#y’all are about to see how terrible I am at figure side profiles
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grooviestsadpapaya · 5 months ago
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Guess who is making turnarounds because 1) art fight and 2) oh yeah? Lois? Turn around
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shurisneakers · 3 years ago
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shut in [epilogue]
Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)
Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing
Word count: 4k
A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)
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Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist
Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.
You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.
“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.
“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.
Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.
The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.
“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.
“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.
A code.
He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.
The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.
"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."
"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."
“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”
It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.
You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.
“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.
Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”
“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.
“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”
“Anything other than peanut butter.”
Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.
It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.
But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.
“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.
“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.
His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.
“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.
He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.
“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.
It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”
“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.
“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”
“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.
“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.
You looked at your watch and sighed.
Seven minutes.
Things were fine. Things were good.
Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.
It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.
Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.
He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.
“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.
“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.
“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”
“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”
“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”
“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”
“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”
“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.
“The laundry.”
“The dishes.”
You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.
“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”
The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.
It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.
Four minutes.
Almost time.
The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.
Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?
Something was wrong. Something was off.
Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.
Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.
His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.
His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.
“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”
The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.
“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”
He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.
Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.
It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.
He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.
And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.
Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.
His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.
A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.
You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.
A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.
And what a terrifying thought that was.
It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.
Four months since you had seen either of them.
The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-
When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.
“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.
You knew he’d be early.
“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.
Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.
You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.
“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.
He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.
Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”
You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-
“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”
You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.
“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”
“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.
A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.
“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.
Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.
“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”
You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.
“How’s that goin’?”
“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”
There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.
“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.
“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.
“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”
“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.
Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.
“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”
“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”
“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”
“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”
“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.
“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”
“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.
“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”
You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.
“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.
The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.
“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”
You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”
“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”
“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”
“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.
“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.
“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”
“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.
His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.
“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”
You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.
“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.
Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”
“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”
Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.
“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”
“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”
“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”
“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”
“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.
“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.
It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.
“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”
You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.
You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.
But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.
“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“I’m proud of you.”
If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.
The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.
It was Sam. Your Sam.
You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.
“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”
“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.
“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.
“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”
That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.
“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.
“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.
“One of the best.”
“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.
He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.
The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.
“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”
His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”
“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.
He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.
Things were different. You were different.
And he still came back to you.
--fin--
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3
thank you so much for reading!
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mcrmadness · 4 years ago
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Madness draws: Behind the Scenes of the latest Farin&Bela pencil drawing.
Aka the one that’s also my icon, even when that was a big risk to take because normally I start hating the photos I have once drawn, especially if I have failed miserably. This is how the drawing itself turned out:
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ATTENTION: The original post about that drawing, with better image, behind this link.
This post is solely about the process itself with lots of pictures and also plenty of gifs, because I promised to do one if people would like to see that and I got some comments saying that they’re looking forward for that. So, here’s now that post!
For starters I have to apologize for the terrible quality that is the photos. I used my phone camera only and never thought about posting them, I just took them as a reference for myself and to show the progress to a friend and only after finishing the drawing I noticed that the angle of the camera causes a huge impact on the perspective of the drawing, so I sometimes might have done useless work when I thought some perspective was wrong when it was actually the photo that was wrong and not my work! I mean, take a look at these photos of the finished piece:
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You see that? I realized this when I took maybe the second photo of the Farin sheet and looked at it and couldn’t believe my eyes because I didn’t remember drawing his torsto THAT small! And then I looked at the drawing and was like “wtf???” because it looked nothing like in the photo and then it hit me...
Also, another thing that I learn was that I might need to pay more attention to the perspective of the whole thing also because when I draw, I sit at the table so I am constantly seeing the drawing from my perspective instead of looking at it from above so that’s probably also going to affect the way I draw. I try to keep that in mind in the future so I can avoid redrawing things again and again just because my perspective is different than the reference photo’s.
Also the giant forehead of Farin’s in the photo on the right might have caused me to laugh a bit too much but anyway, let’s continue~ Or more like: let’s start for real this time.
Here’s the reference photo to y’all:
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What I did in photoshop was to draw a line between them to see how I can divide the photo on two A4 papers. I had been thinking about this photo for some time already because it’s one of my favorites (but now I just feel cringy looking at it after I have drawn it... goddamnit!), and I got this idea that I could try drawing it on two papers in case I fuck up so I can start over or try again without having to do twice the work! Which was actually a good decision because this was the first version of Farin:
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And it was awful. I also realized I had never drawn Farin’s face from he front. I have drawn him before from the side a few times but maybe once it came out actually good so that was why I decided to do the 2 paper method - because I knew it was not going to be an easy job! Bela is relatively easy to draw so I knew already that I would not have too many problems with that one.
I struggled with Farin’s eyes the most, at first.
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It took me a while to figure out how to do that white line in his lower lid. Keep in mind that this was my first face portrait in over 10 years so I was very, very rusty and I just didn’t remember how to draw like anything anymore. (The photo is tilted because Bela’s face is a bit tilted and my hand can’t draw anything that is not straight [lol] so I have to rotate the photo in order to even draw the sketch of Bela’s eyes.)
So I took my sketchbook and tried to do some eyes...
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I was still struggling so much here until I remembered about blending. And I didn’t have my hopes high but grabbed the eyeshadow applicators (my fave tool for blending) anyway, and switched to my other sketchbook in case the paper was the issue and:
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Blending. It was all about blending! So with that in mind, I realized I can continue and I don’t need to do these in my old way, everything doesn’t have to have a lineart done but some of the job is done not with the pencils but with the eraser.
Anyhow, the previous Farin looked really bad and was too big as well so I just discarded that and started a new sheet because the old lines were not coming off properly anymore. I don’t remember if this is the old face or new but I think this might still be the old one:
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Yes it definitely is the old because look at those lines! This is the new sheet:
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And in the photo you can see one of my pencils - I use Derwent Graphic pencils, it’s a 12 pencil set with very soft pencils, starting with H, F and HB and ending to 9B. With this one I used F, HB, B, 2B, 5B, 7B and 9B. The white pencil is actually my new love aka the eraser pencil Koh-I-Noor Hardmuth. It’s amazing, I recommend! I just didn’t order 10 new ones this other day. I actually used about 1,5 full eraser pencils on this drawing alone so that’s why 10.
Here’s a “little” gif of the process on Farin:
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I felt crazy when I went for the shirt, and I felt like I was going crazy MEANWHILE drawing it but in the end I did it and I’m super proud of it!
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Below is the reference photo, it was pain in the ass to follow all those lines with my eyes and try to find what was I drawing and where was I but I think I did good. That was a fun challenge.
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Okay so, when I was done with the new lineart, I decided to go for the shading and blending because that’s what really makes the drawings to pop. I started with the left (his right, my left) side of Farin’s face because I’m right-handed, and in the first photo I had done just the left (right) eye and mouth and nose, but in the second there’s also the other eye done already:
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Keep in mind this was not the last time I drew the eyes. Not even close.
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Something was off with the right (left) eye so I had to do that one again and I noticed that when you blend but haven’t erased and cleaned it yet, it looks like a black eye :DDD So here’s the before and after images of that cleaning. (Cleaning = I draw, blend, erase, draw and blend more when needed and then erase again, and repeat this as many times as I need until it starts to look ready to my eye.)
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So here Farin was “finished” but if you still remember the final piece or compare it to it, you might notice it looks quite different. And you’re right. But more about that later, because at this point I started to work on Bela.
