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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

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Aaaah Reb!! Thank you so much for your comment!! I swear I was so excited to post this chapter!

Admittedly, I have been a bit of a sadistic when it comes to Tommy because you're not the first one to tell me you've believed it could have been a new beginning for him and Heaven. If I can be honest here, Tommy might be a prick and has been definitely awful with Heaven, but the way he melted in his arms was genuine. Unfortunately, he has been hurt in his pride when he rejected her. This, combine with his unhealthy way to cope with grief and with the pain of Grace's death led him to act like a douche again. 🙄

I am delighted and relieved that you think Tommy's attraction to Heaven is as logical as deeply engraved in him since the start because your theory about the thin line between lust and hatred is hundred percent accurate. Obviously, it isn't the sole reason for his passionate hatred but it's certainly the main one. However, he could have keep it for himself rather than KISSING HIS BROTHER'S WIFE. This is a very low move, utterly disrespectful for Arthur. But as it is implied in the subtext, he feels a sense of injustice when it comes to his brother. One thing is certain, Tommy had a massive fright and I'm pretty sure it has changed something in the way he will handle his relationship with Heaven.

To be honest, I ached a lot when writing the scene between Arthur and Heaven. They love each other so much that portraying them like this is painful. But if there's one thing I dislike in fanfiction it's straying too far away from the canon character. Arthur is an addict and he had to relapse at least once. Now, I'm not gonna say he'll end up like he does in S6 because no he won't, but it wouldn't have been right not to address the topic. Now concerning Heaven's self harm, I can tell you that even if it is a bit manipulative, it is not at all to make him suffer -- or at least not out of spite. In fact, she knows that her husband needs a reality check. He needs to see that his actions has direct consequences on the others. The reason behind her move was to make him understand. Rather than lecturing him, knowing it would have been useless, she went for a more graphic and brutal lesson. She's definitely scared for him and wants him to stop messing with drugs and since she knows he cannot handle when she's hurt, she used it to her own advantage. But the reason behind was noble, despite the unhealthy way to do it?? Not defending her, but trying to showcase the way her thinking process works teehee!

Thank you again for your detailed analysis and your adorable compliments, I'm constantly freaking out about my prose so I'm glad you like the way I write 🥹 Your comment was absolutely perfect -- And I am delighted I've managed to make you go through an emotional turmoil during your reading. Love you Reb 🖤

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: John is dead. Your whole world crumbles. Arthur and you are facing your first real argument, and everything grows out of control -- featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Words: 5.8k

TW: Extreme angst - read at your own risk, graphic depiction of violence, domestic violence, mention of drug use, canonical violence, graphic depiction of murder, major character death, self-harm, guilt trip, co-dependent relationship.

Notes:

✞ Read the notes at the end.

Previous || Masterlist || NEXT

The creaking which resounded in the whole morgue when the door opened sent shivers down Tommy’s spine. The infamous Peaky Blinders’ boss was standing next to the mortuary table, staring at the ashen face of his little brother, frozen in a peaceful expression. Although Tommy tried his best to remain neutral, the way his enchanting turquoise eyes gleamed belied his profound sorrow. A sorrow so distressing that he was not even able to express it – instead, his negative thoughts piled up inside of his already decaying heart. First Grace, then John… Tommy let out a long exhale from his nostrils while going on with his morbid contemplation. How many more deaths would he have to endure before his hunger for power was sated? “Fuck, I’m sorry John.” He whispered, softly pressing his large hand on his brother’s muscular shoulder. The sensation of John was cold and hard, even above the fabric of his blood-stained shirt, “It wasn’t supposed to happen.” His hand then reached for the funeral shroud and pulled it over his brother’s chest, which had been riddled with bullets. He did not want John to look weak, even in death. He wished for people to recall his joy and strength, not his troubled last moments. “I’m sorry.” He reiterated, offering a last apologetic look at his little brother before turning around at the sound of someone’s heels beating the cold tiled floor. Tommy’s forehead creased as he furrowed his brows: he had not been expecting anyone now that Arthur and Esme had left.

“Tommy.”

The hypnotizing and melodious voice that called him led him to briefly open his eyes wide in surprise — especially when he recognized its owner. And when he did, his face immediately hardened. It was only seconds later that he saw you walking towards him with hastened steps, rivers of tears still streaming down your angelic face. He didn’t know what surprised him the most though, to see you here in this morgue, to hear you calling him “Tommy” and not “Thomas” for the very first time, or maybe the unexpected way you threw yourself into his arms. In fact, it was certainly a bit of the three at once. As soon as your body collapsed with his, the gangster’s muscles tensed, and his placid expression shifted into a stunned one: your affection had taken him aback.

“Oh my God, Tommy…” You were crying your eyes out, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He could even feel the warm wetness of your tears on his skin, the little salty drops running down his chest and dying under his shirt. Esme had told him everything. Tommy blinked a few times to chase away the surprise and, gradually, his body relaxed as he felt your frail being snuggling against him, the freezing sensation of your dainty frame meeting the warm temperature of his skin even separated by the clothes you were wearing. He gave you a quick glance from above your head to check if what was happening was true and, finally, he sighed. As his arms wrapped around you softly, you felt like you were falling apart and, ironically, the only thing that held you together at this very moment was Thomas Shelby. The man you hated since day one.

“I’m here.” His quiet and deep voice simply stated, soon followed by his arms tightening around you and his fingers gently diving into your waist, not willing to let you go anymore. To hell with your mutual hatred, you thought, Tommy had just lost a brother and you wanted to be here for him too. Surely, all the ice of his heart couldn’t shield him from grieving a loved one.

What started as an awkward hug soon turned into a powerful embrace when Tommy indulged in your love. All the resent, all your past arguments, all the fear… The more you were pressing together, the more they were turned into dust, “I’m fuckin’ here.” One of his hands ran up your body only to rest on the back of your head, inviting you to nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck even more – which was what you did, desperately looking for comfort.

“I can’t… I can’t let him go. I don’t want to.” Your voice was merely a desperate whimper, for the uncontrollable sobbing and the ball of sorrow in your throat wouldn’t allow you to align more words. Another hiccup — The excruciating sadness almost suffocated you when you realized that John’s dry blood was still stuck under your nails.

“He’s gone, Heaven.” His words, stone cold, made you shake like a leaf, to the extent that Tommy was now certain you would shatter if he were not holding you. He started rubbing your back with his powserful free hand, the other clenching its fingers on the back of your head, “Listen to me.” He started, holding you firmly against his strong body: he was not going to let you all apart.

“They fucking shot him! Ces enculés lui ont tiré dessus!” You repeated in French, and of course he understood. He tried to hush your worries down but it didn’t work. Deaf to his attempt to comfort you, you gritted your teeth and let out a frustrated and painful cry. John was dead and your whole world felt like it was collapsing. Your little fists hit Tommy’s strong chest in a weak blow, anger taking over sadness as seconds passed. You were angry at him, at you, at Changretta, at the whole damn world. In truth, your mind didn’t know how to cope with grief anymore, and rather let you experience various emotions to test which one hurt the less. In response, the gangster restrained your movements by hugging you tighter and then, he brought his lips near your ear to keep you focused on him and only him.

“Hey, listen to me now.” He said with a firmer tone, catching your attention. You glanced at him and froze, realizing how dangerously close his face was, “I want you to calm down. You’re a fucking Shelby.” Despite his harsh words, Tommy’s tender caresses made amends for his toughness and managed to dry your tears up. His palms, then, wandered on your back and shoulders, stimulating every nerve of your quivering body to anchor you to reality, “There. Better.” He finally praised you, warming up your body with the sole power of his touch and rubs. Feeling calmer, you sniffed a little bit and tried to focus on the musky yet delicate fragrances of his cologne rather than on John’s corpse that was lying a bit further from you.

“Better.” You softly replied, surprisingly lulled by little King Shelby’s presence. A real miracle. Once comforted, you decided it was time for you to move your body from him and break the embrace though. After all, Tommy and you had never got along. Plus, you were pretty sure he wanted this to end as quickly as possible now that he had done his in-law duty. But, somehow, a little part of you still hope for this moment to improve your relationship from now. Maybe things wasn’t that hopeless? You were about to move but the gangster didn’t let you leave him. Quite the contrary, he pulled you closer until your breasts flattened against his chest and your cheek rested on his collarbone. Surprised, your lips parted but no sound came out.

“Stay.” Even though he did not mean it, his tone sounded like an order more than a request. Truth was, he couldn’t control it – the way his heart had quickened at the physical contact he was sharing with you unsettled him. As much as the thought that you came to him for comfort, not to your husband. Under the crushing weight of something he couldn’t name, Tommy delicately rubbed his perfectly shaven cheek against yours and buried his nose in your long white hair to get himself drunk with your spring-like perfume, “I’ll keep you out of sorrow, if you ask me,” He whispered, shutting his eyes tight and deepening his embrace again, until it became slightly painful. His thoughts swirled in his restless mind, and between plans for the Vendetta and the grief of John’s death, there was you. You and your intoxicating perfume. With his breath quickening and his lower lip trembling, Tommy allowed himself to sink into your softness, “And you’ll keep me out of it.” His husky voice was merely a murmur only you could hear. A soft whisper even the Grim Reaper, who was leaning over John and contemplating about where he was going to send him, did not catch.

“What do you mean?” You bated your doe lashes, confused at this sudden passionate demonstration of affection. But Tommy didn’t reply. In fact, he did not even hear a word you said for his mind was trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings and sensations that were drowning him. He felt like a sailor thrown into a raging see, desperately trying to keep his head above the water, and the only hope for him to survive was to cling onto you as hard as he could. The truth was it felt so good to have you in his arms, blessed with your holy and calming aura, that he had momentarily forgot what pain was like. For a split second, colors came back in his black and white life – something he hadn’t experience since Grace’s death. Letting out a relieved sigh, Tommy gently pulled his face away from you only for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes to dive into your celeste iris.

“It’s going to be alright, Tommy. It’s not your fault.” You stuttered, trying to comfort him too despite being slightly confused by his intense stare. Nevertheless, you could not help but commiserate with him, grief being one of the most universal human feelings to share. United in pain, you offered him a faint smile. The fearful gangster replied with utter silence – struck by the fact that he loved how his nickname sounded in your mouth. Only his brows frowned slightly as he watched you for the very first time: your big fair eyes, your long lashes, your plumped lips, the way your snow-white hair reflected the dull lights of the morgue… Last time he recalled having stared at you like this was during your first meeting, when his hand was wrapped around your throat. Worried by the unfamiliar ways he was looking at you, your little cold fingers grazed one of his hollow cheeks as softly as a feather’s caress to bring him back to his senses. A surge of electricity ran through his soul at the skin-to-skin contact. You touched him and, all of sudden, Tommy understood Arthur. He understood what he meant when he told him you were an angel. And after the epiphany came a moment of madness.

“No, it won’t.” He admitted with a sad tone you never suspected he was capable of. At his words, he finally gave in and broke the distance between your lips. Life flashed before your eyes, your brain momentarily ceasing to function at the soft press of his mouth. Tommy’s hand had wrapped itself around the back of your neck, keeping you from moving your face with one thick and strong palm. His kiss, eager but indescribably sensual, made your heart miss a small beat. It took you two solid seconds to realize what was happening, and one extra to push him away from you as he started to make it slow and deep with the wet stroke of his tongue. Forced to take a few steps back, his chest vibrated with a low groan of disappointment.

