#is it Yet Another Jean Moreau story
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jeanmoreaue · 6 months ago
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I agree!! *an incoherent rant incoming* Jean imo def moved on from Kevin (in a romantic way; i think he’s not moved on from the whole ‘Kevin left me’ thing ofc but I think he obviously knows and accepts that he and Kevin won’t ever happen lol). And that scene with Renee was obviously a closure/farewell and they’ve moved on to being friends now (also imo while i like their dynamic i feel like they’d never work bc of the whole victim saviour complex, that’d be really uncomfortable and hard to overcome). Jeremy seems like he’s able to handle Jean’s crazy baggage without placating him too much or pushing him too hard. He definitely needs to work on his own shit first (i feel like the way he went all in on helping Jean is kind of giving ‘I am avoiding my problems by getting too involved in others’ problems’) but I think Jean will be the perfect person to help him with that! As you said he’s super perceptive and honestly very empathetic even if he doesn’t show it in the most obvious way. Jeremy would probably really appreciate Jean’s brutally honest approach lol. They’re lowkey perfect for each other â˜č TSC2 can’t come soon enough
hardcore agree on every single point you made!! i feel exactly the same about Jean and Renee, as much as their dynamic is sweet, i think it would be really difficult to overcome Jean feeling indebted to her (whereas Jean and Jeremy are both growing together) + ya i think Jean has very complicated feelings toward Kevin but i don’t think he’s actively yearning over Kevin anymore
and exactlyy i definitely imagine Jean quietly picking up on whatever Jeremy’s going through and expressing concern only for Jeremy to try and pull a “my problems aren’t that bad and therefore don’t matter” which i don’t see Jean accepting. especially since Jean has an ‘older brother who cares more about other people’s well-being more than his own well-being’ vibe (underneath his slightly prickly attitude lol) i think Jeremy and Jean are really good for each other, Kevin subconsciously knew what he was doing by having Jean transfer to USC đŸ€š
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leedee013 · 1 year ago
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Did I start writing AFTG fanfiction? Yes. And I'm very excited.
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jtl-fics · 1 year ago
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Fluent Freshman - Part 40
PREV
The Winter Banquet.
Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-
Wait.
No.
Put that down.
Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!
I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?! 
Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.
Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.
Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.
Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.
Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.
Well just great.
You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing. 
Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.
Fuck.
A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.
The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.
Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.
She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.
Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.
***
(Three hours earlier)
The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.
There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight. 
This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.
Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.
“He was just
he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.
“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.
“We called
we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.
“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.
“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.
“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.
Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.
“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.
The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.
FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence. 
It was nice. He had missed-
“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.
Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.
FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.
“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.
FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.
“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.
FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.
Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.
He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.
“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.
They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.
Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.
Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.
“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.
“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.
“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.
“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.
That had been terrifying.
Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.
“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.
He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.
“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.
“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.
“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.
Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.
Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.
“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.
“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.
The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.
Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer. 
It was shaping up to be a good night.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
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farawaysoph-ie · 7 months ago
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The Sunshine Court Incoherent Whatever (pt.1)
Okay. Okay.
I just finished The Sunshine Court and 1) Jean Moreau what have you done to me? 2) Jean Moreau what have(n't) they done to you?
I started this, then went and re-read tkm (bc the obsession was always latent and never gone), so I could compare both Neil and Jean pov and well, suffice to say I'm not okay and I feel too much.
Thank you Nora Sakavic, it was painful and amazing.
I have a long train ride so I might as well bring back my incoherent whatever after *checks the notes* 4 years :')
As always this will be so full of spoilers.
(Unrelated spoiler: the train ride wasn't enough)
Let's start with the general:
After loving Neil maybe too much the shift to Jean took awhile to adjust to but now I'm ready to fight at least three mafia families, every single hater (fictional or otherwise) and the FBI for him
Jeremy Knox was everything, but like everyone on here, what are you hiding Jeremy?? What's going on??
Cat and Laila, my beloved â„ąïž the care these two effortlessly gave made me cry
This whole book was a serious trigger for me, but I'm in too deep with this series, imagine me like that Simpsons meme, I did it for my new french son
Characters, thoughts:
I said before the Ravens were a cult, but I hadn't really understood that statement. Every time Jean spoke of them it hit deeper and deeper how messed up and unfair it all was.
Boy am I happy that Riko is dead, like I didn't really wish anyone the fate of being shot by an unfeeling older brother, until Jean's pov hit me like a high speed train.
Andrew spoke exactly one word in this, still was iconic and a scene stealer, how in character for him
I forgot how much I always want to slap Kevin Day when he's trying his best to be annoying, it's because I love him, I swear! (But seriously his relationship with Jean is so complex and well executed I will think about it for a very long while)
I didn't give much thought to Renee and Jean relationship in tkm, but it broke my heart here, it's when I started to actually tear up, I love them so much rainbows, a cool evening breeze. I can't.
"Tell me something"
"Where are you now?"
The whole dynamic of the Cat&Laila& sometimesJeremy's apartment
Cat teaching Jean how to cook + motorbike ride (open roads)
Laila taking him to shopping
Jeremy wanting to make Jean Moreau the Person his success story
Neil dragging Jean towards survival without giving him a choice, again and again: he sent Renee as gentle bait, closed a deal in his name with a mafia boss, promised him he would win against Riko in his name too, promised him again Riko was dead, ordered a hit on his rapist, offered to delay the talk with the FBI, linked his sister to his name, to survival and to what he deserved. I NEED more interactions between them, I am not above begging.
I have to get a better idea on the other Trojans, but for now the policule was cute, I need more Cody and less Lucas. Like I can understand where he was coming from? But he needs to shut up now, you made your mess man, now go play Exy like you were supposed to.
I miss the Foxes :'(
Wymack! I almost forgot everyone's favourite dad-coach: he showed up, brought alcohol, got more tired, delivered care to yet another traumatized child, spent a whole day on airplanes to bring him to Los Angeles, left him money for clothes&co. bc he's not doing this again, answered his call when he was having The Breakdown. Best dad-coach ever in the history of dad-coaches.
Plot things:
Jean at the beginning was so scared and in so much pain it took a while to get a clear picture of him as a person
Still loved all his salty comments and insults, he couldn't help himself
Renee sitting with him and caring with Abby and Wymack :')
Jean being afraid of going back and of not going back to Evermore, hating the ones that got to leave
The self harm and all the people in this that fought him to keep his hands from his neck, his scars, himself
"I am Jean Moreau. My place is at Evermore. I will endure."
Jean not believing in Wymack care, waiting for the act to end and the other shoe to drop
The disbelief at Kevin being away from the court and him admitting he went at knifepoint (and meaning it literally), sometimes this was a comedy
Wymack, Jean, and the burning of houses
Jean's opinion of the Foxes going from those mediocre fools to those mediocre madmen to the madmen that actually beat Riko Moriyama
Wymack putting Jean's phone in the freezer and hating computers
“That man is years overdue for a high-speed, head-on collision.” couldn't have said it better, but Neil was already on it at that point
"Jean knew better than to look for anger in his stare; the best Kevin could manage was bottomless guilt."
“It was my only chance,” Kevin said. “I knew you wouldn’t come with me.” “My place is at Evermore,” Jean agreed, “but you did not have to slit my throat on the way out.”
“Your blind loyalty to those clowns is exhausting.” “Some of them you like,” Kevin reminded him. “Don’t you dare,”
Nathaniel "Hello Jean" Wesninski vs Jean "Go away" Moreau
This whole conversation went very differently compared to tkm: like there Neil came, dropped a metaphorical bomb, glossed over the explanation and went away trying to convince Andrew they are something
Jean was ambushed by two of his most complicated acquaintances (???) and their "pet goalkeeper" (god I need Andrew's reaction to this "nickname", but I guess no one will ever say this to his face, Neil would be too busy fighting you at the suggestion to ever repeat it), had his worldwiew turned upside down with no chance of having a say in the matter, then was left alone with Kevin Day and the aftermath.
So yes two different conversation; also I kinda forgot of the deal about Neil and his smile
“Everyone who has tried to tame him has failed.”
All for the game: a summary
There was no getting away; there was only getting through.
Jean Moreau who (hasn't) hurt you, part some of too many
What really makes it messed up is that on one hand there was Riko and his mad cruelty and on the other there was an entire team of bystanders At Best: some people were an active part and then pretended, no sympathy for them; others decided to ignore the truth to survive and get what they wanted, which I can understand but I guess they still didn't have the decency to shut up when Jean got away. The anger that crawled through my skin when the smear campaign and the notebook/postcards/magnets thing happened. You should have stayed silent until the end you fucks.
“Do it, then. It wouldn’t take much; we all know I have brittle bones.”
Jeremy pov kinda gave you whiplash, with him waking up super early, helping homeless men, but then you start noticing all the things he avoids almost effortlessly and like, what are you hiding sunshine man??
What actually broke me about his povs was him noticing all these details about Jean, and then misinterpreting them, bc whatever he's been through Jean has had it 100 times worse and this doesn't even factor in Jeremy world. I'm pretty sure he'll get the whole truth in the end and I'm scared of what it'll do to him.
Also Jean being like Ravens always had to keep secrets and then spilling most of them almost unprompted, let's laugh in order not to cry
“He hasn’t played a clean game in years,” Kevin admitted, “but he knows how to follow orders. If you tell him to submit, he will.” “Literally the most awkward way you could’ve worded it,” Jeremy said.
This will keep coming back, Kevin please. (He 100% ships it, one of us)
The Foxes catching the too tired Trojans and Jeremy being like, you are all approved (I need the two teams to interact now)
Also the Trojans being like how are they still standing, Neil how are you still running??
Someone pointed out they wanted Neil to interact with Jeans closest teammates bc if he is a madman by Jean standards, what would normal people make of him? To which yes, but also guys consider this: Neil said to Cat and Laila that they were terrifying after the semifinal, he took a step back when Jeremy opened the door and silently invited him in. I need Neil and the floozies to interact so Neil can experience real fear.
Mafia bosses have nothing on wholesome people, the true weakness of one Neil Josten
Jean immediately hanging up on Jeremy will never not be funny
When you get to the title of the book and it's Jean insulting people <3
I will Never, NEVER, get over the "nineteen". Never.
I love Abby but when she told that bit about fighting back, It Hurt. She probably didn't really mean it and didn't know everything bc how are you supposed to keep fighting when you are fifteen, alone and forsaken in a place that is built to break you? As it has been pointed out, Neil had rebellion beaten into him by a mother that chose him and ran; Jean had a sister that he hoped to protect and parents that sold him away like property. Five months were actually a long time.
Dobson keeps being iconic, I don't know what to think about the I don't know how exy works bit: I mean I've been obsessing with this and still don't know how exy works (plz don't hate me), but at the same time it was such a power move and got Jean to talk
“Of course it’d be you, you tedious malcontent.” “Good morning to you, too.” Nathaniel held up an oversized bandage.
You see why I need more of their interactions, right?
Nathaniel was different; he always would be. He wasn’t a Raven, but he was, same as Jean. He was Jean’s misplaced forever partner, an unfulfilled promise Jean had stopped believing in years ago.
You can now be forever partners while you tear down your families :)
I think that I'm stuck on the two of them bc while Kevin broke a promise to save himself (to which no hate, when dealing with madmen like Riko you have to save yourself) and still couldn't, not completely, Neil was a promise made and broken by other people. Jean hates him bc they were supposed to share a destiny and all the misery, but I think very deep down he knows that if Nathaniel had come to the Nest they would still be nursing wounds and appeasing a tyrant. Neil is the one that stood against Riko when Kevin wanted to hide, the one that gave him courage by example, the one that dragged Jean away from the Ravens, both for selfish reasons (taking down Riko) and better ones (paying him back for saving his life a the Nest).
But still
“You are only here now because you are an abominable cockroach,”
Funny how Neil forgot to tell us about the breakdown about Kevin's tattoo, he was probably thinking about the match. Junkie.
The cheese drawer guys, ???
To this day I still can't decide what was more iconic: Kevin Day switching playing hand halfway through the game and pretty much scoring everything until the last second, Neil being so fast that it made up for him being a shitty defender, Andrew crossing the court to keep Neil from being murdered (I'm biased, but still iconic moments all of them)
Experiencing this match from Jean's pov was amazing writing, like the countdown of the last ten seconds, the Riko-Neil bit without volume but from a different angle (I didn't really realize everyone was able to see the King attempting murder live on TV, but hey perspective)
Run, Jean thought. He didn't know if he was thinking it at Andrew or Nathaniel. Run.
"That wasn't a miracle," Jean typed out. "That was the Foxes."
:')
When Jean found about Riko though :'(
The shudder that wracked his chest should have been revulsion, but it fell dangerously short. This didn't feel like joy or relief; it only felt like loss. [...] Who was he without them?"
I loved that he woke up to Renee and Neil though, the rainbow and the witness
Renee always hitting the point, this wonderful girl
"Maybe you're mourning the wreckage he made of your life. You're allowed to grieve what he took from you."
"It's impressive, isn't it? How easily these monsters die in the end."
Neil Abram Josten said I'm done letting monsters ruin my life and my people, he actually promised.
When he called him Neil guys, tears
Also I found peculiar that when thinking about the room he destroyed Jean calls it "Neil's dorm room", not Kevin's who he's known for actually longer. It's what makes me think that they have a chance at not being misplaced forever anymore.
Renee either hits you with hidden wisdom of the universe or with practical and brutal advice, and we love her for that
The two of them, the Two Of THEEEEEEEEM
Jean noticed how Andrew and Neil moved like they were caught in each other's gravity, in each other's space more than they were out of it, cigarette smoke and matching armbands and lingering looks when one fell out of orbit for too long.
Just leaving this here.
The airport bit :'(
"Men like Wymack didn't exist. They couldn't; they shouldn't."
Enter Jeremy Knox and his yo-yo in the middle of said airport. Flawless.
This man was put on Earth to test Jean, at least that's what he will keep thinking from here on
The rest of this book is Jean having conversations with people and not understanding them, bc he's been living for five (seven) years in a cult. It is an escalation pretty painful to watch, I think the Trojans are all of us :'(
Question: will Jean end up teaching Jeremy French? Will Jeremy learn by himself? I think I'd probably prefer the latter
Cat, the mess, the music, the tour, I love her so much
Jeremy "he's a little off" Knox, he was trying
Barkbark von Barkenstein
Jean Moreau and the real world (bubble tea? you have to shop for stuff? you sign things yourself? you leave campus? someone help this disoriented french bean)
"Something had gone horribly wrong at Evermore"
oh Jeremy
Watching Jeremy regret almost all his questions :'(
“Three fractured ribs. Sprained LCL. Twisted ankle. Broken nose. That’s most of it.” That’s most of it.
Laila, who pushed and got angry for Jean and didn't back down despite him lashing out, my beloved
You look like a Ken doll." + "This isn't blond."
"Not Grayson.[...] Please." that one made me sick, the writing made me feel even only a part of what Jean was feeling and it was enough to feel sick
The water :'(
Jean just leaving when confronted with Laila and Jeremy in swimsuits was very bi of him
Lucas coming in looking like a well know nightmare and the Ravens dropping like flies
I didn't ask.
It's not like I didn't know, right? But I still died inside
Zane and the betrayal
Jeremy didn’t let him get away with it. “That’s not the issue and you know it. I don’t want to crowd you.” “You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”
Jean taking one look at the doctor sent by the coaches and going nope, Dobson will be definitely better
Jeremy seeing the nightmares and the scars and not being able to do much:(
A hand on his chin startled him into looking up. When he met Jean’s eyes, Jean only said, “Focus on what’s important.” “I am,” Jeremy said. Jean opened his mouth, closed it again, and let go of Jeremy without a word. Jeremy snagged his arm when he started to turn away. “Who did this to you?”