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It actually started really well - I also had to do the whole lineart again because it did not match the size of “finished” Farin. I don’t remember if this is the first or second eye but when I had drawn his eye for the first time, I noticed it was not in line with Farin so I had to redraw it. A gif of the progress:
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What’s that brown paper I’m using, you may ask? Well I noticed that people have some sort of paper on top of their art to keep it from smudging and I have no clue what that is so here’s my poor artist recommendation: baking paper! I tested it and it works (if you just remember to keep it under your hand, that is...) so that is, in fact, baking paper! :DD
I have drawn Bela’s face a few times before and he’s just so much easier to draw. In fact I used 4-5 days on Farin but I managed to start and finish (this version of) Bela just in one day. And that means that out of 12 hours (because I literally used the whole day for drawing) I used maybe like... 5h or something on Bela. That’s how much easier he really is to draw.
I don’t know wtf is wrong with Farin’s face but he’s extremely difficult to draw and I’m not the only one who has been saying this. I guess he just looks so regular but still unique enough to be difficult to draw. Bela then again has features that are very unique and very... caricature-like? I mean that just by drawing his nose or chin you can make a comic book Bela look exactly like himself, and with more realistic style his eyes already do a lot, but Farin’s really the opposite. My comic book version of Farin is literally the most basic version I can draw, it’s how I draw those characters and the only thing that makes him look himself is the hair, and his nose in a side profile. So I think that’s why it’s so difficult to draw him because he doesn’t look too regular but still regular enough to make is a very challenging task to do properly.
So yeah, the same day as I started working on Bela, I was also “finished” with the drawing:
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Also look at how different it looks like from this perspective:
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With the reference photo open in photoshop and I don’t understand how Bela looks more like himself in my drawing than in the photo. Also when I showed the WIP to my brother, he said that I somehow had succeeded at making Farin look more like Farin than what he does in the photo even. It’s weird.
But we were still far from finished. I was going to use the fixative on this soon but it just kept snowing the whole week so I couldn’t so every time I walked past the drawings, I stopped to fix this and that. For days I kept telling myself “I’m done, I can’t do more than this, I can’t do better than this.” and considered the drawing finished but still kept fixing things. Every time I was “done” with the other drawing, I saw something to fix in the other one and once that was done, I felt like the first one wasn’t as good and had to fix something from it too. And that led to a cycle where the other drawing was always better than the other and the worse one needed to be fixed. In the end I was hating the whole process and myself and my skills and I was already ready to abandon this whole thing and call it a day and never ever show it to anyone “because I cannot draw”. The photo above, here’s a list of things I redrew after that:
Bela’s eyes, the right (left) one at least twice.
Bela’s nose.
Bela’s mouth a couple of times.
Farin’s eyes x588045028520
And a list of things I kept fixing and fixing:
Bela’s chin.
Bela’s neck shadows.
Bela’s hairline.
Farin’s whole face was tilted so I tried to fix that.
Farin’s face was too wide, which meant also partially redrawing the ear.
Farin’s hair was too long and wide too.
Farin’s nose.
Farin’s mouth might be the only thing I drew only once and I’m actually still extremely proud of how it came to be. I did the lips solely with blending so that was super exciting to notice how I can use it for drawing and don’t need the pencils for everything!
During Bela’s eyes and nose and mouth especially I was hating myself so much and I felt like I was taking the risk of ruining the whole thing and a few times I was certain that was what I had just done too, until I somehow was able to save it again. But because of that, I wasn’t able to make Bela’s mouth any lighter anymore, the color wasn’t just coming off the paper so had to use what was there and make it look like it’s how it’s supposed to be, too.
Here’s a gif about those changes on Bela - the first one has the old eyes and nose, the others have minor changed on the nose and mouth:
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(The blacks probably don’t get any blacker in reality, I did add more color to it all the time but mainly it’s just the lighting and my phone camera changing the brightness.)
I did the final details on his nose without even using the reference photo anymore. The photo didn’t seem to make any sense anymore at all so I was just using my mechanical pencil and the blending tool and eraser to make is look better. To my eye it looked more like a very flat nose with a big tip of the nose and he doesn’t have a flat nose and I tried to get rid of that illusion. I still feel like it makes him look bit weird but I’m not entirely sure how. Maybe it was because of my improvisation, idk...
So, Bela was then finally finished for the last time. In the Farin piece his left (right) eye had been bugging me the whole time and I didn’t want to touch it but still I felt like I have to do something about it because it was bugging me way too much. I then figured I could draw the eye line by line and take a photo of it each time to see if it looks right already or not, maybe I could then avoid doing all the phases before I was sure what to think about it. I mean, now the only way to see if it was correct was to draw e.g. an eye from start to finish, I couldn’t see from just the lineart or unblended eye if it was in the right spot etc. And here’s that progress on a gif:
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The gif about only the eye would look so nice if Tumblr didn’t make the gifs so HUGE - this one is actually only 300px or 400px or something:
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Apparently I also wasn’t happy with the other eye because:
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But good thing is: I really enjoy drawing eyes. I love seeing them to “come alive”, my favorite part was to eraser a bit of the color on the iris to make them look like they are actually shiny! It feels like something so small to do and yet it makes a huge impact on the drawing!
And here’s yet another gif of the whole Farin sheet with all of the changes, including the last changes that made his head narrower, and less tilted and more in line. Look at the left side of his head especially to see that:
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I can also see his nose changing between the first few photos. I keep forgetting about that but yeah, I also fixed that a little at some point.
And last but not least, the whole drawing in some sort of a timelapse gif:
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Last two are the same but just a photo and the scan of the finished drawing. I still keep seeing things I would do differently but no can do, I already used fixative on it, also to keep myself from obsessing with it any more :D And to use it as a study of some sort. I have never been able to draw a perfect pencil drawing and this isn’t one either. I probably never can draw perfect drawings from references.
I do enjoy the whole shading and blending process, so much so that when I was editing these photos, I just wanted to start drawing something so bad but I also figured that I start to lose motivation when I get to the point where everything should be finished but I just can’t make it perfect. Like the current WIP I have, all I should do is to get the proportions and perspective and the lines of their faces correctly and I would be ready but it feels more like a superpower some people possess and I’m not one of those. I don’t know what is it but I just feel that I cannot see. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can’t see what I try to do and somehow keep drawing everything the wrong way. Just like in this post’s drawing too. There’s still things that are wrong and I know what it is but I don’t know how to solve it. My hands just don’t listen to me and they can’t do what I think they should. I also think the reason I cannot draw perfect copies of photos is because you can always see my “handprint” in them. If I copy a photo, it will look like a photo and not like a drawing made by me. So I believe that in my drawing there’s always a part of me visible and I’m not entirely sure if it’s a good thing or not. On bad days it’s not a good thing, obviously. On good days? Well I guess it’s good then because it just means I have my own style which I really should appreciate. But I wish I had my style only when I want it to be visible, but I can’t control it. Just like I cannot write text by hand that would look like it was written with a computer, so I guess I should just try to get used to it, no matter how much it’d bug me sometimes.
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cakesunflower · 5 years ago
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Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 18
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A/N: so sorry for the......6 month wait omg. hope y’all missed Aspen, Calum, and Luna as much as i did. yeeeee happy reading!
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17
Chapter 18
“IT’S LIKE PULLING teeth, trying to get them to talk,” Mali whispered, leaning towards Aspen as she spoke, eyes on the scene in front of her rather than on the wine glass she was cleaning with a dish towel. “It’s painful to watch.”
Aspen’s throat worked. She could only see Calum’s profile from where she was standing, his dark eyes set on the television as it played Home Alone. He sat on the single lounge chair, while his mom sat on the smaller couch opposite of him and his dad and Luna occupied the other couch opposite of the TV. The two of them seemed to be in their own world, Luna having gotten along with her grandpa exceedingly well, talking amongst themselves about the movie. Calum was pretending to pay attention to the movie, while Joy was pretending not to be staring over at him occasionally.
That’s how dinner had gone. It was awkward and seemed to drag on forever, but at least Aspen had Mali on her side, the two of them making up for Calum’s silence at the table. It wasn’t like he didn’t speak at all, dropped a sentence or two here and there, but he didn’t directly speak to his parents. Well, at least not to his mom, anyway. He was still upset with his dad by association, but the true object of his anger was Joy, and he wasn’t too subtle about it either.
