#that or start fist fighting my really short attention span for working on a single drawing

[prettymediocrewizard]

going to start gaslighting myself into making/finishing more illustrations by telling myself 'ooo but what if there's a monster fan project one day!' because given my ability to complete my own projects I will just keep drawing quick sketches for eternity (:°з」∠)

[jishyucks]

Dollarstore Mistletoe ‣ ljn

‣ genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers, female reader

‣ wc: 2.7k

‣ summary: Jeno looked up at the mistletoe then at you, cheeks heating up from the situation. So that’s why Hyuck had mistletoe. 

this was going to be a short blurb but sike... enjoy!

-

You sat at the corner of the room, eyes drawn nervously at Donghyuck who was holding a tied up bunch of mistletoe in his hand. Though he was tossing it to himself, you could already read his mind from across the room. He had a sly smirk on his face as he glanced between you and Jeno who chose to sit between Jisung and Chenle.

Donghyuck, I fucking swear. You texted him, eyes growing wide in a subtle warning once he looked back up at you. 

He laughed out loud before texting you back, I’m not doing anything.

Not rn but ur going to.

He loved going over to your place just to tease you about your (apparent) undying love for Jeno, constantly pushing you to make a move because Jeno was a ‘giant wuss’ and ‘would not grow balls to do so himself’ while you ‘had potential’. And honestly, you weren’t sure what to believe when it came to Donghyuck. He was a trickster. Who knew if he was lying this time or not. 

You could easily recall maybe a week back when you were hanging out with this pest of a boy. He had been spontaneously mustering up a plan to get you and Jeno to kiss underneath some fake mistletoe he could find at the dollar store, which could then lead to confessing. 

“Please don’t. We’re not living in some rom-com, Hyuck,” you glared at him, hoping that his ridiculous plan would be thrown out the window, “It’s not going to happen.” There was not a single bone in your body confident enough to kiss the boy you’ve held the longest crush on. Donghyuck was wrong when he said you had potential, meaning he could be wrong when it came to this plan he barely put effort into arranging.

“I know,” he replied simply, “But shit like this is inevitable.  Plus you’re forgetting that I have the brain of a mastermind.” You ignored the way he wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to persuade you, obviously failing. He knew he had to do everything himself, whether you liked it or not. Besides, he knew things you didn’t. He knew these plans were going to work. 

So now, here he sat at Jeno’s house, waiting for the perfect time to dangle the plant above you both. He already knows you had the capability to run if you saw him move even an inch towards you. You were probably as alert as those animals being preyed on on National Geographic, ears perked and everything. Your fight or flight response was already activated just because of him. 

As for Jeno, he was probably the complete opposite of you. He was leaning back on the couch with a delicate looking smile sitting on his face. Donghyuck was glad that he didn’t have a single clue about what was going on. But also... did he ever know what was going on?

A Christmas movie was playing on the TV even though barely anyone was paying any attention to it. Jaemin and Renjun were in the kitchen baking gingerbread cookies, following a recipe they found tiktok, while Jisung and Chenle were playing the nth game of PubG on their phones. Mark and Jeno were probably the only ones paying attention to the film, occasionally letting out a snort or giggle at a cheesy joke being delivered. Then there was you and Donghyuck, the only two aware of the plan that you didn’t even want to take part in. 

“Why are you holding weed?” Jisung finally lifts his head from his phone’s screen, brows furrowed at the mistletoe in Donghyuck’s hands. He pointed slightly towards them, arm falling to his side soon after. 

The older boy gave Jisung an unreadable look, “It’s not weed. It’s mistletoe.” Again, he tossed it up, barely grazing the popcorn ceiling before catching it. 

“Ohh~ like that Justin Bieber song!” Jisung pointed out. His attention was soon directed back to his phone, probably beginning another game alongside Chenle. Jeno glanced at the younger boy and just shook his head in adoration and slight genuine confusion. It seemed like he literally had no idea, no clue, why Donghyuck was holding mistletoe. This, again, was good news to Donghyuck. 

“Cookies!” Jaemin barged into the living room dressed in a holiday apron and oven mitts. He had flour sprinkled along his chest and collar bone, probably thrown on there by Renjun, who followed closely behind him. 

Like young kids, attention spans were cut off and brought towards the gingerbread cookies, its aroma soon flooding the room. Through the pride that Jaemin gave off while standing there, you already knew the cookies were good. Especially with the help of Renjun.

Ditching your tense position, you had completely forgotten of your silent duel with Donghyuck, hopping up from the couch and skipping over to Jaemin. The others followed you shortly, Jeno being the second there. 

Donghyuck pushed himself off the couch last, still playing with the mistletoe between his fingertips. Once spotting you standing directly next to Jeno, he stopped himself from audibly gasping and darted towards you both, holding up his arm above the space between the two of you, “Ah! Mistletoe~” 

Your heart dropped, hand physically letting go of the cookie. It plopped back onto the tray as you spun around to face Donghyuck and then to an equally thrown off Jeno. You wanted to beat yourself up for letting your guard down for cookies. 

Jeno looked up at the mistletoe then at you, cheeks heating up from the situation. So that’s why Hyuck had mistletoe. The math was mathing. 

Jeno took in what was happening. Even if it was so sudden, Jeno didn’t feel like resisting. Instead he stood there and tried to read the non-verbal cues you were showing, trying to figure out whether or not you would want to carry out this unexplained tradition. Your face seemed to express no emotion, though he figured you were deep in thought, trying to process what was happening. And that was exactly what you were doing.

“I told you not to,” you mumbled towards Donghyuck’s direction. The looks you were sending Donghyuck could be used as weapons in some other dimension, but in this one the most you could do was intimidate the boy. In a brief state of panic, assuming Jeno found this situation weird, you tried to leave the situation, avoiding Jeno’s gaze as you did.

“It’s tradition!” Donghyuck attempted to pull you back. He was trying to be Christmas Cupid, knowing that feelings were being exchanged without the other’s knowledge. He thought he’d be helping.

Jeno shook his head, “N-no, Hyuck, it’s fine… if Y/N doesn’t want to do it, we can’t force her.” He felt himself gulp, mostly from the subtle rejection he’d received, before quickly reaching for a cookie and fleeing the scene. 

Donghyuck turns to you, arm dropping to his side and mouth wide open, “He was going to kiss you!” 

For a second, you doubted Donghyuck, shaking your head. But then at the realization that Jeno had left the room in a rather disappointed state, you probably were wrong and for once, Donghyuck was right. But there was no way you were admitting that in his presence. 

It would’ve been completely silent if it wasn’t for the movie playing in the background. Everyone was still trying to process what had just happened, while you were still staring Donghyuck down. 

“Are you blaming me?” You gestured to yourself. Sure it could have actually been your fault but that really wasn’t good for your degrading self-esteem right now. 

“Yes,” Donghyuck threw the fake mistletoe onto the three seater couch, “It looked like you didn’t want to kiss the boy. You basically stomped on his heart.” Sure Donghyuck was over exaggerating but knowing how much Jeno liked you, you probably did. 

“No I didn’t,” you try to deny everything, not wanting your hopes to be crushed by false information and beliefs. 

“You did,” Mark butted in, “He looked like a kicked puppy.” You shifted your gaze from Donghyuck to Mark, someone who you could trust a bit more, and felt your frown deepen. Feeling yourself stumble back in the slightest bit, you glance at the stairs where Jeno had gone, probably to his room. Should you talk to him? 

“Just go talk to him,” Jaemin pushed on, as if he could read what you were thinking, “But take an extra cookie with you.” He held the tray of baked goods in front of you and you complied, slithering past Mark, Renjun, and Chenle before going up the stairs. 

You had no idea what you were going to tell Jeno. That you wanted to kiss him? That would come off as weird. 

The pair of cookies in your hands could be your conversation starter.

Upon reaching his door, you raise a fist to knock. 

If it was possible, Jeno would slap himself so many times just so he could knock some sense into himself. He was sitting at the edge of his bed with his palm to his forehead, feeling like an entire circus. Why the hell didn’t he even act like he was weirded out by Donghyuck and that fucking mistletoe? Why did he act like he was waiting for a long time for that opportunity to kiss you? 

Maybe because he was. But he should’ve at least pretended like he wasn’t.

Jeno threw himself back into his bed, blinking at the ceiling while he mentally attacked himself for being so foolish. How would he recover from this? He shouldn’t have ran out of the room like that. It made him so obvious. It gave away the feelings he hoped he had been hiding well the entire time. 

Jeno you’re so fucking stupid, he thought, teeth gritting. 

He clenched his fist and started to hit the middle of his forehead lightly with his knuckles, startled when he heard a loud knocking sound. 

Was that my forehead or was that the door?

Sitting up, he pivoted his head so that he was facing the door, brows furrowed as he waited for another indication that the sound was (hopefully) the door and not his skull. 

“Jeno, it’s me.” Your voice was muffled and your shadow could be seen through the bottom. 

For a second, Jeno hesitated, unsure if he was ready to face you at that moment, but he soon decided against it, standing up and towards his bedroom door in order to let you in. Opening it just a crack, he peeked out, seeing your shorter figure staring up at him, eyes slightly unreadable, “I brought cookies.”

Jeno couldn’t help but feel his chest warm up at the sight of you. He held back a smile to keep himself grounded. Pulling the door to create a wider opening, he let you in.

“Are you okay?” You knew he wasn’t okay. Just by the look in Jeno’s eyes, you could tell he had a lot going on in his head. You didn’t want to start the conversation off with ‘I actually wanted to kiss you too’ because in all honesty, anyone faced with that statement would be scared in one way or another, regardless of their feelings for the other. 

“I guess you can say that,” Jeno hummed and sat at the foot of his bed. You handed him one of the cookies and bit into the second one you brought. Jeno couldn’t even make eye contact with you. He was a smidge too embarrassed to do so. 

You sat next to him, the heat of your bodies bouncing off of each other from how close you were, “What do you mean?” You were drawing the conversation out while you still tried to run through what you were gonna say as your version of a confession. 

He shrugged, taking a small bite, almost a nibble, from the cookie, “I know you’re not stupid, Y/N… Donghyuck was painfully obvious and so was I.” Feeling his heart pick up its pace scared him. This only meant he could either lose total control of his words, or just not speak at all. He focused on keeping them tame, “I’m sorry you had to witness that. Just forget it happened, okay? Sometimes, Donghyuck doesn’t know he’s going overboard.” 

Jeno spoke softly, head dipping down and bangs falling over his eyes. The glasses he wore slipped down his nose as he did, but he quickly caught them with the tip of his index finger. 

“Donghyuck doesn’t normally pull shit like that unless he has to,” you say as a reply, “He somehow always knows things we don’t.” You hoped Jeno got the hint from what you were saying, but by the way he kept his attention at the cooling gingerbread cookie in his hand as he nodded, you knew that he was completely clueless. Were you being too subtle?

“Do you know why he decided to buy that plastic plant in the first place?” You took a bite from Jaemin’s cookie and swung your legs. 

Jeno shrugged again, “Because he’s Donghyuck?”

 You both let out brief chuckles but you regained your composure and sighed. From downstairs, you hear the others laughing at something, some background noise from the near silence in the room.

“Because he knows how I feel.” 

Jeno’s ears perked up at this statement, still afraid to look at you. He shifted in place, “How you feel?”

You rolled your eyes at Jeno, hitting him playfully, “Lee Jeno!” Yeah, you did want to drag the conversation in the first place, but it was getting too long. You wanted to get to the point and Jeno wasn’t taking any of the hints you were throwing. 

“What?” He whined, acting as if you hit him hard when everyone knows he’s got the muscle to resist that pain. This familiar feeling between the two of you, the wave of comfort he felt, caused him to turn towards you. Once he realized what he had done, he turned away quickly, feeling himself grow timid once again. 

“I know you’re not that stupid either, Jeno. Can you please look at me?” To no surprise he doesn’t listen. He was getting all flustered. The shy, blushy type of flustered. 

Lifting your hand up to his face, you grabbed it softly and turned it so that he was facing you. He complied, letting you turn his head, only, his eyes were shut tightly. 

You huffed, “Jeno! Please open your eyes.” He shook his head while his face was still being held with your hand, “Please?” 

Again, he refused, this giving you permission to attempt to pry his eyelids with your own fingers. Though you gave up quite quickly. You didn't want to force them open as any sort of mishap was bound to happen. 