I'm sorry did he just
“It’s not about size, anyway.” “Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.
“Say ‘yes, Jeremy’.” He had the distinct impression Jean wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes, Jeremy.” Jeremy forgot everything else he could have said in favor of staring. It was the first time he’d heard Jean say his name.
Are you seeing this? Yes? Good, let's go on
“If I ever make you uncomfortable or make you feel unsafe, will you promise to tell me? If you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s wrong and why, at least trust me enough to tell me that something is wrong. I can’t fix things if I don’t know there’s a problem. As your captain and your partner, don’t I at least deserve the chance to not be a villain in your story?”
The pool bit :'( and after when they tell there are no pools at Evermore. Riko is so lucky to already be dead :)
You’re forcing us to hurt you without giving us any say in the matter.”
Watching Jean trying to navigate his interactions with the Trojans was painful, frustrating but also hopeful. This boy has been hurt so much and so often, he doesn't get what normal looks like anymore. But the Trojans don't let him get away with it (even if it breaks their heart and the coaches will probably get a lot of grey hair from this)
"Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.” “You are naïve.” “Maybe you’ll define success by how we do this season, but I’m not obligated to do the same. You are going to be my success story: Jean Moreau the person, not Jean Moreau of the perfect Court. You take care of one, and I’ll take care of the other.” “That is not how it works.” “Is there a rule against it?” “There is no merit to it. This is all I am.” Jeremy ignored that and asked again, “Is there a rule against it?”
Jeremy gay panicking and the photo of Renee
The floozy line!
Every time Jeremy goes "our coaches" or "our teammates" all I can think in my head is "someone will die" "of fun!!!!"
Jean wondering if the Trojans have something against recruiting tall players xD
“Thank you for worrying about them. You’re a good man, Jean Moreau.” “A ridiculous sentiment,” he said. “I mean it,”
This man didn't even second guess himself, he had to ask because he knew and it didn't even occur to him to be silent. Excuse me sir? Shut up you are a good man
“I assumed the Trojans were idiots,” Jean said. “Now I think you are all insane.” “It’s a step up,” Cody said. “I’ll take it.”
The practices, the scars pt2
“It is all I am, Coach.”
“We did not want outsiders at Evermore.” “Except Neil,” Cat said. “Neil was a special case,” Jean allowed.
#accurate
You’re hurting me.” “It has been toward for five years,” Jean said, looking past Jeremy at the scrimmage that was still going on without them. “It is not that easy to undo.” Jeremy frowned at him and echoed, “Five? You were only with the Ravens for three.” “I moved into Evermore two years before I enrolled,” Jean said, and hauled Jeremy to one side. The stray ball that had been coming for them ricocheted off his chest instead of Jeremy’s back, and Jean scooped it up on the rebound with a quick snap of his wrist. He hurled it across the court toward Cody one-handed before finally letting go of Jeremy. “I will try harder.”
The notebooks breakdown hurt so bad bc Cat and Laila being angry for him (they are all of us), Jeremy trying to mediate bc he's been there, he pushed and Jean broke and he doesn't want to hurt him, and Jean who confesses his secrets without meaning to, just to realize and panic. What a recipe for a disaster.
“How dare they blame you for anything after what they did to you. How dare you grieve them.” It hit like a sucker punch, but Jean’s frustrated rejoinder was worse: “They don’t know.”
They don't know, but they could guess. They could smell the blood. They joked about his brittle bones. He was sixteen. I'm not sorry for the mercy I don't have after finishing this book
Jeremy could only watch in wretched silence as Jean tried to walk himself back from the edge. He cast his phone aside in favor of catching Jean’s face in his hands, and the way Jean flinched at his touch was almost his undoing. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Hey. Jean. Look at me.” Jean refused, and Jeremy grasped desperately for anything that could bring Jean back to him. He seized on the only thing he could and threw Jean’s words back at him: “You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.” It wouldn’t work, but it did. Jean opened his eyes to meet Jeremy’s stare. “I told you not to ask me about him.”
I had seen the quote before reading but no one told me what followed ç.ç
He felt a tremor in Jean’s hands, and for a blinding moment he was sure Jean would lean into the safety of this silent confession. But Jean only sucked in a slow breath and said, “Now I am not safe with you, captain.” Letting go of Jean was the hardest thing Jeremy had ever done. Everything in him railed against this, and for a moment he regretted giving Jean a way out.
I was not crying, I swear.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, because he didn’t have the strength for small talk or a softer approach right now. “Did Riko break your hand?”
That was one heavy conversation and it's just the start (Jeremy is Not Fineâ„ąïž)
He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” “I will wait as long as it takes,” Jeremy said.
Still best boy
And maybe in many ways he still was, but a martyr could still be a monster when the cameras weren’t rolling.
Boy do I have news for you (do you think Jeremy will know that Riko didn't kill himself? Does it matter? I think not knowing this particular detail would be fine, I still don't really know how much this sunshine boy can take (more than I expected but still))
Did I mention that I really love the apartment trio? Cat and Laila agreeing to silence but still being angry (drag them girls, draaaaag them), the dinner and movie and Jean not getting up to leave
Did I mention Lucas is free to shut up and play? :) Because I get that you are angry, but 1) it's not your decision to make, we don't need your conspiracy theories 2) it's not Jean problem, he has enough of them leave him alone
“Ask him why he’s so sure the rumors are true. Ask him what his part in it was. If you’re going to believe him just because he’s blood, then at least make him tell you the truth.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas demanded.
And Jean still deciding not to lie, he may be an asshole but almost everyone he has known didn't deserve him
Also I don't know where Lucas got the audacity? You think there is something the justifies breaking a player's ribs?? What is wrong with you, you are part of the sunshine court
The dread when asking if Grayson was home
The bike ride :')
Now that they were settled, he expected an interrogation or a reason for this unscheduled trip out. When she failed to explain herself, Jean finally asked, “Why are we here?” “I love it here,” [...] “I don’t know. I just felt like some fresh air would do you good. There’s nothing like a ride to get you out of your head and into the moment, you know?” Jean considered that for a minute. “Thank you.”
Jean waited until he was out of earshot. “I don’t understand.” “Trust us,” Jeremy said tiredly. “Neither do we.”
Jean vs the Trojans, a summary
The monster shows up and it was a mess and Jean has never had a break, literally never
Which was extremely literal bc Lucas wanted to talk and then Neil shows up
I need a separate post for the last pages bc I started this 24 h ago and I want to do it justice. So part 2 coming.
Edit: I misspelled Jean's surname *facepalms and goes to hide*
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someonelookingpraediti · 5 months ago
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Mid Year Book Tag 2024!
I haven't seen any of these so far this year, but I don't follow as many book blogs as I did previously, so maybe they are out there, and just haven't crossed my path. I've just reused the questions from last year.
1. What’s the best book you’ve read so far this year? That's actually a really difficult question, because I just haven't been as enthusiastic with my reading this year. The one I enjoyed the most was The Sunshine Court - but only because I'm so obsessed with AFTG - I wouldn't call it the best book I've read. I think I'm going to have to go with Butter, by Asako Yuzuki. It wasn't what I was expecting, but it was a riveting read, and so well constructed.
2. What’s the best sequel you’ve read so far this year? Probably Lockwood & Co. four and five - they were a brilliant end to the series, and I'm glad I finally went back to these books after I was interrupted last year. I also read books two and three of the Howl's Moving Castle books, and loved those too!
3. What’s a new release you haven’t read yet, but want to? I bought The Familiar by Leigh Bardugo, and The Shadow Key by Susan Stokes-Chapman, full of good intentions, planning to read them straight away. I really enjoyed both authors' previous work, and I'm sure these will be just as good, I just haven't got around to it yet!
4. Which new release are you most anticipating for the second half of the year? I am so, SO excited for Graveyard Shift, by M.L. Rio! I loved If We Were Villains, I can't wait to see what else the author can come up with! Fingers crossed she isn't a one-trick pony, and this one will be just as good!
5. Which book was the biggest disappointment? I DNF-ed Grieving Gold, by Daniel McDaniel, which was really quite awful, but I wasn't too disappointed because I didn't have any expectations. I think maybe A Study in Drowning, by Ava Reid, which I had such high hopes for, but fell well short of my expectations.
6. Which book was the biggest surprise? I can't honestly say I've been surprised by anything so far this year. Normally there's something that absolutely blows me away when I wasn't expecting it, but not this time.
7. Who is your favourite new (to you) author this year? I read a book by Krystal Sutherland, which was really good, and definitely made me want to try another. And Asako Yuzuki, I will definitely keep an eye out for more of her books!
8. Do you have a new favourite character? So many! I recently read the first Magnus Chase book, and what a guy! Or pretty much every single character from The Sunshine Court! I know we technically were introduced to Laila and Cat in the previous series, but they actually got personalities in this one.
9. What was a book that made you cry? Obviously The Sunshine Court had me wailing - poor, sad little Jean Moreau! We Were Liars also made me tear up a little when I finished it yesterday.
10. What was a book that made you happy? The sequels to Howl's Moving Castle (Castle in the Air, and House of Mane Ways) both made me just as happy as the first one. And The Witchwood Knot, by Olivia Atwater. I wasn't such a fan of the author's standalone that I read, but her faerie stories are amazing!
11. What was your favourite book-to-screen adaptation this year? I have seen absolutely zero book-to-screen adaptations this year. I keep meaning to finally watch Lockwood & Co now I've finished the books. I can't think of anything else I'm particularly interested in seeing.
12. Which book had the prettiest cover? Probably A Study in Drowning. I have the Illumicrate hardcover, and it's so gorgeous, even though the book itself was only average.
13. How are you doing with your yearly goals? Well... not great. Rather than a numerical goal, this year I set myself some monthly challenges. Read a backlog book, annotate a book, etc, etc. I've not managed to hit all six monthly goals so far. Assuming that I would use a different book for each goal, I'd have been aiming for at least 72 books. I'm on 34, so I'm two behind at the moment.
14. What’s a book you need to read before the end of the year? I want to read The Familiar and The Shadow Key. I also want to finally get round to Caravel, A Deadly Education, Emily Wilde. And I still haven't read the sequels to Only a Monster or Belladonna. I need to keep making tracks through the Riordan books. I need to at least finish Magnus Chase, and hopefully start Trials of Apollo.
Most importantly, I need to get back into my blogging. I've just been awful the first half of the year - I've been constantly behind. I have a whole day to myself on Thursday, and I'm going to spend the entire day catching up on my posts, and I'll keep it up going forward.
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vickyvicarious · 4 years ago
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bad days
@angelrtsy95 this is for you. 
(based off this beautiful and sad art by @citrusvoid)
also on AO3 and FFN.
.
They all have bad days, sometimes. It'd be impossible not to, the lives that they lead. Sometimes it's about what just happened - Leverage has met its fair share of evil, often all the more rotten behind the mask of a respectable member of society. Sure, they always win in the end... but only for a given definition of 'win', because there's no actual eradicating these kinds of people. It's impossible to always be satisfied with helping just one family, destroying just one small empire in a world full of them. Sometimes helping one person almost makes it worse, because that only makes you more aware of the extent you can’t get to.
Of course, a lot of bad days aren't about anything happening now. They all have a past: the kind that ripples out into the present, that creeps into your mind when you’re least prepared and sucks you back under. It’s never for long. They don’t ever let it stop them, but there’s no such thing as simply being over it, either.
In the beginning, they took care of themselves. Parker would go nonverbal and nearly nonexistent; she’d vanish whenever anyone turned their back on her. Nate crawled all the way into a bottle and lashed out with vicious accuracy at anyone who tried to drag him out. Sophie showed it least, but when she had a bad day she also tended to get quiet. Not in the same way as Parker, vanishing where she stood; Sophie would instead gaze thoughtfully off in the distance, be perpetually distracted and sad when she let her guard down. Eliot was grumpy often, but when he was really upset he would just leave. He’d go away, completely remove himself from them, and come back a day or six later with bruises or cuts or a sling, still frowning.
Nate wore his pain like a weapon; Parker a shield. Sophie floated away; Eliot anchored himself down. Alec was probably the only one of them, at the start, who knew how to go to another person for help on a bad day. Whenever he felt that choking feeling crawling up his throat, that familiar aching fear - he shut himself up in his room. Wrapped himself in fluffy blankets and made hot chocolate, and called Nana. She somehow could always tell the difference between a call like that and plain old socializing, and they’d talk for hours until he felt better. Not good, often, but she knew how to blunt the sharp edge until he could cope in less important ways, get caught up in a Star Trek marathon or lead a raid in World of Warcraft or hack an alphabet soup agency again.
It obviously helped that a lot of his worst demons were the ones Nana had banished, long ago: feeling alone and unloved, worrying he wasn’t enough, fearing he’d lose her far too soon. Okay, so he helped with that last one, but she’d kept on living, so Alec considered that her victory like the rest. Still, he’d picked up plenty of his own problems since leaving home, and she listened to whatever he had to say. Sometimes she gave advice, sometimes she just changed the subject to stories of some of his foster siblings or the latest drama with her neighbor or their stories on TV. It didn’t really matter, she was his Nana, she had always loved and accepted him and been there to rely on; she always would.
The rest of the crew didn’t have people like that anymore. Not at the beginning.
But it didn’t take too terribly long for them to start becoming those people for one another. And like anything, it was easier in fair weather at first. They’d hang out and watch TV and eat food together, but no one came to another member of the crew for comfort when they felt sick or upset or lonely. That took much longer.
It happened, though. Alec wasn’t even the first one; that was Sophie and Parker. Parker started poking at Sophie, metaphorically and otherwise, whenever she was in one of her horrible lost moods, and for the most part it seemed to work. She’d snap out of it, just a little, whenever Parker forced her to react to what was actually happening around her. And it happened for the rest of them, too: Nate still drank himself to death, but he visibly tried to bite back on the vitriol on his worst days. Sometimes Sophie could reach him even then, though everyone else still was better off not pushing too far. Parker still went silent and small, but she stopped leaving the room every time. Instead she’d sit on the couch hunched up into herself, wrap her arms around her knees... and lean her side into someone next to her. Usually Eliot, Sophie a little more rarely, and then Alec. Even after they got together, that ratio didn’t change - but she held his hand sometimes. Spoke to him, when they were alone, in short bitten-off sentences, and held him tight till his knuckles ached. 
Alec liked hugs, when he was really upset - liked being wrapped up in someone’s arms, feeling their warmth and a steady heartbeat under his ear. He liked listening to them talk, sometimes even more than he wanted to spill his own guts. Sophie was fantastic at telling stories that brought him out of his bad mood, while Parker’s firm touch was infinitely comforting. Nate and Eliot were less comfortable with the physical affection, but Eliot would always hug him back for a few seconds, before patting him hard on the back and making him something delicious to eat; Nate often managed to find a job that was up Alec’s alley, or make some awkward comment that was about ninety times more comforting than it ever ought to be.
They’d all gotten better about being vulnerable together, about seeking comfort from one another.
Except Eliot.
Oh, he was better about the smaller stuff. He hugged, now. He’d go on cooking sprees and essentially force feed them comfort food. He even talked about his feelings. It was just that he didn’t do any of that on Bad Days. He’d work through a rough mood with their support just fine, but whenever anything bothered him deep, he withdrew again. Left, again. Came back a week later limping or bandaged and didn’t say a word about any of it. And Alec would never want to push him - that’d be the worst reaction. Eliot knew how to be dangerous, sometimes couldn’t help being dangerous; maybe that was what he needed on days like that. Or maybe he just couldn’t turn it off and didn’t want it turned on them. Either way, Alec trusted him and wasn’t going to press for anything to change if he wasn’t ready... but he still worried, every time. Eliot wasn’t going to lose a fight, he wasn’t going to leave like that and not come back to them. He wasn’t ever going to hurt any of them, and he knew how to stay intact enough to do his job. But intact wasn’t the same as safe. Every time, Eliot came back injured, and Alec honestly didn’t know if he was letting it happen or if he just threw himself into situations where it was unavoidable. There wasn’t much difference between the two, really, and he wanted to help. He wanted Eliot to come to him instead, him and Parker both. Sophie or Nate would do too, anyone would really as long as he stayed safe, but - but he and Parker had talked about this, they wanted Eliot with them. In every way, that kind of came with the territory of being in love, but especially this one.