Not even the pretty Christmas lights they’d decorated the apartment with could bring a sense of tranquility and joy. Not to this group, anyway.
Aspen would be exasperated by his lack of trying if all of this wasn’t her doing to begin with. She called his parents behind his back. She’s the one who invited them for Christmas dinner and ambushed Calum with it. Shit, what had she been thinking?
The sound of Luna’s giggles broke through Aspen’s thoughts, and she felt herself relax a little bit. At least she could count on her daughter to lighten the mood.
“I don’t know what to do,” Aspen responded to Mali quietly, gripping the bottle of wine. She was ready to down the whole thing by herself. With a disgruntled hand running through her hair, Aspen added, “This was a terrible idea.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Mali disagreed, wiping the last glass. “You’re just trying to save Cal’s relationship with our parents, like any caring partner would want to do. It’s not your fault they’re being stubborn about this.”
Aspen wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, but—” She sighed, eyebrows drawing together in distress, looking towards the living room before her gaze met Mali’s again. In a quiet voice, she added, “I knew he wasn’t ready to move forward and I pushed him anyway. I didn’t—” Aspen paused, frowning as her gaze dropped to the counter, twisting her lips as the guilt started creeping through her veins. “I didn’t give him enough time to be angry—”
“He needs to let that anger out before it becomes too much,” Mali told her. “He needs to say his piece and try to move on. What’s done is done and no one can change the past, no matter how much we all want to, and the sooner Calum accepts it, the sooner he’ll feel that burden lift from his shoulders.”
Aspen took a breath, processing Mali’s words. She was still afraid of pushing Calum, not wanting to push him too far and have him be upset with her again—truthfully, she wasn’t even sure if they were okay from the last time they argued about the very situation. Ever since the arrival of his parents, he’s been in an off mood, which Aspen had expected, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed with his lack of trying after he said he would try. She knew she was at fault for springing all of this on him, knew that if he didn’t hold up his end of the promise then she couldn’t entirely blame him. Still, the dismay was present when all throughout dinner Calum didn’t really make conversation, didn’t engage if it wasn’t with her or his sister or Luna.
Before Aspen could say anything to Mali, Joy’s voice sounded from the living room. “I think it’s time we get going; it’s getting late.”
“No.” Aspen didn’t realize it was she who had protested Joy’s statement until all eyes were on her. Though, all Aspen could feel were Joy’s surprised ones and Calum’s irritated ones as he looked at her over his shoulder. Taking a breath, Aspen offered an encouraging smile. “We haven’t had dessert yet and I was just about to open the wine. Please stay, at least for a little bit.”
She figured, in that moment, she didn’t really want Calum’s parents to leave until at least there was some kind of step forward made. Was she pushing it? Maybe.
“We can’t force ’em if they wanna go, Aspen.” Her eyes met Calum’s dark ones, noted the silent way he told her to just let it go. To let them leave. There was a hint of edge present in the undertones of his casual voice, and Aspen fought from rolling her eyes because she knew he could’ve pretended harder if he wanted to.
“Noooo, I want Grandma and Grandpa to stay!” Luna whined, sitting up on the couch with a frown and pout on her face. Looking at Joy with a puppy dog look the five year old had terrifyingly mastered already, Luna begged, “Please stay! There’s cake and cookies.” Looking at David, she added, “Home Alone isn’t done yet.”
“Lunes,” Calum started, tone genuinely becoming soft as he addressed his daughter. “It might start snowing soon and they can’t be on the road when it does.”
Mali and Aspen both exchanged flat expressions at the lie. It wasn’t going to snow, Aspen knew for a fact, and Calum lying to Luna about it just so she’d possibly drop the subject was ridiculous. So with a lick of her lips and trying to keep her tone even, Aspen said, “Hey, Cal, can I talk to you for a second?”
His gaze met hers once again, the tension in the room returning as she nodded towards the hallway. She noted the way his throat worked in annoyance before pushing himself to his feet, and Aspen shot everyone else a quick reassuring grin as she walked out of the kitchen. They went to Calum’s bedroom and Aspen felt his presence behind her looming as they reached the room, and she shut the door behind her before turning to face him.
Together, both of them demanded simultaneously, “What the hell are you doing?”
Calum exhaled forcefully as Aspen’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? I’m trying to salvage your relationship with your parents.”
He shook his head, jaw tight before retorting, “That’s not your concern, Aspen.”
“We’re partners, Calum, so yeah, it is.”
She saw the anger flash across his face, accompanied by a sense of hurt she hadn’t expected as Calum returned, the edge back in his voice, “If we’re partners then you should be on my fuckin’ side!”
Aspen blinked on an expression of incredulity, lips parting as she inhaled a surprised breath at Calum’s accusation. There was a brief numb silence in the space of the room before Aspen’s brain caught up with her. “I am on your side, Calum,” she exclaimed, fighting to keep her voice low enough so it didn’t travel to the living room where everyone else was. But it was hard to keep her voice from raising with the surprise Calum’s accusation brought. For him to think she wasn’t with him was upsetting and insulting. “I just—I want you to say what you need to say to them and try to move past this.”
Calum gave a shake of his head, slow and defeated. “There’s nothing left to say, Aspen,” he said, voice lower yet still carrying that same level of intensity. He licked his lips as his dark eyes flickered past her and towards the door, thinking of who was currently in his living room, and he expelled a breath. Looking back at Aspen, he continued, “I’ve already said how pissed and upset I am. I’ve told her how she’s fucked up and she’s apologized and I don’t know where we go from here.”
Her heart bled for Calum and the pain he still so obviously was in, attempting to hide it behind anger and stubbornness. But she knew Calum, and as much as it hurt to see him hurt, to see how difficult it was for him to have his parents here, Aspen knew for a fact that he wouldn’t truly feel better until all of this was done with. Calum had always been so close with his parents, was a family oriented man that could be seen in his relationship with Luna, and to see his relationship with his parents crumbled into dust was heartbreaking.
Forgiving Joy wasn’t something Aspen ever thought she was capable of. For the longest time, she hated the woman for everything that happened. But holding onto those kind of strong, negative emotions wasn’t doing her any good. It was only weighing Aspen down, sometimes suffocating her, and it wasn’t until things with Calum had been mended and she finally decided to forgive his mom that Aspen could feel completely okay again. And it was no secret her accident played a big part in Aspen wanting things for Calum to be alright, too. Life was too short to remain under a dark cloud of anger.
“You move forward, bub,” Aspen told him, her own tone growing soft as she took a step towards him, green eyes never leaving his brown. “We can’t change what happened, but we can change how we go from here. I know how much it hurts you to not have your parents, your mom, in your life like you used to. I—”
“I have you and Luna,” Calum cut in, eyebrows drawing together in a subtle frown.
Aspen pressed her lips together into a kind, genuine smile. “You do,” she agreed with a nod. Calum’s throat worked as Aspen looked at him, and she felt herself take a breath. Her shoulders sank in acceptance, her hand finding his. A warmth spread through Aspen as he looked down at their joined hands, maneuvering his fingers to interlock with hers, the sensation of his cool rings one she never tired of. “And if you genuinely feel. . . Complete. . . with us—which is totally and utterly fine—then I will go back into the living room and tell your parents goodnight.”
Calum blinked a couple of times at her words, taking a breath as he lifted his chin, eyes never leaving Aspen’s. She didn’t look away, either, wanting him to know that she genuinely meant it. Sure, Aspen wanted Calum to make amends with his parents, and maybe it was a little too late to realize, but she shouldn’t have pushed him on the matter. She understood why he’d been so pissed off when she told him she’d invited his parents, understood that she’d crossed a line. If Calum genuinely did not want to engage with his parents, if he was content with not restoring a relationship, then Aspen would support him. She couldn’t force him more than she already had, not if she wanted to fuck up their relationship.