“Last chance to open your eyes,” you warned, only he didn’t know what you were warning him about. He still kept them closed, feeling comfortable in this position he was in now, “Fine, Jeno, if you don’t open your eyes, then I will…”

“You will what?” He smirked. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could see his emotion through his raised brow. Deep down he knew what you were about to do. But he wanted to sit back and wait for it to happen. 

Without thinking, you leaned in and brought his lips down to yours. At first there wasn’t any response from Jeno, but once he had finally processed what was going on, his eyes shot open, and as if it was some sort of instinct, he kissed back. 

You liked this feeling. Maybe you would’ve felt it sooner if you hadn’t refused to kiss him earlier. But also you liked it how it was right now, and Jeno felt the same. Private, without any of the others watching. And it wasn’t because you had to follow a tradition, it was because you both wanted to do it.

After a few more long seconds, you both pulled away, beaming shyly at each other. You finally let go of his face and sat yourself back. 

“What was…?” Jeno was at a loss of words. 

You laughed softly, almost coming out as a giggle, “That’s how I feel.” 

Maybe Donghyuck was right when said you had that sort of potential. 

[birdwonder]

I read the rules and I’m not sure if platonic counts as x reader but I’ll ask anyway! Is it possible to get A small fic (or scenario? I’m not sure of the difference) of the reader training with Joseph? A little ass kicking from the reader, a little ass kicking from Joseph. But both are just really good friends trying to help the other get even stronger. (Again if platonic isn’t alright, you can turn it into traditional x reader) thanks again!!

|| this is such a wholesome request and i was so happy to read it ! platonic and any other relationships are perfectly fine when it comes to requests so this is fine ! as much as i love this request, i don’t think i did it justice due to a huge lack of ideas of how to start or end it, so i’m sorry if it’s a little eh ! still, hope you enjoy. 

Joseph Joestar | Sparring

Control. Control your breathing and make sure it doesn’t falter out of rhythm. Keeping the same breathing pattern constantly was your sure victory to winning this training session, especially when Joseph Joestar was at a disadvantage with the training mask he wore.

The two of you were interlocked in an intense spar, one that was prompted by your friend and fellow hamon user, Joseph, who had come up to you not too long after lunch asking if you were willing to go against him in a one on one. Naturally, you had to say yes.

Though the time you both had known each other was not long, the two of you had easily and quickly grown to be thick as thieves.

 You had met when Joseph arrived on the island to learn the art of hamon, something you were already fairly well versed in since you had been Lisalisa’s understudy alongside Caeser for quite some time now.

The first day that you two had met, Joseph had tried to act suave and charming but you quickly shot him down by pointing out the godawful mask he was required to wear. You could only be thankful that you hadn’t needed to wear it during your first few months with your mentor. After that, Joseph assumed that he would have a similar relationship to you as he did with Caeser, constantly bickering, but after the three of you had made it out of the Hell Climb Pillar, he had learnt that even in the face of danger you could crack a few jokes and help your comrades no matter what.

Something that he thought was absolutely amazing.

From then on, you all were a trio that supported each other and helped each other grow, even if Joseph and Caesar argued more often than an old, married couple. Not that you’d make the mistake of saying that out loud again.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Using the foot that was further back, you pushed yourself away from your standing stance and rushed directly towards Joseph with one of your fists drawn back and ready to punch. You focused your hamon and allowed it to course through your arm to your knuckles. If you were right and lucky then a single hamon punch would be enough to knock the cocky Brit back a few steps, or at least stun him for a few seconds which in turn meant you could land even more attacks.

A loud cry came from you and Joseph only stood there, knees bent so that he was prepared to dodge, with a look in his eyes that heavily suggested there was a smirk hidden behind his mask.

You swung your fist at his chest, knowing that it’d be more effective, and you were almost certain you were going to land it until a larger, rougher hand gripped onto your wrist and spun your around.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Joseph tutted, shaking his head at your smaller figure despite the fact your back was turned to him. “That’s not going to work, now is it?” His taunt had a condescending and proud sound to it which made you roll your eyes before they widened with surprise when the sole of a shoe was pressed against your back and forced you to the ground.

You managed to avoid a smooshed or broken nose by moving your head to the side right before you made contact with the floor, Joseph’s laughter filling the air as he kept his foot firmly pressed on your spine. “How’s it feel to be kissing the ground, [F/N]? Bet it isn’t as good as the sweet taste of victory!”

When you looked out the corner of your eye, you could faintly see Joseph standing with his hands loosely on his hips as a display of confidence. Even if you were to be as well built as him, there was no way of being able to escape the pressure exerting on you, meaning if you didn’t get up soon you would lose far too easily and quickly for your liking.

That was it. It was time to use your secret technique, one that only Caesar had the misfortune of seeing which lead to an instant loss for him. Since then, he made sure to never look you in the eyes again during a fight.

“Ooowww,” you whined, scrunching your brows together as you clawed a little at the ground. It took a lot of might but you managed to get a single tear to roll from your eye, something that caught Joseph’s attention quick and threw him into a state of panic. Whimpering, you hiccuped a little as you just managed to glance up at the man with puppy-like eyes and a quivering lip, “I thought we were friends, Jojo...” Your sorry complaintsand broken trust seemed to have really tugged his heart strings as his egotistical aura subsided and he seemed sincerely concerned.

“H—Hey ! You’re not actually crying, are you? Was I too rough?” With a frantic look in his eyes, he stepped away from you, releasing the pressure that had once stuck you down. The brown haired male bent down beside you, holding out a hand for you to accept. “I didn’t think it would be that bad, I mean I’ve seen you handle a lot wor—.”

An emasculating yelp suddenly piped up from Joseph as the hand he had graciously lent was quickly grabbed and yanked, sending him down tumbling towards you. As you were no longer laying on your front side and instead sitting on the ground, you used this to your advantage by mimicking his previous move and placing your foot on his chest. The combination of your pull and push on Joseph directed him to fall towards you and then to the side last second, rendering him on his back next to you.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you shuffled to sit on his stomach, grinning down at him with competitive friendliness in your eyes. “Gotcha! I knew you’d fall for that Jojo, I know you’re a secret softie under all that muscle.” You bragged, winking cheekily at the man beneath you. “If you really want to do better in fights, you should know your enemy, and think about every possible outcome that comes from your actions.” 

Joseph only raised a brow at your words. He did appreciate your criticism, truly, and knew it was vital for his improvement as much as he wanted to believe he was perfect already, however he already knew what you said. In fact, he knew what you were going to do before you even did it.

 Your continuation of boasts was short lived as in a blink of an eye, you too were knocked onto your back when a sharp burst of hamon hit your side, sending you a metre away from the one you once sat upon.

You winced slightly at the impact that had a web of pain spread through you, hissing at the feeling when a looming shadow caught your attention. “Oh don’t look at me like that.”

A small snort came from Joseph. “How do you know how I’m looking at you when you can’t even see most of my face?”

Standing up was a little difficult and you could tell there was no second chance of getting a helping hand.“You just radiate stupid and cocky. It’s pretty obvious.”

“As obvious as I won this one?” The triumphal tone was definitely worthy of a hamon punch, yet you digressed. For now.

“Maybe, but not as obvious as that stupid mask,” you bantered, knowing that he hated having to wear it, especially when neither you nor Caesar had to. When you saw his furrowed eyebrows you laughed. “Oops, too far?~”

He lightly punched your shoulder to stop your teasing, the hit far more playful than the last few attacks you both had been attempting, and you laughed once more, wrapping an arm around the other’s shoulders which he reacted to by doing the same. Joseph came to Lisalisa’s island to find his full potential and his main objective was still to defeat the pillar men and still, his greatest discovery has to arguably be meeting you.

Proving your strength during your fights rested Joseph’s heart. He knew that you were strong enough to look out for yourself and that losing you would be harder than gaining you as a friend.

“Well, I think we should call it quits for now! I mean, your poor backside has been through enough ass kicking, and you just fell on it too.” Joseph joked as he began to head towards a window, with you in tote. Glancing at the high, blazing, Italian sun, the two of you said nothing until you looked over at his face. Seeing him be silent and deep in thought was madly unnerving alongside interesting to see. Who knew such a boisterous man could actually be quiet?

“Something on your mind, Jojo?”

“Hm...? No, just appreciating some things” He quickly answered, like he was trying to avoid explaining himself. You didn’t question it as right after, in the span of a second, the mood had quickly changed once more to a light hearted one. “Say, I know we just ate and all... But I saw Suzi Q put some nice looking desserts away earlier and seeing as the loser should usually owes the winner something~”

You scoffed, shaking your head. It was clear what he wanted, and frankly after your spar, you also wanted something sweet. Hell, after this whole week you deserved it. “I’ll see what I can do. Let’s go see if they’re still there, knuckle head.”

“Huh- Who you calling ‘knuckle head’?!”

Even with all your jests and jabs, the two of you were close friends until the end and no matter what horrors would come up in the future when it came to the pillar men, you knew you’d use the last of your power to look out for Joseph.

[datarevived]

   -- Ⅶ : ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇ : ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ

The next few days ran by like a haze. 

With only one objective in mind, a constant prowess around the Tower and watchful eye towards a single individual. The Hunter cautiously kept her distance between the target, taking notes and listening in on conversations that did not belong to her. An earnest attempt to find an opening that she might be able to step out of the shadows without disapproving glare -- nay, the time never came, but the information that guarded it gave her something more.

She would find the truth about the Ward and it's keeper.

" You did what?! "

" I followed him, " the Awoken replies bluntly, blinking amiss the torn Exo as the Warlock stood dead center of the room. Both of their Ghost idly hovered in place next to one another, just short of the dresser that sat pushed against the wall as their Guardians spoke -- a disappointed glow in Data's own hold as he shook his shell.

" I tried to tell her otherwise that it was a poor idea, " the deep-purple shell sighed, cyan optic slant. " Truly, if he's still without suspicion after so long, I'll be amazed. "

" If he was on to us he would have already snagged us aside, " Selene argued, sitting upon ones' own mattress that met to concrete floor, waving a hand in defense. " He doesn't seem the type to just let things go. -- He's not. He's planning something big, and he's trying to do it alone and it's just going to get him killed. "

" And why is that any of our problem?! " Bex pleaded, throwing both hands in front of him in question. " You're over your head this time, Sel! You're putting yourself in someone elses' problem, this isn't your fight! "

" And neither is the Red War, but we're fighting that, aren't we!? " hands slam against the covers in retaliation, wilting expression now staring upward at her companion. " You said it yourself -- he's alone, Bex. Who even wants that!? And the Twins -- they said the rest of them died out a long time ago! And the few who did survive just ended up dying trying to recon some other big mission that ate up another Fireteam because they were alone. "

" You don't know what happened back then, Sel, " the Warlock sighed heavily, tone having switched at the mention of other Fireteam. " Just don't do this, okay? I'm beggin' you. I'll even get on my knees, right here, right now, and we can just act like this was just some whole big' rouse -- "

" And let Valdourin go out on his own to die?! Are you insane? "

" You don't even know this guy, Sel! "

" I know he's a Guardian and we're suppose to watch each others' backs! "

The twos' bickering damped in the background as the two Ghost continued to watch, Screws's shell whirling an unnoticed cog as yellow optic blinks. As if debating whether or not to speak -- not directly, but in retrospect. It's monotone voice scraping at the sounds of altered unit.

" ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴ0ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ... ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴅ. "

The statement naturally having caught Data's attention, at least. Quirked hue turning in favor of the other Ghost, " What was that? -- A bit hard to hear with all the yelling.  "

The response being nothing more than silence 'pon mislead rage, the multi-colored Ghost remaining kept to its' thoughts now. Data's own curiosity, tracing his audio backlog to revisit the statement. It was still too hard to decipher between the noise of Guardians.

" People die every day, Selene -- and if this guy wants to go out on his own, don't you think he wants to be alone?! " Bex's voice picked back up, the Awoken now standing on her mattress to meet at risen height, nearly eye to eye with the other as she glared.

" Just because he wants to doesn't mean he needs to! I heard it, from the Bazaar and from the Twins -- this isn't something he'd do unless he was desperate! And the people who want to help him -- can’t!  "

" So why are you so desperate to help him! You didn't even want part of this whole Guardian thing, remember!? So why are you so interested now?! "

. . .

. . .

. . .

Perhaps, in theory -- words that had been taken too far.

