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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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Perfect

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: After much research and seeking out advice from Tony, Loki asks you on a date. Warnings: dialogue heavy and an adorably awkward Loki A/N: Thank you for requesting @akhansen2800! I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The common room was a mess, thanks to the trickster god. There was paper and books littered all over the floor. Not to mention bits and pieces from the computer he may or may not have smashed against the ground. It really was hardly his fault, though; it was the insipid machine that dared defy him.

“Woah, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, walking in, sidestepping the junk on the ground. “Did a tornado hit or something?”

“Oh, very funny, Stark. If you ask me, it is an improvement over this drab decor you have picked,” Loki quipped, eyes never leaving the page he was reading.

“No, how could you! My heart, it can’t take this,” Tony overdramatically gasped, flopping on top of the papers strewn on the couch. “Goodbye, cruel world.”

“Your theatrics never cease to amaze me,” Loki sighed, finally looking up at the man he’d come to call friend. “And that says a lot, coming from me.”

“You’re right, it’s high praise.” Tony picked up one of the papers he’d crinkled from laying on top of. “What is all this, anyway?”

Just because Loki considered Tony a friend, didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to say what he was doing. He was still a rather closed off person and, in all honesty, preferred to avoid any and all talks about his emotions. Which, of course, brings him right back to why he’s sitting in the middle of this mess, anyway. His emotions, which, despite his best efforts, he did still have.

Loki stood up and stretched his muscles, achy from being hunched over his reading material for so long. He snatched away the page Tony was perusing, only for him to grab another one to skim. Realizing any effort to keep confiscating the papers one at a time would be fruitless, Loki moved it all to his room with a snap of his fingers. Then he sat next to his companion and began wringing his hands in that awful nervous tic of his. Truth be told, he could use some advice, but that only brought him back to square one of having to talk about his feelings. Tony leaned back on the couch while patiently awaiting Loki’s answer.

“I was doing some research,” Loki finally admitted. “On some Midgardian things.”

“That’s cute, Reindeer, but you could just ask me. Or maybe Peter if it's a pop culture thing.”

“It is not.” Loki wondered how much he could beat around the bush before he either had to give up on the conversation or genuinely say what was wrong. “It is just something I am not entirely sure how to go about.”

“I’m great at giving advice.”

“No, you are not,” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure I am!” Tony exclaimed, feigning hurt. “How would you know, anyway? You’ve never actually asked me for any.”

“Maybe not, but I have seen the way you live your own life, Stark.”

“That’s entirely different,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Come on, give me a chance. Fire away, I’m ready.”

Loki merely rolled his eyes again, though he was actually considering it. He hated to admit it—he really hated to admit it—but Tony had become somewhat of a father figure to him. That was absolutely ridiculous, of course, considering how Loki was a thousand years older than the man. But after his childhood, he’d be silly to reject that kind of relationship. Loki supposed that if he had to go to anyone with this problem, Tony wasn’t a terrible option. Besides, he should probably let himself be emotionally vulnerable very once in a while, right? That was supposed to be good or something, he thought. So, he steeled himself, and told Tony his issue.

“There is this Midgardian that I know. They are very sweet and kind and perfect... I mean, they are as bearable as a Midgardian can be,” Loki covered up, blushing slightly from how much he had just revealed. “I would like to ask them to spend some time with me, but I am not sure how.”

“Awww, you have a crush,” Tony cooed. “How sweet. You want to ask them out.”

“No,” Loki protested, stubborn as ever. Tony just raised his eyebrows at him. “Ok, fine! Yes, I would like to take them on a date, but I am dreadfully lacking in knowledge on Midgardian dating etiquette.”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Tony grinned. “Oh and take notes.”

And so, Loki spent the next two and a half hours listening to Tony ramble on. Most of it was just him going on rather useless tangents about his own endeavors in love. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes so many times, he began to fear they might roll out of his head. His notes, at least, were pretty amusing. Ok, to call them notes may be a little generous. They were mainly silly doodles of Tony monologuing, with the few helpful things he said jotted in the margins. He got so invested in one of his little caricatures that he didn’t even notice Tony stopped speaking.

“Hey, that’s not what I look like,” Tony pouted, peering at the drawing.

“Well nothing you were saying was helping, Stark.” Loki put the note pad in one of his dimensional pockets. “I am not like you. I am not a flashy person when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Oh, so you want to go the be yourself way. You know, the sappy speeches and flowers and chocolates direction.”

Loki perked up a bit. “Yes. Yes, that sounds splendid.”

Tony sighed and gave Loki a list of movies to watch. And told him to speak from the heart. That troubled Loki; no one ever really cared to listen to him speak before. But, he dutifully watched all the assigned movies, supplemented by some of the books he was still combing through.

After a week of preparation and many, many drafts of a speech to say to you, Loki was finally ready to ask you out. Donning his best Midgardian suit, he walked out of his room, greeted by a bright flash of light. Tony was standing there, camera in hand.

“Look, at my little boy,” he fake cried. “All grown up.”

“Stark, will your antics ever stop?” Loki looked at the camera out of the corner of his eye. “And delete that photo, I was not ready.”

“Nope. It’s payback for all those unflattering doodles. Now, go get ‘em, Reindeer. Remember: Just be yourself.”

Easier said than done, Loki thought as he called upon his seiðr, teleporting to your street. You were an employee at Stark Tower; that’s how the two of you met. Loki had been looking for his brother, his search taking him into the cafeteria, one of his least favorite places in the whole building. It was always too loud and populated for someone who liked his silence and solitude. The sheer number of people in the room was overwhelming to the god that day, but he needed to speak with Thor, and he’d searched just about every other place his brother could be. He could not spot him in the crowd, but his eyes landed on you, off near a corner at a table alone and reading a book. He cast one last nervous look around the room before heading towards where you were, his social anxiety kicking in.

“Hello,” he said after clearing his throat.

You looked up at him with a dreamy sort of gleam in your eye that revealed how enchanted you’d been with your book. It gave Loki a little boost of confidence to know that that happened to you, too. That you could get so lost in a story that the world around you disappeared. It calmed his racing heart a little.

“Oh uh, hi,” you greeted with a chipper smile. Then more nervously, added, “It’s Loki, right?”

“Yes, that is correct. Loki of Asgard, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, sweeping into a small bow. “And you are?”

You told him his name, extending your hand for a shake. “How can I help you?”

“I am looking for my brother, but I cannot find him. You have not seen him around, have you?”

“I actually did see him earlier, though I’m not sure- Wait!” you suddenly exclaimed, and Loki followed your gaze. “He’s over there.”

Loki gulped. Of course his brother was at the table in the center of the room, surrounded by people. He really needed to talk to him about a mission, but the thought of going over there was making his stomach feel queasy. He tried to take a step forward, but his feet were apparently glued to the floor.

“Hey, if you’re nervous about going over there, I get it. Crowds can be scary,” you said, picking up on his subtle fidgeting. “The room usually clears out significantly in about ten minutes from now. I, um, was going to that little cafe over in the corner and get some tea or coffee, if you want to come.” Loki stared at you for a moment, unused to being invited places, especially by mortals he did not know. You seemed to mistake his silence, though, and rushed to assure him he didn’t have to. “Sorry, that was probably stupid. You’re under no obligation to say yes, of course. I understand.”

“No! I mean, yes.” He sighed and mentally smacked himself. Ever since moving to Midgard, his silver tongue was not what it used to be around strangers. “I mean, no that is not stupid, and yes, I would like to go to that cafe with you.”

And go to that cafe you did, launching into an animated conversation about reading. Loki even made you laugh, which felt like a huge accomplishment to him. The both of you sat back down at your table with your warm drinks, still chatting. There were very few people Loki ever felt so relaxed with, especially so soon after meeting them. You didn’t talk about anything groundbreaking, but he enjoyed talking to a kindred spirit. Somehow you even got a smile tugging at his lips, getting wider by the minute.

True to what you’d said, the room noticeably emptied nearly ten minutes later. With only a few people left and after such an amazing conversation, Loki was sure he could go grab his brother out of the room. But that was the problem; the conversation was too amazing, and he didn’t want it to end. And it seemed you didn’t either.

“Hey, um, maybe this is weird, but do you maybe want to talk again sometime? Like if you ever need a friend or are bored or anything?” you ventured.

“I would love that,” he genuinely replied.

You quickly wrote down your number and, after double and triple checking it, handed it to him. He tucked it safely away in one of his inner pockets before getting up and you bidding you goodbye. Then, in a better mood than he’d been in in a long time, Loki waltzed over to Thor’s table and successfully extracted him from the few people still clinging to his every word. He glanced back at you one last time before exiting, and you gave him a small, somewhat shy wave. He returned it along with a smile.

Loki kept that all in his heart as he walked up to your door, finger hovering by the bell for a minute. Maybe this was silly. No, this was definitely ridiculous. But, if he stood here any longer, your neighbors would probably think he was some crazy person.

Really, he shouldn’t be so nervous. You talked all the time since that day of your first meeting, and you’d never seemed bothered by him before. Not even when he started bringing surprise morning coffees to your desk. Or when he started leaving you books he thought you might like. Or when he started giving you little hugs when you seemed down. In fact, you seemed touched by all that. But this was all so new to him, so different from anything he’d known before. What if he was reading it all wrong? Before he could talk himself out if it, he rang the bell.

He heard you shout that you were coming in response. He quickly adjusted his tie and then stood with the flowers hidden behind his back. He made sure to get a bouquet of your favorites. You opened the door and your mouth made an adorable little “o” of surprise before your lips formed a sweet smile.

“Loki!” you greeted, smoothing down your sweatshirt. “I wasn’t expecting you. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s great to see you. Um, do you want to come in? The place is kind of a mess right now, but-”

Loki whipped out the flowers from behind him, making you cut out in surprise. He stared at his feet and nervously mumbled, “These are for you.”

“Loki, these are so beautiful. This is so sweet. Thank you.” You gave him one of those shy smiles that he loved so much. “I feel bad, I don’t have anything for you.”

“That is quite alright. I have come here to ask you something.”

“Oh! Ok. I’m all ears.”

Loki smiled at the Midgardian expression, calming him a little. “We have been friends for some time now, and I have thoroughly enjoyed every minute—nay, every second—I have spent with you. You are the most kindhearted being I have ever met, beautiful both inside and out. And thus, I find myself wanting something more than friendship, if you will allow it. My dear, sweet, darling little mortal, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“Oh, Loki,” you breathed. “That was beautiful. I would absolutely love to go on a date with you.”

He cheered on the inside, and you hugged him close. After you pulled away, the two of you stood there for a minute, smiling like dorks. It seemed to Loki that no matter how badly he wanted to say something else, the only thought occupying his brain was that you said yes. He could hardly believe you said yes.

“So, uh, what are we going to do on our date?” you sheepishly asked.