It didn’t happen though. Not for years - not for years after they learned about Damien Moreau, even, and at the time Alec had wondered if that’d been what stopped Eliot from ever seeking them out before then. If he’d thought it’d be too much like lying, asking them to comfort him when he knew what he’d done had been horrible, had been something Alec couldn’t forgive.
(He wasn’t ever going to ask. He’d still love Eliot, he swore he would, but he’d never ever ask.)
But even then, even long after then, Eliot kept to himself. When Parker and Alec finally, finally convinced him that yes, they wanted him too, that didn’t make a difference; for so many other wonderful things but not this. He went away, came back, didn’t say a word. He didn’t change his routine when Sophie and Nate retired either, just sometimes mentioned that he was leaving for a while, first. None of them ever had really bad days on the job, they were all too good at compartmentalizing for that, but Eliot especially seemed to time them well. It was damn suspicious - but so were all those bruises, every single time, and those were worse.
When it finally changed, Alec didn’t know why. He didn’t ask either, that was another thing he knew better than to ever ask about - but, god, his heart ached to know. Because Eliot didn’t come to him, not all the way. He came so, so close and then stopped short - and Alec knew this couldn’t be the first time he’d done that. It couldn’t be, he just knew it, and he wondered how many times Eliot had done this first, had suffered right by his door and then left and came back days later hurting on the outside instead.
It was three forty-two AM. Alec woke up thirsty. He yawned at the ceiling, considered just rolling over and ignoring it, but his throat was dry and he knew his awareness of that was going to take over completely and drive him mad as soon as he shut his eyes again. It happened all the time. So, even though he was extremely comfortable, he wiggled out from under Parker’s arm and walked out of their bedroom.
He didn’t notice Eliot on his way to the kitchen. (Wondered now, too often and always with a sick twist in his gut, how many times he hadn’t noticed him on his way back to bed either.) Drank a glass of water in the dark, felt it cool and refreshing down his throat and drank another half-glass after just for the feeling. Then he padded back along the hall, scratching absently at his stomach as he went - and that was where he saw him.
Eliot was sitting in the hall, just outside the door to their bedroom. He was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday: a white t-shirt and jeans, brown shoes. He hadn’t come back yet when Alec and Parker went to bed, but none of them exactly had a regular sleep schedule and Eliot had said he was going to be back late from hanging out with some old friends. So it was possible that he’d only just gotten back, maybe that he was drunk and tired and it seemed more logical to just sit down here instead.
That wasn’t it though, so clearly wasn’t what was happening here. Eliot’s knees were up, his feet planted in front of him. He sat with his back against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped around the back of his head. He was just staring down at the floor beneath his feet, holding himself down and still and Alec could see the tension in his arms from the opposite end of the hall. Eliot could’ve been here for hours. He’d nearly walked right past him again, he’d nearly -
Alec didn’t think about it. He was there before his brain had even fully processed what he was seeing; fell down to his knees so hard they cracked loudly against the wood floor but didn’t stop. He scooted in, tucked his whole self around Eliot, one knee under his bent leg and one wedged between his back and the wall. Wrapped his arms around the top of Eliot’s head, grabbed on tight to his wrist; rested his chin on top of Eliot’s head and stared into the dark, feeling his own breath go shaky and rough.
Eliot didn’t move under him, didn’t let up the tension in his grip at all. But there was a shape emerging from the darkness of the bedroom; Parker must’ve heard Alec hit the floor, because she wandered out to join them, yawning and loose-limbed. Her eyes went wide when she saw what was going on, but she reacted quickly too. Parker just flopped on top of them both, letting her head fall down to join Eliot as her arms draped loosely over the top of his head to rest on Alec’s shoulders. She was doing that gross mouth-breathing thing she did sometimes when she’d just woken up; for a long minute it was the only sound in that dark, warm hallway.
Then Eliot started to shiver. Just a little at first, but soon it was a full-body shudder that just kept going and going and Alec squeezed him tighter, held him closer and breathed him in and finally spoke: “We got you, babe. We gotchu.”
“Together,” Parker mumbled, voice soft and arms still loose, but she was sitting up on her knees and pressing her head close in, her words going right into Eliot’s ear.
He just sat there and shook, and they held him and waited, long enough that Alec’s back and arms ached from sitting there too long and then a while after that. Eventually, Eliot relaxed: tension bleeding out of him slowly, slowly, slowly.
His head drooped lower. His fingers unlaced, and Alec caught them with his own. Parker sat up as he pulled back, pulled Eliot’s arms down. He kissed his hands, one then the other on his knuckles, and they weren’t swollen or wet. Just loose in his grasp, curling slightly under his kiss.
When he looked up, Eliot’s head was still down. He was watching Parker as she unlaced his shoes for him. Alec stuck a hand under the knee closest to him, lifted it so Eliot’s foot was no longer on the floor, and Parker tugged the shoe and then sock off. He reached under to do the same with the other leg next, and Eliot just let him. He didn’t resist or help.
They stood up next, leaving the shoes and socks in the hall to trip over in the morning. Eliot walked with them into their bedroom; when they stopped at the edge of the bed he sighed softly.
Parker stepped up in front of him. Looked Eliot quietly in the eyes as she unbuckled his belt, tugged it loose and then pulled his pants down. He just stood there, slack and exhausted and when she knelt down to tug the jeans past his ankles, he leaned his head back into Alec’s shoulder. Even though Alec hadn’t heard him cry at all for however long they’d sat out there, Eliot was moving with the sluggishness of the truly sobbed-out. Alec wrapped his arms around Eliot’s back and bent down to kiss his shoulder. He swallowed loudly, and the sound made Alec’s own throat feel tight.
Parker climbed onto the bed first, scooted all the way over and laid down with her arms and legs out, waiting for them to join her. Alec took a moment to let go, but when he did Eliot immediately crawled in after her, pressing his forehead into her neck as she pulled him close. Alec stopped to shut the door and make sure the blinds were completely shut over the window before he followed. By the time he made it back to the bed, they’d shifted around. Parker was spooning Eliot, a leg over top of his and a hand lightly fisted in his hair.
Alec pulled the covers over all of them, slid right up against Eliot and sandwiched him fully between himself and Parker. He kissed her over Eliot’s head, wrapped his arm around them both, and shut his eyes. Listened to their breathing slow.
Eliot didn’t say anything. Not that night and not the next morning. Despite Alec’s efforts, either some morning sun got to him or his internal alarm clock just ignored even the worst need for rest, because Eliot got up first. He made them all breakfast and didn’t talk about what had happened with such clear deliberation that they both knew not to, either. He was weird all day, had a kind of wild look in his eyes and didn’t really hold his end of the conversation well... but he didn’t leave, and he didn’t stay away for days, and he didn’t come back with bruises or cuts or a concussion.
Not that time. He still did, sometimes. But sometimes Parker still vanished, sometimes no one but Nana would do and Alec couldn’t cry for anyone else, not even his partners. Eliot started showing up next to them more often on his bad days. He didn’t quite ask for their help, but he sat somewhere they could find him, held himself tight inside and when they held him too he’d start to shake. He cried, sometimes, but usually he just got quiet and tense and exhausted, afterwards. He never talked, and Alec wasn’t sure he ever would, but that was okay.
Eliot was okay. He had them both to help, just like they had him when they needed. He let them help now, let Alec hold him and protect him and keep him safe like he’d always done for them. It made him feel so important, so trusted and full to overflowing with love. He checked the hallway in both directions every time he got up for a glass of water. Most of the time, it was empty, but sometimes he held Eliot again, hugged him tight until his grip on himself finally relaxed.
Kissed his knuckles then, on calloused and unbroken skin.
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91percentpynch · 4 years ago
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jean moreau and tattoos
look i have both terrible time managemant and the inability to focus on university when my brain keeps yelling jean moreau headcanons at me so i‘ll give you ✹ this✹ now and the update of my kevaaron fic hopefully next tuesday? next week? this is so short but i still hope you enjoy it!! if you‘re wondering what dogs i‘m talking about you can check out my „jean + dogs“ post!!
jean moreau covers up the cursed three with a moon. it‘s the first tattoo he chooses for himself. it matches the sun jeremy got on his collar bone after jean called him his sun and jeremy continously told him „if i am the sun, you are the moon. reflecting the love i‘m giving you right back to me“
so following the moon were stars. wandering from around his moon, down his neck to his back where they would get lost into constellations. constellations that resemble his thoughts and feelings. messy and chaotic. dark and beautiful. that they covered up some more of his scars was just a bonus. really.
on his bad days jeremy would mumble to him „have the courage to exist, jean moreau. the future is bright“. so naturally the next tattoos he got was „have the courage to exist“ in jeremy‘s handwriting on his left wrist and „the future is bright“ in the same font on his right wist.
jean loves to doodle. from flowers to the sun to jeremy‘s eyes. one day he drew an anatomy heart with flowers growing out of it. he went to the tattoo shop, showed them the drawing, pointed right over his heart and told them to put it there. it was a reminder that yes his heart might have been broken into a trillion pieces and yes his biggest wish might once have been for it to simply stop beating, but today he was alive. flowers grew out of the broken pieces of his heart fixing it together again. with his journey to find self-love and self-acceptance they began to bloom just like he himself. and the broken, lost twenty one year old boy turned into a force of nature so strong and beautiful and bright that god himself wouldn‘t dare to fight him.
jean and jeremy decided to get another matching tattoos on their ankles. two hands holding out to reach each other. because that‘s what they did, isn‘t it? they held each other on their bad days, holding the broken pieces togther. they held each other on their good days to absorb the warmth of each other. they held onto each other as if their life depended on it, because perhaps it simply did.
jean morau found an unusal friend in the ever so angry, ever so quiet aaron minyard. because in some way they were the same. in some way they were connected. in some way they simply understood each other. so they got matching tatoos as well. they decided on a semikolon on the inside of their middle finger. the semikolon a symbol for a story that is not yet done and the middle fnger? well, it‘s a fuck you to everyone who ever dared to doubt them. a fuck you to everyone who ever dared to hurt them. a fuck you to everyone who looks at them and doesn‘t see how good they are, how they deserve love and attention and all the good in the world. a fuck you to their younger selves, a fuck you to their abuser, because aaron and jean lived and they died.
the words riko craved into his skin, using jean‘s body as a curel cavern for his ugly painting, were covered up by declarations of love. „worthless“ was replaced by „mi amor“. „faggot“ was replaced by „moi lunes“. „riko‘s property“ was replaced by „love of my life“. it were things jeremy called him. things that showed him that after all this human being - the emobidment of the sun even - was able to look at him and fall in love with every single scar, every single truth and lie about him, every inch of his being.
so when jean moreau finally was ready to let go of the three, to let go of the pain and the insecurities and anxieties that came with it, when he slowly but steadily began to see his body as his own canvas, he began to fill it with things he loved. with his friends and declarations of love. with the stars that gave him hope and the moon that would reflect the love of his long lost lover. and when he understood how good it felt he decided he wanted to give it back.
so when jean morau saw the little shop in a hidden corner of los angeles where the sun always shone he got it. he always knew he would quit exy and so he did. he started his own tattoo studio, drawing on other people with so much love and affection that he was one of the best in the field. after training jeremy‘s laugh would fill the studio. in the mornings his dogs would sleep at his feet, while he designed tattoos. ocassionally renee and aaron would come around, looking at him with so much pride and happiness in their eyes. and it was one of those days that jean moreau realized: he might not have healed now but he felt happiness and love and affection and that was all he ever truly needed.
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nekojitachan · 4 years ago
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it’s been a long week but at least I got this done. And now I have to get chapter fics done. Really. But the first part of the angsty Raven!Andrew soulmate not fic is done. Not that I’m already thinking of the second part. And hey! It’s a fic that’s under 40k...
Last part can be found here
Mentions of violence (being beaten) but not explicit, but I think that’s it? Oh, references to Ichirou’s past.
*******
Waking up in pain wasn’t unusual for Andrew, not after all the years in the foster system then his time spent in juvie. He’d gotten so used to it that it had been unexpected, living with Nicky and Aaron, when he woke up most days without the sensation of pain somewhere in his body, only to be replaced with the strain from overworked muscles once he joined the Ravens (oh, and a sadistic bastard who had a thing for caning his players).
But this? The stinging throb from punches and kicks? Definitely familiar. What wasn’t? The large room with black leather couches, large, flat-screen televisions on the wall, a fancy-looking bar, and expensive artwork scattered around the place, not to mention an expanse of windows on the one side. Andrew rubbed his bound hands through the plush red carpet he lay upon and suspected that he was in the East Tower where Nathaniel spent so much time.
He’d just started to push himself into a sitting position when he heard the sound of muffled footsteps. “Looks like the runt is awake,” a deep voice called out. “Just like Junior, he bounces back fast.”
Before Andrew could turn around, he found himself jerked upright by the back of his jersey by Nathan Wesninski of all people; the bastard was dressed in black slacks and a light grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He barely had time to take that in before he was punched in the stomach, right where his padding was the thinnest, with enough force to make him gasp in pain, and then again in the face. As he struggled to shove the bastard away, to do something, Wesninski laughed and slammed him against the wall. “And just like Junior, you don’t know when to behave and take your punishment, you little-“
“That’s enough.”
The firmly spoken command was enough to stop Wesninski in mid-punch; the bastard grunted as he let go of Andrew’s throat and stepped away. “I was told to teach him a lesson.”
“I believe you’ve done that,” a young Asian man, dressed in a tailored black suit, told Wesninski as he stepped forward; he looked to be in his early twenties, if that, with a lean build and black hair combed back from a face which was oddly familiar.
Andrew suspected that he’d finally met Ichirou Moriyama.
“Tetsuji said-“
“And I just told you that’s enough.” Despite Ichirou not raising his voice, something in his dark gold eyes made Wesninski stiffen and bow his head. “I’ll deal with Minyard, you can leave and inform my uncle that the matter is resolved on your way out.” When Wesninski moved forward, Ichirou spoke again. “And Nathan? I’ll also deal with Nathaniel.”
Something unpleasant flashed across Wesninski’s face at the mention of his son. “It’s best if I handle my-“
Ichirou cut off the man known as ‘the Butcher’ once again as he walked over to the bar. “He’s not your anything anymore, not after you sold him to my family. You have your orders.” He looked up from pouring a drink to give Wesninski a cold look, as if daring the man to make him say anything else.
He might be a sadistic, abusive bastard, but Wesninski apparently could get the hint; he bowed his head in a curt manner then stalked out of the room.
Andrew slumped against the wall and watched him go, then focused his attention on the unknown Moriyama; well, that was partially untrue. He knew that the young man was Riko’s older brother yet had nothing to do with the asshole, and that for some reason, he tended to look out for Nathaniel.
That he appeared to be here to ‘deal’ with Andrew.
“What, no drink for me?” he drawled as he raised his bound hands to dab at his bleeding lip.
Ichirou regarded him with cool appraisal while he sipped his drink, appearing in no hurry to answer. Once the glass was empty, he set it down on the bar and refilled it. “Nat tells me that you’re intelligent, almost frighteningly so, and never forget a thing. He also says you’re very stubborn, which isn’t a surprise if you’re his soulmate.”
Andrew merely grunted in response to those facts.