“No, Tommy.” You stuttered in a whisper, astounded by his bold and senseless move. Your fingertips grazed your swollen lips, still tingling with the sensation of his lips against yours, all the while your otherworldly pale eyes gawked at him wide open.

Tommy’s lashes fluttered, then he slightly shook his head to chase away the sweet torpor that had overtaken him for a short while. Regaining his composure, he clenched his jaws and tried to cope with your rejection. Admittedly, it had been a bit too much for him to handle. Why did he do that? What did happen in his goddamn mind? And how the hell could a woman say no to him? Unfortunately, Tommy couldn’t find any answer to these questions. All he found was frustration and anger, fueled by his unsufferable heartache of John’s death.

“No.” Tommy’s face closed up, going placid again while the blue of his iris turned two shades darker, “No” he repeated, trying his best to keep his emotions how he always did: hidden behind coolness, “So why did you come here and throw yourself in my arms?”

His question had taken you aback, for you didn’t expect him to wonder about such a trivial thing. Somehow, you wondered if he ever knew what the definition of platonic love was, or if all his interactions with women, except the ones from his family, always led him to their bed. “I just wanted someone to talk to...” Your eyes fled his, and you folded your arms to hug yourself, feeling suddenly freezing, “And I thought you’d maybe need someone too? I mean… I wanted to comfort you too. Just not—like this.” In truth, you were left agape by the whole misunderstanding. And by Tommy’s unfathomable mind.

Not minding that he was in a morgue, the King of Small Heath took of a cigarette from his pocket and rubbed it nervously on his lower lip before lighting it. Thoughts were now racing in his mind, along with your words. He could have dismissed the topic with a simple wave from his hand, but he couldn’t come to terms with how good you had made him felt for a few fleeting but intense minutes. Tommy’s chest rose and fell with rapid breath, for both shame and anger had crept into his bones. Why? He thought. Why did his brother had been allowed to meet you before he could? Why did Arthur, broken and fragile Arthur, had been allowed to have a loving woman by his side and not him? After all, he was the one who needed it the most. No, he was the one who deserved it the most. But now Grace was dead, all women he shared his bed with tended to leave an unpleasant after taste of ashes in his mouth, and the one he thought who could heal him didn’t want him. What kind of freaking curse was that? But in his inner turmoil and feeling of unfairness, Tommy forgot to take into account the real problem: you could do nothing for his heart. No one could.

“Alright then, you wanna talk? We gonna talk, ey. I wanna know something, Heaven. Why didn’t you save him ey?” A cloud of smoke escaped from his mouth, leaving you wondering if it was due to the cigarette or to his rage.

“Sorry?” You asked, feeling your shoulders tense.

He threw his cigarette further away before squinting his eyes as he talked to you “You resurrected a damn bird. Polly talked y’know. She told me you had the great power of healing, something that’s fucking rare. So why?”

“Why?! Why what?! What the hell are you implying?” You were starting to lose your patience, already fed up with his mean games. Moreover, your emotions was already all messed up with all the earliest events.

“Why the fuck didn’t you save John?! Why the fuck didn’t you bring him back to life?” His voice rose, resounding in the morgue so loudly that John probably heard it from where he was.

You blinked, astonished. “Because it doesn’t work like that, you fucking idiot!” You replied to his screams with louder ones, now troubling the dead’s final rest.

“Of course, it doesn’t. Isn’t it a bit ironic? I mean… For everyone, you’re a saint. For Arthur you’re a fucking angel, ey, even a divine being. But now that you have the occasion to use your wicked powers for something useful you can’t even do it!” His prose had turned into poison, seeping through your veins and contaminating soul.

“Thomas, stop it.” You begged, trying to remain calm. Surely, you didn’t want to argue right after John’s death. Especially not when he was there… You took a quick glance at his motionless body and your heart sank. Was it your fault?

“I told you what it is. You’ve bewitched all of them. You’ve bewitched me,” His eyes darkened, “All your so-called gifts come from the Devil... So come on! Bring John back to life, you fucking witch!” He was now pointing John with his index finger, “Bring him back now!”

“HIS HEART HAD STOPPED BEATING!” You howled, self-control breaking down.

“It doesn’t matter, you had let him die!”

“I didn’t!” You shook your head, rage taking over you, “It’s the blood. My witchcraft doesn’t come from the Devil, it comes from the fucking blood. From the human body. That’s what I manipulate. I could have done something if his heart had been still beating the slightest, or if it had just stopped. But it wasn’t the fucking case!” Tears of wrath left a moist trail on your skin as you wiped them away quickly with the palm of your hand, “He was dead for too long when I found him!” A short silence fell in the morgue after your attempt to justify yourself – Tommy didn’t buy it.

“It’s your fault.” He concluded in a quiet and low tone, desperately trying to both find someone to blame for his brother’s death, and wanting to make you pay for rejecting him.

“W-What?” His words had stabbed you right in the heart.

“It’s your fault if John is now lying in a fucking morgue, dead and cold. You have let him die.”

“I didn’t!” Your voice broke.

“You fucking did! Look at him now, look at his fucking corpse riddled with bullet! Look at the fuck you did, ey!” Tommy had stepped aside and pulled the shroud from John’s body. Doing so, he gave you full sight on his bloody chest, whose round bullet wounds were already darkening. Such a macabre spectacle momentarily broke the last bit of sanity you had left.

John, Oh John, your soul lamented.

“ENOUGH!” You yelled. The way your usually sweet voice screeched was so powerful, so inhumane that all the lights of the morgue flickered, rendering the place even more ominous than it already was. On top of the dancing lights, whose glow had been undermined by your own darkness, the atmosphere around Tommy thickened. The gangster swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly overtaken by an unpleasant and eerie feeling of unease. In other circumstances your brother-in-law’s change in behavior would have appease you. Especially when considering that shutting up was not in Tommy’s habits. Nevertheless, far too hurtful words and years of restrained spite got the best of you: from the moment you met to this one, Tommy had been nothing but bane. Anger rippled through you, hardening your maimed heart and blurring every notion of decorum you’d usually try to respect of Arthur’s sake, “You wanna make me your villain?” You had stopped screaming. Quite the contrary, your tone had turned from a bawling banshee to the quiet and sinister sigh of Death. With that last question posed, you extended one of your arms, palm facing Tommy, and spread your fingers, “I’ll give you a reason to fear me!”

At first, Tommy raised a brow wondering what the goal behind your move was. Then, the fact you dared to scream at him and insult him – certainly combined with your rejection – made rage coiled in his stomach. He opened his mouth, about to reply to your arrogance when words choked in his throat. Hit by a sudden and obliterating pain in the chest, Tommy pressed his hand were his heart was and looked up in terror as a thin trickle of blood started to run down one of his nostrils, dying his thin lips with a crimson color, “What—What are you doing to me?!” He stuttered, barely hearing his voice because of the sound of his own heart beating faster and faster echoed in his skull far too loudly. However, you didn’t answer him, far too consumed by the flames of your rage, licking though your delicate bones and dainty frame. With your hand still facing him, you started to close your fingers very slowly. Tommy coughed for each inch your fingers moved, his lungs were crushed harder in his tight chest. He wanted to scream – scream to let out the pain, scream to stop you, but the only noise he could make was muffled squeals, similar to an agonizing prey.

“Here is what I can do, Tommy! This is the pain I am capable to cause with my delicate and fragile little being! See? If I can heal, I can also make one sick and destroy them.”

“S—St—Stop...” He tried to beg, bloody mouth gaping, desperate for air. But this time he was not only met by your silence, but by the worsening of his pain to the extent that his legs were about to collapse. No, you didn’t want to stop. In fact, you wanted him to pay for everything. You wanted him to kneel.

“Beg.” Your voice echoed in the morgue and your eyes were staring coldly at Tommy Shelby who, crushed by the extreme pain you were exerting on his body, had no other choice than to rest one of his knees on the ground, right in front of you. The metallic taste of blood that kept running down his throat, thick and hot, enhanced his suffocating and labored attempt to breath. At this point Tommy had one certitude; you were going to kill him. Whether by a heart attack or by smashing his lungs to a pulp, it did not matter. What mattered was that, for the very first time since you met, he was at your mercy. Far too well he understood that all you had to do was to close your fist, and then he would end up lying down on the table next to John’s.

The shovels, the dirt in his mouth, everything came back to his mind as he fought to breath.

“Heaven!”

“Listen closely to what I’m about to say,” You spoke calmly, “I think I’ve had enough of your hypocritic ways and your unjustified battle against me, whose only goal is to tear me down. I am not going to kill you, Thomas Shelby. But if I spare you, it’s only because, first I don’t want to murder you in front of John, and then, because Arthur loves you. I don’t fucking know how he still does after every mean thing you’ve said and done to him, but the facts remain that he does.” You paused, finally reopening your hand, and lowering your arm. It didn’t take more for Tommy’s lungs to finally be able to stock air again and for his heart to return to a normal pace. The gangster immediately inhaled, still under the shock of what had just happened. Hands on the cold tiled floor, eyes wide open, he was shaking like a leaf in a raging storm, “So for Arthur’s sake and John’s memory, I want you to wear your most beautiful smile next time you’ll see me. Just like you told me the first time we met ey?”

By the time you’ve stopped stabbing him with your murderous and poisoned words, Tommy had managed to stand up on his quivering legs. Yet, he was still catching his breath and pressing one hand on his chest to alleviate the soreness of his lungs. He licked his lips to clean the blood off them, the taste of his own crimson essence reminding him of what he was: not a God. Much less the Devil. Just one simple mortal man. At this very moment, Tommy Shelby had lost his splendor. Still shaken and utterly terrified by your wicked abilities, little King Shelby looked at you, his face contorted in pure horror and disgust. “You…” His enchanting turquoise eyes, whose color made women’s head spin, were now glazed with an almost primal fear, “You’re a fucking monster.”

“At least we have something in common.” You retorted, before turning your heels and leaving the morgue. John’s spirit wasn’t there anyway.

Following your quarrel with your brother-in-law, all you wanted was to go back home and hide from this cruel world in Arthur’s arms; the only place in which you could find a bit of inner peace. Moreover, you knew he would certainly need you after his visit at the morgue. Your holy tears had flown from your eyes all the way home, only chased away by your delicate hands. The only thing that kept you from collapsing in the midst of the streets, weeping on the ground like a fallen angel, was the thought of finding your husband. It has always been you against the rest of the world anyway. So, what was your disappointment when hours flew and Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

A little sigh escaped from your lips as you poured the rest of the red wine bottle you had opened earlier in your glass. Once your glass was refilled with alcohol, you simply dragged your exhausted body to the living room and collapsed on the sofa, looking blankly at the dancing flames in the hearth. Before panic settled in, you thought that Arthur needed time for himself after being informed of his little brother’s death — which was perfectly fine and understandable. He had every right to stay with his family, grieving the loss of his own blood. But the more time passed, the more his absence was weighing on you. Feeling your sorrow, Kaiser woke up from his nap, stretched his muscular body, and came closer to rest his large head on your thighs. The dog’s cropped ears were flattened, and his large hazel eyes were looking at you with sincere worry.