Loki’s face dropped. He couldn’t believe how foolish he was. “I do not know yet. I knew there was something I was forgetting. I am sorry, darling.”

“That’s ok, Loki,” you kindheartedly laughed. “Tell you what, there’s a bookstore with the most adorable little cafe in it, just a couple blocks from here. Why don’t we go there?”

“That sounds perfect,” he replied, his smile returning already. “How does tomorrow sound? I can come pick you up around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You stared at each for another minute, those same goofy grins that gave away how happy you were plastered on your faces. When Loki began to overthink how awkward he probably looked, he found it in himself to tear his eyes away from your beauty.

“So I shall see you tomorrow then,” he nervously said.

“Yup! See you then,” you replied, your nerves equaling his own.

After a quick hug and waving goodbye to each other, you parted ways. Soon, Loki was back home in the Tower, happily sprawled on the sofa, book in hand.

“Hey Reindeer Games,” Tony greeted. “So, how’d it go? Was I right, or was I right?”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, Stark, you were right.” Loki smiled to himself, already daydreaming about your date. “It was perfect.”

Loki found that after so much anxiety and uncertainness, there was finally one thing he knew; tomorrow was going to be perfect, too.

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not-from-the-absence-of-violence · 4 years ago

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Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.

The first time Travis runs into Gable after he loses Margaret; Its winter and he can't bear to be alone.

a/n: this is the fastest i have managed to write fic for a fandom and I fully blame it on the amount of feelings I have for these idiots. Also the discord. I wrote this in a haze at 1 am and i made myself cry. so enjoy <3

Thanks to @drowninginstarlights for proof reading (and check out their stuff its brilliant)

Travis hadn’t fallen asleep in someone's arms since Margaret, but the previous evening he had ran into Gable for the first time since the river had taken her. Travis wasn’t even sure how long any of it had been; had he seen Gable a decade ago? Two? Had he lost Margaret a year ago? Or just last week?

Gable had very obviously been able to tell he was in a bad way, which meant he must have truly looked terrible, if Gable of all people had noticed.

They had done their typical song and dance. They bickered in a bar, Gable said they have a room he can stay in if he wants, he said he would rather throw himself into the sea, he goes to Gable’s room anyway and they know well enough not to comment on it.

They hadn’t talked much back at the room, just drinking and begrudgingly enjoying each other's company. Occasionally Gable would open their mouth as if to speak and then they’d just pass Travis the bottle again.

By the time night was about to fall Travis had wordlessly left the room. Gable had again almost started to speak but by the time they had managed “Travis…” he was already out the door, somewhere where he could suffer alone.

It was when he was slipping into an unused room in the inn he had realised it was winter and cursed under his breath.

He disliked the bunny the most out of all of them, the fear of being hunted, having nothing to defend himself. It was when he most felt the pull to run back into the forest, back to her and her “protection”.

After several agonizing minutes he was a bunny, and not strong enough to fight the pull of the forest. Not tonight. Not alone.

He scratched rather pathetically at the door to Gable’s room and entered.

Gable liked the rabbit form, something like a smile spread on their face as he hopped into the room.

“Don’t you dare pick me up,” Travis said viciously. Even if what he meant was please do.

Gable might have known, or they might have just wanted to annoy him, because they did, in fact, pick him up anyway, marvelling as always over the softness of his fur and laughing at his not very convincing exasperated look on a bunny’s face.

They were a little drunker than normal, and one thing led to another and Gable had fallen fast asleep, with Travis still in their arms.

Travis had argued with himself that Gable was strong, and he couldn’t possibly escape this, and so he might as well resign himself to his fate and get some sleep. Somewhere he knew he could very easily wriggle out.

He’d fallen asleep in the span of minutes.

Now, however, he’s awake with the first rays of sunlight and his bones begging to snap.

He panics, not knowing what to do, as he’s still held tightly in Gable’s grasp. It isn’t long before his hind legs snap properly though and he isn’t able to contain a small yelp of pain.

Gable seems to be awake immediately and Travis isn’t sure what he was expecting really, but it certainly isn’t for Gable to pull away gently so as to not hurt him further, and to start blabbering soothing words.

The transformations always seem to hurt more after that period of time he had spent in the forest and no one had ever tried to soothe it, no one aside from Margaret. But even she had been at a loss of what to do, she couldn’t bear the pain of him having to go through it every day.

It was everything too much all at once, Gable’s gentle “I got you, Travis, it will be over soon.” The memory of the look of misery Margaret had whenever the sun rose and sank, the agonizing pain shooting through his body like someone had stabbed him everywhere at once.

The pain receded after what felt like an age and then he lay there, panting, eyes tearing up and whimpering miserably.

Gable doesn’t say anything, just very tentatively gathers him up in their arms, slow enough that Travis could pull away and run if he wanted to.

Everything in Travis does want to pull away, to run out, to shout at Gable because it felt like they were dangerously close to the edge of something. Some as of yet unbroken rule. But he was too tired, too tired to deny himself anything. So instead he let it happen, after all, it would just be for a bit, just until he could get his breath back under control, just until he could shake off the feeling of profound agony about him.

He half-hoped Gable would make fun of him, or get mad. That would sort him out, he knew how to bite back, he had memorized his lines by now. It would hurt, but at least it would be familiar, at least it would be his, theirs.

Instead Gable shifts incredibly delicately and then ever so softly places a kiss on the top of his forehead.

That’s what does it, it’s the last straw and Travis chokes out a sob.

He clings to Gable, his hands shaking as he grabs onto the back of their shirt, he burrows his face into their chest and cries, unable to contain it any longer.

Gable doesn’t say anything, just holds him, just tenderly brushes his hair out of his face. He can’t do anything but weep, as every single bit of emotion he had been avoiding overwhelms him all at once.

He is not sure how much time passes, but eventually the emotion is burned out of him and the only thing that’s left is his unsteady breaths.

One of Gable's hands is in his hair, the other is on his cheek, cradling it and carefully wiping away the remnants of tears. The vulnerability of it all makes his chest ache yet he can’t bear to pull away.

Travis looks up to see them. They lock eyes and Gable doesn't bother with anything as inane as are you alright or do you want to talk about it?

They do look desperate, though, their eyes full of questions and millions of unspoken things.

Travis doesn’t know what to do about it either, so he simply pushes himself up and kisses them. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed, but it is the first time it feels like he’s being peeled open, it feels raw. The genuineness is new, the tears in both of their eyes are new.

Gable’s hands automatically cradle Travis’ face and he leans into the touch, deepening the kiss.

They both exhale shakily into each other's mouths, pulling away like everything is made out of glass.

Both are still holding each other, Gable turns their face a little to press a kiss into his palm. Travis can't help himself, just because of that, he kisses them again.

They look at each other for quite a while after, in the still half dark room, in the bed that is actually too small for two people.

Gable looks like they are going to say something a few times, whatever they find in Travis’ gaze stops them everytime.

Eventually, wordlessly, they both settle for cuddling without looking at each other. If it is possible to embrace someone without acknowledging their existence, that’s what they try to do.

It’s been a long life for both of them, and it doesn’t take long for them to both fall asleep again.

The second time Travis wakes up Gable is still asleep, on their back, with only one hand slung over Travis.

Gable looks peaceful like this, their hair sprawled everywhere, their scars faintly visible through the fabric of their shirt. They’re even snoring a bit.

Travis knows then that he should not have let himself indulge. It hurts to see Gable like this, probably more than seeing Gable upset.

He knows he can't stay there, so he carefully frees himself, stands up and turns to leave. He feels about twelve different emotions swell up at once as he hears Gable’s still asleep mumbling.

“Travis?”

In a last moment of weakness, he turns around, stooping down next to the bed and pressing a kiss into their hair. That seems to content them and they let out a breath and go back to their peaceful slumber.

He knows he can’t do this again because of the way the pain in his chest as he closes the door is almost unbearable.

He walks away aimlessly. Days later he will find himself a rabbit, yet again being chased by some kind of bird at the edge of a forest surrounded by a river. And he will hear the echoing laughter of the Forest Queen. No doubt she’ll save him eventually, but there is no reason she can’t enjoy the show first.

#skyjacks #gable skyjacks #travis matagot #trable #campaign podcast #campaign skyjacks #ao3 link in the rb #skyjacks fic #my writing

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trensu · 5 years ago

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Episode 47: The One where JGY Gets Kinky with WWX and NO ONE Likes It

so our boys are still wandering around yunping and wwx is trying his hand at being matchmaker

he starts asking lwj if there's any female cultivators that *insert list of traits here*

they're still walking ahead of wn, who looks distracted by smth idk what

lwj: what for?

he asks as soon as wwx finishes listing off traits

It’s off-screen tho so we don't get to see his expression

But this is lwj we’re talking about and we all know how he gets when wwx so much as implies interest in other people

wwx: it's not for me!!

LOL WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO RUSH IN AND EXPLAIN THAT??

IT’S NOT LIKE HE’S EVEN NOTICED LWJ’S JEALOUS STREAK

WHY WAS IT SO IMPORTANT FOR HIM TO KNOW IT WASN’T FOR YOU, WWX?? HMM??

and then he goes on to say how wn is all grown up now and probs can't spend the rest of his life third-wheeling them

wwx looks back and sees wn surrounded by children while lwj is still facing the other way

and i only mention this bc once wwx sees wn with the kids, wwx reaches over and PHYSICALLY TURNS lwj around by gently grabbing him by the shoulders

wwx: following me like this, is not an appropriate life for him. According to the bro code, i def need to find him a partner

this is actually so sweet tho, wwx doesn’t want his buddy to be lonely!!

wwx: hanguang jun, what do you think?

lwj: *nod*

wwx: at least, he needs to make some friends

AND THEN HE GETS A SMILE ON HIS FACE AND LOOKS AT LWJ

wwx: lan zhan, i think sizhui is a perfect candidate

OMGGGGGG

I AM LITERALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD RN

AS SOON AS WWX SAYS THAT LWJ LOOKS DOWN AND SO VERY AWKWARDLY TWITCHES TO THE SIDE AND KEEPS WALKING

I'M D Y I N G LOLOLOLOL

HE'S LIKE SHIT FUCK HE STILL DOESN'T KNOW, DAMN IT, I DIDN'T TELL HIM YET, I MUST LEAVE RIGHT NOW

wwx doesn't dwell on lwj's abrupt departure bc when ISN'T lwj abrupt, right?

After wwx rescues wn from the children, he tells him to go wait at the inn while he and lwj continue to investigate.

wn goes all Sad Puppy about it.

but wwx doesn't see it bc he's already running towards lwj "lan zhan, wait for me!"

Small interruption to say that i really really enjoy watching our boys walk side by side?

we're constantly getting shots of their backs as they walk next to each other and even if they weren't EPIC SOULMATES, it’s still like, aesthetically pleasing.