“I know that you’re rather talented at Exy, considering your stats, and that you’ve been protecting Nat.” Ichirou paused to sip his drink while Andrew gazed at him with a blank expression. “And that Nat has feelings for you, because he’s never tried to sneak anything out of here before, yet he’s suddenly discovered a new appreciation for sweets, something he’s always hated before.”
“That’s quite a guess, isn’t it? Maybe he took them for Moreau,” Andrew suggested as he stared at the zip tie around his wrists as if he could will it to melt away.
Ichirou huffed as if amused and swirled the golden alcohol around in the cut crystal glass. “I’ve known Nat for years, and the only time he requests anything for his partner is when we had marzipan treats. No, this was for you, his soulmate, the man who required seven people to pry him away from Nat.”
It would have taken more than that if that prick, Riko, hadn’t smashed a racquet down on his head; only his helmet saved him from a serious injury. “I do it for all the boys who bring me cupcakes.”
“I’m sure.” The right corner of Ichirou’s mouth twitched upward as he reached into an inner pocket of his suit’s coat and pulled out a knife.
“Gonna start on that whole ‘deal with me’ thing?” Andrew asked as he eyed the weapon with care; Ichirou had a few inches on him, but he thought he could take the Japanese man even with his hands bound – at least knock him aside and get a good head’s start.
“Hmm, something like that. Hold out your hands and remain still,” Ichirou ordered as he came to a halt just out of reach. He gave Andrew a bored look while he flipped the knife in his right hand. “Unless you don’t want to have that drink and talk about something that will benefit Nat in the end.”
That
 was that a trick? Andrew frowned at the Moriyama for a moment before he decided he could always beat him up if it was and held out his hands. He tensed as Ichirou slashed with the knife, but only to sever the plastic tie holding his hands bound. “What about Nat?” he asked as he rubbed his sore wrists once they were free.
“He told me that you found out about his father selling him to my family, and about what we really do,” Ichirou said as he returned to the bar and poured another glass of what turned out to be a very nice whiskey. “Don’t be upset with him, as he knows better than to lie to me.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that ‘knows better’ part; he forced himself to have another sip of whiskey rather than throw it in the asshole’s impassive face. “Yes, I know.” Between Jean and his truth game with Nathaniel, he finally did know why Riko thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted, consequences be damned.
“Yes, so you understand that my father is a very powerful man, one who doesn’t tolerate weakness, and he’s raised me to be the same way,” Ichirou explained as he removed his coat, which revealed a pistol in a shoulder holster, then he began to undo the cuff of his left sleeve once the coat was draped over the back of the nearest couch.
The whiskey helped a little with the pain, so Andrew poured himself another glass. “I know you’ve a pet serial killer in your pocket, and your dad disowned your little brother for some reason, which has given the psycho some serious daddy issues. Is there a point to this?”
Ichirou’s lips twitched again. “Very much so, especially in regard to Riko.” His expression turned flat when he mentioned his brother. “As I said, we’re allowed no weakness.” He turned his left forearm to Andrew, which exposed his soulmate mark.
What was left of it, that was.
Cold washed down Andrew’s spine when he realized that the shadow-like flower petals which surrounded the sword indicated that Ichirou’s soulmate was dead, and he instinctively reached for his own mark as if to confirm that it was unmarred (that Nathaniel was still alive). Ichirou noticed the movement and nodded once before he reached for his neglected drink.
“There is to be only one Moriyama heir at a time, to avoid splitting the clan apart with rivalries. My mother, my father’s soulmate, knew that, yet
.” He paused for a long swallow of whiskey then refilled the glass once it was set down. “Perhaps she felt certain the child would be a girl, or that my father wouldn’t care if it was a boy since he allowed her to bear the child. Regardless, that child was Riko, and my father chose to punish her for risking the clan’s succession.”
Andrew suspected that the woman hadn’t had her credit cards cut up or something like that, not when Ichirou had another gulp of whiskey.
“It wasn’t enough that Riko took my mother away from me, but my father confirmed at his birth that he was a boy and noticed that he had no soulmate mark. He decided that was the one way that his unwanted child was better than me and resolved to spare me his own weakness.” He held up his exposed left arm and gazed at it without emotion. “When I found my soulmate, he immediately had her killed.”
Well, this was such a fascinating story, all full of fun trauma and everything, but Andrew had a living soulmate he needed to check on (and keep out of trouble). “Can we skip to the point of this? I assume there’s a reason you’re monologuing.”
Ichirou’s eyes narrowed as he rolled down his sleeve. “Riko should never have been born, yet here he is, a thorn in my father’s side. Soon he’ll be a thorn in my side, and that I won’t allow.” The young mobster’s voice grew harsh as he tugged on his suit coat. “Unlike my father, I pay attention to what happens here, I know that Tetsuji has created a monster who is one major scandal from bringing unwanted attention our way.”
“You listen to Nathaniel,” Andrew surmised as he debated one more drink but decided against it.
“Nat,” Ichirou acknowledged with a slight bob of his head, “and I’ve placed a few of my men within the Nest in the past year. There has been an increasing amount of Ravens who’ve washed out before graduation in the last couple years due to the ‘stress’ of the program, and now Kevin Day. It’s only going to get worse by the time Riko himself graduates.”
Here came the sales pitch, Andrew thought as he pulled away from the bar. “What do you expect me to do?” Someone like Ichirou didn’t save him from a beating and ply him with expensive alcohol for nothing.
The smile that had threatened to form on Ichirou’s lips finally was allowed free, though it was a slight, cold thing. “Riko has taken much from me, so in return I want him to lose everything.” He turned around to face the expanse of windows which overlooked Castle Evermore. “Everything he holds dear, I want him to see it slip from his grasp right before the life he never should have had ends.”
Andrew thought about that for a moment while he felt out the large bump on his head. “You want me to take down Riko.” Ichirou gave a curt nod. “And the Ravens?”
“The team will need new management to undo the damage Riko and Tetsuji has done to it and allow it to be useful once more.”
Okay. “That sounds like you want me to take down Tetsuji as well.” Not that he was complaining, especially after all the canings. Especially after all the canings to Nathaniel.
Ichirou looked over his shoulder, his expression impassive once more. “It needs to be done in a manner that the main branch can control, to ensure that our people are in place to pick up the pieces once those two are removed.”
Andrew clicked his tongue as he picked up the crystal decanter filled with whiskey. “You’re not asking for much, are you?” When Ichirou remained quiet, he clicked his tongue again. “What do I get out of all this?” A million bucks would be nice.
Ichirou resumed gazing upon the Exy court below. “Other than currently not being beaten half-dead by the Butcher? There is the matter of your soulmate.”
Mention of Nathaniel made Andrew stiffen, ready to throw the decanter at the first threat uttered against him. “What about Nat?” he asked, voice harsh with warning.
“He will always belong to the Moriyamas, he’s too useful and already knows too many things,” Ichirou said, his back still turned to Andrew as if unconcerned about being attacked. “But as with all things of value, he should be treated with care, not abused and locked away. Agree to this, and he’ll formally belong to the main branch. Once you’ve completed the task? Well, we can discuss allowing Nat a bit more freedom.” He turned around to give Andrew a stern look. “Within reason. He’ll always have obligations to honor.”
Andrew would deal with those ‘obligations’ one day, the main thing was protecting Nathaniel. If it also meant getting him away from the Nest by fucking up Riko? Not a problem, not a problem at all. “Can I rely on your people for assistance?” he asked, mind already busy thinking up possibilities; his biggest challenge was being restricted to the Nest most of the time.
“Of course, Nat can assist you with that.” Ichirou cocked his head to the side as he regarded Andrew. “I assume we are in agreement?”
“Make sure the assholes leave Nat alone and yes, we’re in agreement.” Andrew would be all in to kill Riko regardless, but anything that benefited Nathaniel on top was added incentive.
“Wonderful.”
Not really, that would be Andrew wiping out all the Moriyamas and the Butcher as well then riding off into the distance in a nice new Ferrari with Nathaniel beside him, but it was a start. He hummed as he walked away with the whiskey, done with the conversation (and Moriyamas) for the time being; he heard Ichirou huff behind him then speak Japanese a moment later, and found a guard waiting out in the hallway who ‘escorted’ him back to the Nest.
Ichirou might be a Moriyama bastard, but at least he knew when to pick his battles.
The halls of the Nest were unusually quiet and empty; Andrew suspected that everyone had gone to ground after their ‘king’ having a wee bit of disassociation from sanity earlier. He made his way to Nathaniel’s room and didn’t bother to knock before entering.
He found his soulmate huddled on his bed, right cheek bruised and expression startled, with Jean nowhere to be found. “Where’s Valjean?” Andrew asked as he sat down on the other end of the bed.
“Uhm, off with Toby and Leif.” Nathaniel gave him a worried look as he slowly unfurled. “Are you all right? Did Tetsuji do anything to you?”
“Just peachy.” Andrew set the bottle on the floor as he turned toward Nathaniel, sore body protesting from the movement. “Why are you alone?”
Nathaniel frowned as he reached for Andrew’s face but stopped just short of touching him. “Because Tetsuji said he called my father. I didn’t want Jean here when he comes.” He glanced at the door and shook his head. “You should go.”
Aw, was someone trying to protect him from the big, bad Butcher? “I already had the displeasure of meeting the walking sperm-bank who fathered you,” Andrew said as he got up to fetch a change of clothes, tired of wearing his uniform; he figured one of Jean’s shirts and a pair of Nathaniel’s loose cotton pants should fit. Somewhat fit.
“Wait, you did? Are you really okay?” Nathaniel asked in a rush as he got up, too (and fetched the pants once he figured out what Andrew was looking for). “Is he still here?”
“Ichirou sent him on his way and told him to leave you alone.” Andrew took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change, but left the door open a crack so they could continue to talk. He’d ache for the next couple days, but it felt good to get his gear off at last.
“Ichirou’s here, too? Great.” It sounded as if Nathaniel slumped against the wall. “Is he angry? I mean, not that he yells or anything when he’s mad, but you can tell because of how he goes all tense and fake smiley.”
Good to know. “Not with you.” If anything, Ichirou thought a little too well of ‘Nat’, especially since he didn’t have a soulmate of his own anymore, but one thing at a time.
“Oh.” Andrew stepped back into the room to find Nathaniel nibbling on his bottom lip as he dwelled on something. “Why did he talk to you, then?”
“Because he wants me to do something for him.” There was no reason to keep it a secret, not when he’d need Nathaniel’s help (and probably Jean’s as well).
And maybe a certain stubborn idiot would back down to throwing himself into trouble if he knew that there was an endgame in sight.
(Who was he kidding?)
“And what is that?” Nathaniel reached out to tug on the overlarge t-shirt Andrew wore and pull him closer, seemingly unafraid of his presence. “What does he want?”
Andrew leaned his forearms against the wall, which penned his soulmate in; Nathaniel gazed at him without fear but a growing amount of impatience. “It seems that he doesn’t care for his baby brother and wants me to take him down,” he murmured after he leaned in, his mouth close to Nathaniel’s right ear.
“You
 Ichirou’s finally going to do something about Riko?” Nathaniel stared at him in disbelief. “And he wants you to help?”
Andrew clicked his tongue as he fought not to slide his fingers into his soulmate’s tousled hair. “He wants me to do all the fucking work, and he wants the psycho gone before he causes too many problems.” He’d keep quiet on the whole family drama for now, especially since Nathaniel had his own share of it.
“Oh.” Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip again, while Andrew struggled not to shiver in response, to lean in and suck on it to soothe the savaged flesh. “You
 you don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’ll help.”
Of course he would. “I agreed to do the deal.”
“And I owe Riko for years of- I owe him,” Nathaniel argued, his voice hoarse and eyes alight with anger.
“Fine,” Andrew relented after a few seconds. “But you listen to me and don’t do anything on your own.” Nathaniel nodded and, after a moment, once more reached for his abused mouth, his fingers a scant distance away as he traced along his split lower lip.
“Are you really okay? I know
 I know how my father can be.”
That was quite the understatement. “I’m fine,” Andrew insisted as he gave in and slid the fingers of his right hand into Nathaniel’s mussed curls. “What about you?”
The idiot shrugged and didn’t look away. “Tetsuji hit me a couple times but he was too busy dealing with Riko and willing to leave me to my father.” When his hand lingered near Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew caught it and rested it along the side of his neck; that time he shivered to feel his soulmate touch him.
“There and along my shoulder,” he said, his voice husky for some reason. “Yes or no?” he asked, unable to hold back when his soulmate looked at him like that, when he showed such concern, when he allowed him so close without fear. Unable to explain exactly what he meant.
Nathaniel blinked at the question, his pupils blown and reaction slow, and just when Andrew was about to pull away, used his hold on Andrew’s neck to gently pull him closer. “Yes,” he breathed out as his eyes drifted shut. “Yes.”
Later they would talk, would sit down and figure things out
 but right then, all Andrew wanted to do was have Nathaniel’s lithe body against his, to do some of his own nibbling on that full bottom lip, to feel a heartbeat that pulsed in time with his own between his lips as he sucked on his soulmate’s neck

His soulmate.
Nathaniel was addictive and almost docile in his arms, was mindful of his hands while he arched into Andrew’s touch like a cat which craved attention. He was
 he was perfect, and only the aches from being hit earlier convinced Andrew that he was real.
He wanted so much more than kisses and lingering touches, but there was Nathaniel choking back on a ‘please’, was him smoothing his thumb over the ‘3’ on a flushed cheekbone. He wanted, and it seemed that his soulmate wanted, too (was it truly real?), yet he pulled away before he did something to ruin the one truly good thing that Fate had seemed to grant him in his life.
(Which he would burn the world to ash to keep safe.)
“Ohhh
 wait, no,” Nathaniel breathed out as he grabbed the hem of Andrew’s borrowed shirt. “Why? Did I-“
Andrew flicked at a loose curl that fell onto his soulmate’s face. “That’s enough for now, sweetpea. Don’t want to overwhelm you with my sexiness.”
As expected, Nathaniel went from aroused to annoyed in less than two seconds. “Overwhelm me with your arrogance? Too late, hasenfĂŒrzchen.” When Andrew went to complain about his nickname, Nathaniel pushed forward and dragged him toward the bed – unfortunately, just to talk. “Now let’s figure out what to do while Jean’s not here.”
True, they’d have more time to talk about things between them on Friday, they might as well focus on getting rid of Riko as soon as possible. Part of Andrew chided him for being a fool in thinking that Nathaniel was such a ‘sure thing’, but each time his soulmate smiled at him and agreed to something long-term
.
Nathaniel did the impossible and made him believe.
(Nathaniel also agreed to hide the rest of the whiskey so he didn’t have to share it with Ben, which meant he had something else to look forward to on Friday.)
He forced himself to leave eventually, aware that Jean was worried about his partner and intent on doing something before the Ravens met up for dinner. Nathaniel’s burner phone in hand (oh yes, Ichirou needed to learn some boundaries in regard to others’ soulmates very soon), he went out on court for some necessary privacy and called one of the two numbers on it (the other was going to be deleted very soon).
A familiar voice answered, sounding a bit confused. “Nat? It’s not Sunday, is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine, but it’s not Nat,” Andrew told Kevin Day in French. “He did lend me this phone, though, if you hadn’t guessed.”
It was quiet on the end for several seconds. “Nat’s all right, yes? I mean, you’re his soulmate so-“
“Yes, he’s fine.” Andrew felt a bit insulted by the question. “Shut up with the stupid questions, I don’t have much time.”
“I- okay, what’s going on?”
Slightly better. “This is where you answer my questions and then listen as I tell you what’s going to happen if you want to remain free of the Moriyamas,” Andrew told him. “As well as pay back the friends who got you out of this hellhole.” Perhaps he was taking Ichirou a bit too literally with the whole ‘allow Nat more freedom’, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
(He’d kill the crime lord when he came to it, if necessary.)