“That’s okay big boy, that’s okay.” You gently stroke his head, but despite loving your caresses the Cane Corso let out a sad whining sound, “I know…” You simply replied, knowing that Kaiser missed Arthur too, on top of hating the sight of you being that mournful. Suddenly, the mutt’s ears raised again, and he turned his head towards the door, sensing someone was coming. Trusting his shape senses, your eyes looked up at the entrance too. When your instincts weren’t working, you knew you could always count on Kaiser and tonight was no exception: only seconds later the door opened, revealing Arthur’s lanky silhouette. You got up from the sofa, putting your glass of red wine on the coffee table, and watched him carefully.

“Cheri?”

“Hm.” The only reply you got was a grunt, followed by his staggering frame walking past you without stopping for a hug nor a kiss. In fact, you wondered if he even saw you. The strong scents of alcohol and tobacco floated in the air at his passage, leaving no doubt on his intoxicated state. You sighed, watching him walking towards the furniture and pouring himself another whiskey. Not the first of the evening for sure.

“Arthur, maybe you shouldn’t do that.” You said quietly, with care and sincere worry. Losing John had broken him, obviously, so you knew you had to be delicate with him. A lecture was definitely not what he needed at this aching moment, which was why you used suggestions rather than orders. Nevertheless, your husband remained deaf to your gentle advice and gulped down the alcohol in one mouthful, right before pouring himself another glass. You shook your head and walked to him, for you could not let Arthur drink his pain until he passed out – because that was what he was trying to do. Somehow, he only acknowledged your existence when he felt your hand gently touching his arm, right above the thin texture of his shirt, “I’m going to run you a bath and we’ll go to bed, alright?” You finally said, knowing that no words would ease the tormenting grief he was experiencing. Why? Because you did too. John Shelby was your best friend. No. He was more than that, he was like another part of you. But as you weren’t blood-related, you’d rather leave your own pain on the back burner and take care of your husband, who hadn’t lost a friend but a baby brother. A loss whose ache you knew far too well. Taking this into account, you didn’t want to ask him if he was okay nor if he wanted to talk because you knew that no he wasn’t and no he didn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Arthur drank the second glass of whiskey and put it on the furniture a bit bluntly, his reflexes numbed by alcohol, “Yeah…” He sniffed, tears flooding his vision for the umpteenth time today – he had lost count. He didn’t think he had some left but here he was, crying again, unlike Tommy who could hold it well. “Heaven…” He moaned in pain, his suffering coming from the deepest part of his soul. You opened your lips to reassure him but you stopped: there was something unusual in his voice, “I need ye to save me …” He begged, turning around to face you even if his gaze remained fixed on the floor.

“I’m here.” One of your hands reached his waist with an indescribable tenderness, “Look at me Arthur.” The other slipped under his chin and gently forced him to look at you — which he ultimately did. Yet, the moment your eyes dived into his iris your heart stopped beating for a micro-while. His pupils were so dilated that the blue of his eyes was barely visible, reduced to small rings around two soul-sucking black holes. From then, you were quick to react: you slipped your hand in the pocket of his trouser and, when you did, your fingertips were met with the cold surface of a little vial. “No…” You whispered, pulling the object from his pocket and observing it with genuine disgust and disappointment. In truth, you could recognize it from miles away for those blue and small vials usually contained cocaine, “What the fuck, Arthur!” you exclaimed, stepping back from him and showing him the small bottle you were holding between your index finger and your thumb.

“What?” He straight off hissed, eyes half closed and his body slightly reeling left to right due to his state of inebriation.

“Did you take it?!” The answer was obvious, but you still wanted to hear it from him. You wanted him to admit it and assume the consequences of his relapse.

“Yes I did eh!” He finally exclaimed after one long second of staring at your eyes, searching for any kind of excuses he could find. But the disappointment in your frozen iris kept him from lying – He definitely could not do this to you, even drunk and high. You closed your eyelids a brief moment, for his words felt like a stab in the chest despite you already knew the undeniable truth.

“No Arthur that’s not going to be possible. You made a promise,” You tried to remain calm but red wine, your fight with Tommy, and the mess in your emotions had destroyed your diplomacy, “You’ve promised me! That’s… Thats not going to help you cope with John’s death!” One of your bare feet was nervously tapping the wooden floor.

“AND HOW AM I GOING TO COPE WITH IT EH? FOOKIN’ HOW?” He burst in anger, your words fueling the raging fire that was burning inside of him. Carried away by his emotional turmoil and the drug, Arthur swept the furniture with one violent movement of his arms, knocking the bottle and the glass over. The cacophony of broken glass made you jump a little as they crashed on the floor, exploding in dozens of shards.

You looked at him, shocked to the core, for he had never really yelled at you before. Each time his voice would rise in your presence it was always because of external factors, never because of you. In truth, Arthur had never got mad at you. The more he could do in your presence was being grumpy. However, tonight you were the source of his sudden anger, and such a revelation hurt like hell. For a fraction of a second, your angry expression flickered into an aching one. Still, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and answered him with a cool, almost placid tone.

“Don’t yell at me. Understand?” You warned him, jaw clenched and every muscle of your tiny body tense, “I don’t want you to take drug except on very, very rare occasions and I must be here– It was part of the deal.” You punctuated you sentence by throwing the vial into the fire, which burnt brighter for a short while. Arthur scoffed, his lips stretching in a sarcastic and irked grin.

“Isn’t it a fookin’ rare occasion? My brother’s dead. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime event that needs to be celebrated properly eh.” His bitter smirk disappeared as he winced with pain, bringing his trembling hands in his hair to pull it. “I need to numb the pain. To numb everything. Oh God, John is dead. Dead. He’s fookin’ dead!” Each time he repeated the last word, Arthur hit his head with his fists. The dancing flames reflected in his teary eyes, and lit his face with an orange hue. It was getting hard to tell if such an effect came from the fire in the hearth, or if he was burning from inside.

“Stop it Arthur!” You grabbed his wrists with your little hands, trying your best to keep him from hurting himself, “I know alright? I know you’re suffering and I’m deeply sorry for it. I swear I’d love to take your pain away, but I can’t. I can’t,” You forced him to look at you by squeezing his wrists, “Thing is, I don’t want to watch you destroying yourself with cocaine or God knows what other kind of drugs! That’s out of fucking question!” Despite your attempt to remain calm, your emotions got the best of you. The betrayal of him breaking his promise was more painful than a bullet shot through your chest. Maybe more painful than losing John itself. Tears began to stream down your face as you let go of Arthur and observed his enraged and dilated pupils.

“What the hell do ye know, eh.” Arthur stumbled, closing the distance between you a second time and leaning over until his face and yours were only a few inches away. His whiskey breath fanned over your skin. “What the hell do ye knew about pain, little angel? You have no idea what I’m going through. If ye did you’d be the first to snort snow ey.”

“Listen,” You sniffed, swallowing back a sob. Okay, maybe yelling at him wasn’t the best way to react so, in a desperate attempt of not aggravating the situation, you forced yourself to regain your calm “I’ve lost my family, I know what it—”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT YOUR FAMILY!” He cut you, yelling so loud your ears buzzed, “THEY’VE BEEN SIX FEET UNDER FOR A FOOKIN’ WHILE! WE’RE TALKING ABOUT JOHN! MY LITTLE BROTHER!” Arthur’s eyes darkened and then, he hated his teeth like a wounded wolf trying his best to scare someone away, “They’ve riddled him with bullets, those mops. Those bastards! We’re in a fookin’ war and here you are scolding me like a kid because I took drugs! That’s fookin’ ridicu—”

The sound of flesh snapping echoed in the living room when your hand slapped him, followed by a heavy silence only the fire’s cracks broke. Arthur backed up at the blow, eyes wide open. Slowly, his shaking fingers brushed his reddened cheek, right where his skin was tingling. At this well-deserved reality check, the tall gangster blinked several times and finally noticed the heart-wrenching pain in your glistening eyes. You, who had tried to hold back your tears and be strong for Arthur, could not keep your sadness for yourself anymore. They flowed from your holy eyes, salty waterfall of sorrows. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Not a single sound. It was not really the fact you had hit him that petrified his whole soul, but rather the realization that he had hurt you, his beloved angel. The woman of his life.

Your face contorted with a caustic combination of pain, sorrow and anger. In truth, you didn’t want to hit him. You really didn’t. But he had been barking at you like a rabid dog, almost spitting at your face as he screamed. And then, he had the stupid idea of talking about your family while knowing what had happened to them. All brutally murdered in a matter of hours. Guided with rage, your blood had boiled, and your hand slapped him even before you truly realized it. “Don’t talk about my family like this anymore.” You hissed through gritted teeth, your cold voice seeping through him and turning his blood into liquid nitrogen.

“Heaven…” Arthur said, feeling himself breaking down at your hateful gaze. He quickly moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, thinking carefully about the next words that were about to come from his mouth but you didn’t let him the time to speak. You had heard enough.

“Shut up. Seriously Arthur, just… Shut up.” Your eyes, who always looked at him with indescribable love and tenderness, were now filled with Hell’s fury and it tore his soul. All of sudden, he felt very small despite towering you with his height.

“You think I’m not suffering from John’s death? You have no idea how much he meant to me. Of course, he wasn’t my brother! Of course, his blood doesn’t run through my veins. But still, he mattered like no one else did, except you.” Each sentence had a bitter taste. Then, you turned away from him and walked to the smashed bottle to take one huge shard between your fragile fingers, “You wanna know how it makes me feel when you’re high? We’ll that’s easy.” Now you were determined to make him understand, no matter what it took. First thing, you showed him the pale flesh of your forearm, “I’m not Linda, right? I didn’t put a leash around your neck because I trusted you. Now, I want you to look at me carefully. When you take drug, it’s as if I was doing this to myself.” Turning your words into deeds, you suddenly slashed your skin with the glass fragment in one quick motion. The sharp surface cut your skin just like butter, and crimson blood quickly filled the gash, overflowing from it and dripping down your arm to your elbow under Arthur’s astounded eyes.

“No, angel!” Suddenly sobering up at the sight of blood on your porcelain skin, he almost pounced on you and took the shard from your hand to threw it away, “The fook ye did eh?! Bloody hell…” Arthur tried to take your arm to examine the depth of your wound but you pushed him away with a stern “Don’t touch me”.

Don’t touch me. Surely, you didn’t mean it right?

You didn’t – Arthur’s heart ached.

“Now just imagine that all you can do is watch me cutting myself until, one day, I bleed to death. How fucking bad it would make you feel? How powerless?!”

“Gosh Heaven, you’re hurt. Oh God!” Arthur started to panic, tears filling his eyes and shoulder jolting with dawning sobs. His whole being ached at the sight of you wounded. It was stronger than him: he couldn’t bear the idea of your being hurt, even less when it was because of him — whether he was the direct cause or not. “I’m sorry love. Fuck, I’m so sorry…” He begged, trying to approach you again but each step he made caused you to step back. Arthur’s hand slowly squeezed his own arm, for he could almost feel the pain of your cut on his own unwounded flesh. Everything began to spin around him as he realized how stupid he had been, “Please, love…”

“Keep your apologies for yourself, Arthur. Let’s make things clear: I’d rather burn at the stake than watch you slowly killing yourself with this shit.” You retorted, turning your heels and heading to the door not minding the fact you were not wearing shoes and that your arm was abundantly bleeding. It didn’t matter, you needed so fresh air and, more than anything, you needed to be away from Arthur for a little while. Meeting his eyes had become far too painful for you to bear anymore. You had almost reached the door when the gangster’s long and calloused fingers grabbed your hands to hold you back.