Supporting Calum was all that mattered.
“You would?”
Aspen’s smile softened, squeezing his hand, taking yet another step towards him. Her heart thudded within her chest at the look he gave her, uncharacteristically shy and looking so small, and it only reminded Aspen of how difficult this was for him. She nodded. “If that’s what you want, then yeah.”
He was silent as he considered her words, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as he chewed at it thoughtfully. She let him have his time, let him carefully think about what he wanted their next move to be. It concerned all of them, but this was Calum’s decision to ultimately make. Aspen felt badly about taking the choice away from him in the first place, and the least she could do was be by his side and support whatever he chose.
She watched the muscles in his jaw tighten, her eyebrows drawing together worriedly as he squeezed his eyes shut, head lowered as he shook it. Through gritted teeth, Calum confessed, “I want to move on but I just. . . I don’t know how.”
Aspen’s free hand lifted to cup his cheek, lifting his head to connect their gazes once again after he opened his eyes. She offered him a sweet smile. “We can figure it out together.”
They entered the living room, the credits for the movie on TV now rolling, everyone’s eyes on Calum and Aspen as they walked back in. Expectant expressions were painted across all of their faces, and Aspen took a breath before smiling at her daughter. “Hey, Lunes, why don’t you go show Aunt Mali all the presents you got, huh?”
The five year old grinned, jumping off from the couch with Duke hot on her heels as she ran over to where Mali stood, grabbing her aunt’s hand as she tugged. “Come on, Aunt Mali!”
The blonde grinned happily, letting her niece pull her along as her dark eyes met Calum and Aspen’s briefly. She understood the need to get Luna out of the room, happy to comply as she silently agreed to keep the little girl occupied.
An anticipating silence fell upon the room as Luna’s giggles soon silenced behind the closed door of her bedroom. Joy and David watched them patiently, and Aspen glanced at Calum in time to watch him take a breath before gesturing to the couches. “We should, uh, sit down, I guess.”
His parents shuffled around the coffee table, settling on the smaller couch against the wall as Aspen followed Calum to the one diagonal of them. It was silent in the room save for the ever so subtle thick clinking of the chains Calum wore, disappearing under the neckline of his full sleeved dark red sweater. He ran his fingers through his curls, ruffling the shaggy dark locks before he interlaced his fingers together. Calum bowed his head, lips parting as he ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip, running the words through his head before he finally spoke.
“I’ve told you how I feel. . . And I know how sorry you are.” His words were slow, careful, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he uttered them. Aspen watched him, knowing he was thinking while he spoke, making sure whatever was running through his mind, whatever he was feeling in his heart, was properly articulated. “I just don’t know where we go from here—how we find. . . A sense of normalcy in all this.”
“We find it slowly, son,” David spoke up, his voice a wave of smooth calmness as he looked at Calum. He glanced at Joy before looking back at his son, adding, “This won’t be an overnight thing, we understand that. Still, we would. . .” David let out a soft sigh, his hand finding Joy’s before nodding at Calum. “We would like to try and earn back your trust.” His eyes met Aspen’s. “Both of yours.”
“That’s—” Calum breathed out with a shake of his head, wringing his fingers together as he let out a forced chuckle. Aspen pressed her teeth together as she watched him, wanting to jump in with something. Anything. But Calum needed to do this. So she resorted to resting a hand on his knee, a comforting act of encouragement. “That’s not goin’ to be easy.” Calum looked up, looked at his parents, expression a mixture of the conflict he was fighting and tiredness from it all. “You gave me everything I could’ve asked for, but took away the family I never knew I had.” Twisting his lips, Calum added, “Trust and forgiveness, that’s gonna take some time.”
Joy nodded, looking desperate for some kind of relief, some kind of step forward they all were in search for. “There’s no rush,” she assured with a somewhat nervous smile. She looked between both Calum and Aspen, and even though this was about her boyfriend getting back on the right path with his parents, Aspen was appreciative of Joy and David making her feel included in this. Her and Calum were partners; she was glad his parents saw it, too. “Take all of the time you need. Whatever you think is best for your family, it’s how we’ll deal with this, okay?”
Aspen watched as Calum rolled his lips into his mouth, considering their words. She knew that Calum, just like her, was taking note of how Joy and David were giving them the power, a vast difference from the part they’d played in when it came to the situation that led to all of this in the first place. They were in total control over what was to happen, how they were going to move from here, and the importance of that wasn’t lost on Aspen or Calum. They had basically been kids when they’d unknowingly gotten into this mess with his parents; now they were adults, with a daughter to think about and a family they had no intention of ever losing. They were finally in control, just like they should’ve been since the beginning.
Calum nodded, biting the inside of his lower lip as he sat up, shoulders straight. He sniffed, rubbing under his nose with a finger as he looked at his parents once more. Then his gaze shifted over to Aspen, his expression softening once his brown eyes met her encouraging green. A small smile tilted at his lips, hand coming to rest on top of hers that was on his knee. He took a breath, decided and sure. “Baby steps.”
She nodded along, mirroring his smile, turning her hand under his to properly hold his hand. “Yeah,” she agreed, returning the meaningful look he cast her way before shifting her gaze to his parents. “I’m sure we’ll figure this out.”
For the next hour or so, they brought Luna and Mali back out before they divulged into the wine and desserts Aspen had promised. The shift in the air was noticeable, the tension from before having dissipated significantly. Aspen sipped her wine, watching Calum finally be at ease for the first time since his parents’ arrival, Luna sitting on his lap as he held a plate with a slice of chocolate cake, feeding both himself and her. Mali had decided on playing some music, finding a Christmas playlist on Spotify, to keep the light mood in the air. Aspen figured she was maybe worried that lack of it would bring back the tension from before. Aspen found the gesture cute—and probably needed.
Joy and David didn’t leave until everything was cleared out, both Joy and Mali insisting on helping out in the kitchen to put away the dirty dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge. When it was time for Calum’s parents and sister to head out to their hotel, they all gathered by the door, Luna insisting on hugging her grandparents and aunt goodbye. As Mali pulled Aspen in for a hug, she rubbed her back before whispering, “Good job.”
Aspen let out a quiet, breathless chuckle at that, Mali grinning as they pulled away, the two of them sharing a pointed look. And then Joy stepped up in front of Aspen, bringing her a step away from everyone else, and Aspen still felt a prickle of surprise when Joy took her hand in hers and squeezed. “Thank you,” the older woman whispered, the sincerity crystal clear in her eyes. “It means a lot that you invited us. And it shows just how much you care about Calum.” A sadness swept over Joy’s face as she gave a regretful shake of her head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it before.”
Throat working, Aspen felt her heart stop for a brief moment at Joy’s apology, taking a breath. The sense of relief was only growing at this point. “I know you are,” Aspen nodded, offering a kind smile. “Thank you for coming.”
Luna ended up in her arms after hugging her grandfather goodbye, and Aspen rubbed at the little girl’s back as Luna rested her head in the crook of her neck, tired after the day’s festivities. She gently swayed her, the movement subtle yet still soothing Luna, as she watched Calum bid his mom goodnight.
“Our flight isn’t until seven tomorrow night,” Joy was saying to Calum. Aspen watched them, trying and failing not to do so, noting how small Calum’s mother looked in front of him. Not just because of their physical height difference; she took in the way Joy, a woman she’d always known to be assertive and bold in her own right, seemed to fold into herself. She hugged herself, as if she was protecting herself from any oncoming rejection, totally uncharacteristic and Aspen understood why as Joy added, “Would it be alright to see you before we go?”
She spoke with trepidation, not wanting to push her luck after only just beginning the process of making amends. Aspen watched on as Calum looked at his mother for what seemed like minutes that stretched on forever, until he finally answered with a single nod, “Yeah.”