All that mattered was that Kevin Day listened and obeyed, and played his part in Riko’s downfall.
(He wondered what it would take to get Nathaniel to go with him to Eden’s.)
*******
IDFK why it removes some of my italics. IDFK.
There you go, Ichirou dealing with Andrew instead of Neil/Nathaniel. I imagine it’s a lot of blank faces all around.
It hasn’t been a good migraine week and busy w/ work, so hopefully this isn’t too much gibberish.
Thanks so much, those of you who’ve stuck with this not-fic.
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aftgficrec · 5 years ago
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Hey đŸ‘‹đŸŒ First of all thanks for your hard work!! If you have the time, I’m looking for a fic that has a similar concept to”Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner” but without all the rape and noncon stuff... or something about Jean and his time in the nest or afterwards but also without rape. Would highly appreciate it! Thank you 😄
We appreciate your interest in stories about the Nest that don’t involve noncon or dubcon, they’re not always the easiest to find!  Below are four excellent fics, three about Raven!Neil and one about Jean’s recovery from his time in the Nest, all of which are free from those elements.  -F
Raven!Neil
Take to the Wing by IceEckos12 [Rated M, 68859 words, Complete 2020, AFTG Reverse Big Bang]
Neil is not able to hold out until the end of Winter Break, and signs himself over to Edgar Allan. Trapped in the Raven’s Nest, he fights for his right to exist.
The Foxes are devastated at the loss of another member of their family. Beset upon by enemies at all sides, including from within, they begin to fracture even further. But all is not yet lost. After all, that which fractures only becomes stronger when it heals.
(tw: drug use, tw: violence, tw: torture, tw: knives)
birds of prey by illinois_e [Rated T, 9388 words, Complete 2018]
nathaniel hides in the closet whenever his father is mentioned, drinks a bottle of gatorade per day and finds comfort in the walls that protect him as much as they keep him confined to the darkest rooms of his captors’ nest.
[or the one where nathaniel is a raven, always have been, always will be—even if he is still, somewhere inside, a fox too.]
(tw: violence, tw: abuse, tw: codependent relationships)
Give your tears (to the tide) by alaseux [Rated T; 8409 words; Incomplete]
They are nothing if not survivors, and so many have tried to carve the hearts from their chests that sometimes even breathing feels like a gift.
(in which Nathaniel and Jean are rescued from the Nest, and they heal as Foxes)
(tw: violence, tw: references to murder, tw: references to drug overdose) 
Jean after the Nest
philtatos by lydjah [Rated M, 20549 words, complete 2020]
Helping Jean Moreau heal is a game Jeremy Knox feels the stakes are too high to even consider the thought of losing. Jean’s first game as a Trojan against Edgar Allan feels like even higher stakes. Falling in love with Moreau - well, those are the highest stakes of all.
“You are his Achilles’ heel,” Laila whispers, in the dark, and her words bleed straight into the empty places in Jeremy’s heart.
(tw: references to past abuse, tw: drugs)
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emeraldwaves · 5 years ago
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Title: A Hint of Something Magical Pairing: Jerejean, Alvarez/Laila Rating: T Word Count: 4059 Ao3 Summary: Being with the Trojans is a very different experience for Jean. They're happy and friendly, everything Jean believes he's not. He soon learns that even someone as bright as Jeremy Knox has a deep, unexpected obsession. The first fic in a small jerejean series i’m working on about them at disneyland <3. Full fic under the cut
Standing in the middle of Main Street, U.S.A at Disneyland, Jean feels overwhelmed. There are too many people hitting against his shoulder, bumping into his side, and he tries not to panic. Kids dash in front of him, laughing, not paying attention. By the front store to the left, a baby starts wailing and Jean resists the urge to cover his ears.
The worst part is, he's here by mistake. Not that he casually stumbled into Disneyland, but he made the mistake of saying he had never been in front of Jeremy Knox.
And unbeknownst to Jean, rule #1 of being a Trojan is to never mention Disneyland in front of their captain.
Which, of course, happened earlier in the week.
"You know," Jeremy explains, "Indiana Jones. The ride at Disneyland. Bumpy, dark, a little thrilling, totally worth waiting in the line even when it breaks down. One of the best rides in the park."
Jean's not sure if this is a compliment or an insult. "Are you comparing my play style to a ride?" he asks.
"Uh, yeah," Jeremy smiles, so genuine, so real. Jean's still not used to his demeanor; his whole sunshine personality is overwhelming. "One of the best in the park! Or do you disagree?"
Okay, apparently it’s a compliment.
"Uhm," Jean shifts his weight and he catches eyes with Laila and Alvarez who immediately start swiping their hands in front of their throats. He's not sure what that means, but he looks back to Jeremy who's blue eyes are eagerly shimmering, waiting for his answer. "I have never been to Disneyland."
"I knew it," Laila says.
"Uh oh," Alvarez sighs.
"We're officially doomed," Laila mutters, leaning against Alvarez dramatically.
Jeremy's eye twitches and he shakes his head. "No," he laughs awkwardly. "What? You've been in California this long and you still... you mean even before this you've... never..."
Jean tilts his head, confused by what Jeremy is doing. It looks like this is impossible for him to process. He blinks a few times, staring incredulously at Jean.
"Jeremy.exe has stopped running," Alvarez snorts. "We tried to warn you, Moreau."
Ah, the hand signal must have been some sort of warning. He logs that away to remember for the future.
Jean glances at the girls, but it seems this situation is a lost cause. "I wasn't allowed to leave the Nest unless..." he trails off, not wanting to expand on that topic anymore than he has to. He has been avoiding discussing the Nest in depth. There are so few happy memories there, and the last thing he wants to do is bring down the Trojans with his unhappy stories. They deal with his outbursts and frustrations enough.
"Shit," Jeremy mutters. "You really haven't been." He looks like he's still in shock. Shaking his head, he slams the bottom of his stick against the court and Jean jumps back a little. "This is unacceptable," Jeremy says, and shoves his hand into the pocket of his shorts. He pulls out a little card, decorated with the faces of Mickey, Donald and Goofy. "This weekend, we're going to Disneyland."
"I knew it," Laila says, a soft sigh slipping from her lips.
"Do you really keep your annual pass in the pocket of your shorts?" Alvarez snorts, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah!" Jeremy smirks. "You gotta be prepared for impromptu Disney trips at all times."
Jean blinks, watching the scene unfold. So far Jeremy has been one of the most relaxed exy players he's ever come across. He's incredibly talented, focused, a light of positive energy on the court. He has this way of making Jean feel he can do anything, even when he's angry and trapped in his old habits. Jeremy makes him feel like someday he can break them.
But this...
This is the most intense Jean has seen Jeremy in a long while.
"It's okay-" Jean begins to say.
"NO!" Jeremy yells, immediately cutting him off. He leans in towards Jean, gripping the pass in his hands. "It's Trojan tradition to go before the official start of the season anyway. We'll buy you a pass, and you can experience the happiest place on earth!"
Jean doesn't like the sound of that. It seems like the opposite of everything he is. He swallows and glances at the card. "Aren't those expensive?"
"Jean, don't worry about it," he says, placing a hand on Jean's shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze, the most physical contact Jeremy ever has with Jean. He sees him hug the girls and many of their other players, he high fives them and pulls them into huddles, but he always leaves Jean alone, letting him have whatever space he might need. This is as close as he'll get to physical contact right now. "I think you deserve a little happiness."
Jeremy smiles, and Jean still doesn't know how to say no. When Jeremy gets all smiley and excited, Jean's not sure he wants to.
And that's how he ends up at Disneyland, surrounded by far too many people, trying not panic.
"Jean!" Jeremy waves, and rushes back to where Jean waits at the top of Main Street, Laila and Alvarez right behind him. "What are you doing?" he asks. He's got on red and gold Mickey ears, the USC colors adorning his head. Jean thinks he looks kind of foolish, but then again, the majority of the people are walking down the street with varying colors and styles of these strange ears.
"I... Je... Je... me sens dépassé," he whispers, switching to his mother tongue. He doesn't want to disappoint Jeremy, especially when he seemed so excited to take him here.
"Okay," Jeremy says, obviously not understanding "I was gonna wait, but I do have a surprise for you."
He flips his backpack around, unzipping it to pull out a matching pair of ears. Laila and Alvarez have the same ones, the Trojan colors. It must be some sort of team thing they do. The ears look stupid, but Jean doesn't want to complain.
"Tada!" Jeremy says, reaching upward to place them on his head. "I got these custom made for you, so you can match us. Official Trojan member," he smiles. "You have to wear them when we come to the park!"
Jean blinks, adjusting the awkward way the headband sits on his head. "Have to. I understand," he mutters. This must be another sort of Trojan rule. In many ways, the Trojans are the exact opposite of the Ravens, but he supposes they do have some things they do as part of their team rituals. He can't complain. As silly as the ears look, they're not painful to wear, and Jeremy seems excited about it. Jean can handle this.
"Yup!" Jeremy smiles and nods, until he stops suddenly. "Oh. Oh! No!" he gasps and lunges forward, yanking the ears off his head and throwing them in the opposite direction, the headband flying down Main Street.
"Not again," Laila sighs.
"I chased after the last pair he threw," Alvarez grumbles.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Laila says, jogging after the headband set.
Jean blinks, glancing from Jeremy's upset face to Laila jogging down through the crowd. He has many questions, unsure of what just happened, and why it, apparently, has happened before.
"Jean," Jeremy says, looking intently in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have done that. You don't have to do anything. Never. I promise. If you hate the ears you don't have to wear them."
Swallowing, Jean stares at Jeremy, still completely baffled. "...What?"
"I don't ever want you to feel like... you have to do something. We... I, will never ask you to do something you don't want. We are not the Ravens."
Jean doesn't know how to respond. No one has ever said anything like this to him before. The Ravens always looked through him, just as Riko instructed. He was their property. No one has ever looked at him like he's a person; with feelings and thoughts, opinions.
It's overwhelming.
Everything about this place is overwhelming, and yet something about the sincere way Jeremy is looking at him grounds him. 'You're not there anymore. You're here. Isn't this place perfect proof of your freedom?'
"I..." he starts to say, but Laila jogs up, gripping the headband in her hand.
She pants, rolling her eyes. "They made it all the way to the Starbucks."
"I think that's a new record," Alvarez mumbles.
"Here," she says, holding them out to Jeremy, but Jean leans forward and yanks them from her hand before Jeremy can grab them.
"Hey- Jean! I just said-"
He places the headband atop his head, the red and gold ears looking just as ridiculous as they do on everyone else. "I will wear them." He supposes he's starting to fit in.
Jeremy's cheeks flush, or maybe the sunlight hits his skin at just the right angle. He's a beacon for things like that, Jean's noticed. "O-Okay," he stammers. "But only if you want to."
Jean nods, and Jeremy stares at him, as if he's waiting for Jean to change his mind. When he doesn't move, Jeremy clears his throat and zips up his backpack, flinging it over his shoulder.
"Anyway, we're riding Indiana Jones first, because I need Jean to understand what I mean." Jeremy says, leading the group down Main Street.
Jean continues to follow them down the street. It's hard to believe this is a place people actually enjoy and find fun. Kids are wailing to their parents, the colors on the buildings are practically blinding underneath the California sun, loud music plays over the speakers and it’s so artificially happy.
Laila snorts, bringing Jean back to the group. "Yeah, because one ride on Indy is really going to give Jean the full scope of what you meant."
"What did you say anyway?" Alvarez asks.
"Bumpy, dark, a little thrilling, totally worth waiting in the line even when it breaks down," Jean repeats the words perfectly.
"Woah, you really took that to heart," Jeremy says, glancing back toward him.
Jean nods, and Jeremy twists his lips. He looks nervous and Jean wonders if maybe Jeremy thinks he's upset about the analogy. He's not. He just doesn't understand it, though knowing Jeremy, it's anything but offensive.
"I don't know if Jean will get the full experience if the ride doesn't break down," Laila says, forcing Jeremy's gaze away from Jean.
"Who are you kidding," Alvarez scoffs. "Indy breaks down once a day."
"True," Jeremy nods. "If we're lucky, we'll get stuck on the ride." He laughs loudly, far too excited about something that sounds bad. Maybe there are some things about the Trojans Jean will never understand.
"That's a good thing?" he asks tentatively. He can feel a story bubbling on the edge of Jeremy's lips, can sense it in the twinkle of his blue eyes.
"Oh yeah," Jeremy says. "If you get stuck on the ride, sometimes you get-" He pauses dramatically, looking toward both of the girls.
"Ride evac-ed..." The girls say in unison, rather flatly.
"Ride evac-ed!" Jeremy repeats with far more energy than the other two.
"Ride... E... vacked?" Jean says, trying to repeat the word back to them but it's next to impossible. He prays this isn't him being terrible at English.
"A glorious moment we all hope to achieve," Jeremy sighs.
"It's when the ride closes down and you get stuck on the track so they have to escort you out," Laila explains.
"And that's cool because sometimes you get to see backrooms of the ride you wouldn't normally see," Alvarez adds. Neither of them seem to be on the same level of excitement as Jeremy.
Then again, Jean has never seen anyone this excited about a theme park before. Actually, maybe he's never seen anyone this excited about anything. Riko's excitement was twisted and deranged. Jeremy's is pure, like the many children rushing around them.
"It happened once on Indy before," Jeremy says.
"But we got stuck right at the beginning so they just walked us back to where they load the ride," Laila sighs. "Jeremy's dreams, thwarted."
"Only partially!" Jeremy interjects, turning left under a wooden sign that reads Adventureland. "We were stuck there long enough for us to take selfies with Mara! It's on my Instagram!"
Jean has no idea what Jeremy's talking about, but he's obviously proud of this achievement.
The three continue to chat casually about the ride and other rides they've gotten stuck on. Jean is mostly confused by the fact that they've seemingly entered some sort of jungle. Some monkey noise echoes from a speaker and Jean jumps, glancing around.
"Different parts of the park have different themes," Alvarez explains, noting Jean's clear confusion. He's noticed Alvarez is talented at reading people, though she often seems standoffish at times. It makes him wary, like she could peer into his soul and know everything about the Ravens and Riko, just by looking at him. "This is Adventureland. There's Frontierland, Fantasyland, and Tomorrowland. Then there are other sections like The French Quarter," she pauses and blinks, "like, uh, New Orleans, not actual France," she says, gesturing to him.
"Ah," he mutters. It would've been interesting to see what their take on France would be.
"Yeah, if you want actual France you gotta go to Florida," Laila interrupts. She turns around and links her arm with Alvarez, the two now walking side by side.
"I thought if you wanted actual France you would just... go to France," Jean says.
Laila nods. "Yeah, but I mean if you want Disney France-"
"Disneyland Paris?!" Jeremy suggests.
"I prefer regular France," Jean states.
"Well, yeah I'm sure France is... amazing. I wanna go someday!"
Jean swallows the words he was about to say. 'I'll take you.' He doubts Jeremy would want to go to France with him.
"I gotta stop at Disneyland Paris," Jeremy sighs and suddenly halts, looking up at a sign. "Hey! A 45 minute wait. Not bad."
Jean blinks. They're about to be in this line for 45 minutes and that's 'not bad.'
He really does not understand Disneyland.
"Hell yes," Alvarez smirks. Her and Jeremy high five, making their way into the long, winding line.
"Oh, Jean, you should know, it is Jeremy's dream to go to all the Disney parks around the world," Laila explains. "You should keep that in mind."
"Keep that in mind?" he asks, stopping before he enters the line with her. "Why?"
"Y-Y'know," she says, shrugging. She doesn't stop to let Jean answer either. She dashes off, Jean following behind to not get separated from the group.