“No! Don’t leave me! Please, please I fookin’ beg ye but don’t… Just don’t leave me, Heaven.” He kept repeating over and over again, the gravel in his voice rising from one octave under the weight of despair and utter fear. The way his menacing traits had turned into the facial expression of a panicking child was truly heart wrenching – Arthur could not live without you, and it wasn’t a euphemism. Yet, you snatched your hand from his and, as you did, his very soul crumbled. As painful as it was to see him like this, you just couldn’t let this pass – he had to understand how serious you were about the whole drug issue, and how deep he had maimed your heart. You took one last look at him, shaking your head in disapproval, and stormed out of the house, letting the darkness of Watery Lane swallowing you whole.

At first, he had wanted to pin you against the wall and force you to stay. His desperate mind, seeking for any way to keep you by his side, had even thought about threatening to kill himself with his gun right in front of you if you left, but he had been frozen by the disappointed look on your face. Petrified by your gaze, as a poor unfortunate traveler meeting Medusa’s deadly eyes. Following your departure, Arthur had screamed until his throat hurt and his voice broke. The drowning misery he was experiencing, far worst than suffocating in French tunnels, had led him to destroy everything he could in the living room. Maddened by the thought of losing you, the flip in his brain switched and nothing made sense anymore. You had left him alone here, and he felt his mental health getting worse and worse as minutes passed, until he was completely out of his mind. He had done all he could to alleviate his guilt and sadness: from throwing in the fire all the cocaine he kept to hiting a furniture until his knuckles’ skin cracked open. God, he even threw his lanky frame at the wall several times in a frenzied attempt to knock himself up and get a break from the pain of your absence, but nothing worked. He was now sitting on the rug, rocking himself back and forth in front of the dying fire. If you didn’t want him anymore, all was left for him was to blow his damn brains out with his gun for if you’d rather burn than witness his fall, he'd rather die than existing one sole second without your heavenly presence by his side. He could afford to lose Linda, John, hell even Tommy, but he couldn’t do it without you.

Arthur looked at his wedding ring, jaw clenched and heart in bits.

He had fucked up. And he had fucked up really bad.

As he always did.

✞ Readers are left to interpret/choose what the characters feel for the reader. By no means it wants to make Reader/Heaven a Mary Sue everyone loves. Nevertheless, fanfiction should remain fun for readers so that's why I leave most of the things open to interpretation.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @brummiereader @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @shelbydelrey @peakyswritings @helen06dreamer

#comment rb #Reb babe #HYE Squad

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umiwomitai · 5 years ago

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I know I’m extra annoying about Jaewon on here but. I’ve been supporting and following him for so. long. He’s been through a lot, and as a fan it was always super hard to find content and keep in touch with him and now. Now tomorrow he’s gonna release his first full album, with 16 full songs by him, after more than 2 years spent not releasing anything despite saying multiples times that he was working on his music and like. It’s finally here. It’s here and I’m so so proud of him and so happy and overwhelmed and just. It was worth it. It’s been worth it.

#none of the things i say make sense alright?? i just need it out #bc i don't have many people to annoy about it so #idk it's just been so long i can remember the days spent during high school looking at fanaccounts #looking for info about him and all that #annoying my high school friend about him bc there was NOTHING #and here we are. here he is.#i am. SO. PROUD.#he made it #and it's not even out yet!!!#aaaah ;;#jaewon #one #text #léo's useless posts

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voltronseatbelts · 5 years ago

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just wanted to drop by and tell you guys to listen to ain’t together by king princess and think about love song in c minor.... because i am.... i am....

#do you think labels make it taste much better? AAAAH #love song in c minor #don't mind this very useless text post

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you-are-a-star · 6 years ago

Conversation

me: im hungry, time to eat

me @ me: no

#aaaaaaaah #im hungry and my head is foggy and useless #but i don't know what to eat #aaaah #aaa #this post would make more sense i have had energy from food #gahhhh #:((((#i've literally been sitting in my pajamas for 3 hours now wondering what to cook #but i cba to cook #so #whats a bitch to do ?#suffer clearly #star.exe

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tizzymcwizzy · 4 years ago

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BRUH I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT TO POST THIS AAAAH for context i drew these right after optigami came out

recently i've been thinking a lot about the kind of character chat noir presents himself as throughout the show,, been thinking a lot about it now in season 4 (in respect to the role, or should I say, lack of a role, he has in all of season 4 so far)

i rewatched some season one episodes and i was honestly taken aback by how many puns and snarky lines he says in a matter of minutes, and by how blatantly cockey he comes across as fhfjfjgjgg *in evillistrator he says 6 puns in like less than a minute and it gives me psychic damage*

then i was thinking about how much the way we view him,,, the audience as well as ladybug,, changes after his confession and the reality of his genuine love for ladybug (revealed in the origins episodes and glaciator)

i find it absolutely bonkers how much the fanon changed after season 2 was released, as well as watching the origins episodes cause like *BRO IS ACTUALLY GENUINELY IN FUCKING LOVE WITH HER, HES NOT A PLAYER DJFNGNFN*

and then lastly, thinking about him in season 4 (even though we have yet to see him obviously express it) and how abandoned or useless he might feel,, since he hasn't really been blatantly necessary to defeat the akumas and amoks (EVEN THOUGH HE HAS BEEN NECESSARY IN THESE EPISODES ITS JUST NOT OBVIOUS TO THE AUDIENCE AND, BY EXTENSION, HIM)

also i couldn't decide which expression to give chat in this last image so when i asked the syrva discord they suggested i do both. so i made an animation. hdhfhfjjfjffjfjg

#I REALLY LIKE HIS FACE IN THE FIRST DRAWING I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I DID THAT #anyway #mlb #miraculous #ml #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #my art #analysis #ALSO #I DONT RHINK HIS PERSONALITY ACTUALLY CHANGED THAT DRASTICALLY FROM SEASON TO SEASON #this is more of an analysis on how he presents himself and how the audience percieves him #i just find it hilarious how he was really insufferable in season 1 ndndnfnfnf drives me crazy #BUT I LOVE HIM #THIS AINT SALT ALRIGHT #okay I'm done

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evelynhug0 · 7 years ago

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boobs are love

#i love mine aaaah #so soft #lmao #what am i even posting #tmi #useless information

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ressyfaerie · 4 years ago

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Dark Tyson fic; during G-Rev, Tyson snaps from stress and feelings of abandonment and joins Team BEGA. (Bonus points for Brooklyn getting close to Tyson to make Kai jealous. Black Dragoon optional, or maybe Boris gives him Black Dranzer...?!)

I saved the best for last.

I am a big fan of dark Tyson- love it. I’ve been thinking of this prompt for DAYS. I’m very excited to write this- as you know I am the angst queen. For the sake of this fic, g-rev timelines are going to be confusingly switched around, just because it makes more sense for the fic, and also- I’ve forgotten some important plot points and dont have the time to rewatch g-rev LMAO. Anything in * can be Tyson’s or Kai’s private thoughts!

So I finished writing this, and it's LONG. so I’ve actually uploaded it to archive first, because reading it on tumblr seems like a chore and a half, so here’s the archive link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30739397/chapters/75866906

It came out to 50 pages, and it’s 5 chapters on archive.

And here’s the first ‘chapter’ of the fic:

So here we go:

It was odd to see Kenny angry.

He tossed his laptop to the side, picking up spare bey parts in his hand.

“Kenny! I’m just saying- What are our chances? Without everyone else, we’re useless as a team-”

“I’ve been working so hard Tyson…” Kenny shook in anger, beside him. Hilary tried to place her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he shook her off.

“How could you say we’re useless?! When we’ve been trying so hard!?”

“It’s not enough! You know me and Diachi can’t work together-”

From the corner of the room, Diachi screeched, “Hey loser! I’m right here!”

“I know, you shitty little cherry tomato!”

Hilary tried to be the mediator, “Tyson, are you sure that’s how you really feel?”

Tyson nodded, “Our team has no hope. Now with BEGA taking over everything we can’t even get any parts, it’s useless-”

“How could you say that Tyson!” Kenny yelled louder than he ever had in his life, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be uplifting us! You’re the leader-”

“I don’t want to be a leader! We had a leader remember? And a coach?”

“You can’t give up!” Kenny begged and shook with anger, Tyson felt horrible, he knew Kenny had been working so hard, but they had lost too much, he felt there was no hope of recovery.

“Throw out your research Kenny, we’re done.” Tyson stared at the wooden floorboards of the dojo, completely defeated.

“AaaaH!” Kenny had launched himself forward- landing a strong right hook on Tyson’s cheek.

Tyson fell backwards, landing on his side and quickly sitting up to rub his cheek, “What the hell Kenny!?”

Kenny was furious, “you can throw away everything we’ve worked for if you want! Telling me to throw away *my* research?! You need to get yourself together Tyson!”

Tyson was left speechless, Hilary nodded, agreeing with Kenny, “if we’re going to defeat BEGA we need a Tyson who can hold himself together.”

“You’re heads messed up dude,” Diachi remarked, “We can’t work with you until you fix yourself.”

Tyson could feel the anger radiate through his body, “if you guys think I’m so messed up then maybe I should just leave!?”

“Then go.” Kenny hissed through clenched teeth.

“Fine! Good luck with hopper-” Tyson slammed his hands on the floor throwing himself to his feet, “Your beyblade that fucking hops- Beyblades aren’t supposed to hop Kenny!”

He slid open the shoji doors fast, and threw them closed, rattling the old dojo like an earthquake. Outside in the gardens, he cursed.

“Tyson?”

Hearing his grandpa’s voice behind him, he aggressively swung his body in his direction, “What is it Gramps? I’m not in the mood-”

“What’s going on with you and your friends?”

“Friends!?” Tyson spat.

“Oh no... Tyson-” Ryu shook his head.

“What? What is it? Is it something wrong with me?” Tyson’s whole body was stationary, emanating white anger.

“Your friends didn’t leave you to hurt you.”

“Not my friends- Friends don’t betray each other to go to different teams.”

“You *know* they didn’t betray you.”

“Then tell me why Kai went to BEGA.”

Grandpa stayed silent, he didn’t have a good reason why Kai went to BEGA, and no one knew why.

“I’m sure like Max and Ray, he just wanted to fight you again.”

“And Hiro?”

“He wanted to train stronger opponents for you-”

Tyson suddenly laughed, “he could have trained *me*.”

Ryu placed his hands in front of him, trying to calm his grandson down from a distance.

His Grandpa was more serious than he had been in years.

“He could have- I know it wasn’t the best thing for Hiro to do, but- he did it because he loves you.”

“Okay Grandpa, you have an answer for everything huh? Then answer me this- where’s my dad?”

The garden turned ice cold.