Oh look, they found out that jgy's deed was to a Temple of Doom

or okay, a standard religious temple but considering what goes down in there eventually, i think Temple of Doom is a pretty accurate name for it

lwj mentions he senses a magic circle hidden in the temple and they proceed to talk plot stuff

but i'm just so distracted by their pretty faces

mostly wwx's, but lwj also has a pretty face

blah blah plot blah

it's decided they need to come back at night when it'll presumably be empty

now wwx is politely questioning a monk

wwx: Asks Clever Plot Related Questions

me: *dreamy sigh* so pretty wwx, so pretty

ooooh, wwx's Clever Plot Related Questions reveal that the monk is a FRAUD.

idc about it or why he's a fraud but i just wanted to demonstrate HOW SMART MY SUNSHINE BOY IS. he’s got beauty AND brains!!!

cut to next scene and IT'S NIGHT TIME

wwx, lwj, and wn are approaching the Temple of Doom

lwj stops wwx from getting any closer to the doors with an outstretched arm

then lwj gets closer to the doors and kind of just...lobs a bit of his blue spiritual energy at the door

turns out it's warded! no getting in that way

so wwx says they'll get in through the courtyard or smth and tells wn to stand guard

LOLOL LOVE THIS LINE:

wwx: i am half a wreck but we still have hanguang jun~

WWX HAS SO MUCH FAITH IN HIS SOULMATE

we get some alone time with wn who notices some ominous black clouds rolling in so he takes off to investigate

MY BRATTY SON!! MY BRATTY SON IS HERE!! FOLLOWING HIS DOGGY

And that dumb dog is leading my precious brat of a son straight to the Temple of Doom!!

GO BACK TO BED, BRATTY SON, YOU DON'T NEED TO BE HERE

now we cut to our boys spying over the wall and they see a whole bunch of random dudes with bows/arrows

and now we hear barking! AHH!!! THAT STUPID DOG IS PUTTING MY BRATTY SON IN DANGER

jl knocks the door AND BEHIND THE DOOR ARE A BUNCH OF ASSHOLES AIMING THEIR ARROWS AT HIM

HOW DARE THEY

DON'T YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON MY BRATTY SON'S HEAD, I WILL KILL YOU DEAD

wwx is thinking to himself: why is jl here? why didn't wn stop him? naughty kid, leave quickly with the dog!!

BUT JL DOESN'T LEAVE WITH FAIRY

INSTEAD JL DOES WHAT HIS UNCLE WWX DID AND CLIMBS UP THE WALL TO PEEK OVER

we get a close up shot of wwx's eyes here and i'm mentioning this for two reasons

1) wwx has beautiful brown eyes and everyone should take a moment to be grateful for this close up of them

but, more importantly

2) WE ALSO GET A GLIMPSE OF HIS EAR IN THIS SHOT AND HIS EAR HAS FRECKLES AND IT'S THE CUTEST THING EVER. FRECKLY WWX!!! WWX WITH FRECKLES!!! I'M SO HAPPY

okay back to the show i guess

jl manages to pull himself up BUT OH NO, THEY'VE GOT AN ARROW AIMED AT HIM

WWX SEES THIS AND HIS EYES GO WIDE WITH FEAR BC THAT'S HIS DARLING LITTLE NEPHEW THEY'RE PLANNING TO SHOOT

we see wwx gripping his bamboo flute

and in the next second the bad guys loose their arrows at my bratty son!! HOW DARE THEY

wwx thinks fast and flings his flute at the incoming arrows and one of the arrows oh so conveniently splits the flute so it's unusable now

wwx: jin ling, run!!

WWX GAVE AWAY HIS POSITION TO SAVE HIS NEPHEW, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

now our boys are getting shot at and it's super stressful

but wwx and lwj leap off the roof (wwx does a fancy flip bc ofc he does) and wwx starts flinging talismans everywhere like nbd

they're smoke bomb talismans apparently

NOOOOOO I DIDN'T REALIZE WHAT SCENE WAS COMING UP HERE I'M NOT READY FOR IT

so smoke bombs right, and we see somebody walking calmly through it

our boys land on the ground and get ready to start fighting

BUT SUDDENLY WE SEE A FLASH OF GOLD THREAD

WWX FLINCHES BACK TO AVOID IT BUT ALL IT DID WAS MAKE IT EASIER FOR FUCKING JGY TO WRAP IT AROUND WWX'S (BEAUTIFUL) EXPOSED VULNERABLE NECK!!!

IT'S A GARROTE AND MY SUNSHINE BOY IS CAUGHT IN IT

JGY HAS THIS DARK EVIL LOOK ON HIS FACE AND HE'S HOLDING WWX HOSTAGE!!!!

I'M GONNA PUNCH THAT EVIL SMIRK RIGHT OFF YOUR FACE JGY

LET GO OF MY SUNSHINE BOY, YOU BASTARD

lwj has his bichen drawn and pointed directly at jgy but he hasn't made a move yet bc wwx is being used as a human shield!!

jgy: i advise master wei not to whistle. it doesn't matter if the flute is broken. but if a finger or tongue is lost, that would be tragic

he says it with a fake, condescending concerned expression

I HATE HIM SO MUCH, I'M GONNA STRANGLE HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS

wwx gives a little huff and says sarcastically: you have a good point

eeww, we hear the garrote creak as jgy starts walking backwards

and wwx has no choice but to follow BC HE'S GOT A GARROTE AROUND HIS NECK

lwj keeps pace with them, sword still pointed at jgy BC HELL NO HE'S NOT GONNA LET HIM TAKE MY, I MEAN, HIS WEI YING AWAY

oh, side note, we get a nice peek at some decorative etchings along bichen’s blade, kinda like suibian’s red line, except they’re pale silvery blue

Have they been there the whole time?? HOW DID I NOT NOTICE??

I blame wwx’s beautiful face for distracting me at every turn

Anyway, the etchings are pretty, whatever they are

Jgy is like don’t even THINK of trying anything hanguang jun!!

the garrote creaks bc FUCKING JGY TIGHTENS ENOUGH TO CUT INTO THE TENDER SKIN IN WWX'S NECK AND MAKES HIM BLEED!!

at that, lwj stiffly lowers bichen and he immediately gets surrounded by jgy's henchmen

the expression on lwj's face!! this is him scowling up a storm

since this is lwj's face we're talking about tho, there's only the slightest downward pull at the corner of his mouth.

his eyes, on the other hand, his eyes are glowering fiercely

wwx tells lxc not to feel so bad about being tricked bc after all jgy is the best at what he does

now wwx and jgy are doing that thing i love, you know the trope?

when the good guy and the bad guy speak to each other lightly, casually

As if no one is actually poised to get murdered or anything

with an implicit acknowledgement of each others' immense skill

And they exchange notes as to how the good guy discovered the bad guy’s nefarious plot and the bad guy taking it as constructive criticism for future evil endeavors

Good stuff, good stuff

as they do this, jgy keeps his eyes pinned to lwj, who is the only real threat to him right now

wwx: since we’re completely at your mercy how’s about you tell me what kind of treasure is in the Temple of Doom?

jgy: the price to satisfy your curiosity is high. are you sure you want to try, master wei?

he says all falsely regretful

look i hate jgy with every fiber of my being, but i do appreciate this sort of banter

unfortunately it gets interrupted by some henchmen dragging in my bratty son!!!

jgy gives jl a sweet benign smile, with dimples and all

which kind of cracks me up tbh, bc it does not mesh with the fact that he's got wwx by the neck here

jl: uncle jgy!

jgy: 'sup a-ling?

wwx: what's wrong with you, kid? why'd you come here at night??

JL: IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS

OH GOD, THAT'S HILARIOUS.

IT REALLY JUST SHOWS HOW MUCH OF A KID HE STILL IS (BC HELLO, HE'S LIKE 12 I MEAN 16)

that was totally just a reflexive indignant response to wwx's tone, i love it

bc it's not like his one uncle is threatening to murder his other uncle or anything important lololol

and for all the dog lovers out there, to really hammer in how evil jgy is, jgy orders his henchmen to go murder fairy

my bratty son is very upset by this

lxc comes in here and is like, hey, jl is just a kid!! and also your nephew!!!

and jgy is all like, ofc i know he's a kid and my nephew! what do you think i'd do?? kill him???

well, i mean, you did murder your own infant son

i can't imagine killing your teenage nephew is that big of a leap for you, jgy

and then he goes right on to say that hey nephew, if you run or scream, probably something awful will happen to you so maybe don't do that

MY POOR BRATTY SON

oh now we cut to the inside of the temple and people are digging into the floor

wwx is wondering what the heck jgy is looking for

then he looks at lwj and with just a twitch of his eyebrows indicates that OMG JGY IS DISTRACTED AND THERE'S AN OPENING FOR AN ATTACK, GO FOR IT LWJ

or at least i'm assuming that's what that eyebrow twitch meant bc lwj catches it and leaps into action

he raises bichen and dives towards jgy aiming to cut his head clean off, it looks like

but jgy sees it coming in the last second and jerks wwx in front of him.

bichen stops just barely an inch or two away from wwx's bleeding neck

wwx closes his eyes in disappointment bc they had been so close!

and now he just looks so upset bc he thinks he’s ruined their chances by letting jgy use him as a shield

jgy: hanguang jun, put bichen down now. do you really want to kill master wei?

THAT’S LOW FUCKING BLOW, JGY

HE KNOWS IT TOO

HE KNOWS LWJ FEELS GUILTY ABOUT WWX’S DEATH, THAT BASTARD

and omg wwx's face his eyes are red and teary, wide open and pinned to lwj as we all watch lwj obediently lower bichen

wwx: lan zhan, don't listen to him!

my sunshine boy's brow is all furrowed and he sounds desperate here

wwx: i have never blamed you! lan zhan, you go first to find reinforcements!

HE'S PRACTICALLY BEGGING HIM HERE

BC DEEP DOWN HE KNOWS THAT LWJ IS NOT GOING TO LEAVE

LWJ IS TOO GOOD OF A PERSON TO LEAVE SOMEONE IN DANGER

BUT WWX HAS NEVER FELT WORTHY OF THAT SORT OF SACRIFICE

HE’S ALWAYS BEEN WILLING TO DIE FOR OTHERS, SO HE’S TRYING TO CONVINCE LWJ TO LEAVE

BC WHAT'S IMPORTANT IS TAKING JGY DOWN NOT SAVING HIS OWN LIFE

Lwj looks him straight in the eye and shakes his head no for everyone to see

bc nothing will tear him away from wei ying, not again, not when he finally got him back after 16 long long years.