The Exo's snap leaving the other tight-lipped and in shock. He, who had been her friend from the start of this mess, calling out on something that was dreadfully personal. Something she struggled to keep up with, true -- a façade she was trying to mend real, this folktale story. With not a care in the world for what the Traveler wanted or intended with their immortality -- it was by the words of the Hunter Vanguard that made her settle for what was done. To help those who couldn't help themselves. To do what others can't -- what others won't. That's what being a Guardian was about, right?

' We take care of one another. '

So why?

Why was this suddenly so difficult to understand?

A tightening grasp clutched at her chest now -- arms still held to the side in white-knuckled fist as she frantically tried to find the words to argue back. But this stun, this spell the Exo had trapped her in -- an improper time of evaluation and truth. Why was she so desperate to help this man? What was in it for her? Why simply him? Would it have been the same, if it was someone else?

" ...Sel, look, m' sorry -- "

" Don't. "

" --What? "

A sharpen inhale as her chest inflates, the Awoken holds it there for a moment before exhaling in locked decision. Brows pinched against her forehead, with threatening light behind the blues of her eyes -- she could do this. She would do this.

" I'm going, with or without your help. "

" Excuse me? " Data's voice quirked back.

" I still don't think this is a good idea -- " Bex attempted, though as quickly cut off before he could proceed.

" No. It probably isn't. But I'm going anyway. "

What else was there to say?

If she had her decision beneath lock and key, nothing more to discussion in the matter, what else could he have done to change the outcome? For what he knew of Selene so far, she was certainly a type. One in which once her mind was set, there was no going backwards. A foot forward, each and every time -- it didn't have to make sense. It just had to move.

Was that how she always bested him?

Or was it how he always lost, not taking the step before hand? 

. . .

If faceplate could replicate a grimace, it would be his very war paint. Sun-set hued optics shifting slight, his attention now placed anywhere but the Hunter's face. Her eyes, as if thrown daggers from pocket -- she was a Hunter, thick and thin. Heart worn 'pon sleeve and ambition leading the forefront. 

But more importantly -- she was his friend.

And as such, he couldn't simply just walk away from it. 

Not this time.

" ...Do you even know when he's leaving? "

" Tonight. Soon as the City lights turn on. "

"  You got a location? "

" Io... something about... " she shifts in place now, expression relaxing against a new coat of melancholy. " -- I don't know, really... he mentioned something about the Hive. That they were crowning a new King or something... I haven't been able to get all the details, but -- "

" And how are you even getting there? " the Exo's head tilts, crossing his arms at his chest as he shifts a leg for balance.

" I... I've been to Io, once. "

" Oh dear, " Data sighs.

" Uh-huh? "

" ...I uh... sneaked into a ship. I figured if I was careful enough, I'd be able to sneak onto his... "

" You want us to stowaway on his ship? "

" It's worked before!? Throw me a bone here, man! "

" Ugh -- you know, Hunters have quite a reputation in their life spans because of this nonsense, " the Warlock shook his head, raising a hand in pinch against the metal of his would-be-if-he-had-one nose. " We're not sneaking onto a Ward's ship. We need a better plan. " 

" I don't knoooow, " Selene grumbles, now placing both hands against the sides of her head. " I just assumed at this point you weren't coming and I could sneak into a box or something -- "

" You're hilarious. "

" I'm trying! "

" Yeah, yeah, " Bex pulls the hand from his face in a wave, offering another sigh. At least they'd be going down together, worse case scenario. Dying alone just seemed so... out of  date. " Look -- ya'got a few hours before the lights. We figure out a plan, we execute plan, we go to Io and participate in whatever the hell this mission is. Given the Hive, we'll probably die -- a lot. Permanently, maybe. But if we live? We come back, everyones happy? We take a month break from doing bad ideas. Capeesh? "

" I was really hoping you had a better plan, " the Awoken mumbles, crossing her own arms. " --But fine. We fix up a plan... we go... we come back alive, " she points, offering a glance of uncertainty, " ...who knows, maybe he'll turn out to be a nice friend and the we can all three go do bad ideas. "

" After the break. "

" ...Sure, for now, " she shrugs.

" ...Yer' terrible. "

" I know. ♥ "

[seigephoenix]

Alcohol is the Root of Bad Ideas

Featuring @crazy-bone-lady's Nevia and my Siobhan.  Always trouble when those two get together.

Alcohol was the root of all bad ideas.  Though, this hardly ranked in the top five for them in their short spans as Guardians.  They'd blown up buildings, taken on a Hive God, and one time got Zavala trapped under some mistletoe with Executor Hideo.  He had not been amused.  Commotion outside got Sio's attention as she propped herself up below the window.  Siobhan pulled herself up to look out the barred window. “Well shit.”  She wobbled and hugged the bars in a death grip.

“What is it?” Nevia tilted her face up as she leaned next to Siobhan's dangling legs.  Neither Hunter would classify as ‘tall’.

“That Captain?”  Siobhan was listening as the eliksni spoke outside in a group.  She didn't like what he was saying.

“The half naked one that smelled like piss and ether?”  They both wrinkled their noses at the memory.  They'd been minding their own business in that bar.  Simply drinking and catching up, they didn't exactly get to hang out much.  The eliksni came in and began making trouble for them.  It resulted in an ambush as the two Hunters had headed to their ships.  Which landed them both in a Fallen prison being angry about it.

“Yeah that one.”  Siobhan stuck out her tongue as the aforementioned Captain met her glare.

“What about him?”

“Pretty sure we shouldn't have insulted his manhood.  If I'm hearing this right, they want to turn us over to the Scorn.”  Nevia snorted in laughter as Sio dropped back down to the ground.  “Or they're wanting to sell us on the black market.  I could be wrong.  Their dialect isn't like the ones on Earth.”

“Well.  They took our weapons and I dunno about you, but Chia won't let me use my blades drunk.”  Chia popped out and floated around Nevia's head.  The little Ghost bounced in annoyance.

“You almost shot Drifter last time you tried it.”  Nevia threw back her head and laughed.  That had been funny, for her anyway.  She rarely used her Light around Drifter but he'd laid down a challenge.  She never backed down from a challenge.

“Did you send that message for me Arawn?”  Arawn appeared next to Siobhan and nodded.  There was only a few people Siobhan would trust to message to get them out.  Her Fireteam or Shaxx.

“He's not happy about it.”  Siobhan snorted.  She'd endure the lecture on the way back.

“Of course he's not happy about it.  I'm drunk and got captured by Fallen.”  She giggled and sat next to Nevia.  The Hunter nudged her and snarked about newlywed troubles.

“Shaxx says to tell you that he has a thing or two to say when he gets here.”  Nevia groaned and her head fell back against the prison walls.  She didn't want to listen to a lecture from Shaxx.

“Oh no.”  The two Hunters glanced up at Chia.  “I contacted Drifter too.  I didn't know you were calling Shaxx!”  Siobhan held her stomach as she pictured the scenario.  Laughter echoed off the prison walls as Nevia joined her.  They leaned against each other.  The two men weren't hostile with each other, but they'd no doubt butt heads.

“Oh, I think they're here.”  Siobhan jumped up to look out the window again.  “Yep.  Well piss.”  She glared in the general vicinity of Shaxx and Drifter.  It wasn't pretty.

“What?”  Nevia stood on tiptoe but couldn't see over the wall.  Stupid prison windows made for fucking tall ass Fallen.

“You'd better come up here and look.”  Siobhan held out a hand to her.  Nevia hefted herself up into the window with Sio's help and sighed at the sight.  Shaxx and Drifter were arguing in the middle of a ring of dead Fallen.  The ground was scorched and they were definitely arguing with each other.  The body language was hard to deny.

“Oi!  Quit your bitching and come get us out!”  Nevia yelled out between the bars.  They didn't hear her over the approaching ketch.  “Well fuck.”

“Uh oh.”  Siobhan noticed the very large Shank headed their way.  “Watch out!”  Her warning and Nevia's went unheeded as the two men continued their bickering.  “What the hell were they even arguing about?”  Siobhan asked as they saw the Fallen run the two off.  “This would be more entertaining if we weren't stuck in here.”

“Some heroes they turned out to be.”  Nevia scoffed as she and Siobhan watched the fighting.  It was almost as if the Fallen had forgotten about them.  The Fallen couldn't get a foothold on the two thanks to Shaxx's arc and Drifter's aim.  While it kept them safe, the same couldn't be said for Siobhan and Nevia.

“They're still arguing.  And I thought Shaxx and Saladin couldn't get along.”  Siobhan propped her cheek on her fist as they watched the fighting.  She sighed and wondered how long it would take them to get into the prison.

“We don't have all day.  I'm calling in the cavalry.”  Arawn told the two Hunters.  Siobhan grinned as she knew who that was.  Her Fireteam wasn't available so Arawn would only call one other person.  When she got there, the two rescuers would be in for one hell of a lecture.

“Oh.  Well, looks like they got Drifter.  And Shaxx too?  Didn't think he'd go down so quick.”  Nevia watched as they were led into the building.  Both Ghosts disappeared as the door opened.  Siobhan and Nevia jumped down from the window to face the newest additions.

“Stay in here filthy Lightbearers.”  Siobhan snorted and couldn't let that stand.  Not about her husband.

“Better than smelling of stolen ether.”  The Vandal roared in anger and raised his hand to strike her.  Shaxx sent him flying with a single punch.  The others slammed the door shut and locked it before the Guardians could react.

“Khalon!”  Siobhan grinned and opened her arms.  He placed his hand on her face as she went to give him a hug.

“You're drunk.”  His voice lacked any bite, but it was clear he was annoyed.

“Hmm.  I am!”  She simply wrapped her arms around his waist as he glared at her through his helmet.  “I can feel you glaring at me.  It's not going to work.”  He huffed and rolled his eyes heavenward.  She was way too cheery when she was drunk.  And grabby.  He took her hand and pulled it away from his rear end.

“You okay Quickfang?”  Drifter looked over Nevia but didn't see any wounds.

“Tch.  I'm fine.  We just got into a scuffle with some Fallen.”

“I'd say this isn't quite a scuffle.”  He stood next to her as the Fallen scurried around outside.

“What is going on out there?”  Shaxx looked towards the door as Drifter spoke.

“And take that you sonofabitch!”  The all too familiar voice of Yvette reached them.  A Dreg flew by the bars of their jail cell and Siobhan cheered.  Even as Shaxx tried to shush her.

“Yvette?”  Yvette poked her head across the doorframe.  Shaxx couldn't believe it.

“Well I'll be damned.  Arawn was telling the truth.  Hey, Aine!  You gotta come see this!”  Yvette called out to her partner in crime.

“Mom!”  Siobhan cheered as Yvette snorted.

“You are good and shitfaced aren't ya?”  Siobhan nodded with a grin.  “Well that explains how you got into this situation.  But what about the two of you?”  She pointed from Shaxx to Drifter.

“They were arguing!”  Siobhan and Nevia told her in unison.

“My my.  You two are certainly in a predicament aren't you?”  Aine chuckled as she joined Yvette's side.  “When Yvette asked me to come, I was expecting only two Guardians.”

“Aine!”  Siobhan opened her arms for a hug and buried her face in Aine's hair as the older Guardian gave her the hug.

“I see we've been drinking?”  Aine patted her head while Yvette made sure the hallway was clear.

“Just me and Nevia.”

“Well, that explains quite a bit.”  Aine smiled as Siobhan turned to speak to Shaxx.

“We were doin’ just fine.”  Drifter grumbled as he leaned against the wall.

“Eli Ming, you listen to me.”  Aine held up a disapproving finger towards him.

“Ooooohhh, she used the full name.  He's in trouble.”  Siobhan whispered to Nevia who had to cover her mouth to keep the laughter in.  Both did a piss poor job of being discreet.  

“Someone sober them up please?”  Yvette grinned and shook her head.  They were stuck with them.

“Nah.  They're fine.”  Drifter pinched the bridge of his nose.  They were not fine.  And if that was how much trouble they got into together it was a wonder the Tower still stood.

“We did manage to reacquire your weapons.”  Aine had Lugh transmat them back.

“Ah!  Nightmare!”  Siobhan hugged her blade as Arawn grumbled about keeping up with it.

“Quickfang!”  Nevia strapped it to her side where it belonged.  

“Now, shall we go about breaking out of this prison?”  Yvette told them as they finished gearing up.

“YEAH!”  They were a little too enthusiastic about that.