“I’m sure he’s around Tyson-”

“Does he not have a TV? Or a post office? How can he sit in some country, and not see what is happening to his own son!?” Tyson’s voice bellowed through the courtyard.

“I don’t know Tyson- he loves you.”

“No he doesn’t- It seems no one does-” Tyson was holding back angry sobs.

Ryu took a step forward, “Tyson I-”

“No!” Tyson screamed and threw his hand in front of him to keep him back, “stay away from me!”

The doors to the dojo opened, no doubt his make-shift team coming to see the commotion.

“You guys stay away from me too!” Tyson grasped his head and scratched his nails into his scalp, “Everyone just- stay away from me.”

No one could say anything, Tyson glanced around at the quiet group, “what? Are you guys afraid of me now or something?”

“Tyson, you need to calm down-” Ryu tried.

“No? Don’t tell me to calm down!-” Tyson took a step backwards, trying desperately to flee the situation, then it occurred to him- he could.

Tyson stared down the gravel beneath his feet, the world felt blurry, and in that moment his vision flashed red, he turned away running at full pace through the yard, and out the gates, flying down the street as he heard his only paternal figure and teammates calling for him.

Down the road, over a bridge, along the ocean, towards the river.

The sun was setting now, twilight was blanketing the world.

At the top of the riverbank he began to head towards the river, not knowing why. He slipped on the smooth grass landing on his back and groaning in pain.

He placed his hands over his face and cried.

He sobbed for everything- everything he lost, his friend’s, his reputation, his spirit.

He pulled himself off the grass and shoved his head in between his knees, still crying. Anger, sadness, regret, he felt it all at once. It was eating him from the inside out.

He let out a frustrated scream while jabbing his fingertips into his biceps, trying desperately to turn to dust, to become one with the earth.

He didn’t hear the footsteps approach him.

“I would ask if you’re okay- but I know the answer.”

“Whoever you are- Just leave me alone- please.” Tyson buried his head further into his knees.

He felt someone sit beside him, the grass crunched under their weight.

“Everyone’s left you.”

“I know that-” Tyson could barely make out the words.

“They left you for better teams, brighter pastures… You must think you’re not good enough for them.”

Tyson shook his head.

“You are. You��re better than all of them, probably better than all of them combined.”

Those words made Tyson perk his head up, wondering who his savior tonight could possibly be.

The purple hair stood out first, he wore a compassionate smile.

Tyson locked eyes with his arch-enemy but made no effort to change his expression.

“You’re allowed to be sad- and angry.”

Tyson became more frustrated, *why is it out of everyone I know, the evilest person tells me what I need to hear?*

Boris had an interesting voice. Tyson tried to dissect the tone, but he could only detect… Affection.

“What are you going to do now… World champion?”

Tyson felt his body go numb at the comment, so much was expected of him, but he had no way of accomplishing any of it.

Tyson tried to inhale before answering, a cough got stuck in his throat, and he answered in a hoarse voice, “I’m not sure.”

Boris continued smiling, he stared at the orange sun, just about to disappear under the horizon, “Do you want to show your friends how capable you are?”

Tyon managed to hold his head up for a moment, he slowly nodded.

“Good for you.”

His words seemed to calm him down against his will.

Tyson mumbled, “I won’t join BEGA.”

“I’m not asking you to. But I do have everything you need to arm yourself. Parts, training rooms, places to sleep, all the food you could ask for”

Tyson shook his head.

“No strings attached. Come see my training facilities tonight, if you don’t want to be there, you can leave.”

Tyson felt cold, the shadow of the setting sun crept over them, an ominous darkness crawled over his face, then Boris’.

“Or would you rather go back to your home tonight?”

Boris made a point. Tyson had no intention of going home tonight, but he had nowhere to stay.

His eyes darted back and forth, deep in thought.

Boris pushed himself off the ground and stepped to the top of the hill.

On the road next to them, a fancy car.

The purple-haired man opened the passenger door and gestured with his hand. Tyson gave him a blank stare.

“Come on, world champ.” He emphasized the last words just right- reminding Tyson how much was on his back, “what’ll it be?”

Tyson’s brain wasn’t working, logical thought was too much to process. What he did know was- he didn’t want to sit on this riverbank crying the rest of the night.

Boris waited, for minutes, holding the door open.

Tyson sniffed, he rubbed his nose with his forearm, crawled to his knees, and pushed himself off the ground.

“Good job, champion.” Boris grinned, giving him the unnecessary compliment.

Tyon was beside him now, he rested his fingertips on the top of the car door, feeling the cold black metal under his nails.

“It’ll be warmer inside when I turn on the heat,” Boris reassured Tyson, inspecting his skin, covered in goosebumps from the cold.

“O...kay…”

Tyson crawled into the passenger seat weakly.

He did turn on the heat. The heated seats warmed Tyson’s whole body. He watched the street lamps roll past as he hunched into the leather.

Boris drove like an old man- but also a maniac. Driving the speed limit, but taking turns at the same speed.

The BEGA building towered over the whole city. They pulled into a parking garage, the gates rose with Boris’ presence.

After parking in a special stall, Boris turned off the car and climbed out, he walked to Tyson’s side opening the door for him. Tyson didn’t have the energy to complain that he could have done it himself, and instead, followed the older man to a specific elevator.

They rode the elevator in silence.

When the door opened, Boris walked ahead, Tyson followed cautiously.

Inside another heavy metal door was darkness, Boris flicked a switch and the lights invaded the room.

The room was filled with dirt and boulders, in the center, a beydish carved into the earth.

“This room was made to be destroyed,” Boris explained.

Tyson pushed his hands into his pocket, caressing Dragoon with his hand.

“You’re welcome to destroy it- if you’d like.”

Tyson still felt emotion linger in his chest, the frustration was killing him, it was a tempting offer, but he knew if he wrecked his blade in the process, he had no way of fixing it.

“I’m not recording, I’m not analyzing you, I’ll just step back. You do what you need to do.”

Tyson pulled out his launcher and loaded Dragoon, he directed his launch to a rock.

“AAAUUGH!” Tyson roared as he put all his anger into letting go.

Dragoon split the rock clean through with ease, the two halves crashing to the ground.

Tyson continued to scream and throw his hands giving Dragoons orders at a lighting pace. The room was soon covered in dust from the obliterated rocks, while sand rolled over the floor.

Tyson was holding his chest, trying to get air into his lungs with fast painful breaths, he realized the amount of air he needed wasn’t arriving, so he continued to destroy the room.

After all the rocks were annihilated, he fell to his knees. He was out of tears, his eyes were wide open. As he witnessed the destroyed room under his body, Boris began to clap.

“Bravo! Amazing, spectacular! A performance only one person in the whole world could accomplish!”

Dragoon obediently arrived at Tyson’s knees, he picked him up and inspected him.

*Trashed. I’m sorry Dragoon.*

He shoved him safely back into his pocket.

“Fantastic job, Tyson.” Boris was in front of him now, holding out his hand to help him up.

Tyson wanted to refuse, but his legs were like jelly, he grasped his hand using it as his crutch.

“You must be thirsty after a performance like that! Come- I have a room prepared.”

Tyson found himself in an extremely fancy penthouse. Extravagant food was laid out on a table with every kind of drink next to it.

Boris had gestured to a couch telling him to sit down, when he did, the soft plush absorbed him. The comfort felt amazing on his aching muscles.

“What do you want to drink, champion?” Boris popped open a wine bottle and poured himself a glass.

Tyson watched him cautiously, he had never seen an adult drink alcohol so casually in front of him- he was underage after all.

“Do you want some of this?” Boris gestured to his crystal glass and grinned.

“No- Just water, thanks.”

“Any food?” Boris asked as he handed him a glass of cold water from the table.

Tyson accepted it and began to drink, he stopped for a moment, “not hungry.”

“You’ve been through a lot tonight, that’s understandable.”

Tyson took another worried sip, “Yeah.” Tyson’s eyes darted side to side.

“You must be wondering about the room?”

“Is this your place?” Tyson took a good look at the penthouse this time.

“Actually, it was supposed to be yours, when I finally convinced you to join BEGA, but-” Boris took a sip of his wine, “it seems like that just isn’t going to happen.”

Tyson felt a wave of exhaustion fall over him. He felt like he had been hit by a truck.

“Let me show you around,” Boris suggested.

Tyson decided to follow, he needed to get off the couch before he fell asleep.

He showed him the kitchen, balcony, hot tub, fireplace, and finally the bedroom.

“King Size bed, very comfortable, you can lay down if you want.”

Tyson could sense his eyes closing, it had been a long day, he had never felt this tired, even after training all night.

Boris sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. Without questioning, Tyson was sitting beside him too.

“It’s okay to rest sometimes. Have you ever seen a champion win on fumes?”

“I have.” Tyson tried to grin, but failed.

“Go to sleep Tyson.”

“No- not here.”

Boris took his empty water glass out of his hand- he gently pushed his shoulder, Tyson collapsed backwards into the bed.

“Sleep.”

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beauty-and-passion · 4 years ago

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Heya!

So I remember reading your post about Eurovision a while ago, and since I'm now hooked on a certain collection of songs, I was thinking...

Would you think 'Zitti E Buoni' by Måneskin could be a Remus song, and 'Voilà' by Barbara Pravi a Roman song? Or do you have some ideas on any other Eurovision songs that would fit the Sides?

Just wondering whether you'd like to share some thoughts on this, but no pressure of course! As always, I absolutely love your theories and posts, it always brightens up my day to read :D

This will be a very self indulgent post.

First of all: “no pressure”?! I am HYPED to share my thoughts on this! And this is why it took me so long to reply to this ask: I’ve spent the whole time thinking about which song could fit which Side, going through the last editions, reading the lyrics, searching among my favourites...

So yes, this post will be a bit long. But hey, there is also good music and maybe, by listening to it, you will find something you haven’t heard before! :D

(Of course, in order to make this post understandable, I will translate all lyrics, but the songs aren’t all in English. In any case, every song has a link, so you can hear it on Youtube.)

And yes, I know there are billions of other Eurovision songs, but for the sake of “not making this post endless” (as if it won’t be already), I will stop at Eurovision 2014. If you all have other songs to propose for a Side, please feel free to add them and explain why! :D

And now...

Which Eurovision songs would fit the Sides

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EUROVISION 2021

Måneskin - Zitti e buoni

(Here the Eurovision performance because it’s just this good)

This song is PERFECT for Remus and I was a fool for not realizing it sooner. It's all about showing how different you are, embracing your uniqueness despite what others may think. Everything about this song screams “REMUS” so thank you, my dear, for opening my eyes and making me realize it.

They don't know what I'm talking about You are dirty, bruh, of mud Cig's yellow in between the fingers I'm walking with a cig Pardon me, but I really do believe That I can make this jump And even if the street is uphill I'm training for this now

The first line is already 200% Remus: they (aka the other Sides) don’t know what Remus is talking about. Remus is impossible to understand. Remus is weird, strange, dangerous - according to moral standards.

However, despite the other people’s thoughts, Remus still shows a high self-esteem - just like in his playlist. The others may not have faith in him, there could be obstacles on his way, but he still believes he will achieve his goals.