I AM IN PAIN

THE ANGUISH IN BOTH OF THEIR FACES IS KILLING ME

jgy: great! Next, please sheathe bichen

there's a slight twist to lwj's mouth as he sheathes bichen angrily

but he did it with no hesitation

the sound fx team really made the shing-clack sound of it very prominent here

i'm assuming to emphasize how lwj is briskly and willingly de-fanging himself in order to keep wwx alive

wwx: LAN ZHAN NO!

wwx pants a couple of times (bc lwj is putting himself in danger!!) and his beautiful beautiful face twists into a snarl

wwx: jgy, don't go too far.

jgy: is it too far for you already? next i even want hanguang jun to seal his own spiritual power by himself. what would you call that?

wwx's eyes widen like, no, no don't

and we get a shot of lwj who is the picture of grim resignation

he knows that as long as jgy has that garrote around wwx's neck, he will do anything he asks of him, anything at all

wwx protests but jgy just tightens the garrote

lwj sees that happening and immediately locks down his spiritual energy

(side note to say that i really like the sound effects and the motions they choreographed for the "locking of energy" thing here. It’s really cool)

wwx: lan zhan…

WWX'S EYES ARE BRIMMING WITH TEARS AND HE SOUNDS LIKE HE'S HOLDING BACK SOBS

lwj presses his lips into a firm line in response

THIS ALL IS GIVING ME ANXIETY AND KEEPING ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT

WHICH IS STUPID BC I ALREADY KNOW WHAT HAPPENS

BUT HERE I AM, FREAKING OUT ANYWAY

oh and now there's a convenient thunderstorm TO SET THE MOOD I GUESS??

jgy is like, hey guys let's move this inside so we don't get rained out. no worries, if you do what i say i totally won't maim and/or kill you

cut to inside the temple

creepy breeze? Check

eerie candle lighting? Check

highly contrasted cool colors vs warm colors? Check

jgy also likes his classic villain tropes, it seems i wonder if he and xy compared notes on that...

jl is sitting next to lxc, clutching his sword

meanwhile lxc keeps his eyes closed like maybe if i refuse to see what's happening, it'll make it not be happening!

Which, hey, we’ve all been there!

okay, maybe not this exact same scenario, but still! Totally a valid coping mechanism, probably.

and on the other side of the room we've got our boys sitting shoulder to shoulder against a pillar together

wwx: lan zhan, you don't have to do this. that year....you owe me nothing

Aka, it’s not your fault i died. You don’t need to atone for anything!!!

lwj takes in his words for a moment

lwj: i don't think i owe you.

he says it so seriously

wwx: so why did you do that??

lwj looks over to him

lwj: it's what i should do.

BC THEY'RE SOULMATES AND HE LOVES HIM

AND WWX SMILES THAT LITTLE PINCHED SMILE OF HIS

some mood-setting stuff happens

you know, creepy wind slamming open doors, blowing out candles, that sort of thing

oh, there's a knock on the door and FUCKING SU SHE APPEARS BC THINGS WEREN'T HORRIBLE ENOUGH ALREADY NOW WE GOTTA DEAL WITH HIS UGLY MUG TOO

huh, he's got an unconscious nhs with him

wow he just drops nhs on the ground like a sack of potatoes, rude

blah blah evil plotty exchange between evil master and evil subordinate blah blah

blah blah emotional confrontation between jgy and lxc that idc about blah blah

ugh gross now su she is approaching wwx and lwj and is talking to them all smugly condescending

i want to hit his face with a brick tbh

LOL

WWX AND LWJ ARE NOT AMUSED

wwx just rolls his eyes and lwj looks off to the middle distance bc this insect is not worth his time or attention lololol

god that chip in his shoulder that he's got for lwj is really getting annoying

ss: i just can't stand his attitude, as if he's better than everyone else!!

idk about “everyone else,” but he's definitely BETTER THAN YOU, YOU GREASY LITTLE COWARD

lol wwx gets offended on lwj's behalf (bc lwj has yet to acknowledge su she at all)

wwx: when did lan zhan say he was better than everyone else?

awwwwww!! lwj sneaks a glance at wwx when he starts to defend his honor. that's so cute!

wwx: iirc, in the great big book of lan fam rules, there’s one that says "don't be arrogant and prideful"

AND LOLOLOL MY BRATTY SON CONTINUES TO BE A BRAT OF A TEENAGER EVEN IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THIS DRAMA

jl: how do you know the principles of gusulan so well?!

wwx frowns all sulky and taps his nose adorably

wwx: i have transcribed it so many times that i memorized it.

jl: why did you transcribe the principles of lan??

WWX GETS ALL DEFENSIVE AND IS ARGUING WITH A TEENAGER WHILE THEY'RE BOTH BEING HELD HOSTAGE LOLOLOL

wwx: do you think it was my choice? that (and here he glances at lwj from the corner of his eye and lwj is side-eyeing him and it's hilarious) was my punishment

jl: shame on you!

he says it all haughty and adorably irritated and turns his head away sharply. it's GREAT

After that, wwx is going on about how lwj has had that indifferent expression on his face his whole life and he can't really help it, it’s not bc he’s snooty or whatever ss thinks

and he continues to blabber on in that way he does

ss gets all mad and moves to strike him with his hand

and quicker than a blink of an eye, lwj puts bichen (still sheathed) between wwx and ss

He glares at ss like, just try it, i dare you! and doesn't put bichen down until ss lowers his hand

i would like to point out that ss still relented to lwj even tho lwj HAS NO ACCESS TO SPIRITUAL POWER

BC SS KNOWS HE'S A WORTHLESS NOBODY AND LWJ COULD DEFEAT HIM EASILY EVEN WITHOUT HIS RENOWNED CULTIVATION SKILLS

as soon as ss backs off, wwx runs his mouth again, i love it

There’s a bit where wwx says, "i'm not afraid of death, i just don't want to die"

which i guess is some kind of word play in their native tongue? Idk

wwx goes on to explain it but idgi; either it doesn't translate well or i'm not bright enough to understand it, lol

anyway, this all culminates to ss drawing his sword to kill wwx for being annoying

BUT HE GETS INTERRUPTED BY JC'S EPIC ENTRANCE

ZIDIAN CRASHES OPEN THE DOORS AND SENDS SU SHE FLYING

WE GET SOME SHOTS OF POURING RAIN AND A BLOODIED UMBRELLA

A SHOT OF JC’S HAND WRAPPED AROUND SANDU

AND THEN AN OUT OF FOCUS SHOT OF HIM IN THE RAIN

FOLLOWED BY A SHOT OF THE FLOOR ON THE ENTRANCE WHERE WE SEE HIS SHADOW SLOWLY GROWING LARGER AS HE MAKES HIS WAY IN

THIS IS SUCH A COOL SCENE OMG

SLOW MOTION CASUAL SAUNTER ONTO THE SCENE

AHHH, SO COOL JC SO COOL

lwj does not look impressed lolol but you can tell wwx thinks it's pretty neat

(not that he'll ever admit it bc you never admit those sort of things to your little brother, LOL)

jl is so happy to see him!

jl: uncle!

jc: you're calling me now? you know how to call me now? why did you run away a while ago?

and jl looks away with that yeesh expression kids get when their parents start in on their scolding lectures

THIS ALL CRACKS ME UP BC IT'S NOT THE TIME OR THE PLACE FOR THAT SORT OF EXCHANGE

JC JUST BARGES IN AND STARTS TELLING OFF HIS NEPHEW LIKE THEY'RE NOT ALL TRAPPED BY AN EVIL MASTERMIND

oh here comes fairy AND WWX IMMEDIATELY CLINGS TO LWJ'S SHOULDERS

wwx: lan zhan!!

lwj calmly lifts his arm so wwx can cower behind his billowing white sleeve

LOL

jl is commanding fairy to bite ss and as wwx is cowering, he's ALSO encouraging fairy to bite ss

(which really just means that, while wwx will probably never get over his phobia of dogs, he might eventually be able to get used to fairy maybe)

lol ss goes running with fairy hot on his tail

then we cut to wwx who notices how he's clinging to lan zhan's outstretched arm and gets embarrassed

he gently pushes the arm down and gives it a pat and smiles bashfully at lwj

IT'S ADORABLE

fun fact, this scene is the reason i started watching the show, i saw a gifset of this little exchange here and was like, THAT'S AN ADORABLE SMILE ON THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BOY IN THE WORLD

IT’S SO CUTE HOW THAT THE GUY IN WHITE LET HIM HIDE FROM THE DOG LIKE THAT. I HAVE TO WATCH THIS NOW.

and now some henchmen try attacking jc and jc whips them away with zidian and is generally just looking AWESOME

then lxc warns him about the Evil Magic Music

so jc's solution to that is to grab a random sword with zidian and chuck sandu into zidian and then scrape the two swords together?? to block out the music with super irritating noise, i guess???

lol even lwj is wincing at the racket

you know what, i'm gonna ignore the weirdness of this makeshift solution and just enjoy how cool zidian looks

now jgy is monologuing at jc and it's boring

lol, wwx leans over to lwj while that's happening

wwx: seriously, he talks like xy

he is not impressed by it lololol

both jc and jgy hear him and give him a Look and wwx puts on an innocent face

jgy starts picking at jc's emotional wounds and complicated brotherly feelings

jc starts getting defensive and snappish

lxc: don't answer him. he's good at talking.

so at least lxc is learning from his mistakes here, that’s good!

jgy switches tactics and starts in on wwx and his complicated brotherly feelings

but wwx responds with, hey man, i already know jc hates me so that isn't gonna work

oooooh, now jgy is revealing how he heard that jc was running around lotus pier asking ppl to unsheathe suibian

wwx's eyes get all wide and surprised

he throws a desperate look at lwj

wwx: my sword? didn't i give suibian to wn??

lwj doesn't answer but wwx realizes that he hasn't seen wn carrying suibian lately

and he starts frantically asking lwj how suibian ended up with jc and why the heck would jc ask others to draw suibian

wwx: has he drawn it by himself??

pretty sure he knows the answers to all those questions and is basically asking lwj to tell him his suspicions aren't correct

lwj: wei ying, calm down

jgy notices wwx's reactions and pushes on bc he's found a weak spot and he's def gonna exploit it

he's like, oh yeah, i also heard you were able to draw suibian from its sheath, jc

wwx's face is full of dread as he realizes what happened

he starts blinking back tears and he's getting all shaky bc this is his nightmare unfolding before him

FUCKING JGY NEEDS TO SHUT UP

HE'S DREDGING UP ALL OF JC'S INSECURITIES, AIRING THE YUNMENG BROS TRAUMA FOR ALL TO SEE

I WANT TO THROTTLE HIM

he gives jc a sarcastic bow and keeps picking at those wounds

wwx jerks forward as if he was going to try to shut up jgy, but lwj holds him back bc honestly, what was wwx going to be able to do anyway?

jc staggers back as if physically wounded

wwx's eyes are red with tears bc this was never supposed to happen

AND I'M JUST HURTING SO MUCH FOR MY YUNMENG BROS

jgy chooses this moment to attack and now we have a sword fight

we get a shot of lwj and wwx here

wwx is squirming in his seat like he wants to intervene but knows that he can't

Lwj is keeping a close eye on wwx, ready to stop him the moment wwx tries to sacrifice himself for jc (again)

in the middle of their fight, jgy suddenly flings his sword right at lwj!!

lwj tries to raise bichen but it's not gonna be quick enough

jc sees this and dives towards lwj and manages to block the sword

lwj looks at him in shock, which is understandable bc jc doesn't even like him

he could've totally just let that sword slice him in two and been guilt-free bc hey he's in the middle of a life or death battle himself, you know?

but he didn't! he took the time to protect lwj

For his efforts, he gets wounded (like mortally wounded) and now he has another reason to hate lwj lol

Anyway, jc can't do much now except channel all his spiritual energy into the wound so he doesn't, yknow, DIE

wwx is watching him with worry

here comes su she, all bloodied up

lol looks like fairy was able to tear into him a bit. what a good doggy!!

now i guess the henchman were able to finish digging or whatever, WATCH HOW MUCH I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT NONSENSE

Let’s check in on our boys instead

wwx and and lwj share a look

and all i can think is omg look at how close their hands are, if they each shift just a couple inches they'd be holding hands!!