“I don't really think.”  Shaxx started but was ignored as Siobhan and Nevia went charging out the door.

“Let them have their fun.  Besides, it'll help sober them up and who knows?  Burn off that excess energy.”  Yvette patted his shoulder and followed the two girls out with Aine at her side.  

“Is this normal for them?”  Drifter waved his hand at the door.

“When they get together?  Yes.”  Shaxx sighed.

“How many times have you rescued them?”

“I usually don't.  Her Fireteam can't so I came instead.”  Drifter ran a hand over his face.  “There would be twice the explosions if they came.”

“I figured…”  He gave up and followed behind the group with Shaxx bringing up the rear.  They followed the mad laughter and explosions to find Siobhan and Nevia.

“Where did Yvette and Aine go?”

“They went home.  Said that since we’re out they aren't needed anymore.”

“They stuck us with babysitting duty.”  Drifter stuck his hands in his pockets.  Shaxx chuckled as the girls finished up the Fallen in the room.

“Time to head back!”  Siobhan yelped when an arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her off her feet.

“Yes.  Back to the Tower with you.  So you can sleep this off.”  She tilted her head to glare at him.  She wasn't going anywhere with his arm around her like an iron vise.

“Hmph.  Spoilsport.”  She grinned at him to ease the sting of her words.

Drifter slung his arm around Nevia's neck and tugged her close.  “I've got some bounties for ya to go over back on the Derelict.  I'll tell you all about ‘em on the way back.”  

“I can fly by myself you know.”  She elbowed him in the side but a smile tugged at her lips.

“Sure you can.  But then you'd miss hearing about the glimmer.”  She wrinkled her nose but gave in.  “Alright then.  Let's head out.”  They left first in a blue shimmer.

“Are we taking your ship?”  Siobhan asked as Arawn popped out.

“No.  I merely grabbed what was convenient.  The ship doesn't have room for two.”  Shaxx informed her.  Siobhan grinned.

“You're still not piloting it.”

“Awww.”  She sighed and they disappeared in a burst of purple.

[ofphcenixes]

THE PHOENIX || blue hawthorne. 

am i two hundred years late to the party ?? you bet your biscuits i am. but hiya all, i’m lilac, i am from the land of Quokkas and the Wiggles. i am already gonna apologise in advance for the mess of an intro below, so HERE is one of my fave videos as Thanks for wanting to learn more about my boi blue !! who, for the record, is so much lamer than he’ll let you believe. then again, i’m watching the nancy drew (2007) movie so who am i to judge lmao.

personality

THANK YOU FOR SUBSCRIBING TO BLUE FACTS. PLEASE TEXT ‘STOPBLUE’ TO CANCEL YOUR SUBSCRIPTION. 

but if you have seen blue’s blog sidebar and title, i feel like you will gather a LOT about his personality lmfao

he is playful, jocular, and honestly? immature

always looking for the childhood he never got to have, y’know?

he is secretly very insecure and always has a need to please. if someone doesn’t like him, he’ll tear himself apart to figure out why.

he’s always telling jokes and always laughing. he’s known for his Memes and is always a good time to be around... if you know what i mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

but also Anti-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) because ya boi has commitment issues so high they’re past the inevitable spaghetti monster that’s probably floating out there in space

he can also be very maternal when the need arises. he is not good at talking about emotions but he’ll give you a meme or a plate of cookies to Heal You

honestly? the human embodiment of a puppy. cannot be alone for very long, has a short attention span, and craves validation lmfao. give him a squeaky toy and he will be Contented

as a footballer he can be Tough on field when he needs to be but he’s also v sensitive and talks to birds he passes on his morning runs like he’s a disney princess djkgfdk

he struggles academically as he has a short attention span most of the time and thinks too little of himself. however, he’s a lot brighter than most people give him credit for. he’s incredibly creative and a lateral thinker. maths makes him want to die, tho.

also what’s money? blue does not know

to many, blue’s known as the troubled kid who turned his life around. to others, he’s known as the local Meme Dealer. but to a lucky few, he’s known as a friend who would do anything for you. 

most just know him as the moron named after a colour tho.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

history. (trigger warning: illness, death, drugs, depression)

WHO’S READY FOR SOME CHROMATIC CONTENT

blue hawthorne, who never goes by his birthname bc he hates it dfkjgdgdf ( what is his birthname ? he’ll never tell ┌( ಠ‿ಠ)┘ ) was born right here in ashmont. 

despite not having a lot - he grew up with just him and his mum ( his father left before he was born, never knew a thing about him ), in a tiny trailer park on the outskirts of town. a far cry from the opulent manors peppered all throughout town, and the very lifestyle blue’s mother was accustomed to as a child. however, the pair were content as long as they were together. 

despite not having much, blue loved every second of his childhood. he wore his mischief like a crown, smiling wherever he went. he’d always resonated with a love of music and dance, and like his mother before him, danced. ballet was his passion growing up, and started as young as 5.

as a child blue was often teased for this, and the fact that he was so close with his mother. he was also very outspoken and strong-willed, and never let his peers get the best of him. he danced, he laughed, he bruised his knees at any given opportunity. what he lacked in possessions he gained in the abundance of joy he felt in his heart growing up. his mother and a few of his close friends were his world. 

when blue turned ten, everything changed. 

the jubilant, mischievous, but altogether kind-hearted boy was given the heart-breaking news that his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. margarette hawthorne, much like her son, was a fighter - and didn’t let such a diagnosis keep her down. despite their dwindling lack of funds now going towards medical bills, and the fact blue began sacrificing his own childhood as he took to the role of a caretaker of sorts for his mother, he never took his time with her for granted. 

things were okay for a while. there was a point where the doctors were convinced that she was going to make it. blue was a fool. blue believed them. 

at the age of thirteen, blue lost everything. he lost his place to live, he lost his childhood and lust for life, and he lost the person he loved most in the world. he lost his best friend. 

it wasn’t long before the overbearing sympathy from those around him soured blue. he was sick of being bullied, people not liking him, and altogether not being in control. so what did this boy do ? he quit ballet (the thing he’d loved since he was able to stand), he started drinking, he got involved in a very bad crowd and became a frequenter of the local ashmont police station. blue became a certified Bad Boy™

blue was sent to live with the grandparents that despised him and never acknowledged his existence before that moment. righteous and conservative in their views, they had cast aside their daughter when she had blue out of wedlock, and only reached out to her in her final months. for this reason, blue despised these people (he refused to call them family). he tried his best to be appreciative of a house and food ( which was much better than anything he had growing up ). but he was cold. always cold. 

as a teenager, blue fell into a rapid succession of bad decisions. still small, still frail in stature, he found himself at a dissonance with his image and began growing insecure about his looks, the years of torment weighing on him. he found anesthetic in the party scene outside of school, taking to alcohol and drugs as a sedative from the life he felt forced to lead. his grandparents were pigeon-holing him into a preppy, studious boy who’d go on to be a banker or a lawyer, when all blue had wanted to do was be himself. he couldn’t decide if he hated himself or he hated the world more. 

at the age of 16, his rap sheet seemed to grow with each rising of the sun. he’d fallen in with a bad crowd, hardly ever heading ‘home’ and couch surfed. at the age of 16 he’d gotten his own car and lived more out of that than the stuffy house on top of the hill where he was supposed to stay. his grades were sinking towards the bottom of the barrel, he was always looking for validation from the bad kids he hung around with and made some very poor decisions in the hopes he’d be liked. in the hopes he’d find a new family. 

the partying, the stream of hook ups, his criminal record (mainly with traffic offences, a few write ups for public intoxication and fighting), sobriety, the instability of his living situation and his future all came to boil just before he turned 17. physically he’d started to fill out, and look more like the man people know today. he was no longer frail and no longer weak, and when asked, he used to his fists to forge that path he thought he wanted.

after a dark night, it became apparent to blue that his path of self destruction was hurting no one but himself. whether by choice or by accident, he knew he wasn’t ready to see his mother again. so... he’d hit rock bottom with a spectacular thud. but blue knew the only way to go from there was up.

through nothing short than a McMiracle (sponsored by Ronald McDonald, bc no one else is rich enough to pull it off lmfao) blue managed to scrape by and complete high school. 

blue had no doubt his family name (that of his grandparents) helped him secure an athletic scholarship to st etienne. in his year of transformation from 17 to 18 his grandmother had softened to the boy she’d always hated and was riddled with guilt for the years of mistreatment, and promised to pay for his education (that wasn’t covered by his scholarship) as long as he promised to make something of himself. his first year of college, things really started looking up for blue. he was finally back on track.

then woops, grim came a-knocking again

bidding farewell to the grandmother he was only beginning to know, his grandfather had no reason to extend her kindnesses, and cut blue off. at the age of 18 he was homeless, with nothing but a car and a handful of pokemon cards he’d had as a kid. not worth anything or even particularly sentimental, he just likes pokemond kgfjfd. 

living in his car for a while before eventually crashing with a close friend, blue managed to absorb his days in study and in work. he quickly found his passion in helping kids, and giving them the childhoods that he never got. going into teaching seemed like a no-brainer. 

although blue’s wild days are behind him, there are some things locked in his past that still haunt him. there are doors he never hopes to open again. but he got his fresh start, and is determined to live the life a young blue would have wanted for him, and one his mother could be proud of. 

then the grim reaper came back a third time, his scythe begging for daisey rutherford. 

the investigation. 

blue’s connection to daisey is that they danced in ballet classes together... as you can imagine, daisey had to put on her Evil Training Wheels somewhere and unfortunately, blue was one of her earliest victims. teased constantly for his appearance, his love of ballet, his lack of wealth, and on awful days, his single parent household.

for the most part blue had grown resilient in ignoring these comments. but he never forgot how daisey mistreated him, and sparked a wave of similar comments from people in their year when they were only children. 

hey now im not gonna rEVEAL (bc what if he is ??? :o ) anything relating to the crime if he was the murderer, but know he is Lorge and Strong and could probably push daisey over with his finger lmfao

it’s also worth noting that one of daisey’s parents, a beloved surgeon, treated blue’s mother whilst she was in hospital with cancer. the late detection of its return is what caused her death, and blue has been vocal in his blame in the rutherford family for the loss of the person closest to him ever since. 

now i’m not saying blue did anything... but if he did, his ‘eye for an eye’ motive ? maybe not as crazy as you may think. especially when you consider your boi already has a criminal record. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

plots.

atm i am still working on blue’s blob and getting his stats/connections page up BUT !! here are a few fun lil plots beyond his skeleton connections that i’d absolutely love to explore. 

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS  - blue grew up in ashmont, and didn’t have a lot of friends kfgjfd. if your muse would have been down for a Young Memey Mess that’s fond of a pirouette, blue is your Man. on the flip side, if your muse is one of the Cool Kids and is looking for potential animosity, i’d love someone who tried to squash blue like a bug in their youth (~:

FLIRTATIONSHIP - blue is currently in a (hidden) relationship, and for the first time in his life, gasp, might have feelings. but he’s a fucking walnut and refuses to admit that, so a plot of someone with an unrequited crush, a fun flirtationship, or even someone that just wants to be his wingman would not only be fun, but also incredibly painful - which is what we deserve. 8) (also note, blue is bisexual so any muse would work. <3)

COWORKERS - blue works as a trainer at the ashmont fitness centre ( .... dont @ maaria for the page not being done fgjdgkdf  WE ARE IN THE PROCESS OF UPDATING THE PAGES NOW KDFJGDKFJ). but i’d always be down for plots in the workplace !!

UBER - sorry for the lame ass name lmao but dkjfgfkd blue is not about the party scene anymore ( lowkey bc he’s afraid to get addicted again and throw away everything he’s worked so hard for). but he does care a lot about people, and a pal of his is v much still hooked to that lifestyle and he very dkfgjdf determinedly drives them home every time to ensure they’re safe. could be former party friends, could be current friends in some capacity. maybe there was an incident in their past that blue feels guilt over ( a fight perhaps, trigger warning - maybe an overdose?) and so now he looks after them. or even just having a sibling-like bond, which (as blue is an only child) i’d also love something like that!

STUDY BUDDY - blue is a moron and needs someone to help him not fail kdfjgdf. he may not be naturally adept at getting good grades, but unlike many, he’s trying his absolute hardest. in return, he’s more than happy to be your Meme Dealer. bonus points if it’s unlikely friends, or if they didn’t exactly get along at first. :D

FELLOW FOOTBALLERS - 2 bros sitting in a hot tub five feet apart bc they’re not gay. dkjgdgdf but for REAL. exploring the team dynamic of the football team would be so fun, especially with blue’s reputation and the fact he only started taking up the sport when he was about 15-16, which may be a lot later than other guys in the team. 