And good evening, ladies and gentlemen Bring out the actors You better hold on to your balls You better keep quiet and be good Here people are weird, like drug dealers Too many nights I've spent locked outside Now I'm kicking these doorways Staring up like climbers So sorry mum if I'm always out, but

“You better hold on to your balls” is a translation of the original italian line “Vi conviene toccarvi i coglioni”. This sentence is a more vulgar form of the English expression “knocking on wood”, something you preventively do to un-jinx stuff.

However, “knocking on wood” isn’t as strong as the italian expression, so I chose this translation that is more literal, but also more vulgar. It kept the original vibe more, it fits Remus more and it gives a stronger meaning to the whole thing. The singer isn’t just saying “beware of what you’re doing”, but he’s saying “get ready, shit if about to hit the fan”. It’s more powerful - and well, Remus would love this. It’s his time now, so the audience (the other Sides/Thomas) should "keep quiet and be good”.

I also really like the “Here people are weird, like drug dealers”, because it can refer to the dark sides in general. This is Remus’ show, so the Core Sides and Thomas should shut up. They are now in the Dark Sides’ territory, full of weird, sketchy people, morally gray villains. All things he loves, enjoys and that he definitely considers as compliments.

“Too many nights I've spent locked outside / Now I'm kicking these doorways” is another great line, because “being locked outside” is the perfect metaphor for Remus’ situation. He IS locked outside, he has been kept far away from Thomas, stifled by him, unable to fully express himself. And so he releases his frustration by kicking the doors that are shutting him down. That’s just so Remus I. LOVE. IT.

I am out of my mind, but I'm not like the others And you are out of your mind, but you're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others We are out of our minds, but we're not like the others

This chorus is PERFECT! First of all: “I am out of my mind” is basically just like this line from DWIT:

[Patton]: Imaginative sure is a- a kind word for him. [Duke]: I agree! How about... DEMENTED?

But also: Remus doesn’t give a damn. He’s not like the others and he’s SO DAMN PROUD of it. Just like he is in canon and in his playlist.

He goes even further, by saying that “you” are also out of your mind. And who this “you” might be, if not the big man himself?

[Duke]: If I am awful... then so is Thomas.

Just like in DWIT, Remus welcomes Thomas’ weirdness with open arms. If he and Thomas are both insane and different, why hiding it and not embracing this difference? They are unique.

I've written pages and pages I've seen salt, then tears These men in cars Don't climb the rapids I've written on a tombstone "In my house there's no God" But if you find time's meaning You'll climb back up from your oblivion And there's no wind stopping The natural power From the right point of view You feel the intoxication of the wind With wax wings on your back I'll go look for that high If you wanna stop me try again Try cutting my head off Because

Woah, this part has a lot. There is:

Remus' creativity as a flow ("I've written pages and pages")

Remus seeing how different he is compared to others ("These men in cars / Don't climb the rapids" while he was ready to “make this jump” despite the obstacles on his way)

Religion because of course - and especially Remus rejecting it ("I've written on a tombstone / "In my house there's no God".")

And, most importantly, there is a nice reference to Icarus' myth. According to myth, Icarus escaped from the Labyrinth of the Minotaur, by flying on wax wings. But he flew too close to the sun, his wings melted and he fell to his death.

This has multiple meanings. First of all, it shows how stubborn Remus is: he could use simpler, more stable ways to reach his goals. But he's Remus, he's creative and he's different, he would rather use wax wings (aka more complex, unordinary means) to reach his goal. Also, it's a proof of his resolution: just like Icarus, his wax wings could melt and he could fail. And yet, he's so set in his decision, he's ready to do anything to succeed.

This last point is particularly evident in the following lines: "If you wanna stop me try again / Try cutting my head off". It's impossible to stop him, just like it was impossible to send him away or stop him from talking in canon.

Everything in this song is just HIM.

Unfortunately people talk They talk, they don't know what they talk about Bring me where I float Cause I lack air here

Once again, the people are the Core Sides: they talk about how he's evil and dangerous and useless. But they don't know what they're talking about. They're (metaphorically) suffocating him with their prejudices, that's why he asks "bring me where I float": he wants to express himself freely, to escape these biases.

Also: water. And with the whole octopus as his animal, it’s just even more fitting.

Moral of the story: this song is perfect for him, Remus should know Italian just to sing it - and he would love the glam rock style of Maneskin as well.

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Barbara Pravi - Voilà

I don’t know how you did it, dear, but these two songs are PERFECT. Zitti e buoni is perfectly Remus, Voilà is perfectly Roman. I feel blessed.

Listen to me, me, the half singer Talk about me, to your loved ones, to your friends Tell them about this little girl with black eyes and crazy dreams What I want is to write stories that you will hear about That's all

Roman, is that you? Because this is you. This is ALL you.

Roman is a "half singer": he cannot sing like he want, he cannot express himself in full. He has rules, laws, morals that forces him to quiet down and bent his creativity.

And, just like a tragic hero, Roman asks that his story will not be forgotten, that others will know about him, his unfortunate life, his "crazy dreams" and especially his passion: writing stories "that you will hear about".

This line in particular reminds me of this part from Recipe for Me:

And still, I continue to write because I have more dreams to fulfill Tales I hoped to tell when I was younger Ideas that I haven't made yet, but I will I'll find my way with my will

The concept is the same in Voilà. Roman is a "controlled" Creativity, surrounded by rules and morals that shut him, but he wants to be heard, he wants to tell stories.

And that’s just it. This is what creativity is all about: talking, puring out its ideas, as loud and freely as possible.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if I'm scared as I'm naked, yes Here I am in the noise and in silence

I love how this song is a way for Roman to express himself, to show himself despite everything. He's like this, he's a "half Creativity", he's scared, he's not perfect. But here he is, "in the noise and in silence". Because your creativity is always here with you, no matter where you are or what you are doing: it will never leave you and it will never stop asking to be heard.

Look at me, or at least what's left of it Look at me, before I hate myself What can I say that another hasn't already said? I don't have much, but I place here what I do have Voilà

Aaaah, yes, I like to wake up with the strong smell of Roman's angst in the morning.

Roman seeing himself as something broken? Perfect. We want more of the angsty boi. Even the fans of King Creativity may read this line as Roman seeing himself as “half of a whole”!

And, again I love how despite feeling broken and hating it, he’s still ready to give everything he has. This is the true essence of the concept of creativity.

Also, why not adding a little more angst?

I want to be loved, because I don't know myself how to like the shape of me

This is perfect, because it reconnects to the first episode, when Roman said his goal would be to love himself first. He never reached this goal after almost 30 episodes - and this line might offer an answer on why: because Roman doesn’t know how. He hates himself so much, he doesn’t know how to love himself.

And that’s probably why he needs another person to love: because it’s easier to love someone else, rather than himself.

Voilà, voilà, voilà, here is who I am Here I am, even if it's the end as I'm naked Here I am in the noise and in rage too Finally, look at me and my eyes and my hands All I have is here, it's my face, it's my scream Here I am, here I am, here I am

This last chorus is awesome: the quintessential of Roman’s desperation, of showing himself, of screaming hoping to be heard by anyone. Unlike Remus who is unstoppable and doesn't care about others, Roman cares. He needs a public, he needs to be heard, otherwise he would lose himself.

And I seriously love how these two songs both have the same idea (embrace yourself and your uniqueness), but talk aboout this theme in such different ways - and yet so fitting for the twins... they are just GREAT.

(On a side note: this song is so dramatically French Roman would love it and sing it with the same passion Barbara used and I would love to see that.)

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EUROVISION 2019

Bilal Hassani - Roi

Come on... Roi. Roi. Considering that "roi" means "king" in French, who could possibly be the Side I would associate this song with? Maybe the Side who already has a King in his playlist?

Nope, this song is for Remus.

Why Remus? The reason is very simple and you can just notice by reading the first verses:

I am me And I know I will always be I am free Sure I am inventing my life Don't ask me who I am

I am The same since I was very little And in spite of looks, opinions I cry, I go out and I laugh

You put me in a box Want me to be like you I don't follow the codes People are disturbed a lot At the end of the day You canno change me, boo! So, let me fly

This song overflows with confidence, the lines talk about someone who is free to be whoever he wants, who has always been the same since he was a child, who is rejected by others and doesn't give a damn, who doesn't "follow the codes" and refuses to be changed by them.

This isn't Roman, but this is the quintessential of Remus. This song is everything about him, from his confidence to his desire to be free.

And the chorus is even clearer:

I'm not rich but i'm shining bright I can't see my kingdom now When I dream, I am a king And I know o-o-ow Even now o-o-ow You try to take me down You cannot break me nah nah

That's him, that's Remus.

On a side note, if Remus also has his "King song", that would strengthen the connection with Roman, since they both would have a song about "being/feeling like a king".

And this song is Roi, king in French. Since I think Remus would definitely know French, this makes Roi an even more fitting choice, doesn’t it?

Who are we ? When we hide, when we fight for free Only god can judge you and me We did not choose what we are

Not only there is a nice religious reference, but these lines are a also a reference to the LGBT community: they hide, they fight, they didn't choose to be like that (no matter what idiots might think) and only God can judge them, not other, very flawled (and, honestly, very pathetic too) humans.

So, if we consider it, there is also a hidden "fuck society" and a "I am gay and proud to be" and those are both very Remus things.

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EUROVISION 2018

Saara Aalto - Monster

I would associate this song with Thomas. And, specifically, to Thomas at the end of the series. Why?

Here's why:

So tonight I'm making friends with all the creatures That are hiding there under my bed

I ain't gonna hold on to these monsters anymore Now I'm gonna let in all the light Tear down the walls At my worst, I found my army strong All the demons are gone You can try and scare me now But I ain't scared no more I ain't scared no more

At the end of the series, Thomas would have befriended all the Sides, especially the "monsters hiding under his bed", the dark bois.

The "final Thomas" will tear down every wall between him and his Sides and will stop hiding/rejecting them. This will make him stronger, because the Sides will be his helpers, parts of him, his friends. He won't be scared anymore by Remus, suspicious towards Janus, afraid of Virgil or terrified by Orange.

"All the demons are gone": the dark sides won't be villains anymore, but friends. And they would help him be stronger.

It's my life I'm ready to lead it I'm gonna roll the dice You better believe it

This part is great as well, because it proves another interesting detail: that Thomas is growing up. He's taking life into his own hands, he's leading it. No more "Oh no, I don't know what to choose between callback and wedding!". He's more confident, he's stronger, he's more mature.

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Hovig - Gravity

Honestly, I think this song can be something all Sides might sing to Thomas. It's basically a testament of how much they care about him:

Let me be your heart and your company I'll let you be the one who can lean on me I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

But the imagery just screams "ROMAN" so much, I can't help but think that yes, this is a great Roman song and it's all from Roman to Thomas.

I mean...

I can be your hero I can be your fantasy Oh, I can be the cure Yeah, let me be Your remedy

He IS Thomas' hero, so how can I ignore this? And he's also the embodiment of Thomas' fantasies, he's the wings that make Thomas fly.

Let me be your wings When you're flying high I'm gonna raise you up 'til you touch the sky I'll catch you when you fall When you're falling free Let me be, be your gravity

It's just pure love for Thomas and it begs me to being a Roman song, so... here it is. A Roman song dedicated to Thomas.