He wants to ask where the other parks are, but decides to just look it up later. He knows if he asks, it'll become a long and involved thing.
It seems he's found Jeremy Knox's crazy and it's Disneyland.
The line shockingly doesn't take as long as Jean expects. Once they get to the indoor part of the queue, Laila yanks on a rubber pole, making the room flash with light. Jean jumps, but Alvarez jumps more, punching her girlfriend in the arm. The two of them laugh, and Laila leans in for a kiss, but Alvarez pushes her face away. Jeremy's laughing with them, in on the joke despite being the third wheel.
There's something... enjoyable... about listening to Jeremy, Laila and Alvarez chat. They're friends. They enjoy spending time with each other, and it's not forced. No one says they have to do this. They're choosing to 'hang out', all of their own volition.
It makes Jean tense. There's no way he will ever be able to live like this.
"Hey," Jeremy says, interrupting his thoughts. "You okay?" He walks up a set of stairs backward, the line splitting off into two. "I know you've never been to a theme park, but I promise the rides here aren't that bad. I mean, kids like 'em."
Jeremy babbles a little when he's nervous, Jean's noticed. Usually when he thinks he's upset Jean, or is doing something wrong. He rarely is, but somehow he cares enough to get nervous about it.
The ride hasn't really crossed Jean's mind. He assumes it'll be over faster than he can blink, and he assumes he'll wonder why he waited 45 minutes for 10 seconds of minor thrills.
"I'm fine," he says. "You do not need to worry about me."
"Again, I just... don't want you to feel like you're being forced to be here," he says.
"I don't," Jean nods.
Jeremy smiles, clearly happy again, Jean's words erasing his worries. "Okay, you can be honest with me though. Just, uh, want you to know that."
"I will be," Jean says. Whether or not he can actually speak up is a whole different story. But they came here to ride some of the rides and that's what they'll do.
They get loaded into the back row of the large car and Jean pulls the seat belt over his lap. He's in the middle, between Jeremy and Alvarez. Laila has to sit on a certain side of the car because she "hates the snake part."
"Oh!" Jeremy says, and he reaches up to pull the ears off of Jean's head. His fingers touch the tips of Jean's ears and he sucks in a breath rapidly, not expecting the touch. It's always so gentle, but still Jean flinches. "Here." Jeremy places the ears into the backpack in the small pocket in front of him. "I'll hold onto these."
For some odd reason, Jean's heart is throbbing in his ears. It must be the anticipation of the ride.
The ride is, more or less, exactly as Jeremy described. It's bumpy, for sure. Dark. And just a little thrilling. The car whips them around and Jean grips the bar in front of him, worried he'll be flung from the car. The snakes part isn't even that scary, so he doesn't get why Laila was so freaked out. Most of the ride is a little cheesy, fake flames, skulls, and bugs. However, Jean screams at the end, ducking his head when it looks like the boulder is about to roll toward them.
"You thought we were gonna get hit," Jeremy teases, stepping off of the ride.
"No-"
"You did, Moreau," Alvarez says. "You held your head and ducked."
"And screamed," Laila adds, a devilish smirk appears on her lips.
Jean pouts, glancing away from the group. He folds his arms over his chest.
"Don't worry," Laila laughs. "I thought the same thing the first time I rode it."
"Yes, but you were also scared of the snakes," Jean points out.
It's Laila's turn to pout and she lets out a sigh. "Betrayed. And here I was helping you look better."
The group starts the long trek back up on the exit pathway and Jeremy runs ahead with Laila, the two of them racing up the slight incline after complaining about how it's the longest exit path of any ride in the park.
Alvarez walks back with Jean and he notes how her gaze doesn't leave Laila, her dark eyes glistening with joy. She doesn't seem as outwardly emotional as Laila, but the two of them balance each other well.
Suddenly, she glances toward Jean. "You know, this is Jeremy's happy place."
"Isn't it called 'the happiest place on Earth'?" Jean snorts, watching as the sunlight pours in from the spaces on the partially covered walkway. Jeremy is jogging, just barely ahead of Laila, and his blond hair brushes against his forehead. It looks like his cheeks are glittering, and his smile is somehow outshining the California sun. He looks like a walking commercial for this place.
"Well, yeah, but especially for Jeremy. I think it would make him so happy if you really enjoyed it with him," Alvarez says, her gaze turned back towards her teammates. "I know you don't wanna talk about it. None of us are gonna ask, but we're here for you. We want you to have a good time here in California. Jeremy especially."
Especially? There are many questions burning on his tongue, but Jean doesn't want to speak. He doesn't want to ruin this sliver of happiness by bringing up any old memories.
"Yeah," he mutters.
"You don't have to say anything. Just have fun," she winks, and starts to run with the others.
Jean doesn't feel like running, but he does it anyway, meeting the group at the exit to the ride.
They stand, chatting away, laughing and Jean freezes. He almost doesn't want to approach them, scared he's going to barge in on something that doesn't involve him. The Trojans feel like this foreign entity, unfamiliar, uncharted water. They are people, so normal, so calm, and he is... him.
He doesn't really know how to be a person.
Jeremy turns and waves at him. "Jean!" he calls out, urging him forward. Jeremy wants him there, doesn't want to leave Jean behind. As much as Jean fights against it, or doesn't understand it, Jeremy makes him a person.
"Doesn't that hill suck?" Jeremy asks, and the question is so simple, yet genuine.
Jean honestly didn't even notice the walk back up, but he nods anyway. "Yeah," he says, the hint of a chuckle in his breath.
"Let's ride Pirates!" Laila cheers, thrusting her hands into the air. She grabs Alvarez's hand and starts pulling her towards the pathway.
"Hell yes!" Jeremy says, but freezes for a minute. "Hey..." He purses his lips, as though he's stopping himself from blurting out a barrage of thoughts. "Uh, hopefully now that you've ridden it you see what I mean?"
Jean blinks. Right. The whole reason they went on this ride in the first place was because Jeremy compared his exy playing style to this very ride.
"I really did mean it as a compliment, so if you hated the ride then I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Jeremy," Jean says. It's rare he says Jeremy's name out loud, but when he does, it feels really smooth on his tongue, like it was meant to roll off it without any problems. "I get it."
"You do?" Jeremy asks, perking up like an adorable puppy.
"Yeah... I know I've been difficult-"
"No!" Jeremy says, quickly interrupting him. "I-I mean... look I just... I know it's not gonna be smooth sailing right away. I don't expect it to be, but that's part of the ride. It makes things interesting and fun, and Jean I just... I really want you to know I think you're worth it," he says.
Jean's cheeks feel like they're burning. No one has ever said he was worth anything, not in this way. He was property before, but Jeremy means it differently. His voice is gentle, his expression tender. Jean has no idea what to say.
Maybe Jeremy understands that, or maybe he's not looking for a response. Either way, he digs into his backpack and pulls out the red and gold ears. "Here, these are yours," Jeremy smiles.
Reaching out, Jean takes the ears back from Jeremy, their fingers brushing together for a moment. Jeremy's hand is so warm and Jean wishes he had the courage to lace their fingers together, squeeze Jeremy's hand so tight, and thank him as genuinely as he can.
 'Thank you for looking at me.'
 'Thank you for not giving up on me.'
Instead, Jean grips the ears in his hand, holding them tightly. "I'm glad I didn't lose them."
"Yeah," Jeremy laughs, smiling the widest he has all day, if that's even possible. "I'm glad you didn't either." He stares at him again, his blue eyes taking all of Jean in. Normally someone's gaze would make Jean cringe and curl in on himself, but Jeremy pulls him in with a warmth and a comfort Jean wants to cling to.
"Let's catch up with the girls," Jeremy says, gesturing towards the path they ran off on.
Jean nods and slowly lifts the ears onto his head, following after Jeremy.
He's not sure if he's a Trojan yet. Maybe he won't ever be one fully. But if Jeremy keeps offering him his hand, Jean is going to keep reaching for it. Jean likes to think that's a step in the right direction.
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foxsoulcourt · 5 years ago
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Chapters: 22/22 Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau Characters: Jean Moreau, Jeremy Knox, Renee Walker (All For The Game), Laila Dermott, Alvarez (All For The Game), The Trojans (All For The Game), Kevin Day, cameos from various other Foxes, Abby Winfield, David Wymack Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Mentions of past abuse and violence, Eventual Fluff, um yeah i honestly have no idea how to tag on this website but, just expect mentions of canon-typical abuse and violence and stuff, but nothing too graphic, if u can handle the extra content and the books themselves u can handle this fic, everybody hates riko moriyama Summary:
"He just won't be back in black."
  A look at Jean's first year with the Trojans, and his slightly rocky path to recovery.
Bookmarker's Notes:
I LOVE Andreil + will gladly read many, many variations of their otp story. And yet, there is something about Jean Moreau finding his true love in Jeremy Knox that will always move me in a different, yet equally profound ways. I love this version of their story. Partly because Prem / @trojean  finds unique voices for each of the main characters. Sometimes I felt less like I was reading a fanfic story + more like I was reading how two irl humans turned towards one another and began a life with each other. You, reader, have two options: read this version as it is now OR look forward to the rewritten version coming soon-ish. I recommend both! Why deny yourself that pleasure?!
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dllcs · 6 years ago
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( ur welcome in advance for the gif ) SUP BINCHES. it’s ya girl, lenny, back with another intro. this time for my southern gentleman, dallas ! ngl, i’m recycling my old one but made a couplE changes. so give this a like if u wanna plot !
( dacre montgomery ‱ twenty four ‱ cismale ) look, it’s dallas delaney from apartment 6C ! i heard that he is here in los angeles because he wants to open his own auto body shop. they moved into moreau apartments 2 months ago and rumour has it, they can be quite possessive and truculent — good thing they’re also passionate and charming, hey ? i hear they’re the contingent of the building.
born n raised nashville boy so u better believe he’s got the accent and charm to match. he’s my southern gentleman raised by a single mama with two younger siblings so he had to grow up real fast
his father passed when dallas was young ( maybe like 9 so he kinda remembers him ) and dallas became the man of the house when he was a lil one, taking on the responsibility of taking care of his little sisters when he was finally old enough for his mom to get a job
they never really struggled though so this ain’t a sad story, dw. they had enough money to survive, his mom found a teaching job that she loved, and dallas really enjoyed helping around the house and taking care of his mom and sisters – it honestly just felt like second nature to him
dallas’ father was a mechanic and had a love for cars that almost rivalled his love for his wife so dallas found his passion for the work easily, finding a connection to his father whenever he opens a car hood or changes a tire
old school cars are his thing, he started buying them for cheap and fixing them up when he was 16 and got his first job at the movie theatre and began making hella money with it. he saved it all though, he ain’t a wild child, cause his father had a dream to open his own mechanic shop that dallas was determined to fulfill
however, dallas’ passion for cars is rivalled by his other love: music. his little sisters took piano lessons and he helped them practice, in turn mastering the craft on his own, and then he picked up guitar later on and fell in love and became obsessed with learning every in and out of the art, from playing to songwriting. he never really had a dream to go big but as he got better and more open with his music, it was hard to ignore the voices of his friends and family saying that he could really do it
so he’s a bit torn at the moment, between pursuing his father’s dream or creating his own
he made the move to la about 2 months back, once his youngest sister started her senior year of high school and he felt comfortable leaving his family ( not that he wanted too lmao he just knew they’d be okay )
came here because he found several empty body shops around la and has been eyeing them – but he’s not ballsy enough to buy them yet, despite having the money, because he still can’t get himself to dedicate his whole heart to one thing
he’s the definition of southern gentleman and you can definitely tell from first sight. as if the accent isn’t enough, his style has often been labelled “hipster cowboy.” he loves his button ups and jeans, sometimes wears cowboy boots but has adopted more .. casual boots since his move to la.
personality wise: he’s charming, a bit quiet and reserved at first but once he’s comfortable with you he’s outgoing and loves to have fun
his label is the contingent because he’s quite ... reliant on the company of others. he’s lonely easily ( especially since his move away from his family ) and probably too loyal for his own good in order to keep his friends by his side.
got a bit of a temper that usually only shines through when he’s drunk or stressed but he can be easily pissed off ( especially if you fuck with someone he loves )
he’s a true romantic and really doesn’t fuck around much but that’s not to say accidental one night stands / hookups arent off the table .... ;)
OH PS HIS VC IS SAM HUNT OK 
as for connections, i’d love some past connections with people from his hometown. perhaps a music buddy. someone he fixes a lot of things for lmao ( he’s not just handy with a guitar and a car ok ayyy lol ) perhaps a little fling/flirtationship, a past one night stand. i love me some bros, a little sister ( he’s forever the protective old brother omg ) and some ride or dies. someone who brings out his wild side and drags him out cause he can be a bit of a hermit sometimes uH IDUNNO I WANT IT ALL OK
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billy-on-a-walk · 7 years ago
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Julie d'Aubigny
better known as Mademoiselle Maupin or La Maupin, was a 17th-century swordswoman and opera singer. Her tumultuous career and flamboyant life were the subject of gossip and colourful stories in her own time, and inspired numerous portrayals afterwards.
Julie d'Aubigny was born in 1673 to Gaston d'Aubigny, a secretary to Louis de Lorraine-Guise, comte d'Armagnac, the Master of the Horse for King Louis XIV. Her father trained the court pages, and so his daughter learned dancing, reading, drawing, and fencing alongside the pages, and dressed as a boy from an early age. In 1687, the Count d'Armagnac took her for his "mistress" when she was barely fourteen years old. He then had her married to Sieur de Maupin of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, and she became Madame de Maupin (or simply "La Maupin" per French custom). Soon after the wedding, her husband received an administrative position in the south of France, but the Count kept her in Paris.
Also around 1687, La Maupin became involved with an assistant fencing master named SĂ©rannes. When Lieutenant-General of Police Gabriel Nicolas de la Reynie tried to apprehend SĂ©rannes for killing a man in an illegal duel, the pair fled the city to Marseille.
On the road south, La Maupin and SĂ©rannes made a living by giving fencing exhibitions and singing in taverns and at local fairs. While travelling and performing in these impromptu shows, La Maupin dressed in male clothing but did not conceal her gender. On arrival in Marseille, she joined the opera company run by Pierre Gaultier, singing under her maiden name.
Eventually, she grew bored of SĂ©rannes and became involved with a young woman. When the girl's parents put her away in the Visitandines convent in Avignon, La Maupin followed, entering the convent as a postulant. In order to run away with her new love, she stole the body of a dead nun, placed it in the bed of her lover, and set the room on fire to cover their escape. Their affair lasted for three months before the young woman returned to her family. La Maupin was charged in absentia—as a male—with kidnapping, body snatching, arson, and failing to appear before the tribunal. The sentence was death by fire.
La Maupin left for Paris and again earned her living by singing. Near Poitiers, she met an old actor named Maréchal who began to teach her until his alcoholism got worse and he sent her on her way to Paris.
In Villeperdue, still wearing men's clothing, she was insulted by a young nobleman. They fought a duel and she drove her blade through his shoulder. The next day, she asked about his health and found out he was Louis-Joseph d'Albert Luynes, son of the Duke of Luynes. Later, one of his companions came to offer d'Albert's apologies. She went to his room and subsequently they became lovers and, later, lifelong friends.
After Count d'Albert recovered and had to return to his military unit, La Maupin continued to Rouen. There she met Gabriel-Vincent Thévenard, another singer, and began a new affair with him. They continued together towards Paris in the hope of joining the Paris Opéra. In the Marais, she contacted Count d'Armagnac for help against the sentence hanging over her. He persuaded the king to grant her a pardon and allow her to sing with the Opéra.