RIVALS - god they’re probably rivals about memes and i hate that but that’s just what it is :/

it’s super late here (for me anyway, as i’m a certified Grandpa ™ so any time after 9pm is basically 3am to me lmfao) but i know these connections aren’t the best that ever was dfkjgdf but i am so excited to plot and come up with things that fit our muses !! if anything in this intro sparked an interest, one of the connections are intriguing, or you’d just like to plot and see what happens, please give this post a like and i’ll come to you !! i will get back to you all tomorrow when im awake aest time, but for now dkjgkfdfg yOU DESERVE COOKIES FOR READING THROUGH THIS ABODIMABLE MESS. i am literally so excited to plot with you all fjdgfd after reading your apps i hOPE I AM WORTHY. so please leave a like on this bad boy and you will find a message on your tumblr tomorrow. (~:

[jimlingss]

Tell Me Lies [Prologue]

Prologue | Part 1 | Interlude | Part 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: ????? (ooooh it’s a surprise), Spin off of ????

➜ PSA: don’t steal.

Blind. People have always been easy to trick, caught within the bubble of their lives, in the midst of pretentious phone calls or frivolous conversations, masking perfection for others, leading their chaotic lifestyles with short attention spans. They fail to notice their own surroundings, the little details that go unnoticed; from cheeks that are too hollow, marks of hunger and exhaustion made, to the clothes that are frayed at the hem, a trace of the second-hand material.   When people are happy and comfortable, there is no need to pay attention to the world outside.   “E-excuse me!” A young lady’s shoulder roughly collides with another. He’s rushing past, head downcasted, face covered by his black hoodie, and he doesn’t even spare a single glance or give an apology. She huffs out in annoyance, left to pick up her belongings off the ground.   You immediately stand from your seat, scowling at the stranger whose backside is disappearing, and you lean down, helping the woman. “Some people can be so rude.”   “Tell me about it.” In the grand restaurant, the noisy background of business conversations and meaningless chatter, the female laughs, easing the tension between her brows. The jewels of her necklace and the diamond on her finger sparkles in the chandelier’s shimmer. She glances up at you as you begin to shuffle her pens, paper, lipstick tubes and tissues back into her purse. “Thank you for your help.”   The both of you rise to your feet again and you give her designer handbag back. “No problem, Ms. Jeon.”   “Oh.” She’s surprised at how you directly address her, and she pushes a curl away from her face, batting her lashes once when she blinks. “I’m sorry. You are..?”   “I’m Seulgi, Kang Seulgi. I think my dad and your husband are business partners...or something like that. I dunno.” You give a sheepish smile, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “We met a while back.”   “R-right!” The pretty woman, no more than twenty-five, blushes from embarrassment, trying to recall the last dinner party. “I can’t believe I don’t remember. I must be getting old.”   “No, you’re not.” A giggle bubbles from your mouth and she smiles. “We all forget things sometimes, it’s okay. Actually, speaking of my dad, he’s coming with my mom in like five minutes. We’re having a family dinner today. They’re treating me since I’m turning fourteen on the weekend!”   “That’s so sweet,” she coos, her heart melting at the thought. “Congratulations, for turning fourteen, sweetheart.”   “Thank you.” Your arms are behind your back and you’re standing on the tips of your toes, rocking back on your heels every once in a while. Your pink dress is a bit wrinkled, the bows on it scrunched but it adds to your soft charm. “Do you actually mind if you sit here for a moment? They should be arriving soon but I don’t think they know where I’m sitting. I’d just go grab them.”   “Oh, of course. I have a date with my husband tonight, but he isn’t here right now.” The young woman scans the premise and then offers another smile. She takes a seat at the round table and gestures towards you. “Go ahead.”   “Thank you so much.” You dip your head in appreciation, ready to turn on your heel. “I’ll be right back.”   The strides of your steps are calm and constant. There’s no last glimpse taken as you weave through the tables and chairs of affluent people, marching straight out of the door.   It takes a mere five minutes. Five minutes before the waiter saunters to the table and slaps down a long piece of paper. “This is your bill, ma'am.”   “Bill?” The young newlywed immediately frowns. It’s almost comical, the way she stares up in confusion at the server. “There must be a misunderstanding. This table hasn’t ordered yet.”   The man in the red vest isn’t impressed, his brows lifting, and he clears his throat once. “There isn’t a misunderstanding, ma’am. Three people sat here and ate an entire meal, and we just cleared off the table a moment ago. The bill still needs to be paid.”   “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She becomes defensive, hugging her purse to her chest and sitting straight to counter him. “I’m not even supposed to be here. My reservation is over there. I’m just sitting here because—”   “If you can’t pay the bill, then I will have to grab the manager, ma’am,” the waiter interrupts in a clipped tone, adamant and impatient.   She is completely baffled, muttering incessantly about the regrets the entire restaurant will have when they realize their mistake and just how important she is. The woman opens her leather purse, nearly ripping off the zipper in irritation, and she fishes for her wallet. The search begins with fury before it morphs to bewilderment and then into desperation. She’s scrambling for her belongings, dumping out the items inside onto the white-clothed table and opens her mouth before closing it like a fish out of water. In the meanwhile, the waiter is tapping his foot, arms crossed, and unimpressed at the whole ordeal.   “I—...I don’t have my wallet!” She nearly screeches and several patrons turn around from the noise, meal disturbed by her loud volume. “I dropped all my stuff earlier and—...and—”   The blindness pulls back like a curtain, light piercing through her pupils and finally, she can see. Realization hits her like a bullet train, the woman finally becoming aware of her surroundings, but it happens too late. Now, not only is the waiter waiting for her, the owner of the establishment has also paraded on the scene and all the customers are staring from their peripheral vision.   People are blind—   That makes deception all too easy.   Survival of the fittest and every man for themselves. In the short years that you’ve been on this planet, if there’s anything that you learnt, it would be to protect yourself first and foremost. If you don’t take care of yourself, no one else will. But, maybe there are two exceptions to that rule.   “Y/N!”   There’s a shout of your name from the distance and you leap down the hill, making your way to the two boys standing by the empty railway tracks. One of them is blonde, ruffled bangs almost in their eyes, black hoodie hanging off his frame and the other is brunette, his crinkled eye-smile already welcoming you back.   “What the hell took you so long?” The former bemoans, lowering his shoulders and giving you an exasperated expression. “We were waiting for ages.”   “Shut up, alright?” You move to dig your hands into your pockets, used to the movement, but you forget the tight attire that you’re wearing. “God, all you do is complain. You’re so annoying.”   He stamps his foot childishly. “I do not just complain!”   “Yeah, you bumped into her, whoop-de-doo. Anyone can do that job, dumbass.” You roll your eyes before moving to scratch your arms. The frilly material was grating against your skin and the shivers of the cold wind weren’t helping. It was times like these you wondered why the damn sun didn’t do its job, even when it was so bright outside. “Ugh, this dress is so itchy. I hate pink! Where did you even get this thing?!”   The corner of his lips curl. “Where your mom left you — the dumpster!”   A muscle in your cheek twitches and you jump to tackle him down. “I’m going to kill you, Kim Taehyung!”   He giggles, a box shape plastered across his face and swelling into his cheeks. His legs tremble as they try to hold him upright, even when you’re on his back, pounding him with your little fists. “I’d like to see you try—!”   “Will you two stop fighting already?” The brunette boy forcibly peels you off and drags you back on your feet. He holds the two of you apart and frowns. “It’s giving me a headache. Taehyung, you’re not being funny. Stop it.”   “You’re always taking her side, Jimin!”   The shrill protest is ignored and he turns to you. “And Y/N, stop being so mean to Taehyung.”   You openly scoff. “He started it!”   “Y/N.” His brown irises meet yours, timbre dropping a pitch, attempting to sound stern and intimidating. It doesn’t really work. At least not with his squeaky voice and adorable appearance, chubby cheeks, cute eyes and the entire nine yards. Still, you know better than to make him angry and you quiet down. “We’re a team and you guys fight too much. How are we supposed to get anything done? It feels like I’m doing all the work here.”   Jimin lets out a dramatic sigh. “You’re both too immature.”   “Immature?!”   It’s an explosion of rage and shouts.   “Excuse me?!” You scoff again. “The only thing you do is look at the reservation list and find people's names. Okay, I’m the one doing all the work here in this little ‘team’.”   At the same time, Taehyung knocks his head back, staring up at the cerulean sky. “Wow, I can’t believe you’d say I’m immature. I know I daydream a lot and I do a lot of dumb things, but I’m not stupid, you know. All of this was my idea anyways, you guys are just helping.”   “Okay, okay! I get it.” Jimin sheepishly grins, holding up his hands for mercy. “See? You two can work well together...if you’re trying to gang up on me.”   “Psh.” The trio of you begin walking, following the train tracks like you so often do, letting it lead you to the next destination. Regardless of the endless bantering and the petty arguments, it’s times like these that you feel the most at peace.   It’s as if the entire universe only belongs to the three of you.   “We only work well together if you make us.”   Your eyes roll once more. “If it weren’t for you, Jimin, I probably would’ve already punched him in the face.”   While you may be barely scraping by, you’re happy. There’s no need to pay attention to the world outside when you’re stuck in your bubble, the little world that belongs to kids who are no longer kids but not adults yet either. And maybe in that sense, you are also blinded.   “Uh, you throw like a girl.”   His little smirk provokes you even more and you take a step forward. “You wanna say that again?”   Like the coward that he is, Taehyung hides behind Jimin, and the latter raises his arm before you can launch. “Enough, stop it. I get it, I get it.” Jimin, the official peace-maker, exhales when you both return by his side without scraping each other’s faces into bits. “Let’s talk about something more important. What did you get Taehyung?”   He hums, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket and counting through the bills. “Two hundo.”   People in luxurious restaurants outright leave tips on the tables and it’s easy to snag, especially for Taehyung’s slippery hands. On the other hand, you carry a different set of talents, primarily in speaking and charming others, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t slick either.   “She got a bunch of cards we can’t use.” You pluck the shiny plastic rectangles out from the woman’s wallet and toss them behind your shoulder, examining every inch of the leather. “Oh, six hundred in cash. Not bad.”   “So, that’s nine hundred. We get three hundred each,” Jimin deducts and you begin dividing the cash up evenly. “That, plus the entire meal we ate.”   Taehyung smiles, pocketing his share of the money and kicking a rock with his worn sneakers. “Should last us the rest of the week.”   “Hmm, I’ll search for a different place.” You’re already beginning to plan for the next trip, trying to consider all the locations that you’ve been to before. Typically, Jimin’s the mastermind behind the plans, strategizing and making arrangements, but lately you’ve been helping him. With time, things are becoming more complicated. “We should...aim higher.”   Taehyung picks up a stick to hurl, throwing it far like he wants a non-existent dog to catch it, and then quirks his head over to you. “What do you mean?”   “I dunno.” You shrug. “I just...I don’t know how long this can last us. There’s only so much petty theft and scamming we can do and there’s only so many restaurants and people to steal from. Every other day, we’re doing this and I think we should...invest.”   Jimin stares at you. “Invest?”   “We should do something bigger.” The more you talk about it, the more excited you get and so does Taehyung. You open your arms wide to the horizon of the sky, letting the sun beam down on you even if it doesn’t provide much warmth on this chilly day. The possibilities seem endless and your blind confidence extends even more so. “Like one giant scheme and be done with it! We wouldn’t have to keep stealing little by little, and we’d be rich!”   “I like the sound of that.” Taehyung’s humongous grin is infectious, and he turns to his other partner in crime. “What do you think, Chim? One big scheme, and we’d be swimming in cash! We’d buy a mansion somewhere in the mountains or something! All three of us living it up for the rest of our lives!”   “Maybe. We would need to plan a lot though.” Jimin smiles and you both watch as the gears in his head begin turning. “And as usual, we would only take from criminals or the wealthy. Not the poor or innocent.”   “I think we can agree on that,” Taehyung says, and you nod along. It goes quiet for a moment, Jimin considering the prospects while you wonder about the future. Then suddenly, Taehyung stops in his tracks. “Oh my god.”   “What?”   “What’s wrong?”   The pair of you are immediately on alert. The boy’s jaw has dropped, his eyes squinted into the distance like he thought of the best idea that’ll land everyone into a whirlwind of success but—   “That cloud looks like a perfect square! Do you see that?! Look!”   He’s pointing to the sky and then takes off, running and shouting about how it’s even possible. You and Jimin exchange looks and mutually sigh. “Why is he such an idiot?”   “God knows.” The boy beside you laughs, a chirpy sound that rings pleasantly in your ear, and after a moment, he peels off his navy blue hoodie, draping the fabric over your head. “Put it on.”   “What?” His scent has completely enveloped you but you tug on it, holding it in your hands to stare at him. “What about you?”   “I’m okay.” He smiles, his black and white striped shirt oversized on his body and the sleeves almost reaching to the end of his fingertips. If he’s cold, he doesn’t show it. “I know you don’t like wearing dresses and you look like you’re freezing.”   “Thanks,” you grumble in a pout, putting the sweater on and glad that it does indeed shield you from the brisk breeze. “Hey, Jimin.”   “Hmm?” When you suddenly stop, leaving Taehyung wandering ahead by himself, Jimin halts as well. He turns to face you, concern written across his features. It’s not often that you call him so softly and quietly. “What’s the matter?”   You reach down and over, taking his soft hand and opening up his palm. “Take it.”   He looks down at the crumple of cash, your share, now in his possessions. You let go and Jimin lifts his chin, his eyes boring in yours, gazing deep into your irises. “But what about you?”   “I don’t need it. I know your mom needs it more and it’s not like I have parents. So…” You give a meager shrug, diverting your vision elsewhere, away from his intense eyes and you begin to walk again. “I’d rather put it to good use. Just take it.”   He catches up with your quick strides, the corner of his mouth upturned. “Thank you.”   “Uh-huh.” You try to evade the touchy-feely conversation that you sense is arising. “Yeah.”   “No, I mean it, Y/N.” But unlike so many times before, this time, Jimin doesn’t let you brush it off. He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, stopping you mid-step, and then he turns you, reaching over until your chin is hooked on his shoulder, and he’s hugging you. “Thank you.”   It’s a bit awkward — at least for you it is. His arms are wrapped around your back, and he’s holding you so close, in a way that you’re not used to. You’re standing stiff as a board, arms at your side, even leaning away, backwards, from his touch but Jimin doesn’t let you escape. Your cheek is squished against his and the brat is practically squashing you for dear life, utilizing the rare chance he has at embracing you.   His murmur tickles your ear, “I don’t know what I would do without you or Tae. Thank you for being with me.”   At this age, your heights match….well, you’re sure that you’re a bit taller than him (despite Jimin arguing otherwise) — though, you’re also certain one day he’ll outgrow you. He’ll be taller, stronger, more reliable. You’re looking forward for such a day to arrive.   “Uh-huh.” You begin to ease, relaxing and even welcoming his affection. Jimin and Taehyung were always clingy from the beginning, the former more towards you, but even after four years, it still catches you by surprise. “Are you gonna cry?”   “I don’t know. Maybe.”   You can practically hear Jimin smiling and your own lips begin to move against your will. “You’re gonna get your own hoodie wet.”   When Jimin realizes that you won’t peel him off just yet, he steals the opportunity and nuzzles into you, digging his face into your shoulder and breathing in your scent. “Don’t care.”   If you were completely honest with yourself, you don’t know what you would do without the pair of them either. Those two idiots are the biggest blessing of your life. “Taehyung’s gonna make fun of you.”   “I don’t care about that either.” It’s weird for him to be hugging you in the middle of nowhere, next to some train tracks and a grassy field that’s been trashed by litter. Moreover, the minute Taehyung snaps back to reality and wanders back, whining about how slow you two walk, only to realize that you’re hugging, his face will twist in disgust, and he’s gonna complain even louder.   ‘Ewwwww, what the hell are you guys doing?! Gross! Get outta here!’   But like Jimin, you find yourself not caring either. For once, you savour the comfort Jimin provides, raising your hands to pat him gently on his back, something you’re aware his mother does.   He hums for a moment and then finally pulls away, smiling at you so brightly that his face might break. “You know, you act really mean and hardcore sometimes, Y/N, but I know that’s all fake.”   “What?”   Jimin giggles and ruffles your hair, making a mess of your head and patting you like you’re his pet. You immediately scowl, slapping his hand away, but he isn’t deterred. “You’re really sweet and kind.”   With that simple statement, he begins to walk away and you’re left baffled, jaw slack and you barely manage to keep up. “Am not!”   “Are too!”   “You’re a dumbass, Jimin!”   The boy hums a small note and tips his head to the side, looking off at Taehyung’s backside, who’s now chasing a dragonfly zooming across the field. “Maybe for you I am.”   Blind. Perhaps being ignorant to the cruel reality, to suffering and pain, the bleak future that is dawning upon all of you, isn’t so bad. Being trapped in your little, happy universe is all you need. Being with Jimin and Taehyung is all you could’ve asked for.