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Eleni Foureira - Fuego

Listen, not only Roman would rock this song, but also dance like a maniac while singing it just like Eleni and no, you can't change my mind.

Just look at how this woman sings and dnaces without never losing a beat until the end. And please consider that on the Eurovision stage there is no autotune: this was her voice and he delivered a great performance without cracks.

So yes, I want Roman singing this.

But the lines are great for him as well! I mean...

Take a dive Into my eyes Yeah the eyes of lioness Feel the power They ain’t lying.

and

Coz I’m way up and I ain’t comin’ down, keep taking me higher Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah Coz I’m burning up and I ain’t coolin’ down, yeah I got the the fire Ah yeah ah yeah ah yeah yeah ah yeah ah yeah

Fuego

Someone fiery and passionate, powerful eyes, pride... yep, this is definitely something Roman would sing. Especially because of the fire. Roman is a fiery guy, so fire is very him.

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Yianna Terzi - Oniro Mou

I actually already talked about this song in an old post and I still haven't changed my mind: this song is all about Janus telling Thomas how much he cares about him.

If you look into the depth of me You revive my dream And if you look into my heart I will take you into my arms How would you like me to say this I would die for you I would give my life for you End and beginning, you are everything

Not only the "take you into my arms" reminds me of Change (" I’ll be able to be honest, capable / Of holding you in my arms without letting you fall"), but the last three lines are so incredibly loving and honest I can't think of anyone else but Janus while reading them. Thomas is his end and beginning, Janus would literally die for Thomas and give his life for him.

So, well, it's just very fitting. And I love how dramatic this song is. It doesn't have the jazzy vibe Janus loves, but the drama is all here.

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Francesco Gabbani - Occidentali’s Karma

Do you remember how hard it was to analyze Algorhythm from Logan's playlist? Every line has a meaning and explaining every single one of them took me an eternity.

Well, this song is basically like Algorhythm, but with more philosophy and billions to references. You see the performance on the stage and ahahah, there's a funny dancing gorilla, what a cute song. Then you read the lyrics and BOOM.

I will not analyze this song here, because every line would require at least two paragraphs to explain it. And this post is already long enough as it is, but please, search the meaning of this song: there are references to Shakespeare, Heraclitus, buddhism, Andy Warhol, Desmond Morris and his book "The Naked Ape", Marx, Nietzsche and so on. Basically every line is a reference, a play on words or both at the same time.

What about the main theme? The main theme is the human and especially the contemporary human. In fact, "Occidentali" (Westerners) does not refer to the geographical place, aka Europeans/Americans, but to the western cultural model.

So the title “Occidentali’s Karma” (Westerners Karma) is an insight on contemporary society, on our values and on how, despite how many things changed, we are not so different from our ancestors after all.

This song might seem a perfect choice for Janus. There's a critique of society, there are philosophers and plays on words.

But I’m not too convinced, because even if Janus likes all those things, the number of references is just SO HUGE only a real nerd can find, recognize and appreciate them all.

So yes, this is a Logan song. A song he would probably listen and analyze, enjoying the whole process of knowing more things, finding out all the hidden meanings, the plays on words (we all know you like puns, ya big nerd) and the critical insight. After all, Algorhythm WAS a critique of society, so Logan should appreciate it.

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EUROVISION 2014

Twin Twin - Moustache

Not only the band is called Twin Twin but, as if this wasn't screaming "Creativitwins" enough, the title of the song is "Moustache".

Come on, you know who is the Side perfect for this song.

Psyche! It's both Roman and Remus.

Something is missing, but what? I want this, I want that When I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming in dollars, every day I'm wearing a different suit.

This is very Roman: Roman wants everything (let's not forget Primadonna from his playlist), Roman’s dreams are big. And Roman is Creativity, so he "wears a different suit" every day - aka he directs his creative flow in different stories/songs.

I want this, I want that there's never enough for me it's like this, it's like that there's always something I don't have

This part strongly reminds me of Primadonna. Roman wants everything, every day. He's never satisfied.

And then, Remus busts in and...

I wanted a moustache, a moustache

So my headcanon is that this starts as a Roman's song, all about wanting everything because "there's always something I don't have", until Remus pops out during the chorus and says all he wants is his gorgeous moustache.

*chef’s kiss* Perfection.

But I know what you want, dear audience. You want some angst, don't you?

Fine, so what if the "I want a moustache" line is Roman's subtle way to say that he wants the same freedom his brother has? After all, Roman has "everything one could ever dream of", "I have friends too / even some who like me". All he needs is more creative freedom and the moustache is a subtle way to say that.

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Aarzemnieki - Cake to Bake

This is the ultimate song for all Patton's fans, because it combines Patton's love for baking to Patton being an absolute disaster at it.

Also, it's an incredibly cute song.

I melted the ice of the polar caps Found the raiders of the lost ark Solved a case for the genius from Baker Street Helped to clean the Central Park I created the plan for the Chinese wall Went to desert, made it rain Swam through a shark tank bloodily Found Atlantis, by the way But today

The first verse is already awesome: Patton did a lot of great stuff, even impossible stuff ("solved a case for the genius from Baker Street" is a very nice reference to the Losing My Motivation episode).

But today, he has to face the most difficult task of them all:

I’ve got a cake to bake, and got no clue at all I’ve got a cake to bake, and haven’t done that before Don’t be proud, mate, please, don’t bother Go, come on and ask your mother How to bake, how to bake, bake that cake

Not only this makes me smile every time, but I can perfectly imagine Patton in a kitchen, with all the ingredients in front of him, everything ready and set... and he’s just absolutely lost. Should he use a spoon to stir the flour? And how can he open the vanilla beans? He doesn’t even know how to turn the stove on.

And so, he decides it’s time to ask someone else to help him. Bonus points if the mother is Janus. Also because he is a mom AND a witch, so

Also, this line:

Mix some dough, add some love, let it bake, wait for it

It's SO Patton, because the main ingredient of his recipes IS love! And cumin. And sometimes spit, depending on what he's making: pasta for Roman or some toasts for his angsty teen son.

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Carl Espen - Silent Storm

At first, I thought this was a Logan song: someone who feels empty and alone, who has a storm inside but it's a silent storm, because Logan would never express his feelings in any way.

But there are these lines:

And there’s a silent storm inside me Looking for a home I hope that someone’s gonna find me And say that I belong I’ll wait forever and a lifetime To find I’m not alone There’s a silent storm inside me And someday I’ll be calm Someday I’ll be calm

And maybe it's just me, but this reminds me so much of Virgil. He has a storm inside, his own symbol is a storm. He's searching for a home, after leaving the dark sides. And he hopes someone will say he belongs - Thomas will say he belongs, that Virgil is part of him and of the famILY.

And he's willing to wait all the time, just to get that tiny bit of recognition and acceptance. And, who knows, maybe when he'll get it, the storm inside him will calm down and he will finally be at peace.

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Tinkara Kovač - Round and Round

I don't know if I'm insane (or just extremely self indulgent), but this song is basically Janus during the wedding/callback saga.

Uncertain between worlds Circle after circle, we're trapped in time When you're already familiar with every storm You're playful, and yet you're alone

The first verse sets the time and situation. Thomas is living an uncertain life (just like every actor), trapped in the same cycle, with nothing new coming: same job, same opportunities, no big chances, nothing stable. He's "familiar with every storm", aka Virgil has been accepted. Thomas is happy, but he's alone. No one is actually on his side, not even the Sides themselves. He's not taking care of himself enough, he's too ready to drop everything for his friends, he's spreading himself too thin.

And now I'm gonna show you how to breathe I'm gonna show you how to live I'm gonna hold your heart in hand I'm gonna make you understand

This can be a declaration from Janus: he's tired of working in the shadows, he wants to step up and help Thomas in person. And these lines make me think of him, because of how "firm" (and kinda villain-y) they sound.

He wants to show Thomas how to live, aka what are the best decisions to make). He's going to "hold your heart in hand", aka to have Thomas wrapped around his fingers, to take control and steer him with a strong, confident grip, away from the decisions he considers bad, into making him a lot stronger than before.

And, finally, he wants to make him understand. So if the lines before sounded more like a villain’s plan, this last line adds something more. Janus wants to explain to Thomas why he's doing this, why his decisions are better, why Thomas should trust him.

If we think about it, this is everything Janus tried to do since CLBG: he wrapped Thomas (and the other Sides) around his fingers and made them play the courtroom scenario he built, he tried to steer Thomas away from the selfless decision of going to the wedding. And he tried to make him understand why, with the pinata metaphor.

You don't know you don't know Is it love is it hate What are we changing (What are we doing) You don't know you don't but Can you feel it inside Feel the roses Feel the pride (Can you believe it)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. Does he really know what love is? Or hate? Or what he's actually doing, by listening to his Morality? What is Janus doing?

[Deceit]: What am I doing here right now, Thomas? Am I the snake come to trick you into sinning, or have you had your mind made up since the moment you received the news about the callback? (SvS)

Thomas doesn't know a lot of things. But deep down, he knows what he wants to do. He should "feel the roses / feel the pride", both things associated with Roman. He is the one Thomas should listen to. And Janus is hinting it.

Is a moment just a circle Just a song you play on repeat? If we can't change how we're living Isn't life just a lie that we feed

Janus is expressing his frustration here: is Thomas' life doomed to always be the same, a cycle, a "song you play on repeat"? Can't he really change his life because of his selflessness? Will he really miss all the opportunities life offers him, in order to always be a good person?

What's the point of living, then? This wouldn't be life, but "a lie that we feed": instead of living his own life, Thomas would submit it to what others want/need, in order to always be present for them.

This is basically a huge warning from Janus: don't fall into this cycle, break free, I can make you free, listen to me and I will make you understand what is wrong about it.

19 notes · View notes

feminaexlux · 4 years ago

Text

All That Matters (Pt 2: They’re Multiplyin’ and I’m Losing Control)

Part 2 of All That Matters. Part 1 here

Find this on AO3 here!

⁂

Ladybug convinced a newly transformed Dragon Noir to use Water form and launch himself into the sky. He'd be able to get a look at what was happening from a bird's eye view and find Queen Wasp and the other Miraculous holders. Dragon Noir was hovering above Paris in a large water bubble at the peak of his arc when he contacted her. "Hey 'Bug, she's at the Trocadero, and… you're right," Dragon Noir sighed. "She's got the other heroes all brainwashed and suited up. Except Ka--uh, the fencer girl is just… standing there."

"Is she okay? M-Master Fu isn't with them, is he?" Ladybug asked nervously.

"I think she's fine, just… non-responsive. I don't see him. Am I supposed to see him?" Dragon Noir asked, concerned.

"No! No." Ladybug breathed out a sigh of relief. "Just… just that Queen Wasp doesn't have access to all of the Miraculous then," Ladybug said. Okay. Master Fu was still safe, to a degree. Even though he wasn't really the Guardian anymore.

"Master Fu" was, in fact, not even a real person anymore.

There had been one too many close calls with Master Fu being nearly discovered by Mayura and Hawkmoth, and with Marinette being as hyper-competent as she was, Fu made the decision to retire earlier in the late summer. After all, the Order had been restored and he was no longer the last of his kind. Marinette had proven herself worthy of Guardianship time and time again. He was just too old, too weak, too slow to react and adapt.