LET MY BOYS HOLD HANDS

But no, we're going to have an emotional discussion instead

wwx: did you know about it?

lwj gives a very reluctant nod

wwx: when did wn tell him?

lwj: while you were knocked out

also omg they're having this conversation and jc is literally only 3ft away

HE CAN HEAR YOU GUYS, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?

wwx: that's how we left lotus pier??

lwj: wn is very sorry about that

look at lwj being a bro and sticking up for wn!

wwx: i've told him time and again to never speak of it

jc: never speak of what?

and here they seem to realize that yeah, hello, everyone can hear their conversation

they look at jc all surprised

*facepalm* guys, guys, i get that you both get a little wrapped up in each other sometimes, but c'mon

AND THAT'S THE END!!

SO INTENSE, SO STRESSFUL

But we still got quality times with our boys, and some fun times with jl and jc, so i guess that evens the scales!

Return to Masterpost

#WangXiantics #wangxian #the untamed #cql

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aliceslantern · 5 years ago

Text

Retribution, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 7

Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?

Post KH3 and Re:Mind, Zemyx

Chapter summary: Ienzo tries to come to terms with his and Demyx's newfound connection, on top of continuing to strengthen his magic.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

On a purely literal level, this was all so… bizarre. Not only was it physically and emotionally jarring, but there was also the not-so-minor fact that the object of his attraction was Demyx. This had to be in part--he thought (did he hope?) because he was Ienzo. Zexion would never put up with this.

(Or would he, had he felt such things earlier? Then again, Zexion couldn’t feel--that was the difference between his selves, wasn’t it?)

It didn’t help that this all was a fantastic way to silence the noise of his various ongoing existential and identity crises, considering they constantly invaded when he wasn’t at work.

Stranger still, to have things to look forward to other than some form of self-sacrifice for the greater good. The greenhouse became a neutral space, a created space, where he could shed his masks and simply be , and feel. Ienzo suspected Demyx may do the same.

For a while after that kiss, their touch was purely chaste. The handholding became embracing, became true cuddling, something he hadn’t experienced since he was a very small child, and truly this was much different than that, though innocent in its own way. To simply hold and be held overwhelmed him, and often he found himself shaking, his skin unused to contact. They would sit against one wall, Ienzo in Demyx’s lap, leaning against his shoulder. His smell was comforting, grounding. Sometimes they would talk, but often they just sat in silence, absorbing one another almost with embarrassment.

“...This feels nice,” Demyx said. He was stroking Ienzo’s hair, and Ienzo wondered if this was how cats felt when they purred, though no noise left him.

“I’m afraid it’s through no effort of my own. My hair simply does what it wants. I gave up wrangling it years ago.”

He laughed a little, and Ienzo could feel it. “No. Sitting here like this.”

“It… is.” He felt the blood rush to his face. “Touch can be… incredibly reassuring. At least for humans.”

“It’s like my skin is thirsty.”

“...I know what you mean. As social creatures… we need people.” He scowled. “Much to my chagrin. It is entirely natural… and wholly irritating.”

Demyx laughed again. “You even resent things that feel good?”

“...I resent feelings in general. I do so wish I had control over them.”

“Turn them on and off at will?”

“Mostly off, but quite. Or at least… lower the volume.” He wrinkled his nose. “After so much numbness this is almost more than I can take. My heart is quite literally a child’s. To suddenly be shoved into an adult mind and body… makes me feel so tenuous.”

“...I don’t know. I like you as you are.”

Ienzo looked up, pulling away just the slightest. “Why?”

He seemed genuinely startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why should you?”

He furrowed his brows. “I dunno… now that we’re not constantly sniping at each other, I can kind of see… the person peeking out underneath.” He touched his cheek. Ienzo shuddered; it had nothing to do with the content of their conversation. “You’re so--funny.”

This was the last word he expected Demyx to use. “Am I,” he said dryly.

“Witty. Thoughtful. Selfless.”

“No, no. Please. Fluff up my ego, why don’t you.” He scowled.

“Why are you so hard on yourself?”

“Why am I--” He sputtered. “All the things I’ve done--”

His eyes took on an intensity Ienzo had rarely seen. “Is in the past. As you keep saying.”

Ienzo had to look away. “Do you forgive yourself, for what you did?”

“I’m trying to.”

“I want to.” It was a revelation to himself. “But I… I don’t know how to let go.”

“Maybe settle for feeling first.”

Demyx had a point. All this tamping down and derailment of emotion was not going to make it go away . If he felt it--let it all come up--maybe he’d be in tatters, but there might just be something left underneath. Someone who could still do good. “You’ve become--painfully insightful,” he murmured. “I suppose you always were, and I was none the wiser.” Ienzo shook his head. “Where do you propose I start?”

He ran his thumb over Ienzo’s lower lip, a touch that brought with it another shiver. “I can think of one thing.”

Ienzo kissed him. It was easier this time than before, less awkward; they’d both caught on at this point. He felt Demyx’s hand on the small of his back and noted it, too, was shaking. To let this all in took conscious focus, an unraveling of the barriers which so far had kept him upright, functional. To melt and cede to his body and heart, rather than the mind and will.

It helped that kissing felt rather lovely. Demyx kissed back with more insistence, and Ienzo matched him, his hands reaching up to grasp at the blonde hair (softer than he would have thought?). He was breathing hard, a juddery, unstable sound. This was not a terrifying breathlessness. This might be something worth testing, experimenting with, all of the sensations breaking over him new and yet somehow so old. Genetic, the desire for this sort of thing, he figured in brief snatches of consciousness. People were wired for it. He let this impulse run, and it should not have felt so liberating to give into something for once, instead of his normal restraint. Ienzo ran his tongue along Demyx’s lip and heard the shallow--and not completely promising--sound of surprise he made. He pulled away. “I’m… sorry,” he said.

He was flushed. “Don’t be sorry.” He touched his mouth. “I just--”

“Should we set boundaries?”

The flush darkened, reaching his ears. Curious, the power Ienzo had in that moment, to make him feel that way--but a power used for pleasure instead of pain. Definitely something worth toying with. “I wasn’t expecting it… but I…” He seemed to make some kind of decision, and rather abruptly pulled Ienzo close again. He wondered if Demyx, too, was just trying to feel. This time he parted his lips, and let Ienzo in, and much like that first kiss it was awkward for a moment or so as they tried to learn. Ienzo’s hands, caught in the fabric of Demyx’s shirt, trembled. This was a deeper sort of pleasure, one that threatened to bleed into other places in his body, and the simple shock of this was enough to make him break away.

A normal result of such activity, he knew, but something completely unfamiliar to him. How interesting , to feel this, the flush and flood of his own hormones, so long hidden by quirks of Nobody biology. It made him feel warm, strangely vulnerable, but also free. Like a chick about to take its first flight.

“Are you okay?” Demyx asked. He was breathing hard.

“I was merely… taking a second to observe these feelings,” Ienzo said. “Do forgive me.” And kissed him again. He shifted his weight a little, so he was fully facing Demyx, thighs against hips. Hard to tell exactly with their clothing, but Ienzo was fairly sure he felt his--

It didn’t happen all at once, but he felt his own body reacting, hardening, and the shiver that passed through him was less pleasant than the last, this effortless freedom giving way to a pain of overstimulation.

“I… I’m afraid I have to stop here.”

“I… feel the same… I’m dizzy.” He sounded it. “I didn’t think--”

“It would feel like this?” They both said almost at the same time.

“It feels… good,” Demyx said. Ienzo pulled away from him, acutely aware of the new pressure between his legs. “But at the same time it’s almost like I can’t take it.”

“Too much too fast,” Ienzo agreed. He tried not to drop his eyes to his lap, to observe it. “Have you ever felt such things?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Felt--? You mean--?”

Embarrassed and glad for the curtain of his hair, he nodded.

Demyx cleared his throat. “Not that I can remember, at least with someone else,” he admitted. “But it’s not… so unfamiliar? I guess? The, uh.” Ienzo prayed he wouldn’t say it, but he did, rubbing the back of his neck. “Boner?”

He flinched. All of these terms so crass and inelegant. “What you said when we first kissed. Did you mean it?”

He furrowed his brows. “I haven’t gone off and gotten laid in the meantime, if that’s what you’re asking. Think I would lose my shit--not in a good way.”

“I just don’t know how cautious to be. That is.” He swallowed.

“How fast to take things?” Demyx offered. He nodded once. “Let’s play it by ear. Don’t think about it too hard.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Ienzo's ear. "But I'm definitely willing… to experiment with you."

The pressure worsened. "Can we change the subject?" He asked. "The more inconsequential, the better."

---

And it did feel like playing with fire. These feelings were quickly getting too large, too embodied. He wanted. Ienzo had longed to be an adult for so long; he'd never anticipated it having its own challenges. In his rare moments alone, he found himself fantasizing about such things, about what it might be like to touch and be touched, take and be taken. Completely normal thoughts to have, he knew logically, but at the same time, alien. Distracting, embarrassing. (Delicious.)

He never gave into the temptation to explore on his own, which he found odd given that would likely make things much more bearable. He tried to a few times, but the sight of his own body quickly caused self-consciousness to kill any longing. Easier to feel this way if he had someone else to focus on.

Not that it was all physical, between them, but it was easier to think that it was. He feared there may be something below it, the kissing and the joking, something new and startling. Why was it he felt more comfortable being himself around Demyx than around the men he’d known for ages, the ones who’d raised him? Especially those he’d forgiven so far?

Demyx was also familiar with facades.

This realization came to him as he was trying to sleep. Much in the way Ienzo had feigned maturity, stability, tamping down hard on emotions, Demyx had feigned stupidity, obliviousness, kept himself under the radar. Neither of them had been their true selves in a long time, and allowing those masks to fall aside only deepened the bond between them.