[neosy]

The fireworks have started, large and loud and booming bright kaleidoscopes across the sky, a mesmerizing sight to anyone watching, except your muse, who seems distracted. He’s noticed that he’s being followed by someone for the past hour, no indication of why, but instead of enjoying the celebrations, your muse decides to take matters into his own hands and get the upper hand of the situation. He lures his follower into a secluded space behind a tall building, before rounding on them and catching them off-guard.

What your muse isn’t expecting however, is that they aren’t alone and the stakes become one against three. They attack your muse, all of them wearing grey sleeveless outfits, tattoos and piercings on display, but your muse manages to take them on, bloody fists and the sound of gunshots hidden behind the roaring of fireworks in the distance. Two of them go down before the third one gets behind your muse and stabs them in the neck with a syringe, the liquid stinging as it enters the bloodstream, forcing unconsciousness to overtake him.

When he wakes up again, he is tied to a chair, sitting across from AQUILA CANON, in the middle of a stone-bricked room. There is no door or windows, only a single hanging light.

the night bled into him with a swirl of color, air crackling with energy as he spread himself over the span of the festival and beyond it, never staying in one place for too long. it rang a familiar nostalgia, a chaotic participation in all activities from planned to illicit. he used to be known for it, used to show his pale wrists and see it running blue through his veins, the spontaneity, the elevated aggrandized narcissism and indulgement, borderline gluttony, of self-satisfaction that anyone specialized in psychoanalysis would have a field day with. the masturbation of his ego and charisma, peaking at his worst as he shuffled through crowds and made friends with deviants, tossed around money he didn’t have and possessions that didn’t exist, rolled the die and cracked a gratified smile; for the first time in years he felt rejuvenated, familiar. 

he could taste the adrenaline in the air, the twisted comfort inside those around him as a frugal man became a demon on the poker table. the beauty of the city was nothing if not just background noise, the lights and the events becoming nothing but a setting to the real show that went on under the layers of pretty dresses and fat wallets, and neo was center stage. he attracted attention for more than his pretty face and smiles, but most of the people who looked had no idea what they were really seeing, what it was he truly got up to, when unleashed on the planet – a thunderstorm whose sound boomed too far after the lightning had already struck. 

his erratic movement made it easy to spot, took too short a time to notice with only slight looks over his shoulder, not paying much attention until he was given no other choice. he was everywhere, like a shadow trailing him everywhere he went, face covered and shoulders hunched like someone who didn’t want to be found as he stalked him, turning every corner he did, watching the figure slide into rooms and alleyways just as he did. it put a bitter taste in his mouth, fingers knuckling at his sides. at first he tried to lose him, weaved in busy areas and left through different entrances, made himself as snake-like as his body would allow as he moved through crowds as if he were liquid, but the man didn’t falter, steps just as quick, just as agile and his obsession festered into something hot. he begun feeling like a caged animal, momentary freedom infringed upon and he felt his pistol grow heavier in his clothes, weighed him down as he made a decision.

he excused himself from his new group, parted ways with every individual besides his crew that knew his face. he liked dealing with things where no one else could get in the way.

he found somewhere nice and secluded, the darkness in the sky dotted with bright stars and tall buildings, cast dark shadows that required his eyes work just a little bit harder, focus with just a little more precision. he faced away from his pursuer, his hand reaching into his shirt before he turned, his eyes analyzed everything in his radius for movement, for the man he knew he was somewhere hidden behind him. he smiled. 

“don’t be shy on my account. step right up.” he said, fingers closed on the weapon as he spotted something, a quick pull of his gun as he pointed it at the blur of the other man, teeth sharp like razors as they finally made contact, both firearms drawn and pointed from opposite stances, but there some something different about the other’s weapon. a whizzing could be heard in the distance before the crack of the first firework of the night, dazzling the sky and deafening his ears. a perfect cover, too perfect timing. “there you are. have fun watching me? i know i can be awfully entertaining.” he tsked his tongue. “i should warn you though, you pull that trigger there’s going to be consequences, and i’d hate for us to start off this relationship with punishments.”

it wasn’t a normal gun nor blaster. the barrel was thicker, stretched out further, and neo found he had no fucking idea what it would shoot. it was a frustrating and alarming realization.

do one better, baby, count the bullets in your gun.

those gunshots fired for fun earlier in the day brought a certain lightness to his hand. if he counted properly he estimated he had about a good four bullets left in his chamber.

there was a long stretch of silence and neo tried to view as much of his peripheral as he could, not breaking the eye contact as they stood locked in a standoff of sorts, but neo couldn’t help the feeling that something was off, the way the man stood, the energy he emitted. another loud crack rung overhead. he spotted another shadow on the wall behind him and he felt the heat seep in, not like panic but instead like a warning shot straight to his trigger, so he pulled it and dropped down as quickly as he could, felt a body collide with his as he rolled out of the way. three bullets left. he heard the mysterious gun shoot and looked up quickly enough to see it was not a bullet that was fired through the air. it was long, part needle and part barrel, and he suddenly realized they wanted him alive.

that was somehow far more jarring.

his own bullet hadn’t met his target anywhere important, a graze in the shoulder that left a nasty wound nonetheless, bloody and open. he didn’t falter, twisting his body with the new attackers sharply, legs twisting painfully around his waist, a struggle with heavy breaths to wrap his arm around his neck in a choke hold, cutting off oxygen as he tried to use the body as a shield against the first attacker. then he heard another pair of feet.

there was usually a moment in every fight when it came down to realizing that perhaps you fucked up, that your chances were slim to none, that it might be best to surrender. 

however, neo didn’t have time for those moments.

he shifted position again, just as quickly, arm still locked around one mans throat to block the first attackers angle as he fired two shots at the third. one missed but the other found itself lodged into his stomach and he crumbled. one bullet left. he turned away from him and tried to twist into a better position, sitting further up as the second man cracked his fists against his arm, trying to escape and neo felt his energy slipping. he put his gun to the man’s head and put the last bullet into him, throwing the body to the side and standing quickly. empty. he tried to dodge fire as he pulled the trigger one last time to ensure it clicked empty before flinging the pistol as the armed man’s face as hard as he could manage, hearing a pleasing crack of a nose being crushed by the weight of his barrel and the strength of his pitch before reaching towards him quickly. 

he took the distraction as an opportunity. he threw a leg over the first man’s arm, squeezing his elbow between his legs and effectively forcing him to his knees and pulling the gun from his grasp before emptying two tranquilizer darts into his body, one in his head and the other into his chest before dropping him, taking a few steps back with heavy breaths, chest heaving. he thought he was safe, mistook it for over but in the rush he’d forgotten about someone. the fireworks were too loud, too bright, and he didn’t see or hear him coming, a hand held over his stomach and syringe in hand.

that was a mistake.

attacker number two, the resilient little bitch, caught him by surprise. he felt a sharp sting in his neck, a choked noise leaving his mouth as the world tilted and swayed, and then nothing.

wake up, see the world around you, see how it morphs.

nothing came as painful and head-pounding as waking up with the remnants of tranquilizer. it stung it’s way through his system, his body aching from more than just the physical exertion. it hurt like hell, something of a groan leaving his mouth as he squeezed his eyes, forcing them to open and adjust in the light of a room the most unfamiliar, tried to move his stiff body just to find it restrained.

the situation wrapped around his hazy mind quickly, fought through the exhaustion and the pain as he blinked into the single light, arms tugging on the ties around his wrists, eyes shifting before falling to someone similarly bound, squinting. it was a girl, a familiar face no matter how little he saw it.