The Paris Opéra hired La Maupin in 1690, having initially refused her. She befriended an elderly singer, Bouvard, and he and Thévenard convinced Jean-Nicolas de Francine, master of the king's household, to accept her into the company. She debuted as Pallas Athena in Cadmus et Hermione by Jean-Baptiste Lully the same year. She performed regularly with the Opéra, first singing as a soprano, and later in her more natural contralto range. The Marquis de Dangeauwrote in his journal of a performance by La Maupin given at Trianon of Destouches' Omphale in 1701 that hers was "the most beautiful voice in the world".
In Paris, and later in Brussels, she performed under the name Mademoiselle de Maupin because singers were addressed as "mademoiselle" whether or not they were married.
Due to Mademoiselle de Maupin's beautiful voice, her acting skill, and her androgynous appearance, she became quite popular with the audience, although her relationship with her fellow actors and actresses was sometimes tempestuous. She famously beat the singer Louis Gaulard Dumesny after he pestered the women members of the troupe, and a legendary duel of wits with Thévenard was the talk of Paris. She also fell in love with Fanchon Moreau, another singer who was the mistress of the Grand Dauphin, and tried to commit suicide when she was rejected.
Her Paris career was interrupted around 1695, when she kissed a young woman at a society ball and was challenged to duels by three different noblemen. She beat them all, but fell afoul of the king's law that forbade duels in Paris. She fled to Brussels to wait for calmer times. There, she was briefly the mistress of Maximilian II Emanuel, Elector of Bavaria.
While in Brussels, Mademoiselle de Maupin appeared at the Opéra du Quai au Foin from November 1697 to July 1698, after which she returned to the Paris Opéra to replace the retiring Marie Le Rochois. She and her friend d'Albert were both in trouble with the law over the years: he for yet another fatal duel, and she for beating up her landlord.
Until 1705, La Maupin sang in new operas by Pascal Collasse, André Cardinal Destouches, and André Campra. In 1702, André Campra composed the role of Clorinde in TancrÚde specifically for her bas-dessus (contralto) range. She sang for the court at Versailles on a number of occasions, and again performed in many of the Opéra's major productions. She appeared for the last time in La Vénitienne by Michel de La Barre (1705).
These final years of her career were spent in a relationship with the Madame la Marquise de Florensac, upon whose death La Maupin was inconsolable. She retired from the opera in 1705 and took refuge in a convent, probably in Provence, where she died in 1707 at the age of only 33. She has no known grave.
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foxsoulcourt · 4 years ago
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Thx for the tag dear, dear @kiirynilcc ! Hmmm, let’s see what today’s answers are...
Fave shipS: I regularly bounce between the anguish resident in Neil Josten + Andrew Minyard’s relationship to a different type of anguish w/room for more ease + joy in Jean Moreau + Jeremy Knox’s to the pure delight of Aaron Minyard + Kevin Day finding an unexpected partner in one another. I LOVE the sass + sexy times several people have written about when Allison Reynolds + Kevin Day realise they have a lot in common + really like each other. If I want to s e e vs read, then the 2 SKAM pairings I adore are Robbe Ijzermans + Sander Driesen and Lucas Lallemont + Eliott Demaury. 
Fave songS: Rock Steady by Aretha Franklin + Fire by Jimi Hendrix are consistent fave songs through many different life chapters. (this cover of the latter by Bruno Mars is fun!). There are so many fantastic playlists + songs which inspire/accompany fics; 2 of my faves are Screaming Trees’ song Nearly Lost You connected to @fuzzballsheltiepants‘ Calling Me Back Once Again. (Gah, when I hear the first part of that song I tear up feeling the whole story all.at.once.) and @m-ercey‘s playlist Dinah Hatford, partner for Mack the Knife. (If you’re not reading that one yet, get to it!) For some reason I can’t name, two songs have captured my attention again: Cole’s Memories by Pyramid from the movie We Are your Friends and 3 Mustapha 3â€Čs Medley: Buke E Kripe Ne/Vater Tone/Kalaxhojne.
(Current) Fave movieS: well, ofc The Old Guard. Also STILL THINKING ABOUT Hustlers, Molly’s Game, Parasite +  Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn).
Currently watching: combination of Get Educated NOW choices (13th, Just Mercy, Knock Down The House, When They See Us, Selma, If Beale Street Could Talk + Christiane Amanpour) + Latif Nasser on Connected. Looking forward to s03 Sex Education, s04 The Marvelous Mrs Maisel + s02 Never Have I Ever.
Currently reading: a helluva lot of the M A N Y fantastic AFTG fics, that’s for sure! Still reading Ijeoma Oluo’s So you want to talk about race; Layla F. Saad’s me and white supremacy is on deck. I’d like to read Six of Crows + not sure why I’ve found it challenging to do so. (prolly cuz I read Serious Stuff or fics + little in between)
Currently craving: practical + resilient hope to keep me steadfast, joyous + full of vitality during these pandemic days leading up to when VP Joe Biden is elected.
Who wants to play? @pomponia @notetoself-thisisserious @m-ercey @stripycardigans
Oh look, a tagging game ^.^
Hellooooo <3 never done one of these before so why not? ^^ I was tagged by @thegreenerartist​​
Favorite ship: Oof. My current obsession is Andreil, ngl. *looks at the 150,000+ words on ao3 written in dedication to them* *coughs* Yeah, we’ll call them my favorite.
Favorite song: 
Current song on repeat: I legit could never pick a favorite song. However, I do tend to listen to the same song for hours on repeat, especially as I write. ^.^ Right now it’s this one ~
Favorite movie: Probably Howl’s Moving Castle. I could watch that movie on repeat no matter what mood I’m in and be happy about it.
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Currently watching: The Great British Baking Show. Again. Similar to listening to one song on repeat while I write, I will also put cooking shows on and just rewatch 7 seasons over and over and over again. 
Currently reading:
The Star Host by F. T. Lukens
The Extraordinaries by TJ Klune
Currently craving: An uninterrupted night’s sleep.
Tagging: @youreyestheyglow​​ @of-stars-and-moon​​ @criswisstuff​​ @hi-raethia​​ @djhedy​​ @foxsoulcourt​​ @tntwme​​
No pressure to actually do it if these little games aren’t your thing ^.^ Similarly, if I didn’t tag you but you feel like sharing anyway, go for it :)
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kiamaartgallery · 8 years ago
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Jeanne Jacquemin, c 1893
Jeanne Jacquemin (Marie-Jeanne Coffineau)  was born in Paris in 1863 to Marie EmĂ©lie Boyer and was adopted by Lord Juliette Boyer and Louise Coffineau in 1874. However, details of her upbringing are sketchy and conflicting, and it isn’t known what formal training she may have had in drawing, painting or print making.
In 1881 she married a naturalist illustrator (who was also an alcoholic), Edouard Jacquemin.  After they separated Jeanne lived with engraver Auguste-Marie Lauzet in Sévres on the outskirts of Paris, from about 1893. Through both Jacquemin and Lauzet she met a number of artists (including Puvis de Chavannes) and poets and developed an interest in Symbolism and the occult.
She first became known as a writer, when from June 1890 onwards she wrote commentaries on a number of writers and painters of the time for Art et Critique – she was particularly interested in Symbolist and Decadent literature. Many of the themes and images that she referenced in her writing appeared later in her own pastels.  (Approximately 40 of the works that she exhibited during her lifetime were pastels, and unfortunately few remain.)
Like many other Symbolists, Jacquemin saw a close correlation between literature, music and the visual arts. She responded to the poetic and mystic delights of the texts in her commentaries, saying that “her ear keeps the music of poems long after the reading“. She also wrote that “I see images [from the poems] mount before my eyes” and that she wanted to “try to fix some of her visions“.
From 1892,  with other Symbolists and Post Impressionists, she participated in a series of Peintres Impressionnistes et Symbolistes exhibitions, which were held between 1891 and 1897.
The catalogues of these exhibitions show that Jacquemin was both well represented and well received by some of the most significant critics of the time. RĂ©my de Gourmont from the Mercure de France wrote that her “overall effect produces something that is full of the new” with traces of “dreaminess” in blue-green luminosities” and impressions of “androgynous figures left to float like the unhealthy, yet adorable haze of desire around those heads so infinitely tired of living“.
Gourmet compares the dreaminess in her work to fellow Symbolists Gustave Moreau and Odilon Redon, and her work is similar in style to  Puvis de Chavannes. There is also an echo of Paul Gauguin in some of her works.
Jeanne Jacquemin, Daydream (Reverie), 1894
Jeanne Jacquemin, La Douloureuse et glorieuse couronne, 1892
Most of her paintings can be easily identified by the sad figures – usually waif-like or gaunt women in anguished or dreamlike states – which appear to haunt her paintings. She mostly used subdued tones in her pastels which adds to their subtlety .
Daydream (or Reverie), above left,  appears to be typical of her work, with a solitary, somewhat melancholic or pensive, figure set in front of a landscape. Blues and purples feature in the background, as do the  strawberry blonde hair and blue-green eyes, which are thought to be similar to the artist’s own features. Does the use of the garland of flowers suggest a Christ like quality? It was not unusual for her male Symbolist counterparts to explore the theme of the self as Christ, and Jacquemin may have also chosen to do so. The second image above ( La Douloureuse et Glorieuse Couronne) is certainly suggestive of this motif, with the crown of thorns and eyes raised to the heavens.
Puvis De Chavannes St. Genevieve Bringing Supplies to the City of Paris after the Siege
Jeanne Jacquemin, Le Coeur de l’eau, 1892
Odilon Redon, Christ on the Cross, 1897
Gustave Moreau, Venice
Paul Gauguin, Te aa no areois (The Seed of the Areoi), 1892
  One critic, writer and poet Jean Lorrain, was particularly taken by Jacquemin’s art, that he felt might be used to mirror his own interests, which also included the occult. As a result, they collaborated on a short story, Conte de Noel. Written by Lorrain and accompanied by five lithographs by Jacquemin, it was published in 1894. Lorrain’s support for her during the 1890s may assisted in her public recognition. For example, in 1893, she was invited to represent France in the tenth Les XX exhibition in Brussels, where she showed five works. Unfortunately, the close relationship between the two deteriorated and her reputation suffered as a result.
As well as her paintings, Jacquemin also produced a number of charcoal drawings and prints (lithographs) which were not as widely exhibited.
Jeanne Jacquemin, Saint Georges, 1898
Perhaps the best known is a colour lithograph, Saint Georges, c 1898, which appeared in L’Estampe Modern that year. The description of print in the magazine read,
“This print represents the young and valiant knight of Cappadocia, sweet as a virgin but strong as a lion, who is described in the Golden Legend as fighting and killing the dragon who was preparing to devour the daughter of the King of Libya. Thus, this heroic character inspired the traditions of many peoples, and since the time of the Crusades he has been known as the patron saint of the armies”.
Jeanne Jacquemin, Marjolaine de la purete, c1893, lithograph with chine colle
Jeanne Jacquemin, Cup of Delight,(Coupe de suavité), 1894
Jean Jacquemin, Sketch, c1893
Jeanne Jacquemin, Another nightmare also tormented her, 1894, lithograph
Jeanne Jacquemin, She would wander, full of uneasiness, 1894, lithograph
Jeanne Jacquemin, And the Queen ended up being afraid.., 1894, lithograph.
Jeanne Jacquemin, It was this princess of the swamps.., 1894, lithograph.
  It has been said that many of her works are self portraits, and there is certainly a similarity in the facial structure in a several of the paintings and prints shown on this page. Even the Saint Georges lithograph appears, if not female, at least androgynous.
Not a great deal is known about Jeanne Jacquemin or her work from the late 1890’s onwards. After nursing Lauzet until his death in 1898, she married Lucien Pautrier, and perhaps she chose to no longer exhibit, or it may have been the acrimony between herself and Lorrain (including a very public law suit) and the death of Lauzet which resulted in her being hospitalised for a short time that led to her being less interested in art. She divorced Pautrier in 1921, and married occultist Paul SĂ©dir later in the same year, suggesting that she maintained her interest in the occult throughout her life time.
Jacquemin is thought to have died in 1938.
Primary Source: Jeanne Jacquemin: A French Symbolist, Leslie Stewart Curtis, Woman’s Art Journal, Vol. 21, No. 2 (Autumn, 2000 – Winter, 2001), pp. 1+27-35
 This blog is just a short excerpt from my art history e-course, Introduction to Modern European Art  which is designed for adult learners and students of art history.
This interactive program covers the period from Romanticism right through to Abstract Art, with sections on the Bauhaus and School of Paris,  key Paris exhibitions, both favourite and less well known artists and their work, and information about colour theory and key art terms. Lots of interesting stories, videos and opportunities to undertake exercises throughout the program.
If you’d like to see some of the  Australian artwork you’ll find in my gallery, scroll down to the bottom of the page. You’ll also find many French works on paper and beautiful fashion plates from the early 1900s by visiting the gallery.
          Jeanne Jacquemin – Symbolist artist and writer Jeanne Jacquemin, c 1893 Jeanne Jacquemin (Marie-Jeanne Coffineau)  was born in Paris in 1863 to Marie EmĂ©lie Boyer and was adopted by Lord Juliette Boyer and Louise Coffineau in 1874.
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nekojitachan · 5 years ago
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Hmm. So... the last week or two (two?) have been... interesting. Work go kablewy (that a word?) because of... things... (nothing bad for me, just... things... life is strange), head has been very owwiie, and have had some not very good days, to be honest.
But getting a lot of writing done! Including this - another part of the Raven!Andrew soulmate story that doesn’t exist.
Uhm, past sexual abuse is referenced, Nathaniel/Neil’s past is vaguely referenced/hinted at, Andrew’s past is vaguely referenced. Think that’s it for the warnings. Oh, and Andrew’s violent thoughts.
I should come up with a title for this at some point.
Oh, and rest of the story can be found here.
*******
Andrew stared at the visage on his laptop’s screen; the smile on Nathan Wesninski’s face was slightly smug as if he knew a secret that he wasn’t willing to share, his glacier blue eyes devoid of emotion. According to various internet searches, Nathan was a self-made man who owned several businesses in and around Baltimore, who gave regularly to charity, and had a wife and a son.
He also had persistent rumors of being connected to some unsavory individuals, but nothing that could be substantiated. Most people put it down to simple jealously – Wesninski was a man who’d built his own fortune, married his soulmate and had a talented son. People loved to find something wrong with a man so ‘blessed’.
Except he was somehow tied to the Moriyamas, whom Andrew was slowly learning weren’t entirely on the up and up, his lovely soulmate had a dead look in her eyes which Andrew knew all too well, and his son bore multiple scars, had a strong distrust of soulmates and was being treated as chattel.
‘Blessed’ wasn’t the first word which came to Andrew’s mind when he thought of Nathan Wesninski.
He closed the browser and forced himself to work on his class assignments; university wasn’t much of a challenge, but one of Tetsuji’s assistants checked to make sure he (and the rest of the Ravens) turned in their work and that they weren’t failing any classes.
There was almost half an hour of ‘study time’ left when he finished with assignments for the day (for the rest of the week, actually); he got up from his desk, which made Ben look at him. “You done already?” his partner asked, tone a bit envious.
Andrew nodded as he headed toward the door; Ben appeared surprised that he’d received some sort of answer and turned back to his statistics book with a slight smile.
There weren’t many people wandering about the Nest at that time since the players usually took advantage of any break they were given, so Andrew wasn’t surprised to not run into anyone along the way to the Black Hall nor to find Riko and Kevin all snug in their room. Kevin opened the door when he banged on it, expression confused when he saw Andrew smiling out in the hallway.
“Uhm, is everything all right?”
“I came to chat,” Andrew said as he shoved his way inside. “Not with you, #2.” He ignored Kevin calling him an asshole and strode toward Riko, who was reading an economics textbook. “With the man who can make things happen.” Or so the prick liked to think.