He could stop this, he knew, stop these budding feelings in their tracks, let it all be about sex, or what have you. But did he want that? It was no doubt bad for his mental stability, already tenuous enough as it was. Would it truly be so terrible, to bond with someone? To trust them?

(Then again, all the people he’d trusted had betrayed him, or been pulled away from him.)

Demyx was so flighty. Who was to say that he, too, wouldn’t leave Ienzo? Why allow vulnerability when it would only grant pain? He did not need yet more angst. In all this, after all, he still had a job to do.

It was so… grueling.

During one of these endless hours training, he’d actually had to sink to his knees, his chest splitting like he’d run a marathon. Ienzo tried to catch his breath, his fingers working along the fabric of the cover of his lexicon. The magic fought him hard. Of course it should; pursuing this was unnatural. But if he didn’t, what else could he do? Work and work in supposed “research” while nothing continued to be found? Despite returning to more-or-less a normal schedule, through gradual increases, nothing happened. If he had the power to make change, he was going to do something. No more sitting quietly in the background, refusing to dirty his hands.

The illusions refused to gather strength; they remained weak, flickery, intangible, no matter how hard he pulled or how much he tried to strengthen his other magics. Was this all he was really capable of?

Ienzo cried out in frustration and tossed the book. It splayed loosely on the stone floor of this room. A heat gathered in his face, equally from the embarrassment of losing control and a vague self-loathing.

Calm yourself. Focus.

He crossed his legs and shut his eyes, which were hot and ached. He tried to take deep breaths, focus on the way the air felt in his lungs. Calm, as ever Zexion was. Smooth, steady breaths. Let the memories run. Imagine how they may feel.

He pretended a patch of grass, so like the grass in the gardens he used to play in as a child. The smoothness of the blades against his fingertips, the coolness and dampness of dew. Keep breathing. Push the sensation outside of the body.

The first thing he thought was, it’s small. Maybe two meters square. He reached down and touched it, feeling that familiar dissonance of knowing this was fake and made, but at the same time, his own mind was fooled.

Perhaps the key was not using Zexion’s memories, but Ienzo’s. But there were so few of those--years he’d been too young to remember, and only some months since he’d been here again. How to gather data for use in his memory, and ergo illusion?

A stab of pain in his head shattered the illusion. He needed rest. “Zo… you look…”

Ienzo glared at Demyx, daring him to say something. He sat down weakly on one of the cushions. His body felt so heavy, despite the fact that he was fairly sure he’d lost weight. He'd been trying to keep up with his caloric intake, but the illusions seemed to require pure vitality.

“ Terrible ,” Demyx asserted, despite the harsh look. “Did you get any sleep at all recently?” He craned his neck a little, to get a better look at him. “And what are--” He brushed his fingers along the inside of his wrist. “You’re all bruised.” He grasped Ienzo’s hand and pushed the sleeve up farther, despite Ienzo’s efforts to pull away. Demyx was physically stronger than him; hauling packages would do that. “How--”

“I’m afraid you got a little carried away the last time we were intimate.”

Demyx shot him a look which indicated Ienzo was full of shit. “Those don’t look like hickies.” In the lamplight, Ienzo had to admit the bruises did look gruesome; they were small, perhaps the size of coins, splotches in random places all along his body. He was infinitely glad there were none on his face. They were just bruises--not darkness, as he’d initially feared. Some were already yellowing and fading away. Demyx handled his wrist gently, then grasped it; Ienzo realized he was trying to gauge if someone had grabbed him. The bruises were finger-sized, he realized, if a man had large hands.

“I was not in any fights, if that’s what you were wondering,” he said quickly. “I bruise easily--I always have. Must’ve knocked into something and not realized it.”

“These aren’t contact points,” Demyx said. His gaze was sharp. “Cut the crap. What really happened?”

He sighed. “I almost miss the days you pretended to be oblivious.”

“Ienzo.”

He huffed through his teeth--and gave him part of the truth. “I’m trying to strengthen my magic,” he admitted. “It was greatly weakened during my reformation. The… training is having odd effects on my body.”

“Because you’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said. “You work like a million hours during the day, and if you train at night--” He put a hand to his forehead. “Of course without sleep the magic is going to literally suck the life out of you.”

“Since when are you a medical and magical expert?”

Demyx scowled. “You know I listen to you guys when you talk, right?” He took both of Ienzo’s hands. “Zo. Please. You need to be easier on yourself. You don’t need magic right now.”

To his surprise, he felt tears in his eyes, tremulous and hot. “But I do.”

“Why? You were never a fighter.”

He had two options, each of which seemed equally arduous. He could tell Demyx the truth and force into the open his own recklessness; or he could lie and risk damaging the one bond he had. “I--”

He was almost funnily serious. “Ienzo.”

“I’m trying to get my power back.” Like opening Pandora’s box.

Demyx's eyebrows shot up; then he turned pale. " Can you?"

"It's coming back weakly--but it is coming back. It's simply exhausting. I wish to… use it to help Sora. I have power over memory, to see it--that's part of how I created illusions. If I can see the bond's of Kairi's heart…" He exhaled. Demyx didn't need to know of the inevitable price.

"Will it hurt you?"

"It's unclear." The closest his conscience would let him get to a lie.

"Ienzo--"

"This was my decision, Demyx. I want this. I wish to help, however I can."

He still looked worried. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

He was so exhausted. "You could hold me," he said.

Demyx touched his face. "Will you let Even look at you?"

Ienzo blanched. If Even found out--

"Or Aerith? She's a healer."

He hesitated. "That would be prudent, wouldn't it?"

"I could go with you."

"Perhaps… I could use the air…" He settled back against Demyx and felt him slip his arms around Ienzo's waist. Demyx took his bruised wrist gently and kissed along the marks, making him shiver. "That's nice."

"Why don't you nap for a little while?" Demyx asked. "I'll stay with you."

"Yes… maybe…" His eyelids were so heavy. "Fifteen… twenty minutes…"

"Just sleep."

Ienzo drifted.

When he woke, it was light out. He was wrapped in blankets and on a mattress of cushions. He'd slept hard, hard enough to not notice any of this, a rarity. There was a handwritten note by his head in Demyx's neat, painstaking writing--

Zo,

To be fair, I did try to wake you, but you just wouldn't. I would've stayed until you woke up, but I had to get to work. I left some ether and water for you. You should finish it.

Please get some rest. And don't be mad.

See you,

He groaned a little as he sat up. His head was pounding, though the drinks he'd been left helped. The worst of the bruises began to fade as the ether seeped into his system. He checked the time and felt his heart jolt; it was a little after noon, meaning he'd been unconscious close to sixteen hours.

He was late.

Ienzo groaned again, more in frustration than anything. Very well.

"Oh, Ienzo. So kind of you to join us," Even said, when he got there.

He ignored the barb and walked over to the computer, to pick up a tablet. "I thought I was working too hard," he said instead.

"Yet--you've again been stepping up your time here. Don't think I haven't noticed, boy."

He sighed. "I am very much well."

"That so."

"Yes," he said. "It is."

"I'm sure Ienzo had things he needed to wrap up," Ansem said diplomatically. "If you feel you are well enough to work, then you are. Yes?"

"Quite." He went over to Kairi. He'd done some reading recently, about ways to channel magic through touch; he wondered if this might help his floundering power. As casually as possible, he reached for her wrist, as if to take a pulse. Help me.

He tried to let his power feel for her; and to his shock and delight, he could sense her light reaching back, beckoning. She'd been waiting for this. He gave her hand one more gentle squeeze. I'll come back later, he thought, and hoped she got the gist of the sentiment.

He did, too, weathering another not-quite-argument of Even and Ansem's. Once they had finally, finally left for the day… he approached.

Kairi grasped at him with the same willingness as before. Ienzo shut his eyes. It was imperfect, weakened, painful, but he could see snatches of her memory--the island, the bright saturated color, days and days of playing in the sand and surf, adventuring as they may, and Sora--

Ienzo was abruptly thrown from her mind. His head was aching and he could scarcely breathe. Was Sora's disappearance to blame? Was he simply too weak? His nose was also bleeding rather heavily, and he thanked the stars he actually had a handkerchief with him. I'm sorry. I'm not yet strong enough.

She slept.

#retribution #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #kairi

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thealfanator · 7 years ago

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Dandelion’s Tales, Part 2 ~ Chapter 4

Another day. Another day trapped in this kind prison. Well, not trapped, but my only way back home is Dune, and he’s still nowhere to be seen! Reluctantly crawling out of bed, I dragged myself to get ready for the day ahead. My door handle stopped me for a brief moment, but it was enough. Fingertips hovering over the metal. Standing there for so long, paralysed, wondering what the day would present to me. Would it be kind? Or would I be in for a shit time with Tugna constantly breathing down my neck? Where was Dune? Where the fuck was Hunter? I felt like I had been tricked into a false sense of security, as if there was something going on here that I didn’t understand. I closed my eyes firmly and grasped the handle, the familiar sensation flooding back to me. I almost plucked the surface, hoping it would make that familiar twang of a lute string. Sighing; disappointment oozing from within me once again, I built the courage and pushed.

It was dark this morning. Thunder shattered over the village, smothering us, enclosing us. I strapped my crimson on tight in defence from the bitter wind and the shards of rain that seemingly pierced my eyes and my skin. Exiting the building, I tried to slowly close the door behind me, but the fickle gusts took care of that for me – smashing shut violently as if everything I touched turned against me. I struggled my way to the medical ward; Tugna, that filthy coward, was only on duty in the evening, so hopefully... hopefully…

“I wish to enter, please.” I pleaded in a tone too similar to the weather. “I need to see someone.” Two guards stood either side of the small, battered wooden door. One looked half asleep whilst the other looked as if he’d just been struck with lightning; vigilant and alert. He was the one who replied from underneath his cold, unmoving face.

“Dune, is it?” he spat, “Yes, we’ve heard, and no, you cannot.” He mocked me. I saw his tiny smirk from underneath his cracked lips. He tried hard to retain his guard-like tone, but there was no denying he found satisfaction in my disappointment.

“Why not?” I growled.

“What does it matter? You’re not coming in, either way. Now, shoo.” He treated me like I was dirt under his shoe, or an unwanted pest at his feet. I was powerless. Everybody here was siphoning my rights. What was going on down there?

Time to put an end to it. Furious, I marched further down the village, following the well-trodden path through wooden houses and to Cebri’s main ‘headquarters’, I suppose. She was the leader here, and I was told this is where she spends most of her time. Gradually approaching, I stared eagerly at the hut. It was identical to the others. The roof was thatched with straw, and uneven logs supported the exterior. It was a tiny, just like the others. How come a village so penniless be so secure, and so overprotective with rules? Two identical looking guards stood at the entrance to the door, as if the two I had just met had quickly ran to my destination as an act to amuse me; like a play, I being the audience.

“I want… need to see Cebri.” I hissed to the guard. By this point, I had had enough. I was getting in there.