Joy smiled in return, shoulders sinking in relief, as the goodbyes and goodnights came to a close, Calum’s parents and sister leaving with smiles and waves as they closed the door behind them. Calum let out a sigh as he locked it, the night coming to an end, turning around just in time for Aspen to whisper, “Hey, you wanna put her to bed? I’m gonna clean up the living room.”
Calum nodded, gaze shifting to a near slumbering Luna, as he stepped forward and reached for his daughter. Luna easily shifted from her mother to her father, arms lazily going around Calum’s neck as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. He felt and heard her take a breath before snuggling closer to him, and it easily brought a gentle smile to his face as he walked down the apartment and towards her bedroom.
He settled her down on the bed, switching on the bedside lamp that provided for a dull glow as opposed to the harsh brightness of the ceiling light. Calum brushed some dark curls out of Luna’s face as she sleepily smacked her lips together, and he suppressed a fond chuckle as he made his way over to the dresser to get her pajamas out. He sat down on the edge of the bed, murmuring quiet encouragements to the little girl who was seconds away from completely falling asleep as he changed her into her pajamas.
But just as Calum laid her upper half back down after putting on her shirt, thinking she was already mostly asleep, Luna spoke up. “I had fun today.” She spoke in a slow, tired drawl, a bit of a wistful hum in her voice as Calum settled her blankets over her.
He sat right next to her on the edge of the bed, hands on either side of her as he looked down to see her dark eyes blinking open. Calum smiled at the sight of her; for her to be this tired, he knew she did have fun. Despite his own issues, Calum had seen, much at the expense of his tightening jaw, that Luna had been enjoying her time with Mali and their parents. Calum hadn’t made for a much pleasant host to his parents, but Luna made up for it with a newfound excitement towards them. A childlike thrill that had, for the most part, put everyone at ease. “Yeah?” Calum mused, smiling down at her teasingly. “You liked all your presents?” They may or may not have spoiled her—Calum more so than anyone else; his first Christmas with his daughter had proven to be his favorite despite the initially unwanted presence of his parents.
“Mhm,” Luna responded, pulling the blanket up to her chin as her brown eyes met Calum’s. “I like Grandma and Grandpa, too.”
Something tightened in Calum’s chest at that, not entirely sure if it was a good or bad feeling as he heard Luna’s words. He’d been struggling with his emotions ever since his parents had arrived, knowing he hadn’t done a good job in keeping his promise to Aspen in trying to be civil. To actually try. But it hadn’t been too bad towards the end. They had made some progress, as much as they could tonight, and Calum had even agreed to see them again tomorrow before they left. That was more than he’d expected to do. And even though he’d been upset with Aspen over inviting his parents without even telling him, Calum knew his anger had dissipated at this point. Not entirely gone, of course, but slowly crumbling away. Slowly.
Calum took a breath before smiling, finger brushing away a stray curl from her face, brushing along her cute, soft little cheek. “They like you, too,” he told her truthfully. Because they did. He could tell. He wouldn’t agree to seeing them tomorrow if they didn’t. “Come on, bug, get some sleep.”
Luna hummed, giggling ever so softly as Calum leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss. He bid her goodnight after switching off the lamp and turning on her nightlight, leaving the door just slightly aja before stepping out into the hallway. He glanced in the direction of the living room, realizing all of the lights were off and that Aspen was probably back in the bedroom.
He walked in, shutting the door behind him just as Aspen emerged from the bathroom. Her makeup was already off, changed into her pajamas, which only consisted of sleep shorts and one of his shirts, and she offered a small smile as he took in the sight of her. “Hey,” she greeted softly. She nodded towards the door. “She’s down?”
Calum nodded, pushing himself off the door. “Out like a light,” he confirmed.
Aspen smiled, running her fingers through her hair. “Good, that’s good.” Licking her lips, her smile turned a bit shy, and she added, “I, uh, have something for you. One more gift.”
Calum blinked, fighting the urge to laugh because of how similar they were. He watched as she walked towards her bedside before his gaze shifted towards his own bedside, more specifically, under the bed where he’d hidden his last gift for Aspen. They’d exchanged presents in the morning, of course. Gifts they’d bought one another by knowing the other’s likes, gifts they’d both loved. He was gonna give her the last gift before bed, but looked like she had beat him to the punch.
Calum approached the bed as Aspen climbed onto it on her knees, him doing the same on his side, eyes going to the very familiar book he’d seen in her apartment. It was Luna’s baby book, and Calum’s eyebrows furrowed together as she held it out to him, slowly taking it from her but not before shooting her a confused look.
Aspen let out a breathless chuckle, rubbing her hands down her sides as she said, “Just look inside. I, uh, added some more pages.”
His eyebrows raised at that, settling back on his legs as he opened the book. He’d seen the familiar pages, all of Luna’s firsts and the pictures that went along with those moments, until he got to the pages that were definitely new. Calum could feel Aspen watching along in anticipation, in nervousness, except all he could focus on was the pages he was looking at and the tightness of his throat.
There were pictures added in there that Calum knew about, and some he didn’t know anyone—Aspen—had taken. Pictures with the labels of “First Spaghetti Sunday w/ Dad”, or “Dad’s First Gift”, or “First Birthday w/ Dad”. Aspen had added all of these pictures of Calum with Luna, or of the three of them together, of moments that had become some of his favorites. A warmth spread through Calum as he took in every picture, every word, heart picking up its pace. He could hear his own breathing, heavy with the emotion that suddenly washed over him, fingers brushing against the photographs of him with his two favorite girls. Aspen had made sure to make him as much a part of the baby book as he was in their lives, and while Calum was not much of a crier, she did a good job in springing the tears in his eyes with this thoughtful gift.
“Aspen,” he breathed out, voice thick and throaty with appreciation and adoration. “This—” Calum let out a short, disbelieving chuckle as he looked at her. He saw the hopeful expression on her face, eyes wide and small smile, and Calum shook his head. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I don’t—I love this.” He put the book down on the mattress before reaching for her, pulling her into a hug and keeping her close as he said, “I love you.”
He heard her let out a relieved laugh, returning his hug, and Calum shut his eyes as she squeezed him, the smile on his face hurting his cheeks as she returned, “I love you, too. We’re in this together, right? You and me.”
He pressed a kiss to the skin of her shoulder where his shirt fell off. “You and me.” Calum sniffed as they pulled away, and Aspen let out a soft, adoring laugh at the flush in his cheeks, cupping his face as she shot him a grin. “I’ve got somethin’ for you, too,” he told her, prompting Aspen to blink in surprise.
He shifted backwards, one foot touching the ground so he could bend down and pull out the gift bag from under the bed. Aspen raised her eyebrows as he handed it to her. She took it with an anticipating smile of her own, and right as she reached into it, Calum said with a nervous chuckle, “It’s really cheesy, okay? So don’t laugh.”
Aspen rolled her eyes at him, dismissing his thought. “I’m not gonna laugh,” she said, hand reaching past the decorative red tissue paper to grab onto the gift.
Calum pressed his lips together, watching as Aspen pulled out the medium sized decorative jar with a gold lid on top. He watched as Aspen observed it, took in the custom made label on it that read a simple and cheesy message of My Love For You. He felt the heat spread across his cheeks at that, mentally chastising himself for writing something so utterly cliche on the label. Then again, the entire idea of the gift was utterly sentimental and cheesy.
“It’s, uh,” he began explaining, chuckling shortly. “There’s a message on every slip of paper inside for you. Like, uh, reasons why I love you and stuff. There’s, um, one thousand six hundred and forty three little slips in there. . .  One for each day we, uh, weren’t in each other’s lives.”
He watched the way her lips parted at his words, eyes widening as she returned her gaze to the jar she held in her hands. He wasn’t sure why he felt so shy about giving her the gift, the vulnerability not something he was entirely fond of, though when it came to Aspen, Calum was quick to realize facing these types of things was a lot better than running away from them. His throat worked, waiting for her to say something, heart jumping when her glassy green eyes met his dark brown ones.