“Hmm, now that sounds interesting,” Riko drawled as he set the book aside and sat up straight. “What does white trash like you want? An early taste of Nathaniel?” He tsk’ed while waving his right index finger about as if chastising a naughty child. “Not until you live up to your end of the bargain on Friday.”
Andrew had to focus on Aaron, on keeping his brother safe, to prevent himself from bashing the bastard’s head in with the book on the bed. “It’s about the game on Friday,” he said as his grin widened, as he thought about using his racquet to eviscerate Riko and a good bit of his own team. “I want you to turn a blind eye to something for me during it.”
It was Riko’s turn to appear confused as he studied Andrew. “What? The refs can’t ignore you pulling something stupid out on court.”
“Not them.” Andrew reached into the right pocket of his track pants to pull out the bottle of his detested pills. “I’m going to play unmedicated,” he said as he gave the bottle a shake.
“That doesn’t sound like a good-“
“Why?” Riko asked as he cut off Kevin’s protest, his gaze intent on Andrew.
Andrew’s lips twitched even wider as he rattled the bottle some more. “Because it’ll make me play better, make me fight harder to win.” Because he wanted a few hours where he could feel his own emotions without the manic taint of the damn drugs, could be free of them, even if it was on an Exy court.
An Exy court with his soulmate nearby.
Riko studied him for a few seconds then grinned. “I’ll be disappointed if Rutgers scores a single point in the second half on Friday,” he said before he laid back down on his bed.
And Andrew would be disappointed if the prick didn’t get his throat crushed by a racquet to the neck during the game, but one couldn’t have everything, could they?
Taking that as a sign of both approval and dismissal, Andrew turned around to leave without saying another word. While he was in the Black Hall, he stopped by the break room there and snagged the good granola bars (chocolate chips) and a few energy drinks.
Moreau was back to full practice that day, but Andrew didn’t get a chance to talk to him; the backliner was never far from Nathaniel’s side, lately. Andrew suspected that last Friday night had something to do with it, especially when he was given virulent looks by the French bastard. He’d be offended by the obvious dislike, but he didn’t give a damn what Jean Moreau thought about him.
He didn’t give a damn about much, and wished he could include a certain redheaded backliner in that statement as well.
Still, while he spent too much effort studying the Scarlet Knights’ statistics and past games (any effort was too much), he noticed that the bruises on Nathaniel’s too pretty face were fading and that the rest of the Ravens (except Moreau) were giving the young backliner adequate space.
Hmm, it seemed that no one wanted to end up like Lev Federov.
Andrew also noticed the narrow looks Nathaniel cast his way from time to time, as if his soulmate was trying to figure him out. Every now and then he would grin widely at Nathaniel, which would make the redhead mutter something in French and stomp away with his dour shadow trailing along. There would be a pain, sharp and deep, inside of Andrew’s chest as he watched them leave together, until he reminded himself that Nathaniel was his soulmate, not Moreau’s.
Then he’d be so disgusted with himself he’d stalk off to the exercise room so he could hit a punching bag until the urge to destroy something finally eased.
Friday arrived, and Andrew made a game out of thinking up a different ways to kill everyone he saw wearing a #1 Ravens jersey as he went to his classes; he considered it a worthwhile mental exercise. He was distracted from imaging the guy in front of him two rows down in Biology class being slowly whittled away by razor sharp vegetable peelers when Aaron interrupted him by dropping into the seat next to him.
“Hey, real quick, hope you win tonight and Nicky sent this along for you in the monthly care package. Give him a call, okay?” He dropped a plain box in front of Andrew then left, headed to where his friends were seated.
Andrew frowned at the ‘care package’ since Nicky sent one to each of them (and why did he have to talk to the pest?), ready to throw it at his negligent brother until he picked it up and sensed the contents sloshing about inside. Finally, Aaron had come through for him; he slid the box into his backpack then proceeded to ignore the lecture.
He made sure to stash the two bottles of whiskey (cheap, but beggars weren’t about to complain) in his closet when he got back to his room and Ben was distracted, then joined the rest of the team for ‘game-prep’ (going over stats yet again, Tetsuji’s wonderful ‘win or be known forever as scum’ speech, endless warm-up and drills, and then the damn game).
He was half-tempted to drain one of the bottles dry first.
Instead, he clenched a hand around his bottle of pills before he took half a one, just enough to get him through the next couple hours, for the manic buzz in his veins to fade before the start of the game. He wished that he could flush all of them down the toilet, but he’d already tried in those first few months to go without them and failed miserably.
There was no coming off them while locked up in a bathroom for a few days, like he’d done with Aaron.
He didn’t feel the insidious, awful artificial euphoria begin to bleed away until well into the first quarter of the game, as he sat on the bench and watched the Ravens run the Scarlet Knights ragged out on the court. Rutgers might be one of the better ranked universities, but they were late in putting together an Exy team; they had a few good players, but not enough yet to be a serious contender.
Ivanova was able to keep the score low, especially when she had Hebig and Moreau helping her with defense. As much as it annoyed Andrew that the tall Frenchman was Nathaniel’s partner, the man was a good backliner and meshed well with the others, and was near perfect when Nathaniel was out on court with him.
Andrew had hoped that as the drug burned out, he’d be less fascinated with his soulmate, would realize how foolish he’d been to be drawn to him, to think that he could- to think anything about Nathaniel. Yet as he sat there, slightly numb but no longer filled with false emotions, he couldn’t help but be conscious of the lean figure dressed in black and red a few seats way on the bench
 conscious of his presence and how the young man made him feel.
It was something so powerful yet fragile at the same time, such a protective, overwhelming urge, and it was all for Nathaniel.
Andrew was so fucked.
He sat off by himself during the halftime break, mentally reviewing how Rutgers had played during the first half, while Tetsuji berated players for their mistakes on court and reviewed plays for the last two quarters. Feeling the sensation of being watched, he glanced up to find Nathaniel gazing at him; his soulmate turned his head when Andrew met his eyes.
Riko clapped him on the shoulder before he stepped out on court and nearly got a racquet smashed down on his head. “Remember, shut the goal and he’s all yours.”
Andrew bit back on a retort that his memory was fine, mostly because he couldn’t help but add ‘unlike yours, you useless prick’.
Rutgers must have spent their break being yelled at, too, since they came back on court determined to redeem themselves, not that it did them any good. Andrew thought of Nathaniel bruised and held down, about him being a ‘reward’, then let his world narrow down to the ball and who had control of it. As that person approached his end of the court, his memory, usually a curse, pulled up their stats and playing style to help him prepare to defend the goal.
That was, if he needed to defend it; Loiseau and Bautista did a decent job of driving away the Rutgers players in the third quarter, then Moreau and Hebig took over for the last one. As always, Moreau put his size and strength to good use to block the opposing players from reaching the goal, and coordinated the defense with Hebig. Andrew didn’t exactly relax for the last part of the game, but he allowed himself a deep breath and the thought that his deal with Riko might not have been so insane after all.
That he could actually keep Nathaniel safe.
He was exhausted by the end of the game - exhausted, sore, covered in sweat and beginning to feel the first twinges of withdrawal, but he’d held up his end of the bargain: Rutgers hadn’t scored a single point in the second half. The crowd roared in victory as the final buzzer rang, and all he wanted was to go shower then find someplace quiet to curl up.
First he had to suffer through the stupid post-game handshake (touching all those people) then the locker room; at least Tetsuji saved the game review for the next day and everyone already knew that Riko and Kevin would do the post-game interviews. All he cared about was washing off the stink and some of the soreness with a bunch of hot water, and was one of the first in the large wash room.
When he came out, it was to find Riko talking to an upset Moreau (with no Nathaniel in sight); Riko flashed him a ‘thumbs up’ gesture before the prick sauntered away. Intent on reaching his locker so he could change, Andrew figured he’d deal with the backliner later and went to walk past him, only to lash out when Moreau grabbed his shoulder.
“Listen, if you touch him I’ll-“
Andrew spun around and fisted his hands into Moreau’s sweaty jersey then slammed him into the nearest wall; he had to yank on the material to pull the tall bastard down to somewhat face level. “Did I touch him last time?” he gritted out in a low voice so none of the Ravens gathering around them would overhear. “Did I?” When Moreau gave a reluctant shake of his head, Andrew tugged some more on the damp, black material. “I’m doing this so no one else gets him.”
Moreau appeared stunned by that claim, then quickly resumed scowling. “I will gut you if you hurt him.”
There was a slight bit less venom in the words that time, so Andrew took that to be a general warning for show.  He clicked his tongue as he pushed away from the backliner. “You’re spending the night in my room,” he called out as he walked over to his locker to get dressed, aware of the other Ravens staring at them.
For once ‘glad’ of the attention, he figured let them find out that Nathaniel was ‘his’ so he wouldn’t put up with anyone disagreeing on that front.
He was given a lot of sideway glances while he changed then walked out of the locker room, but no one said a word. He pushed aside the growing sense of nausea from withdrawal as his body clamored for another pill, for a hit of artificial mania, determined to face Nathaniel as himself.
When he reached Nathaniel’s room, he knocked twice then entered; Nathaniel sat on the bed in a defensive huddle, his arms wrapped around his long legs, dressed in one of Moreau’s jerseys and an impressive scowl on his face.
“And you said you’re not like the others. Liar.”
Andrew arched an eyebrow at the amount of scorn and hatred directed his way right then, impressed despite himself. “All I did was walk through the door.”
“You made a fucking deal with Riko for me!” Nathaniel shouted as he unfurled enough to snatch up a book from his nightstand and throw it at Andrew; of course he had good aim, Andrew barely managed to bat it aside in time. “For every week!”
“Every week I manage to nearly shut down the goal,” Andrew confessed.
Nathaniel produced a ragged laugh as he tucked himself into the corner of his bed. “Yeah, now you take playing seriously, when it gets you something, huh? When you get to act like the mark on your arm means you own someone when it doesn’t, it doesn’t mean anything other than you’re an asshole and the Fates hate me and I wish I could just burn it off and have everyone leave me alone!” He’d started out yelling at Andrew but ended up practically tucked into a ball with his arms wrapped around his head, his tone one of misery.
A misery which Andrew understood, considering all the times he’d wished much the same about his soulmate mark, after all the grief Drake had caused him over it, after believing no one would want him because of Drake and the others. Then what did he find? A lovely young man bearing terrible scars on his body and soul who was so much like him that it hurt.
Andrew had hoped he wouldn’t feel anything as he stood before Nathaniel with the drug (temporarily) out of his system, but he’d been deluding himself on that front. The protective urge he’d experienced earlier returned so strongly that he moved before he became aware of it, was kneeling on the bed before he could tell himself to stop.
Nathaniel reacted to his presence immediately; he began to sit up, to move his arms (to lash out), but stilled when Andrew cupped the back of his neck, his blue eyes wide with a mix of panic and fear.
“Nothing but this,” Andrew assured him, angry at himself for causing that fear. “I swear. Okay? Yes or no?” He just wanted to calm Nathaniel down.
His soulmate was quiet for a couple seconds, enough to make him begin to pull away. “Yes,” Nathaniel breathed out, his expression now wary as if he waited to see what Andrew would do next. Despite the strain on his tired muscles from leaning forward, despite the urge to sink his fingers in Nathaniel’s thick hair, despite the growing sense of nausea and dizziness, Andrew remained still and focused on the slowing pulse beneath his thumb.
“Why are you here?” Nathaniel eventually asked as he continued to gaze up at Andrew. “What do you want?ïżœïżœïżœ
He ignored the second (dangerous) question. “If I’m here, the others aren’t.”
“Are you serious?” Nathaniel scoffed, then frowned when Andrew remained quiet. “You’re really going to try to shut down the goal every game then come here and only sleep, just to keep Riko from handing me off to the others?”
He didn’t need to sound so doubtful about everything; if Andrew was the sensitive type, he’d be offended right then.
“You don’t snore like Ben does,” Andrew drawled as he forced himself to let go of Nathaniel and move. As he walked away from his incredulous soulmate, he motioned toward Moreau’s bed. “Tell your partner to get a spare set of clean sheets for me so I don’t have to sleep in his smelly bed.”
It took some effort, but he managed to make it into the bathroom without walking into the door or tripping over his feet; once inside with the door closed, he fumbled for his pills and choked one down, then slumped against the sink with the water running until the nausea was under control. He hated having to take the damn medication again, but Nathaniel might object if he spent the night puking his guts out.
When he finally left the bathroom, it was to find Nathaniel beneath the covers and facing the wall, and what appeared to be a set of clean sheets folded on top of Moreau’s bed. Andrew only spent a moment regarding what he hoped was a peace offering of sorts before he worked quickly to strip and remake the bed, tired and more than willing to fall asleep.
Maybe it was from working so hard during the game, maybe it was because his soulmate was nearby, but Andrew slept without any nightmares that night. He woke up when Nathaniel rose early and left the room, then got half an hour more sleep before he had to get up for another ‘fun’ day at the Nest.
Moreau caught up to him later in the day, when he was fixing a coffee to take back to his room after their morning practice; the other Ravens in the break room (including Ben) were quick to leave, obviously expecting some sort of fight between the two of them.
Andrew gave him a grin as he hopped onto the counter to sit. “Got any croissants on ya, Valjean?”
Moreau sighed as he fetched two mugs from a cabinet. “Do you try to be so annoying or is it natural?”
Andrew gasped and clutched his free hand to his chest. “Me? Annoying? I guess I’ll have to really lay on the charm now.”
“God forbid,” Moreau muttered as he glanced toward the door as if to ensure they were alone. He was quiet as he made two cups of tea (hmm, who might the other be for?), then approached Andrew with due caution. “You’re protecting Nathaniel,” he said, his deep voice quiet and expression serious.
“Why would I do a thing like that?” Andrew asked as he kicked his feet back and forth, uncaring about the heels of his sneakers hitting the lower cabinets.
Moreau frowned then set the mugs down so he could tug on the left sleeve of his sweatshirt to reveal the fleur de lis and wave pattern of his own soul mark – the mark which was only revealed when he showered. “Because it’s what we do, we protect them.” His black eyebrows drew together as his frown deepened. “Well, most of us.”
Hmm, not people like Nathaniel’s father, maybe? But one thing at a time. “You know your soulmate,” Andrew accused as he held his mug of coffee beneath his chin, curious to see if Moreau would tell him the truth.
The backliner was quiet for a moment then nodded. “He plays Exy,” Moreau whispered with a gleam of fear in his eyes. “I can’t let Riko know.”
No, or Riko would use Moreau against the man, much like he’d used Nathaniel against Andrew (had he suspected they might be tied together because of their pasts?). “What does Riko have against you?” Andrew asked as he leaned forward. “You and Nathaniel? Who’s Nathan Wesninski, really?”
Moreau shook his head as he tugged down the sleeve of his shirt. “Not here,” he hissed out as he once again glanced toward the door. “That’s
 not here.” He picked up the mugs and stared at Andrew as if searching for something, then nodded. “But if you’re serious about Nathaniel
.”
“I want answers, so tell me where ‘not here’ is,” Andrew commanded as he poured his lousy coffee onto the floor while he held Moreau’s gaze.
Moreau nodded again as if answering an internal question. “Later. Riko and Kevin will be gone to play for their professional team, and Nathaniel to work on translations. I’ll let you know when to stop by.”
“Ooh, it’s a date,” Andrew drawled as he jumped to the floor and splashed coffee everywhere. “Just so you know, I don’t put out, I’m not that kind of guy.” He sauntered out of the break room to the sound of Moreau muttering in French.
They were going to be besties, he just knew it.
*******
Oh boy is Jean in for it now.
So... I’ve being going back and forth on this, but I’ve set up a discord channel (have had it for a while, actually). Don’t know if people would be interested in it as a place to get a look at fics, stuff in progress and things like that?
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