Her friends tried to distract her, putting on the first Jurassic Park. But with all the emotions of that day, Y/N fell asleep almost immediately. 
She was woken up by a buzz in her hand. She opened her eyes and the light on the transmitter was blinking.
"Girls ?" She said with a trembling voice.
"Does that mean?" Asked E
"I think you should listen to it Y/N" 
Y/N pressed a little button and suddenly the group could hear a the new message 
"Hear me and rejoice. You have had the privilege of being saved by the great Thanos. You may think this is suffering, no. It is salvation. The universal scale tips toward balance because of your sacrifice. Smile. For even in death, you have become children of Thanos."
A strange voice filled the room. Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. 
"What does he mean death ? What is going on? Y/N? Do you know a Thanos?" Asked E.
"Did Loki ever told you about a Thanos?" Added Rose. 
Y/N just stayed silent. What could she say more? Why did she receive this message and nothing else? Was Loki injured ? Was he … No she couldn’t think about this. She felt sick, got up and headed to the bathroom. Quickly, she was fully crying, sitting on her floor. She felt Rose sit next to her while E was silently crying and leant against the doorframe. They stayed like that for a bit. Y/N tried to speak, say what was going on inside her. But nothing came out. Every time she tried she only cried louder or felt like she couldn’t breathe at all anymore.
Her eyes still filled with tears she decided to head to her room. She couldn’t even look at the picture of her and Loki that was taped to the wall. She laid on her bed not knowing what else to do and holding the transmitter close to her chest. Again her friends had followed her and just sat next to her, slowly trying to comfort her petting her head. 
Her mind wandered off almost immediately to the day she met Loki. Five years had passed since that day but she still remembered it like if it was yesterday. 
It was a cold autumn morning when she arrived at uni. She headed directly to the coffee machine like she always did. Her face still muffled in her scarf, she noticed a tall man dressed in a all black suit talking to another man near the vending machines. His black hair was a little wavy and he stood very upright. When she approached the two men, she saw the black haired man looking at her. His blue eyes locked with Y/N’s for a moment. She bought a cup of coffee and decided to go to her class. She walked back in front of the two men but this time didn’t meet the gaze of the mysterious man. Y/N had been slowly sipping out of her cup waiting outside the auditorium when she spotted the tall man again. He looked around a bit, turned to her direction and walked up to her. 
"Hello I believe we have not been introduced." He began.
"Well I don’t believe we have either" she smiled a bit. "I’m Y/N. I study English literature. And you ? With that suit you must be a witch trying to get his witching degree" 
"Not far from that… I’m Loki" he said while holding out a hand. 
"Loki? I believe I heard that name before…" 
"It comes from the norse mythology so maybe you read it somewhere? Also I have a homophone that almost made kneel the entire planet so …" 
"Oh yes I remember that guy! He wore that kind of strange helmet of some sort… Sounds kinky if you ask me" she stopped a bit and realized what she had just said "Oh god that sounded so creepy I’m so sorry! I just don’t really have a filter when I’m tired and I haven’t yet drank my morning coffee… I’m really sorry"
"Actually … That was pretty funny" he replied smirking. 
"I’m really flattered, but lying won’t get you anywhere with me." She said laughing. 
"Be careful I’m pretty good at that."
"Uh, so mischievous" 
"Well…" he winked and changed subject. "Actually, I was here only to talk to an old friend, Dr. Hiprat."
"I believe I heard about him…"
"He is pretty well known in the mythology study field."
"Yes, I think I read something about his new researches on the links between the different mythologies around the world"
"Yes, well I do not agree with part of his thesis and as a caring old friend I thought I’d pop in France to have a few words with him"
"That’s really nice of you"
"It indeed is" he responded with a devilish look in his eyes. 
"Well, I need to go right now." she said looking at her watch and at the other students who were getting inside the auditorium. "And I think we should probably talk about something else… As Nietzsche would have said "God is dead" "
"And you let me like that? Alone ? Then I shall wait for you here until your lecture ends so that I can prove to you that Nietzsche was wrong." 
"Oh would you look at that! Am I already one of your old friends that you care for, and give lectures to?"
"Oh no, don’t worry love, I have other plans for you." 
She spent the lecture without being able to focus on the matter discussed that day, clearly only focusing on the man that could be waiting for her just outside the room. When she came out of the auditorium Loki was patiently reading a book, waiting for her. 
"I don’t recall seeing this book before… What are you reading?" She asked. 
"Oh nothing… Just…" He stopped when she took the book from his hands. 
"Vian… Froth on the daydream… I love Vian! You should read I spit on your graves next… A little trashy but each time I re-read it it’s just…"
"Like you read it for the first time but from a different perspective? Yeah, that’s what I like in Vian’s writing…" he interrupted her.