“sonmi?” it was a question that came perhaps too roughly, a little too abrasively in a way that could be contrived as threatening, though he hadn’t really meant it that way. it was more shock than anything else.

it was with that that he had another realization, how frustrating and alarming as a gun he couldn’t recognize; this wasn’t about him. it was about serenity.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

can you do a Harry blurb on the last ask? like about the missus being insecure and it causing a small fight between them. it starts with them just having a stressful day and she's getting lots of comments about Harry being too good for her and she gets angry with him even if it's not his fault. she says am i not good enough and are you only here for our daughter and am I holding you back blah blah and it ends with a bath and him making sure she KNOWS that she's the ONLY one for him

Stemmed from this answer.

He hates fighting with her.

And she hates fighting with him.

But it’s been building up and building up and building up within her, for ages and ages and ages, and she’s struggling to keep her emotions trapped inside of her to keep something from blowing up; having to shift between having time to herself to recuperate and looking after their poorly two-year old, who had come down with the sickness bug, and packing up their belongings from tiny, first-bought, flat for moving day, it was safe to say that she was juggling more than she could handle. Unwillingly letting people help because she thought she could do it. Her day having gone from okay, and incredibly productive without a single rest being taken, to terrible, and exhausting and had her wanting the day to be over already, in the span of a few hour. 

His day hadn’t gone much better; with Christmas and New Year around the corner, band meetings, and travelling to the American office to speak with the bosses, were much more frequent and taking him away from what would have been spent as a productive day at home. A day that would have included plenty of cuddles with his poorly daughter to get her feeling herself again, had instead included a lot of signing his autograph and reading contracts over and planning appearances and a tour and award events that they would perform at. He’s tired when he steps through the door… but he knows he won’t be getting a rest squeezed in before dinner… deciding that sitting down would only make him worse and freeing his hands, of his keys and his wallet, to help her move packed up and heavy boxes from one room to the next.

“I don’t need help with this, okay? I’m fine doing things by myself. Been doin’ it all bloody day without anyone here. Have to do, at least, something in this fucking relationship to make me not look like I can’t do anything,” she hisses beneath her breath. He knows, deep down, that it’s not a dig at him, but it feels that way and it doesn’t stop the frown from pulling his features together, “have always been doin’ stuff alone whilst you gallivant your way around the world. There’s nothing new there,” she mutters, “do you even think about me and Amelie or do you just think about yourself? Do you even miss us when you’re gone all day, all week, all fucking year, or are your text messages not coming through to see how we are?”

“Oi, no. Hey, where’s all of this coming from? What’s gotten you so angry?” He grabs her hands, stopping her from piling up tea-towels from the kitchen area. Her eyes rolling in her head as she tugged them from his hold. “Don’t get angry with me. I’ve not had much of an easy day, either.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. So, poor Harry’s had a shit day at work. What’s new?” She retorts. Confusion taking over the frown as he followed her through to the living room, on stand-by in case she dropped anything. “Try being a mum to a poorly two year old who’s throwing up all the time and never wants to leave your side. Try packing up a home into crap boxes that got damp in the storage unit. Try being a proper boyfriend who wants to help other than a boyfriend who thinks it’s okay to leave his girlfriend struggling when she needs help. To leave her at home whilst he parties with the pretty girls and has the time of his life. Try having your life criticised every single second of the day, Harry. Then talk to me about not having much of an easy day.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he warns her, grabbing hold of her shoulders to keep her in place and to stop her from wandering away from him. His voice deep and rough and extremely hard in tone. Green eyes no longer homing confusion but instead anger. “What the hell is your problem tonight?”

“My problem is you! It’s all you,” she wiggles in his hold but to no avail. His hands clamping down tighter. “Everything that happens, every nasty thing that happens, is your fault, okay? I’m never good enough for anything you do. I’m never good enough for you. You got me pregnant. You got famous and got thousands of horrible fans who forget I’ve got feelings. You go out every night and leave me at home, like I’m just the babysitter of your kid. You’re always being seen with models and you don’t care who sees it. You’re the reason my life never went the way I wanted it to go!”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it takes two to make a baby! Maybe we should have waited for a kid because clearly you know nothing about biology,” he snaps, dropping his hands to his side and huffing out a heavy breath, coming short as she pushes his chest and storms away from him. In the direction of their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. “You don’t get to walk away from me! You can’t just blame me for everything, not tell me what is happening, and walk away! We’re in this together! You tell me everything. You don’t just erupt on me as soon as I walk through the front fucking door!”

He hears a muffled ‘fuck you’ come through the bedroom door, before a pillow comes into contact with the oak. His daughter, crying out for her daddy, soon sounding around the tiny flat that catches his attention. Guilt flooding through him as he poked his head into her bedroom and saw her sat up on her bed, sick bucket on the floor, with wet cheeks and knotted hair. 

“Daddy,” she cries, arms stretched out as her hands clamp into fists, her voice hoarse and rough, “daddy, m’sick.”

“I know, little love. I know. You’re not feelin’ so good, are you? I’m sorry me and mummy woke you up from your nap,” he coos, striding across the floor and perching down on the edge of her bed, letting her climb into his lap as he held her tightly, “c’mere. I love you, yeah? Love you and yeh mummy so much.”

“Shoutin’?”

“Me and mummy were just talking, okay? Nothin’ for you to worry about, alright? There won’t be anymore shouting, ever again, I promise you, little love,” he hums softly, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead and letting his nose nudge into her hair. Cuddling her close as she curled up on his thighs. “Mummy’s done so good in looking after you today, hasn’t she? M’sorry I wasn’t here to help her. I wanted to be, but, work had me all day so I could make money for you both. So I can spoil you rotten with Christmas presents and birthday treats,” he grins softly as she looks up at him, sleepy eyes glossing over as she tried to fight the tired feeling, “go back to sleep. M’still here and I’ll always be here, okay? Never have to worry about me disappearing anywhere. Love yeh, and I love yeh mum, to absolute bits.”

It’s not long before Amelie has passed out and it’s not long after that, when he’s tucking her back up into her bed and tiptoeing out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him, whilst making sure her night-light was switched on. His hand wrapping around the door to their main bedroom, seeing his girlfriend curled up on her side as he scuffed through room and towards the en-suite bathroom.

“You’ve got some nerve telling our daughter all that and then coming in here,” she murmurs and he ignores the pang in his heart, “what makes you think I want to see your face?”

“I’m doing what I do best and looking after you because you need to relax. You’re stressed from everything and upset with what’s being said online and that’s not okay. I don’t like it, at all, when you’re grumpy and angry. I’m running you a bath and I’m going to call up the Chinese and get us a takeaway and I’m going to finishing packing this place up so that you don’t have to worry,” he informs her, flicking on the bathroom light and disappearing into the room, “and you, you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened and what’s been said and we’re going to work through this like adults, yeah? We’re going to apologise to one another, we’re going to forget it happened, and we’re going to enjoy this process of moving from this tiny flat to our first big home.”

There’s silence that swallows the both of them, apart from the occasional creak of the bed as she gets up and the squeak of a floorboard as she walks closer to the bathroom and it’s broken when she sighs softly and wraps her arms around his waist from behind. Holding him and squeezing him tightly as he stands straight from twisting the faucets on.

“I don’t feel good enough for you. You have all these pretty women throwing themselves at you and looking at you with their tongues wagging and I hate it. It makes me feel like I’m nothing compared to them. I hate knowing that you could drop me and Amelie at a bat of their eyelashes because they’re beautiful and skinny and don’t have kids. You could wake up one morning and realise that m’not what you want. That Amelie isn’t what you want,” she whispers, muffled against his t-shirt, “people are always telling me that you could do better. That I’m tearing you down and that I’m holding you back from what you really want. They hate me,” her voice cracks, and at the same time, so does his heart, “and I don’t want them to hate me because of the fact that I love you. I want to be good enough for everyone. But I don’t.”

“I love you so much. I don’t think it’s even possible to stop,” he admits, twisting in her arms and wrapping his own around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest. Lips pressing against her cheek. “I don’t need a model or a pretty woman because I have my own. In fact, I have two pretty women in my life. You and a little lady who looks so much like you that it scares me half to death, sometimes. Are all of our kids going to look like you?” He chuckles softly, feeling her snicker under her breath, “you’re always going to be good enough for me. If they don’t get that, then, that’s their problem. Me and you know what’s best for each other, yeah? I love you. I wouldn’t dream of ever getting rid of you.”

“Even if someone really fit and skinny with the biggest boobs came towards you?”

“Not even if Rihanna walked passed me. Why would I need someone else when I’ve already got an absolutely lovely and beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend in my life?” He pulls away and looks down at her, a sheepish smile on his lips. “Especially when said lovely and beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend gave me an incredibly gorgeous little girl. How could I ever ruin a life that I deem as a perfect, huh? S’only perfect because I’ve got you two.” xx

[smithya93-blog]

Bird Brained- Chapter 7

Maze was cold.

Had he dreamt a live of luxury inside the Capitol's palace walls? He sat up, but his hands sank into the snow around him. It was spring, wasn't it? An open expanse of wintery tundra surrounded him. The chilly wind beat at him as he struggled to stand. The tundra was lit in an eery midnight glow, as if the sun had turned purple overnight. Where was he?

He began to walk, trudging through the uneven ground in what he hoped was south. He couldn't actually see the sun, where the light was coming from. Before him rose a steep structure, like a pyramid but with six sides. Maze couldn't remember the name for that, hexagon? It didn't matter, he approached it regardless of its geometric makeup hoping to get out of the freezing air.

He heard movement, the sound of feet marching.

Behind him figures moved on the horizon. Thousands, millions maybe if he had the time to count. Spanning miles, they lumbered along in single mindedness. The scene sent a wave of fear through him. He was defenseless, nowhere to hide and the hord was gaining on him quickly.

He ran.

As fast as his feet would carry him he ran south. His breath freezing in his lungs, the newly human legs unused to the strain of such movement. He needed to keep going, but he wasn't getting anywhere. The Hoard approached him closer and closed in by the second. He needed to get past that structure, toward the shadowy Divide on the horizon before him. He was so far away, the peaks barely rising over the frozen land. The sound of his blood beat in his ears. He would never reach it.

His vision went white.

      The morning hit Maze like a ton of bricks. He had decided against sleeping in his nest and woke suffocated by bedsheets. Right couldn't hold onto being human in his sleep.

It was much too early for anyone else in the castle to be up. But after that dream, he didn't really want to go back to sleep anyway. He went to the showers. Opening the door revealed he was not alone, a cloud of steam blocking his vision.

"Morning." His voice was croaky and his eyes filled with sleep as he greeted his compatriot.

Maze could make out the figure of Ruit, despite having completely pressed himself against the shower wall with only a view of his backside. The shorter man was hiding his face wrapping his arms around himself. He glanced over at Maze with a look of almost fear in his eyes.

"You okay man"

"Please come back later."

"It's a communal shower.."

"I know but please" his voice cracked like he might cry.

"Are you okay... like for real?"

"I don't want to be seen naked"

"I am also naked it's not like I don't know what's going on down there."

"You actually don't so please leave."

This was unexpected. Watching Ruit interact with Lonan and Lekan he found him to be stubborn, brash and proud. But in this moment he looked.. for lack of a better word defenseless. He rewrapped the towel around his waist.

"I'll wait outside. Stop anyone else from coming in." the other man seemed to relax a little at the gesture.

"I would appreciate it."

Maze took his leave and waited until Ruit emerged. He paused beside Maze having gotten fully dressed inside the steaming room. "Don't say anything about this to anyone else."

"Why would I?"

"To compromise me"

"Compromise you? What does that even mean?" He cocked his head looking Ruit over, his short cropped hair was pushed up and messy from the shower and his clothes were cockeyed having been pulled on in the warm damp room.

"I'm.. It's complicated"

"Spell it out for me?"

Ruit scoffed and stormed off. That was an interesting exchange. He showered and got himself ready for the day without thinking about it again until he returned to his room. Ruit was rifling through his empty dressers. "You have no belongings?"

"What the hell.. Why would I?"

"I need blackmail"

"What is your problem"

He paced the room back and forth for a moment seeming to fight with himself.

"You want me to spell it out for you?"

"I don't particularly care either way..." he grabbed the clothes that had been brought for him and started to get dressed.

Ruit turned his back to Maze in embarrassment. "However, you seem to be uncomfortable and fighting some weird internal battle.. so if you want to talk about it.."