Fu had handed over the Miracle Box to Ladybug at the end of summer. His penultimate act as Guardian was to tell her who King Monkey was after handing out the Monkey Miraculous to Kim. Ladybug became the new Guardian of the Miraculous in secret, and the person that was "Master Fu, Guardian of the Miraculous" was no more after he lost all of his memories.

There was one final "gift" that Master Fu had left Ladybug before his memories were erased. Fu had given her his blessing to use him as a decoy. Better to have Hawkmoth track down and find a dead end in a broken old man than wreak more havoc with more Miraculous under his command.

The knowledge of whoever Chat Noir was underneath the mask got lost along with Fu's memories. But that was fine to Ladybug. Chat Noir was simply her partner, and that was enough.

Though losing Master Fu as her mentor and confidante had been such a huge blow to Marinette. She had spent a week crying in secret until Luka had surprised her one day, visiting her in her room. "Thought I'd join you here if that's alright," Luka had said, and Marinette let him stay with her. He'd just smiled and held out his hands to her. He hadn't even asked what was wrong. He was just present, letting her cry in his arms until she couldn't anymore. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

It had been a good long time until she was able to speak again. "You're already helping me," Marinette had said quietly, pressing herself into the hug. "This is all that I need."

Ladybug shook her head to get back to the present. She stuck her head out of the water and took a quick scan of her surroundings, making sure she wasn't spotted by anything. She got out of the river, drying out the Lucky Charm scarf as best she could. "Tikki, Mullo, Unify!" This was another Big Secret Marinette kept to herself: that she'd been keeping Mullo's Miraculous on her. It had changed a bit recently, now representing itself as a necklace with a pendant shaped like a guitar pick that she hid under her shirt. Marinette was paranoid enough that she couldn't let anyone see her wear the necklace. Multimouse had detransformed in front of Chat Noir, after all.

Sometimes she transformed into Multimouse without any akumas to deal with - breaking her own rule of not using the Miraculous for personal reasons - to be as small as she felt sometimes and hide away from the world. She and Tikki had a lot of heart to heart conversations tucked into a hatbox in one corner of her room.

This time, she was using it to just be stealthy. She used Multitude to split into several smaller versions of herself, fanning across a large area and running down different streets and alleyways toward the Trocadero.

"She's calling herself Miracle Queen," Dragon Noir mused. "The… the others are surrounding her to defend her. I'd say we're in quite a pickle, my Lady."

Multibug didn't stop running. "How do you feel about trying to draw the honor guard away?" one of her asked.

Dragon Noir snorted. "On it. Easy as pie." Over the comms Ladybug heard her partner shout "Hey there demons, it's me, ya boi Chat Noir! I'm standing right here. You brain-dead zombies want my miraculous? Come and get it!"

…

Okay…

One of the Multibugs pulled out her yoyo and took a look at the screen. Dragon Noir's spot on her map kept jumping around, pulling the group of the other heroes away as they all chased after him. Pegasus was using Voyage to keep trying to intercept but Dragon Noir bounced off in a different direction as fast as lightning. She had to give props to Chat, he sure knew how to play that cat-and-mouse game well.

But Dragon Noir wouldn't be able to keep this up forever if Viperion was working against them. She needed to take down Viperion and this Miracle Queen, and she needed to do that as soon as possible. She kept moving forward, scurrying across as fast as she could to get to cover or hide behind or underneath things, trying to close in and surround Miracle Queen from as many angles as she could get at the Trocadero.

One of her got close, so close. Miracle Queen was standing in front of a line of golden statues, and a Multibug was hiding behind one of the statue plinths when she got grabbed from behind. "Aahhh!" she squeaked out loud.

"Not ssso fassst, little moussse," Viperion said as he turned her toward his face, stressing his s's in what was probably a mockery of Sass. "You'll never get the drop on me, can't you see?" He turned toward Miracle Queen and bowed to her with Multibug firm in his grip. "I've found a pest, My Queen."

Multibug held back another squeak. "Lu--Viperion! Viperion, don't do this, don't listen to her! Don't let her control you!" She had been so sure that Dragon Noir had led them all away, how did Viperion surprise her?! She realized he must have used Second Chance and timed it so he knew just when to turn back and stop her. The other heroes must have coordinated to trick Dragon Noir!

Miracle Queen turned her head lazily, examining her nails with a sour look after giving a quick glance at Viperion presenting her the Multibug in his left hand. "Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. A rat? That's the best you could do, Ladybug?" Miracle Queen leaned in and looked closer at Multibug. "Hmm. Although you do have your Miraculous, but they're so tiny. I don't know how much more useless you could possibly be, but…" A wasp manifested above the Queen's hand, hovering and ready to strike.

There was a lightning fast zzzip and a yoyo snatched up the wasp from right in front of Miracle Queen before she realized what happened. Miracle Queen cried out, looking up only to have a pair of Multibugs drop down from above and wrap the scarf tight around her face, blocking her vision entirely. "What the-- Aaaah!" Miracle Queen screamed as she stumbled backward.

Viperion started reaching for his bracelet but the Multibug in his hand reached out as fast as she could and held back the serpent's head to prevent the reset. The two Multibugs that dropped merged together, and another larger Multibug emerged from the shadows. The 2 larger Multibugs lassoed Viperion's left and right wrists with their jump ropes and pulled away from each other, forcing Viperion's arms apart. They coordinated and pulled their ropes backward, unbalancing Viperion and dragging him off his feet to slam his back up against a statue plinth, knocking the breath out of him. This allowed the Multibug in his hand to wriggle free and pull off his bracelet as he struggled against his bindings.

Miracle Queen pulled off the scarf and threw it on the ground just as a detransformed Luka fell to his knees, the jump ropes untying smoothly from his wrists as the Multibugs pulled away and sprinted off in different directions. "DISGUSTING! Ugh!" She stomped toward Luka and grabbed the collar of his shirt and forced him to look up at her. "You're so useless!"

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

Miracle Queen looked to her side, where a fully sized Multibug was glaring at her. "What, this piece of trash?" Miracle Queen mocked, picking a struggling Luka up by the throat until he was hanging a few inches off the ground. "He belongs with the rest of the filthy garbage!" She threw him at Multibug.

"Luka! No!" Multibug rushed in to catch him and they collided, sending them both tumbling to the ground. She sat up with Luka cradled in her arms, he was still dazed from the impact and mind control but it seemed like he was slowly recovering. Her face was set in rage when she looked up at Miracle Queen. "How could you?!"

Instead of responding Miracle Queen summoned a new swarm of wasps. Miracle Queen commanded her wasps to "Get her!" just as Multibug's earrings beeped, starting the countdown to her powers running out.

Multibug growled, trying to decide between letting Luka down to deal with the threat or getting them both out of there as fast as possible. She made her decision, throwing out her yoyo and hooking it onto a railing, pulling her and Luka away from the Trocadero as fast as she could manage trying to outpace the wasps. But even after a few swings the wasps were still pursuing and inching in closer, much too close for comfort. Multibug wasn't sure where she could go that would be safe so she gritted her teeth and dove both her and Luka into the Seine.

⁂

Luka's head was swimming in black and white static. It felt like he was floating in a sea of quicksand, getting swallowed up and drowning in grainy noise. He couldn't have any thoughts of his own last longer than a second, they'd all been drowned out by this stupid buzzing. He must have gone crazy.

"--bzzzkrrzzzzkstshshhbzzzshzzzLuka!bzzzsrrkzstzz--" Wait, that was… that sounded like-- "--rrrbkzzzzshshkstbzzzssskchssshbrLuka!rssshkzzzbzkrrrrbzzz--" Marinette! For one split second he saw her. She'd been panicked, looking up at him with worry. He hated that he made her feel this way.

He felt his legs being forced to move. Something was tugging at his hand, something warm, something small, but the sensation of it kept slipping away unless he fought hard to concentrate on it. Then it let go, letting him fully sink back into the static. He could sense that he'd been walking for some time, and then he stopped. There was this… grating noise on top of the static that must have been someone's voice tell him something… something about… the Miraculous?

Hissing sounds started overlying the buzzing in the background. He felt something tightly coil at his wrist, and when he could stop and focus against the pressure wave of sound that pressed into him from all sides, he noticed that a lot of that hissing came from… that coil? It was shapeless, the definition of its boundaries lost in the black and white grainy spots that covered his vision.

He felt that thing that was hissing bite into his wrist, and man, ouch, what the heck was that-- He started seeing distinct outlines and colors, forms and shapes, could hear silence beyond the buzzing… He could faintly see Sass? That little guy was sinking his fangs into Luka's wrist… He almost got back in control of his senses with the pain from Sass' bite when it felt like his head got yanked back by an invisible hand and it slammed his head forward into the static, sending him back into confusion.

Wait, could he… he couldn't tell if he was breathing, but he could still feel his heartbeat. He needed to focus on that, maybe try to feel the pattern, feel the pulse, meditate on that constant rhythm like a metronome. Could he break free from the static with that?

Sass bit him again. Luka was hoping it was the kwami trying to help more than hurt Luka. He trusted Sass, didn't he? Yeah. Yeah, why did he question that? There was a blinding flash that forced Luka to blink and he forgot about both his meditation and Sass trying to get his attention. What might have been an eternity or a few seconds later, there was another flash, but Luka tried to keep his eyes open. He could swear he saw Sass more clearly in that flash, but what did that mean?

There was another flash. Followed by two more. He'd grabbed something in his left hand. Mouse, he suddenly thought. "--zzzzzzbzzzzhssssssssshshshchtchssszzzzViperion!brrsssszzzzzrrzzz--" Viperion? Was that who he was? Were the blinding flashes his use of Second Chance? Wait… who was calling him? He had the faintest impression of red, or pink maybe, or blue-- Marinette's eyes were staring back up in fear, in pleading -- why couldn't he help her? He wanted to make her happy but he'd just been so--

"You're so useless!"

Yeah. He knew that.

The static noise abruptly stopped and he was looking up at yellow and black, the masked face of Miracle Queen. Her magenta eyes were narrowed and mocking and full of derision. She lifted him by the throat and he was struggling against her, but then he got flung aside. Marinette's voice cut through the lingering thick fog in his mind. "Luka! No!" He landed on something softer than the concrete ground. "How could you?!" Marinette yelled at Miracle Queen, sounding the most angry he'd ever heard her.

Wait, this wasn't Marinette… was it? Luka had tried to get a better look at the girl who was holding him up but then she sent them both soaring through the sky, pulled along by her… magic yoyo. Ladybug? She didn't look like Ladybug… or no he saw some red and black along with the pink and gray of the rest of her suit.

His face was right next to hers. He heard the beeping of her earrings get faster. He also heard Chat Noir's voice coming through Ladybug(?)'s earrings. "Sorry 'Bug, I'm out -- I gotta recharge!"

"Me too!" Ladybug replied, yelling over the wind. "Sorry Luka, we're going in," she said more quietly, pulling him in closer and cradling his head against her chest. Then they both plunged into the Seine.

⁂

To be continued...

Oh boy what a pickle >_>

#fxl fic #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #ladybug #chat noir #dragon noir #multibug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #miracle queen #viperion #akumatized(?)!viperion #lbscexchange2021

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