"Wow, handsome and with good tastes in literature… Are you even real? No illusion ?" She pinched a little his arm "No, clearly you’re here" they laughed in unisson.
"So apart from our shared love for Vian … Tell me a little more about you, I’d like to know you." He asked smiling a little.
"Well…" 
Y/N shifted in her bed, getting out of her daydream. She looked to her side and saw her two friend lying on her bed too. She looked at the metallic device in her hands. No new message. As she got up, Rose and Elena looked at her. 
"I think … I think I should be alone now…"
"Are you sure? We could just stay with you" responded Elena.
"Yeah, we could sleep here tonight if…"
"No" interrupted Y/N "I need to be alone, if I receive a new message … I’ll keep you updated…"
She thanked them for being there for her. Even if she needed to be alone, she was thankful to have such great friends. 
When they left, she went back in her room and decided to sit on the edge of her bed. She thought about the time Loki told her about his real identity. 
They had spent the evening at Y/N’s place. They had known each other for few months and been dating for a little while. They were eating some Chinese takeaway from the restaurant nearby. Loki had been really silent the whole time.
"Are you okay Loki? You didn’t even say a word since we got back."
"Yes, love, I’m alright… I just … I can’t stop thinking about something."
"Well, maybe if you talk about it you’ll feel better?"
"Do you love me Y/N? Really love me?"
"I think by now you would have gathered that from the 70 times a day I tell you I love you."
"Please. Answer me."
"Yes, I love you. Really love you."
"Would you still love me if you knew that I lied to you about something important?"
"How important are we talking?"
"Like who I am …"
"I’m not sure I’m following what you’re saying…" said Y/N moving back a little.
"You remember the first time we met … I told you I had a homophone that tried to make the entire planet kneel… Well I lied… I tried to rule Midgard."
"You what?"
"I know, I should have told you everything before. But I was scared… I just-"
"Did you really kill all these people ?"
"I did, yes." He stopped seing Y/N almost crying. "I did, but I was forced to do it, I was manipulated. I was told that if I did what they told me, the torture would end."
"You were tortured? Oh my god ! Loki…"
"Yes… Mentally and physically… I was tortured, they used every single good memory I had to hurt me."
"Who ? What-"
"Let’s just say it was some kind of big-purple-toe-nail-looking guy… I won’t say his name. Mostly because it still hurts to talk about it. But also because I’m a bit scared that he might have put a spell on his name… Like in Harry Potter with You-Know-Who."
"All jokes aside… Why didn’t you tell me before? I mean… You killed people. Even under torture… I’m still dating a murderer."
"Well exactly. Listen. I’m- I’m not sure I’m even worthy of your love. But that day. I just felt something I never did. You left a mark on my heart. Just with one glance I was yours. And I couldn’t risk to never see you again because of my past. I knew I couldn’t live without you. So I thought that if you didn’t recognize me, I’d just lie about my identity. But I can’t anymore. I love you too much to lie to you."
"Loki… I understand why you did that… and even if I think I’ll need some time to really process what this means… I love you. And you’re worthy of my love, I assure you."
"I love you too Y/N"
"So … if you are the Loki… you’re not human right? You’re … A…"
"A god, the god of mischief. But also a Frost Giant."
"A what now?" 
"Please don’t be scared" Loki said while a green halo moved across his hand. 
"Wow … You’re turning blue! Oh my God! That’s so cool!"
"Please call me Loki"
"You cocky bastard!" Y/N laughed as Loki relaxed seeing that she wasn’t going to leave him after all these revelations. 
Once again Y/N got out of her daydream. This time it was the transmitter that brought her back to reality. A new message. She pressed the button and listened carefully. 
"Almighty Thanos... I, Loki, prince of Asgard... Odinson... the rightful king of the Jotunheim... god of mischief... do hereby pledge to you... my undying fidelity.
-Undying? You should chose your words more carefully.
-You… will never be... a god
-No resurrections this time."
No…. The first voice was clearly Loki. He seemed strange, afraid. The second one… That was the Thanos from before? Trying to understand what this message meant, suddenly the realization came to Y/N. No resurrection. Loki was dead. She felt her heart skip a beat. She stopped breathing. She felt tears running down her face, she hadn’t even noticed she was crying at first. How was it possible. Where was his brother? He wouldn’t have let Loki die now that they were together again. Was he dead too ? How could a God die? 
No. It was impossible. Loki couldn’t be dead. Couldn’t leave her like that alone. She loved him and now he was gone? No. Simply impossible. 
Maybe after all he wasn’t dead… No resurrection? He faked his death multiple times, this one was just another one. He could not leave her. No. 