“Calum, it’s—this is so sweet,” she breathed out, her voice thick with awe as she let out a gentle laugh. Her voice took a teasing tilt, wanting to lighten the emotional mood as she playfully asked, “You have over a thousand reasons why you love me?”
Calum cracked a small smirk, quirking an eyebrow despite his racing heart. “It’s funny that you think I can run out of reasons.”
Her expression softened, a soft chuckle escaping at his words as she gave a shake of her head. Before she let the tears escape, Aspen put the jar down before one had found his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss. Calum returned it eagerly, softly, arms winding around her waist as he kissed her, settling back on his legs once more before using his hands on her thighs to lock her legs around his hips. She tasted like mint toothpaste and he reveled in the familiar softness of her lips, in the touch of her hands on his face as they kept each other close.
“Merry Christmas, love,” he found himself whispering against her lips, wanting nothing more than to melt into her.
Aspen sighed against him, utterly content. “Merry Christmas, Cal.”
--
tags: @irwinkitten​ @sweetcherrymike​ @meetashthere​ @valentinelrh​ @softforcal​ @astroashtonio​ @hereforlukescruff​ @novacanecalum​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @calntynes​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @imfuckin10plybud​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @old-zeppelin-shirt​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @gorgeouslygrace​ @cocktail-calum​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @fluffsshawn​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @tea4sykes @lukeinblue​ @mysteriouslycali​ @hoodcentral​ @rosecoloredash​ @hearts-to-the-sky​ 
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An Unexpected Reunion-- Malcolm Bright x Reader
oRequest; “the reader is an FBI agent who met Malcom in Quantico but they lost contact cause she went to do undercover work and now shes put in New York on. A case and they just catch up and be happy cause malcom needs happy” (anon)
Warnings; specified fem! reader, language, bits of violence, terrible writing
Word Count; 2.1k
Notes; I rewrote this like 5 times so I hope y’all like it lol
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Trainees were separated into groups for various training sessions throughout the day, and a group was never the same. Everyone was rotated around. Your group for the day happened to do incredibly well in the training exercises. “Best so far,” you were told. They decided to reward the group by allowing all of you to have a paintball fight, writing it off as combat practice. Everyone darted to various corners of Hogan’s Alley. You hid behind a dumpster and readied yourself for the battle to begin. A thud from the inside caused your brows to furrow. Since the Alley was a mock town, you knew that there wasn’t any trash inside that would attract any critters. Nevertheless, you decided to check it out. You cracked open the lid, only for something to latch around your arm. “What the fuck, Bright?” He shushed you.
“Come on, this is the best hiding spot here! Anyone comes around, and you can easily take them out without being spotted. Just... just hurry up and hop in before you blow our cover.” You stared at him, blinking slowly. Was he serious? Malcolm’s eyes widened, causing him to look slightly frantic as he motioned you inside. Alright, he was completely serious. You clamored into the dumpster and hoped that no one heard the lid slam shut. Malcolm clicked on his flashlight. He raised a brow and grave you a sly grin. He started to speak, but you interrupted him.
“If you’re about to make this sexual, I swear to God I will shoot you in the crotch right now.” Malcolm grimaced, looking highly offended.
“What? No! I was about to ask if you had heard about how Johnson from the second group pissed his pants in the hostage simulation today,” he rapidly explained. Then he froze for a moment, giving you a doubtful look. “You wouldn’t shoot me this close range. You’re not that cruel.” You held up your gun.
“Wanna bet?” Malcom narrowed his eyes at you. He was challenging your capabilities. What was once a game of hide-and-go-seek turned into a game of cat-and-mouse. Either way, you weren’t losing. You leaned back and pulled the trigger. The paintball hit its target with a loud twap! Malcolm shouted a string of profanities as he curled into fetal position. You clasped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“Bitch...” he groaned. 
“You practically told me to!” 
Fond memories of your old life were what got you through your secret life. Being assigned to go undercover for months on end was no easy feat. There were plenty of times you wanted to call it quits, but you couldn’t. So, you’d think of moments that made you happy. You were beyond relieved when you were able to return home. It was as if you could finally breathe again. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for at least two weeks straight, but, of course, you weren’t allowed such luxuries.
You had awakened too early for your liking but decided to spend the time catching up on all the shows you missed while undercover. You had just sat down with a cup of coffee when someone started banging on your door. You sighed, taking a long sip of your coffee and hoping that they would go away. Luck wasn’t on your side, as the person continued to try to punch your door down. You groaned and shuffled over towards the door. It revealed a woman with curly hair. She gave you a small grin and held up a badge. You squinted at it in an attempt to determine its authenticity. “Hi, I’m Dani Powell with the NYPD. Are you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” You eyed her for a moment before finally deciding that she was telling the truth about her identity. You slowly nodded, slightly confused as to why she was there. “Mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?” she asked, putting her badge away.
“Yeah... what’s... I’m sorry what’s going on?”
“Your neighbor was murdered last night.”
Your body tensed. Was she serious? Could a murder have seriously taken place right under your nose? You turned on your heel and hurried further into your apartment. Dani looked confused, hesitantly stepping inside. You fumbled through a drawer before returning with a badge of your own. “I’m with the FBI. Could I see the crime scene please?” Dani raised a brow at you.
“Let’s go talk to my superior first.” You nodded and slipped on a pair of shoes. Following Dani down the hall, she approached a man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Where’s Gil?” The man furrowed his brows at the sight of you. Okay, so maybe you could have at least brushed your hair before you walked out. You probably looked like a hot mess.
“Inside. Who’s your friend?”
“Special Agent (Y/F/N). FBI. I live down the hall,” you answered. The man seemed surprised, causing Dani to roll her eyes.
“Oh shit, really? I’m TJ.” He started to say something else, but Dani interrupted him. 
“She wanted to see the scene, but I was gonna let her talk to Gil first.” You pursed your lips. Surely, it wasn’t the same person you were thinking of. There was a slight commotion from inside the crime scene before two men emerged into the hall. One was waving his hands widely, while the other looked done with his shit.
“Okay, so we’re looking for-” Your jaw dropped. Malcolm? Here, of all places? The world is quite a small place. “Cookie?” TJ and Dani’s faces wrinkled.
“Stinky!” Malcolm laughed at the familiar nickname as you threw your arms around him in an embrace. Gil smiled at the two of you.
“What am I, chopped liver?” You scoffed before giving him a hug too. TJ and Dani shared a look of confusion, which wasn’t lost under Malcolm’s gaze.
“Team, this is Cookie. Cookie, this is the team.” 
“I’m sorry-- but Cookie?” TJ asked, almost astonished at hearing Malcolm call someone by their pet name. The profiler nodded. A smirk crossed his lips.
“We’ve been friends since Quantico. During training, (Y/N) snuck out of her room to steal some treats. Everyone’s called her that since.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of your nickname.
“And you’re... Stinky?” Dani asked with a laugh. You beamed at the opportunity to share your favorite memory from training.
“At some point during your time at the academy, a handful of trainees are dropped off at random points in the Prince William Forrest Park to test your survival skills. We somehow managed to bump into each other while wandering around and decided to team up. Two heads are better than one, right? So, we were trying to figure out a shelter situation when Stinky discovered a foxhole type thing. I warned him not to go in, but-” Malcolm interrupted you.
“I’m pretty sure you said, ‘We can’t go in there because your head’s too big. You’d get stuck and die before we even get a chance to go on a real mission.’”
“Shut up, Stinky, I’m telling a story. Anyways, the bastard decided to go in. Lo and behold! There was a family of skunks living inside, and he just barged right on in. The dude stunk. Bad. No one would go near him for about a week. So, the name Stinky was born.” 