"I wasn't.. born a man" His fists were clenched staring at his feet.

Oh.. OH well now he felt like a jerk. He continued getting dressed quickly waiting in case Ruit wanted to say anything more. When he remained silent he clapped the other man on the shoulder.

"Just let me know if you need a shower guard."

"Eye for an eye."

"What?"

"Tell me a secret about you so we're even."

"What are you ten?"

"No I'm cautious"

He shook his head. This kid was unbelievable.

"Okay... um... I didn't leave the regalia to find myself.. I ran away."

Ruit turned around "Were you scared?"

Maze felt that was an opportunity to bond with the feelings Ruit was displaying so he nodded.

"I still am, about a lot of things.. but I've decided to stop running."

Ruit seemed satisfied by that response.

"That's kind of humiliating"

"Yeah, so it would suck if that got out"

"You guard the shower and I'll guard how much of a pussy you are"

"Bold words coming from you."

Ruit laughed smacking his shoulder and headed out to the balcony. "Thanks."

"Whatever"

He jumped down to his own terrace using the bedsheet rope he had climbed up with. The kid could have used the door, but he was quite stubborn.

At dinner that night Ruit took the seat beside Maze eating silently.

--

Maze was growing fond of court. Hanging onto Lekans shoulder as they debated points on how the region should or shouldn't be run. The Guards and Ulyss weren't around to baby or smother Lekan. The prince was in his element here. Arthula had given Lekan the reins to hold court today while she spent her attention on other matters. Matters that she had been incredibly cryptic about.

"I disagree with this motion." a congressman stood addressing Lekan informally "The idea that taxes should be staggered based on income alone is preposterous. The upper class already have far too many taxes to deal with as it is, layering on more based on their income would surely knock down funding to charitable causes."

Lekan looked up at the man bemused. "Oh? You think so, I believe that siphoning a portion of funds from the uber wealthy will help to steady the economy. Lower income families are noted to spend more often than the wealthy."

"The wealthy are spending their money on taxes, for their homes, and accoutrements.. Things of high value that bring culture and pride to our region.. Not five pieces for groceries here and there" The man laughed "It is foolish to think that-"

"But they don't bat an eye at buying groceries." Lekan interrupted the man holding up his hand. "The upper class spend their money on frivolous things because they don't have to worry about feeding their families. Why would it make sense to tax people who don't have the money for it?"

"Well their taxes go to paying for their healthcare and education. It's not like they don't have the opportunity to make more money, if the tree grows fruit too sweet it will eventually rot."

"Maybe, but these are people, not apples. And I don't believe it is right to tax people more than is appropriate for their level of income." "The wealthy have worked hard for their money" The man was starting to shout. "Why would you steal from them what they have worked so hard for?" "Inheritance requires no work." Lekan sighed.

"If an estate draws in no income then they would run out of funds!" "Sounds like a rotten apple to me" a few members of congress chuckled at the princes remark.

"You are mistaken young man." The congressman leaned over the table belittling the soon to be king with his mother out of the room. "These people come from generations of hard working individuals who wanted the rest of their line-"

"That's enough Gorem, I hear your concerns but it sounds like a selfish desire to hold onto money that could be distributed to public works and fund the growth of our kingdom." He sat back. "It would do you some good to live off of the wage of a common farmer or shopkeep, you know."

"As I stated before, the people have ample access to means to improve their lives." The man was getting angrier, his chubby face blossoming red with his intent. "Laying heavier taxes on the rich would ruin the economy, without their trade with the east and south we as a country could fall under!" "I fail to see how purchasing a hand painted portrait of yourself contributes to our economy, especially if you belittle the artist into working for less than their worth." Lekan folded his arms. "I know of your background in case you forgot."

The man sputtered at the direct insult. "What would you know of that! You are a child. Your inability to hear reason will be your downfall."

Maze preferred to keep himself quiet during court, but this guy was crossing a line. He squawked a warning. Standing up on Lekans shoulder and squawking again.

"Disgusting bird."

Lekan remained stony faced reaching up to cover his beak, silencing him. "My crow is not easily riled up like this, I don't think he agrees with you" a few more muffled chuckles arose from the congress.

Gorem huffed "Well if we are all taking advice from birds now we might as well follow the desert vulture and pick off corpses." He slammed his fist on the table.

Lekan ruffled Mazes chest feathers trying to get himself to relax. "I fail to hear any reason in your argument aside from self interest." Lekan tapped the arm of the chair as the man fumed. "Twenty pieces means more to a lower class citizen than you. If you both have to pay the price of twenty pieces in taxes, you will be fine. Your income will be stable, and you can still afford your paintings and accoutrements. A regular civilian may have to forgo a meal or medication." "The upper class deserve to be treated as such!"

"We need to feed people, and see they are taken care of. The people come first."

"And what do we do when everyone in the kingdom just gives up knowing their precious king will be happy to hand feed them for the rest of their lives. Where is the restraint!"

"Allowing people to prosper in their given interests is what brings about progressive action and gives people the desire to work where they like.. Instead of following a trail of money to excess or exhaustion." Lekan stood to his full height. Not his usual smaller that he was humbling posture. His full magnificent height "I would rather my people live comfortably within their means and be able to afford to live the way they choose than-"

"YOU FOOL you are not even king and yet you sit here and spoil your region to ruin. You are still a child not yet fit to be a ruler." He fumed leering down at Lekan. "You think that giving the people everything on a platter will fix their problems?"

"I want people to have the funds and resources to fix their problems. They will contribute if you give them a society worth contributing to!"

"A society where excelling financially is frowned upon because you are taxed in excess! Unbelievable your smothering charity will-" One of the Congresswomen reached out to try and quell the angry speaker. He retaliated with a curt slap to her hand.

That was the last straw for Lekan. "You may disrespect me to make yourself feel better, but you do NOT under any circumstances disrespect your fellows. I want you out of this courtroom and a replacement from your city appointed immediately."

The man swerved to retaliate but found himself face to face with the screaming crow.

"{GET OUT}" oh that one came out easy. "{GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT}"

The startled man backpedaled over his chair and onto the floor. He departed the room as quickly as his feet could carry him.

"Court is dismissed" Lekan left the room before the congress had finished bowing out.

--

It wasn't often Lekan needed to blow off some steam but he found himself in the fencing hall before long, practicing parries, thrusts and forms. The crow had taken off after seeing that the fight had died down and the threat had alleviated.

He felt disgusted with himself for getting so heated over the debate. This is why he hated congress, most were decent and held pleasant argument conceding when their point was overruled, some were just.. so aggressive. He wasn't object to new ideas and changes to law by any means but he held unwavering values that his people came first.

As he practiced his forms he tried to think of something else. The other pressing matter that was becoming annoyingly important. This business with Ulyss was starting to take over his life. He personally wanted to find someone special. Someone who meant more to him than anything else in the world. Their recent date lead them into the city to watch the lights festival. A considerate and emotional date. His face grew warm at the memory of Ulyss moving in at the crescendo of the festival, and the soft kiss they shared under the light of the fireworks. It hadn't been his first but it was certainly memorable.

Unfortunately Ulyss was not memorable. There wasn't anything in him that felt a particular way about the other man. He wanted the beautiful romance his father and mother had. Someone who brought him reprieve from tense moments like these and broke up his monotonous daily life.

He sat on the worn mats of the gym taking a break, had he ever even met anyone that made him feel that way? Was he idolizing this idea of the perfect man too much. What if he found someone and they were just using him for a step up in the world, as Ulyss was clearly aiming for.

Maze came to mind.. he hadn't stopped thinking about that elusive stranger since his sudden arrival into his life. He seemed to be hard to track down. Never in his chambers, always in some other part of the castle but never lounging. Its like he took sprints around the halls to see how quickly he could vanish from room to room. Maze was a complete mystery to him. He was ever intrigued by the mans jovil and sarcastic demeanor. It had to have been him that night he was attacked, whether it was a hallucination or something else. His presence seemed to swim in the back of his mind at all times.

"Sparring alone is kind of pointless isn't it?"

He spun around to see the devil himself perched in the doorway. Lekan was glad to see that someone had been bringing him new clothes. His long black shirt dipping down to show, at length, his chest. It seemed to be way too big for him, but it was almost endearing. He noticed the bandages wrapping the man's chest were gone. Lupit was doing a good job in patching him up at least.

Maze noticed the gaze "Your sister lent me something of yours to wear.. she insisted it after she saw my feather cloak for the third time." He laughed "She's entertaining"

"You've been making friends with my family?" He pushed the thought of Maze wearing his old clothes from his mind quickly.

Maze shrugged "Didn't intend on it. She sort of pushed her help onto me." He picked up a spare saber from the holder to the side of the ring.

"Would you like a partner who only knows how to fight with a longsword?"

"You... use a longsword"

Maze nodded. "I find them funny."

"Why?"

"they're like regular swords but big."

"how is that funny?"

"I don't know.. why did they feel the need to make a sword size in between regular and broad."

Lekan laughed. " But your arm is broken?"

"Well it's a good thing I'm a lefty and fencing only requires one hand."

Lekan shrugged and got into position. "Should I explain the rules?"

"Please."

They spared for a while, Maze making an excellent fool of himself and losing many times. He was impressed by the giants power but mostly with the speed and precision in which he was able to control himself. He would be a terror on the battlefield.

When Maze finally called uncle he was dripping with sweat. "Wow, who would have thought a giant like you would be so fearsome in the ring."

Lekan laughed "Is it that surprising?"

Maze shrugged "You interact with things like the slightest gust of wind might break them. But here your like.. some kind of.." he paused trying to think of the right word.

Lekan had taken a seat beside him casually pulling his hair down to retie the bun. Maze watched the moment starstruck. His nimble fingers untangling the curls and corralling the falling bronze strands away from his dark glistening skin. The way his focus remained locked onto Maze even after sparring, those summer eyes so reminiscent of the valley spilling out at the feet of the Great Divide. The simple everyday moment felt like he was being given the opportunity to watch a god walk across water.

--

Maze was not good at fencing, at all. He was too forward rushing and didn't take any time to think about his actions. Just goal oriented on scoring the point, and yet Lekan found the engagement enjoyable. Maze responded well to criticism and by the end of the match he might have been considered an armature fencer. Even with a broken arm. The man took a seat on the floor commenting on Lekans ferocity in the ring.

Lekan knew his demeanor changed when he was in a match. He just felt less compelled to be gentle. It was the one time he could really let loose. He sat beside Maze listening to him as he spoke. His voice sounded as if he had used it loudly and gruffly most of his life. Like shouting was his primary source of communication. Despite that, the sound was oddly pleasant to listen to. The way birds singing in the morning could be taken to be annoying but also charming and beautiful. He had this way of speaking with bland humor that Lekan found incredibly appealing. He wanted to hear what Maze thought of the word. How his outlook on life left him in such a position of apparent apathy and sense of futility.

"You interact with things like the slightest gust of wind might break them. But here your like.. some kind of.." he paused for a moment seeming to scrutinize Lekan intensely before sighing out.

"Like a god"

Oh. That wasn't a new one but, it sounded so much better coming from his lips. Lekan laughed it off feeling the heat in his cheeks rising. "Oh.. I don't know about that."

Maze shrugged, "It's my compliment you don't get to decide how accurate it is."

Lekan waved his hand.

"I'm serious."

The prince went quiet playing with the blunted tip of his saber. "What do you think you've found here.. In this castle." Maze didn't know him. That was too high a compliment for him. He really didn't deserve that kind of-

"I've found someone who.. makes me want to abandon my apathetic sensibilities."

Okay now Maze was just talking out of his ass. There's no way Lekan would believe that.. but it wasn't a lie. "I might.. not know much about you yet, but I listen. To the people around you, to your family. To you." He shrugged, "I.. want to know everything about you" so he could stop pretending that he didn't already.

Lekan nodded "Okay.. I can believe that.. but I do believe you are idolizing me.. I am not.." he shook his head. "Nevermind.." he stood stretching. "This was fun.."

"Tomorrow?" Maze requested eagerly.

"Tomorrow?"

"Will you show me more tomorrow? I enjoyed the impromptu lesson" Maze stood with him ignoring the bead of sweat he watched trail down Lekans chest. The prince laughed nodding.

"Sure tomorrow." Maze beamed and Lekan felt a part of him melt. He hadn't seen that look from the newcomer and it was.. breathtaking.

----

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