Maybe … She had heard about Valhalla. Maybe Loki was just there. Maybe there was a way for her to bring him back. He was a magic being after all! Why should death apply to him? She felt a rush of anger all throughout her body. She threw the transmitter across the room, screaming. 
She fell to her knees, crying louder and louder. How could he leave her? 
Something in her clicked, she would never see him again. Even if she loved him with all of her soul, this wouldn’t matter. 
Loki was dead. 
She was lying on the floor, tears slowly falling down. 
Some time passed, Y/N didn’t even know for how long she had been lying on the floor when she heard a loud bang. Thunder. She got up and looked out of the window nearby. No rain to be seen, the storm was near but hadn’t reached her apartment yet. She turned her back to the window and tried to think. Obviously Loki wanted her to hear this … Why ? Was there a hidden message for her to decipher ? Or was it really his last words ? She felt her throat closing and tears falling down her cheeks again. 
Suddenly someone knocked at her door. She looked at the clock, it was 2 AM. Before going to the door she checked her phone to see if it was the girls who were back. No message, nothing on the transmitter neither. Another knock, this time way louder. She didn’t dare moving. 
"Y/N? I know you’re here! Please open the door!" Said a familiar voice 
"Who is it?"
"It’s Thor, open please"
She got to the door and opened it. There stood the god, very different from what she remember and how Loki described him. He had short hair and was missing an eye. He was out of breath, Y/N welcomed him inside her flat. She noticed that he was holding a small metallic thing, that sort of looked like her transmitter but only bigger. 
"Where is Loki?" She asked 
"Y/N… I believe you know…"
"No."
"Loki… He died. He was killed by Thanos. I don’t even know what I should say. It’s the first time I meet the person that last made my brother truly happy and I’m here to announce you his death. I just-" he paused a little. " I don’t know what to say. I tried to save him. But I wasn’t able to. I wanted to die there with him, but I couldn’t. See, I promised to do something for him. He sacrificed himself for our people. It’s the least I can do for him."
"How? How could you let him die?" Said Y/N crying.
"I know, I blame myself too. With Loki gone, I’ve lost everything. I had the last few days to think about everything I did wrong. I hope I’ll get to meet him again in Valhalla just to tell him how sorry I am."
"Few days ? But… But I just got the last message?"
"I believe that time travels strangely when associated to this transmitter, sometimes a little late." He said while pointing at Y/N’s transmitter lying on the ground. "Listen Y/N, Loki gave me this and made me swear to bring it to you. I don’t know what is in it, but it must be very important as he gave it to me just before sacrificing himself."
"Are you sure it wasn’t an illusion? I just-"
"Sadly, I believe this time it’s true" he responded as she nodded slightly. "I need to go know, here take the transmitter, I need to find a way to kill the monster responsible for his death."
"Thank you Thor."
"Thank you Y/N. I know he was happy with you, I wished you had more time with him. He deserved to be happy."
She waited for the god to get out of her apartment before inspecting the device she was handed. It looked almost identical to hers. Only bigger and with 4 buttons. Almost like an old cassette tape player. She pushed what looked the most like a play-button. Suddenly a hologram was standing in front of her. Loki was standing in front of her. She almost fell backwards, and just sit down on the floor as the image began speaking. 
"Y/N, my love. I am terribly sorry for what happened. If you are seeing this message, I’m dead. I believe I need to explain what must have happened. You remember I’ve told you about some purple guy who tortured me. Well his name is Thanos and I believe that if we meet again, I won’t make it alive. Unfortunately, an hour ago, a ship was spotted getting closer to ours. Seeing its size on our radar I’m almost sure it’s Thanos’s. So I’m taking the few moments I have left to tell how much I loved you. How much you meant me. And how happy I am to have been able to share a little of my life with you. Don’t be sad for me, I know what is coming and I’m waiting for it peacefully knowing that for now you are safe. The five years we have spent together have been the best of my long life. You helped tame my demons and calm the rage inside me. You saved me." The hologram stopped for a bit, Y/N could see through her own tears, that Loki was also crying. "I cherish every memory I have with you, Y/N. I would go through torture again if it mean being able to kiss you one more time. To feel your heart beat close to mine… I will give this transmitter to Thor and make him swear to bring it to you. I want you to meet him. Maybe you can support each other now that I’m gone. I need to go now. Y/N please remember that you made me the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve always loved you and always will. I’m so sorry for leaving you now. I love you Y/N."  
Y/N felt her heart racing, she stopped breathing for a bit, not being able to process what she just heard. Her finger moved without she even realizing it. She pressed a button and heard Loki’s last words again as the hologram reappeared. 
" I love you Y/N."  
Tears were forming little creeks on her cheeks. Outside the storm was raging, thunder and lightening were mixed with a heavy rain. But nothing seemed to match the intensity of Y/N’s pain. 
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