“I’m sorry, Mister…” he stared innocently at me. I filled in my name. “Mister… Dandelion, but Cebri is currently indisposed.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Maybe what I was about to do was out of line, but cutting the rope between Dune and I was too out of line. Grabbing a tuft of an old woman’s hair, I held her in front of me and threatened to use violence. Staring, piercing the guard’s eyes, I shouted.

“You will let me see her, or I will do something I am almost certainly going to regret!” I lied. Or was I? Would I really do what was necessary to get what I wanted? Others had started to gather round. By this point, a second version of me had materialised beside me, a blue essence fading around it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said, oddly calm and in a ghostly tone.

“I need to see my friend.” The real me replied. His expression remained the same, as if no remark could ever surprise him.

“Does he really mean that much to you? What’s stopping you from making your own way back to Novigrad, Hmm?” I scoffed. I wouldn’t survive an hour, unless I wrote the creatures of the forest a poem to bore them as I snuck away.

“Don’t be so ridiculous!”

“What about Hunter? He seems well-equipped to take you-“

“Will you shut up?!” I took a knife from my pocket and threw it at my own apparition. He disappeared. What remained was me standing here grabbing this poor woman, the guards staring – startled, and the non-existent knife I just threw dissipating with a bluey hue.

My body was possessed by this horrific act, like some other person was controlling my actions like some sort of nasty puppet, grasping by limbs by threads of string. I was twisted. I almost let her go and apologised, but no – I had to get my point across. I held her tighter as she squirmed in my arms.

“Alright, alright. Fine. Let her go!” he said. I did so. I let the poor woman go and she threw me a sharp glare, running off wildly. I was as relieved myself as the others around me. “Cebri!” the guard called monotonously. She opened the door and hushed me inside, eyes of fire. Turns out guards were liars too. I tried to hold my head up high, but the eyes glued to me weighed me down and I hung my head in shame.

“What in the world was that?” she hissed at me. I took a seat, which consequently shook the ground as it creaked beneath my force.

“I’m sorry.” I said weakly, “I just needed to get your attention.”

“And what for, huh? Go on! What do you want?” She stood in the darkest corner of the room, yet her furious expressions were light as day.

“I need to see Dune. Why can’t I see him?” As soon as the words slid from my tongue she turned away, like she was trying to hide something. Her wrinkles cracked under her slow movements whilst she hiked carefully to the strategically placed bureau in the corner of the tiny room.

“I’m afraid-“

“That I cannot see him. Yes, yes, I’ve heard it too many times.” I interrupted. “Listen,” I continued, leaning forward in my chair, “the last time I saw him, he had a stab wound in his side, with him screaming into my ear in agony. I sat beside him, worried shitless for his safety. I came with him to this place and my only way home is with him, so effectively, without him, this naïve village is really a prison!” I shocked the room silent after my raised voice, like the calm after a storm.

“Dandelion, I can assure you he is safe in the medical ward.” She said quickly, tossing her words across the battleground beneath our feet. She was stern like a rock in a wild sea, and I was the ship; buckling under the crashing waves.

“Right, then it’s time I left.” I didn’t want to speak to her anymore. I had had enough. She touched my shoulder softly; calmer than a few minutes ago.

“Don’t do what you did on your way in, or you’ll soon regret it.” Her remark jabbed sharply up my spine. A clear warning. All heart-warming words she had spoken to me before had gone out the window. Our relationship was dissolved. I walked out of the room.

Hunter came back from his trip. He walked heavily through the entrance, with sweat on his brow – with people huddled around, occasionally patting him on the back in thanks. Others wandering nearby, watching from a distance. He had a rack of animals bouncing lively at his chest, yet as lifeless as the darkness – cold and absent. You could almost choose from them; so many corpses. I caught him as he walked my way.

“Hunter.”

“Ah, Dandelion. How are you?” I ignored his question.

“I need a favour.” My voice dissolved into a whisper. He stopped, gazing at me more seriously than before. “I need you to distract Tugna somehow this evening.”

“You are not planning to sneak in tonight?” he returned, in a further hushed voice, shocked at my request.

“I just need a distraction. That filth of a man will do anything in his path to stop me, and I need him out of the way.” He stared into the distance for a long time, juggling decisions.

“Fine. He won’t be guarding the door tonight, and neither will the other guard.”

“Thank you!” He grabbed my arm firmly.

“Be careful. I will only help you this once. If you get caught, things won’t end well for you.”

“I understand. I just need to know that Dune is alright. Thanks again.”

***

And that’s when I did it. I waited until silence was all I could hear – no voices, no movements – then I carefully slid the key on the desk into my hand and went to the wooden, frail door. It unlocked cleanly with a satisfying click. I placed the key back down on the table; I wasn’t going to be long.

Bracing the midnight air, I walked on the grassy plain; scared and vulnerable. Although it wasn’t strictly forbidden to be outside this time, if I went into the medical bay, there would be “serious consequences”. I had to be in and out before anyone noticed. Hunter did the favour, thankfully. The entrance was naked, unguarded. Breathing a sigh of relief, I swiftly entered, glancing behind me.

The dark, dismal room stank the same stinking smell as the last time I entered. The last time I saw Dune. However, something was different. Something I couldn’t put my finger on until I stabbed my palm over the bottom of a waxed candle, and shoved it in front of my face for better view. The room was empty. The beds, unused. Silence larger than anyone could imagine. The murky stench of disease and death blended with the clean sterilization of all surfaces. A clean morgue. Disguised. Only my footsteps occupied the desert of a place. Nothing. Desperately looking around for the door to the small room Dune was supposedly in, I became more and more aware of my trespassing. My heart beat faster with every step I made, and sweat called at my forehead, complementing my anxiousness. There it was. The door. A few days ago, an injured Dune had entered this room, with I next to him and an almost fatal stab wound, and now I stood in front of it, the ominous steel handle begging me to open it. I don’t know how long I was standing there. I was paralysed by fear….

As the hinges screamed and the smell of blood oozed into my nose, like a coin on your tongue – the tang, like a knife stabbing your senses, I entered. Using the candle I held in my shaking hand, I saw it. Dune wasn’t there. He wasn’t in his bed. It looked like a scenario from a hideous fairy-tale. He had vanished. All that had remained was a bed and a wooden desk, both drenched in blood. The white marble floor faded to a deep red, the operating utensils equally stained. The bed in the room was vacant; the only entity sitting there was a thick red puddle. I retreated from the room, almost vomiting on the floor. I was appalled. Sickened. Where the fuck was he? What is this? This is messed up. Something caught my eye before I considered running as far as possible from the room. A leather-bound book. It was as though it glowed in the darkness, as if I was meant to pick it up. And I did. It almost pulsed in the palm of my hand. I opened it.

It was gibberish. It was all nonsense. What was I supposed to do with this? Shapes and circles and demonic symbols scrawled the parchment with thin reckless lines. Illegible notes… were they even notes? They were nothing. There was nothing except for lines drawn by some sort of maniac. I collapsed the book in frustration and rushed my way to the steep marble steps as quickly and quietly as I could.

I reached my chambers, unseen. As least I thought I was unseen. I found out as I properly entered. I closed the door behind me and grabbed for the key. Nothing. What? The key was gone. Replaced was a small slit of parchment, a note. It read, “You shouldn’t have done that.” My breathing stuttered. My shaking hand put the note down. No, I burnt it in the fire. I couldn’t let anyone see it. Reaching for my bed, the air still as silent as ever, I lied down and struggled to pry my eyes closed. I didn’t sleep that night, paralysed from a simple note. Someone knew.

---

Hello! I hope you have had a good week, and that nothing has been too stressful. I must thank you for reaching the end of this chapter; even one person just considering reading this is enough. I am incredibly grateful for the interest you give, from the beginning: The Cold-Hearted Thief, all the way up to now. Please, I’m open to feedback. Let me know. Take care! :)

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ajasgf · 7 years ago

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this is awful. please don’t hate me. i know i can do better than this. i wrote this so long ago and never posted it but you asked so here it is. please don’t laugh.

Sharon tugged her coat around her frame even tighter, shielding herself from the forest wind. On a moss covered tree stump to her left laid the holy book; her only downfall. She took the lighter from her pocket and set it ablaze, watched as the flames danced above the metal, twisting in the breeze. Her smile brighter than the small inferno.

Her hand reached for the book, turning pristine pages between her fingertips. She found her way to Leviticus and tore the paper from the binding jaggedly, throwing the book down hard in front of her. With a lighter poised right under the discarded pages, she watched the world burn.

Section by section, Sharon destroyed the book, ashes catching on her coat and in her hair. Never had she felt more divine. “If I cannot move Heaven,” she thought, “I will raise Hell.”

Her cackle echoed through the forest as she threw the ashes into the wind. Nothing left of a creator. For a moment, she let herself pretend that she was free.

_____________

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. The wanting for a girl has overcome me. Please, I beg you to make me forget soft thighs and painted lips. I have prayed and praised you before all else. I want to be perfect for you. I don’t know what more I can do. Are you listening?”

Tears poured down Alaska’s cheeks, harsh sobs wracking her body. Her attempts to be silent had long been abandoned. Already on her knees, she crumpled further into the floor of the cathedral, grasping her chest hard enough to feel the sharp indents of her crucifix against her palm.

Alaska could feel the moonlight flooding through the stained glass windows, bathing her in a soft glow. Her hair splayed out around her, messy blonde locks contrasting against dark tile. Her cries sounded like drums through the church, drowning out the tapping of high heels against cement.

Noticing a shoe in her line of vision, Alaska threw herself even further into the floor. “I’m sorry, Sister! I know I shouldn’t be out of bed but I had to come and confess! I had to,” she cried, voice breaking with the shaking of her body. She had been hit by the nuns once before and the bright red scar still stood out on her pale skin.

“Hey,” came a soft, feminine voice from behind her. Nothing like the harsh tone most of the nuns possessed. A hand touched her shoulder gently and Alaska raised into a kneel, peering through a curtain of tangled hair.

“Hey,” Alaska heard again. She turned to face the figure behind her, a girl adorning the tightest and shortest black dress Alaska had ever seen. It stopped high on her thighs, exposing creamy skin and seductively long legs. Alaska glanced down at the girl’s stiletto heels before meeting her eye.

The girl ran her hand along Alaska’s shoulder comfortingly, her sharp nails caressing the skin. Alaska couldn’t help but stare at her. Long black hair cascading down her back in loose ringlets, bright blue eyes and blood red lips. Alaska could have sworn that she, herself, was temptation.

The girl smiled down at her, continuing to run her hands over her shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked. Alaska stared, wide eyed.

“I’m not going to tell anyone that you were here. Neither of us are supposed to be out right now. Come with me. My room is right down the hall.” She extended her hand to Alaska, black nails glinting in the light.