After telling the group a few more stories about Malcolm and learning a bit more about the case, you went back to your apartment to change into some actual clothes. They still required you to go down to the station and make a statement. Malcolm offered you a ride, which you gladly accepted. You hadn’t seen him since before he got fired.
As the two of you got in his car, you couldn’t help but notice how awful he looked. His hands were shaking, and he had heavy bags under his eyes. “You’re staring,” Malcolm joked, but, this time, the smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. You shook your head.
“Yeah, it’s cause you look like shit, Malcolm.” He turned his attention back to starting the car. He knew that you were being serious when you used his actual name. You watched his inner turmoil, no doubt debating whether he could confide in you. Turning your gaze away, you didn’t want him to feel like a bug under a microscope. “How long has it been this bad?” 
“It’s been bad for a while now, but it’s gotten worse over the past few weeks.” His voice was small, and it made your heart ache. Shaking your head, you got out of the car. Malcolm’s brows furrowed. You poked your head back inside.
“Well? Are you just gonna sit there like a fly on the wall, or are you going to tag along with me?” Without a moment’s hesitation, Malcolm switched the car off and appeared by your side. You linked your arm with his, tugging him along. “Don’t ask questions, just follow my lead.”
You led him to a rather posh boutique not too far from your apartment building. Malcolm seemed a bit concerned as to what you had in store for him, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The older woman working there seemed a bit disapproving as the two of you walked in, giggling over some old inside joke. “Okay, seriously, why are we here?” Malcolm finally asked. You grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch.
“You have five minutes to put the most ridiculous outfit together. Loser has to buy lunch. Go!” 
You scurried away, hoping that he would let loose and have some fun. Luckily for you, Malcolm wasn’t the one to back away form a challenge. Five minutes passed faster than you would have liked, but you thought you did pretty good. You were wearing large sunglasses, a tiara, and a jacket almost entirely made of rhinestones. You turned around and nearly fell to the ground with laughter. You hadn’t expected Malcolm to take the challenge that seriously. He was wearing sunglasses similar to your own, a feather boa, a shiny necklace, and he was even holding a single earring to one of his earlobes. What got you the most was his ridiculous hat, something you would only expect to see at the Kentucky Derby. His smile widened at your reaction. “Looks like you’ll be the one buying lunch.” 
“I lost?”
“Obviously,” Malcolm scoffed.
“Oh, but did I really?” You quickly pulled out your phone, snapping a couple pictures. “I can’t wait to show these to Gil. He’s gonna die.” Malcolm’s jaw dropped. He put his earring down and held a hand out to you.
“Gimme.”
“What? Hell no, Stinky. You’re gonna have to pry this thing out of my cold, dead hands.” His eyes narrowed, and you immediately regretted your statement. Malcolm lunged at you, causing you to shriek and dash away. He cornered you near some clothing racks. His arms wrapped around you as he attempted to wrangle your phone from your hands. The two of you were too busy laughing and fighting each other to realize that you were inching closer and closer to the racks. As you struggled to get out of his grasp, Malcolm had the bright idea to suddenly let go, sending you tumbling forward. You landed on a clothing rack, taking the whole thing down with you. Malcolm roared with laughter and had to lean on his knees for support. “Fuck you!” you called out. He held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “You’re a jackass.”
“Oh, come on, you know you love m-” He was interrupted by the older woman clearing her throat. Her arms were crossed, and she was tapping one foot.
“I think it’s best if you two leave. Now.” You both apologized profusely and even offered to help clean up, but she shooed you out of the store, after taking back their clothes of course. You gave Malcolm a hard time, blaming him for getting you both banned from the store. After the two of you fell into a steady silence, walking side by side, you prompted him with a question.
“What were you saying earlier? I know I love what?” Malcolm laughed, almost nervously.
“I was going to say that you know you love me.” You pursed your lips and hummed. 
“Maybe that’s why I’ve put up with you all these years, Stinky.”
“You’re not a ray of sunshine either, Cookie.”
“At least I don’t smell like skunk ass.”
“That was five years ago!”
~*~*~
Prodigal Son Tag List;
@ourfracturedomens​
Permanent Tag List;
@blitchen​
@blitchen-fics​
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dredshirtroberts · 5 years ago
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Best buckle up buttercupz cause this bout to get splodie
Everything will be under a cut because there is high probability this gets TMI really fuckin’ quick and y’all don’t need that in your lives unless you really give that much of a shit about my bedroom activities.
As those who have been with me previously know, this is all stream of consciousness and also apparently my brain has forgotten most spelling rules so if shit starts not looking like words, it’s not you i promise.
.
I honestly don’t know where to start with this one. I’ve got...a lot of things to go over.
So. If you’ve been following my adventures as of late, I decided to follow a whim and go with a guy I barely know up to Pittsburgh to help him get all his shit out of his old apartment and bring it back down this way close to where I live. 
Things to note about this guy: I met him...uh...2??? weeks ago??? on Bumble which is Tinder but less shitty (but still kinda shitty).
Uh...maybe backing up even more???
*headdesk* oh damn this is a lot hang on.
So. End of April I finally ended things for good with my long term boyfriend. Teal deer, things did not go smoothly there and shit ended badly when I was finally able to move out at the beginning of May. There were like...2ish weeks where we were broke up and I was still living with him.
I’ve had some pretty whacked out emotional responses to this upheaval. I legitimately thought he was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. I wanted that. But he was abusive and not willing to take responsibility for his part in the end of our relationship. So that sucked, but I apparently hadn’t loved him in ages so that part was less painful. I have been far more broken up about losing my two boys in the end of the relationship. I legitimately feel like I’ve lost my children and that fucking sucks and no one fucking understands cause 1) they’re cats and 2) no one i know has done this and had to leave their babies, they usually got to keep their babies. and that’s fucking...
ANYWAY.
About a month? ish ago? I decide fuck it I think I can handle brief and casual attachments so I can have regular sex for the first time in YEARS. cause of course we move in together and the well dries up completely so like, that was not fun. Have a high sex drive and apparently he did not. Anyway, having fun meeting dudes, casual sex and figuring out how to navigate single life and hookup culture. 
There are a couple guys who are prospective long term candidates but like...idek if that’s what I want out of any of this??? because I’m still healing? and trying to keep my feet up underneath me in more than a few ways. I’m also trying to keep my trauma on the DL cause it’s really fucking easy for people to take advantage of me and my issues - it’s kind of how I keep getting into shit relationship situations.
So, like. Tinder and Bumble are fun because I forget that it’s meant to be for meeting people? I just like being super shallow and “sorting” my choices into “yeah I could see having a connection with that one” and “absolutely the fuck not”. I’m 27 and kind of a terrible person on the inside. I overcompensate by being a fucking kindness deathray so i think there’s balance maybe.
Dude comes across my bumble and the fun thing with bumble is if you’re showing as W4M on there, you get to initiate contact. Which is terrifying at first until you realize you literally only have to say hi. So yeah, dude is hella cute, profile doesn’t suck, I swipe like (right, I think?). It’s a match! I open with a simple hi. basic chitchat, whatever.
we go out for a date to a location close by that I actually trust because oh hey he’s moving down this way and has good taste in bars. Food and drinks are had. Take him back to mine cause like, he’s fuckin GORGEOUS. and funny. and smart. 
And he’s like “yeah I’ll spend the night, but I won’t fuck you til we’re sobered up.” Which, i mean, be still my beating heart, yeah? (I WARNED you this was going to be TMI y’all. if this is already too much I totes get it, it’s likely not going to be any better further on). So we go to sleep, and maybe I have a hard time sleepign but I’ve *had* a hard time sleeping. We wake up, do the sexing, and then he buys me coffee. Like, not only did he pay for the entire date the night before, tell me he will not have sex with me while there’s a chance i might be drunk, is just fucking...amazing in bed, but he BUYS ME COFFEE.