Alaska stood with her help, wiping violently at the tears under her eyes. She felt blood in her palm from the sharpness of her crucifix. Before she could take a good look at the cut, she was pulled down the eerily quiet hallway of the cathedral.

A few doors down from the confessional were the unused dorms. Alaska couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone with a room in this place. All of the girls slept in a building across the campus in two lengthy hallways, connected to a bathroom and a small living area. As far as Alaska knew, no one had ever slept this close to the church.

Alaska felt herself being pulled into a room, the door shut softly behind her. She sat on the small bed, watching as the girl rummaged around in a bedside drawer for a second before turning to Alaska.

“I’m Sharon,” she said, taking Alaska’s hand in her own and inspecting the cut from the crucifix. She wiped away the excess blood with her finger, placing a bandage over the wound and securing it tightly. “That’s better. Those goddamn necklaces hurt.” Alaska gaped at her choice of words and Sharon smiled. “And who are you, princess?”

“My name’s Alaska,” she conceded, blushing lightly at the nickname. With her sitting and Sharon standing, her eyes landed on Sharon’s scantily covered breasts. Alaska tore her eyes away violently.

“What was a pretty girl like you doing crying in the confessional at night?” Sharon smirked, placing a clawed hand over her round hip.

“That’s none of your business!” Alaska exclaimed.

“Oh, I know it’s not. But how could I just ignore a beautiful girl looking so vulnerable?” Sharon’s smile was intoxicating as she sat down next to Alaska on the bed.

“I was confessing. I always come at night.” Alaska studied her hands in her lap, refusing to meet Sharon’s eye.

“Why is that?” Sharon placed her hand on Alaska’s thigh and Alaska jumped, shifting a few feet away.

“I can’t risk the other girls hearing. I need more forgiving than they do.”

Sharon crossed her legs at the ankles, turning to face Alaska while still respecting the space she had set between them. “And how are you supposed to forgive yourself when you place all of your faith in a man in the sky?”

Alaska scoffed. “I don’t need my own forgiveness! I need his before all else!”

Sharon’s lips crooked upwards in a sad sort of smile. “What if your God isn’t here, Alaska? What then?”

Alaska stood up abruptly, her Sunday school shoes slamming against the floor. “There’s no way! There is no way that He isn’t here! None of us would be here if he hadn’t died for us!” Alaska replied on reflex and reached for the door handle. “I’ll be leaving now. Goodnight!”

Before she could turn the handle, Sharon called after her softly. “Where will you go, darling? The dorms are all the way across the courtyard. You’ll have to walk past the nuns’ block.”

“I got here on my own, I can leave on my own! I know how to slip through the forest!”

“It’s nearing three am. You know the nuns get together nightly to pray. It’s safer to stay.”

Alaska scowled, hating the fact that Sharon was right. She sat back down on the bed, turning away from her. But she wasn’t hesitant to talk.

“How couldn’t you believe in a God? This world had to start somewhere. We didn’t just come from nothing. There is a creator and he loves us, Sharon. I know it.”

Sharon sighed. “If God created this world, how can he stand the sight of himself? If we are created in his image, can we really trust him? How is there someone who claims to be a beacon of hope when war and poverty affect so many? How can someone who truly loves His creations let six million people be violently tortured and slaughtered for their religion? How can He love us when He lets us be murdered? Did it hurt less after His first child was killed? Is He desensitized now? Does He even care? I don’t want a God. Give me something I can destroy.”

“Of course He cares,” Alaska cried. “The hardships He puts up through it to make us stronger! He’s making us more worthy of his love.”

“That doesn’t explain senseless killing, princess.” Sharon laid out across her bed on her back. “What about the old testament? You all just pretend like it doesn’t exist, like your God wasn’t angry or spiteful. You call Him a savior after he flooded the world. You call Him a hero after He killed more people than anyone else in the Bible ever did. And you say He is love when he condemns people like me to the pits of Hell. There’s no love in wanting to see your own children burn.”

“What do you mean, people like you?” Alaska questioned.

“Women who love women, Alaska. We’re monsters in his eyes.”

Alaska sits quietly, shocked into silence. She thinks about her own breakdown at the altar of Christ. She thinks about the countless days she has tried to force herself to forget wanting a girl’s lips on her own.

Sharon notices her lack of retaliation. “I heard you, Alaska. And I heard my mother when she called me the devil and sent me away. I heard the priest when he tried to beat it out of me. I heard the nuns when they locked me away. If that’s what God wants for me, he is the sickest of them all.”

Alaska continued to sit in silence. She curled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on top of them. Sharon took this as her resign, covering Alaska in a blanket from the bed and turning out the light to catch the two hours of sleep left before they had to be in class.

_____________

Alaska snapped awake, rubbing her eyes. She immediately noticed that she wasn’t in her own room. No, there was too much black to be anything like the pristine white room she shared with her dormmates. Her blurry vision locked on the girl standing in front of her. Sharon.

She rubbed Alaska’s shoulder, placing a clean uniform skirt and blouse down on the bed. “I woke you up awhile ago, but you went back to sleep. You were too cute to disturb and you looked like you needed rest. Class starts soon. You can take my uniform.” Alaska was about to ask what Sharon would do for clothing until she eyed the short latex dress she was wearing.

Sharon noticed her perplexed look and laughed. “I don’t go to your kind of classes, Lasky. I get to sit in a room with a priest for hours while he drones on about my need to repent. He despises me as it is. This dress isn’t going to hurt any more than my very lesbian presence does.”

Alaska blinked a few times, her mind catching on the nickname. Lasky.

Sharon turned to slide into her plumb heels, dabbing at her crimson lips with the pad of her finger. She smiled down at Alaska. “Get changed. Wouldn’t want the good girl to be late for morning prayer.”

Alaska blushed, picking up the clothes next to her on the bed. She eyed Sharon wearily, looking from the skirt and blouse to her own body.

“I won’t look. Contrary to popular belief, sapphic women aren’t the predators they try to make you think we are. No matter how pretty you are, that’s disrespectful and I’m not going to treat you like a piece of meat. Now, get dressed.” Sharon faced away from Alaska, adjusting her dress in the mirror and running her fingers along the crystals that lay at the bottom.

“Okay,” Alaska replied meekly once she had finished and Sharon turned.

“I’ve never seen anyone make a church school uniform look cute,” Sharon flirted. Alaska blushed heavily and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob.

“Wait!” Sharon called. “Can I see you again? No tears this time.”

Alaska hesitated at the door, shocked into thought. She nodded quickly and rushed out into the hall.

Goddamn pretty Christian girls, Sharon thought.

_____________

In class, the nuns spoke of homosexuality. The entire week had been dedicated to Leviticus and Alaska found herself sitting uneasily, trying to push away thoughts of dark hair and a sinfully tight dress.

What if she had wanted Sharon to watch her as she changed that morning? How big of a sin was it to want to see her, too? Alaska wanted to touch her. Wanted to feel those long, long legs wrapped around her head. She could feel a slight dampening between her legs and it petrefied her. She needed to get out.

“Miss Thunder!” The nun roared. “What could possibly be so important that you are not being attentive to my lecture?”

“Nothing, Sister. Nothing is more important. I just think I may be getting ill.” Alaska lied. She needed to get away before someone noticed the slight squeezing of her thighs.

“Very well. You are excused to your dorm and I fully expect you to read over the passage tonight and be here tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Sister. Thank you, Sister.” Alaska rose from her seat in a hurry, clutching her Bible tight to her chest and exiting the room.

_____________

Alaska avoided her dorm. She loved the six other girls she shared with, but she needed to be alone. She found herself in the forest.

Reaching out to brush her fingertips against each tree, Alaska wandered deep into the woods, lost in thought. Was God listening? How could she still be fantasizing about her hand in the hand of another girl when she had been begging on her knees for so long? Why could she hardly resist the urge to touch Sharon when she had fasted, had prayed? Was He out there? Did He want her to feel like this?

It was Katya who found her.

“Oh! Alaska!” her dormmate cried happily.

“What are you doing here?” Alaska asked after turning to face the thick Russian voice behind her. Alaska liked Katya most of all. She didn’t speak the best English, but it was endearing to Alaska. Broken syllables and forgotten words.

“This is where I kiss Trixie! Secret!” Katya looked breathtakingly happy as she mimed the zipping of her lips.

Alaska’s face cracked. So, the rumors were true. She shook her head lightly to clear it.

“Aren’t you scared?” Alaska asked meekly.

“No,” Katya smiled. “Trixie is smart. We don’t get caught. We are hiding. Sometimes, I see witchy girl here but she just smile at us. She is only one.”

Witchy girl. Sharon.

“You aren’t afraid of Hell?”

“Not at all! I don’t believe your God. He can’t hurt me if he is not real.” Katya looked confused as to why Alaska was asking.

“Then why are you here? You’re aware that this is a Catholic school, right?”

“Because parents sent me here. They do not think like I do.”

“Does it bother you? The preaching?” Alaska questioned.

“No, because I know they are wrong. I love who I love. In Russia, they do this, too. But no one tell me what to do. Girls are soft, pretty. I like them.” Katya beamed.

Alaska cleared a spot on the ground of leaves and sat down. “How did you know?” She asked.

“That I don’t believe God?”

“No, that you liked girls?” Alaska kept her gaze locked on the forest floor.

“Oh, easy!” Katya exclaimed, sitting down next to her. “Girls are nice! Boys’ mouths are rough. They take, don’t give. Girls care about you, too! They kiss you and play with hair and their smiles are pretty! Trixie has pretty smile. And she cares for me, too! So I care for her!”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes. She is good to me. We are good to each other.” Katya looked up at the sky, blissfully lost in thoughts of Trixie.

Alaska picked at her nails, worn down from years of anxious biting. “Will she be here?”

“Soon. We come everyday for few hours before night to talk and read and kiss. You want us to find somewhere new?” Katya moved to sit closer to Alaska.

“No, this is place is yours. I just came to think.” Alaska looked down as Katya took her hand in her own.

“Alaska, you need help? You like girls, too? It can be scary here.”

Alaska tore her hand away like Katya had burned her. She stood quickly, only stopping when she saw the hurt in Katya’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know, Kat. I don’t know.”

“That okay, Alaska.” Katya got to her feet. “You going home? You like me to walk you?”

“No, that’s fine. Stay here and wait for Trixie. I’m going to go try to rest for awhile. Thank you.”

Alaska tensed slightly as Katya hugged her before relaxing into the embrace. “It okay. They don’t tell you what to do.”

“Thank you.” Alaska wiped at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Goodnight, Kat.”

“Goodnight, Alaska.” Katya waved as Alaska walked away.

_____________

Alaska hadn’t left her room in four days. Her thoughts were consumed by Sharon and the shame that came along with it left her sick.

#alaska is literally the weakest little bitch in this #i'm so sorry #i know a girl exactly like this i just based it off of her #i have other fics that also aren't good and also aren't finished

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