So like, alright, this is one I’ll keep around for a while cause I’m doing casual shit, yeah? nothing serious, nothing with attachments. no strings. just free food and sex.
Oh and did I mention he’s a cuddler???? but like? a cuddler that cuddles the way I like cuddling???? do you *know* how hard it is to find that??? I’m apparently very specific in my cuddle preferences. 
So whatever, we exchange numbers (which I do not do with people from these apps until I’m comfortable with them). He’s also got multiple girls he’s seeing right now and that’s totally chill and like, it’s clear nothing’s going to go quickly here, just fun.
Talking - he’s very clever and does the sentence making doing well. He and one of the other girls he’s seeing goes up to P-burgh to begin the great migration, he calls me while he’s out there, and he’s got some shit going on in his life and I’m like, that’s some drama you’ve got there. It’s shitty for you, hope it gets better, yeah? They come back down, and he drops by to hang out and grab some of the shit he left at mines. He’s waiting to get into his new place nearby, and he needs a place to stash his stuff and I have a relatively safely located appartment so I’m like. I think I got a corner for some shit. Then he’s like “hey, wanna go to [area he’s moving to where his parents also live]” and I’m like, sure. I’m down for a quick road trip.
we’re out that way and he’s like “Hey there’s this park this way and there’s a lodge or whatever I think you’ll like” and I”m like, “k I like parks!” and as we travel out and he’s telling me about it I’m realizing this is not like...slide and swingset park, this is national park style stuff. And I’m like ‘Oh shiiiit I know where we’re going he’s right I do like it!’ we get out there and it’s rainy but we hike a little for s&gs, and then he’s like let’s go inside and all the sudden we’re getting a room for the night???? and this is not your momma’s motor-hotel on the side of the road, this is a kinda swanky lodge and i’m like???? okay???? wish i’d known or i’da packed better for an overnight???
so like...yeah I have a great time, it’s beautiful out there. Like...idk if any of you are familiar with the Blue Ridge Mountains, but the fuckin’...the Parkway y’all. Is one of my favorite places to be and this is right the fuck there and it’s great. The weather’s nice, the food is delicious, clearly I enjoy the company, I have a blast.
We stay the night, get up in the morning and head back to mine and we chill for a minute and I change clothes cause eww i’m wearing clothes I’ve hiked in. I get comfy and ready for a nice day chillin at home. And he’s like “So. Wanna come up to Pittsburgh with me?” I’m now I’m familiar with his planning methods which are none. So i figure it’s a quick overnight, maybe 2 nights and I’m like “Fuck it, sure.” I pack a little better but I’m wearing my contacts and I’m like “I can totally sleep in these a couple nights and be fine” and I just kinda...am in his car on a 7+hr drive to Pennsylvania. 
And he’s really easy to get along with. Of course for some reason my period just shows up 3 weeks early out of fucking nowhere which put a little damper on shit but I didn’t have to worry because we weren’t only spending a couple nights up there. We spent nearly a week up there for...reeaassoonnnns?????
I wait til day 3 and I’m like “So...uh, idk if you know this but I had no idea we’d be up here this long or i’d have brought another outfit? and some toiletries?” And he is like... “Um...I didn’t mean to like, abduct you or anything. do you need me to take you back???” To which I respond that all I want is an idea of how long he’s planning on being up there so i can best make adjustments where necessary and that the only date I *have* to be back for is my sister’s bday which is Friday. 
This is all fine and we work it out, but I realize that he doesn’t do “planning” apparently. So I get really good at being proactive with trying to figure out what his expectations are.
He’s your typical 28yo white cishet dude. You know what I’m talking about, so some of the stuff I expressed concerns with, I am trying to temper with the fact that he’s literally just as dumb about the world as my dad is and my dad’s a decent person - an idiot about how the world actually works but a decent person. 
And like? It’s really annoying being near him because he does everything the way I specifically like it? And I never said a damn thing??? because I don’t talk about my particular eccentricities wrt my preferences in how i like being touched/shown affection/cuddled? So he wouldn’t know??? 
Really fucking annoying cause I’m trying very hard to make it so my heart doesn’t take over when I’m really trying hard to be chill and casual and clearly he is just wanting to be casual and shit but then he says things? and it’s like...so off-handed and flip but gives my heart the flutters because?? maybe there’s more than just a small potential?
I get real tetchy on my period and put up with a lot less, i was also less than properly medicated so that did not help, but like...I never got to the point I used to get to with my exes where I just...couldn’t handle being around them or their normal ass selves. This guy does things that are annoying sure, and I had less patience for it than normal and then like 2 seconds later he’s literally out of one of my romantic fantasies about how i would like the perfect guy to treat me? and be around me? 
*sigh* 
Anyway, I had a great time in Pittsburgh cause I’d never been and he found my weakness because I’m a ho for some museums and art and shit and he took me to the carnegie mellon museums and let me just wander around like a doof with my jaw on the floor the whole time. Also we did some other stuff and he took me to Fallingwater which was like an hour or so away from P-burgh but was soooo cooooool.
Oh and I didn’t even mention the real kicker in all of this. He *gets* what i’m going through because he’s been in my shoes previously and it’s fucking mindblowing so he knows what to say and how to do the nice? and like???
IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR I’M NOT READY FOR THIS SHIT HEART. YOU GOTTA LEAVE ME BE AND LET ME JUST APPRECIATE THAT HE’S PRETTY OKAY???
I hate the universe. Thanks tho, U-girl. I know you got my back.
so. That’s what’s been going on. Got back home safely, he’s got his own place like 30mins to an hour away, easier access to the other girls he’s seeing right now, and I have time to properly process and catalog my thoughts before I see him again.
Cause I’m gonna. He’s *damn* good in bed.
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potentiallymrsdevorak · 6 years ago
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In Fields of Flowers (The Arcana)
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Chapter Two: Pink Camellias (Longing for You)
Pairing: Julian x Nijah (my female apprentice)
Summary: Nijah just found out that she had slept with her new mentor. How will he react when she tries to reach out? Will an old flame she had long forgotten spark something new in the doctor?
Word Count: 6,176 (a little less bc no smut soz)
Author’s Note: finally, here is the next chapter! I’m really enjoying writing this series, even though I’m...not very consistent. Lol. I do wanna let y’all know that there is a scene in here that can be very triggering to readers. If you’re uncomfortable with a man forcing himself on a woman, then you will want to skip a certain part with Luka and Nijah about to go out and about the Lazaret (slight spoiler). But otherwise, please enjoy!
Tagging: @drunkenomnist, @juliandevoraknsfw
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Nijah’s nerves had never been so strained.
Just the night before, she had lost her virginity, a very intimate act, to the Dr. Julian Devorak? The man that she would be training under to help cure the plague?
If she wasn’t still wearing her plague doctor’s mask, she would have covered her face in her hands by now.
But Dr. Devorak seemingly kept his composure, continuing to read off the list of names.
“Katja Kuznetsov.”
“Present.”
The voice comes from the desk next to Nijah. She glances over to see the wavy hair of the girl who spoke pinned back in a loose ponytail. She seems nice, she thinks, as Dr. Devorak’s voice pulls her back to reality.
“Luka Pavlov.”
“Present.”
Wait a moment. I know that voice, she thought, turning around her shoulder to see where the sound came from. Luka slid off his mask, sending a wink in her direction.
She remembers him well. Luka was her first crush in primary school. He was also the first boy to ever reject her.
“Well, it seems that everyone has arrived safely.” Dr. Devorak concluded. “Now, if you all get in a single file line, I will take you through the Lazaret. Leave your personal belongings behind, they will get picked up and placed in your new rooms.”
Everyone else follows his command, as if he’s put everyone under an eerie spell. Nijah follows suit, finding herself standing right behind Katja. It looks a little strange, Nijah thought, to have all of us in a line wearing the exact same thing, huh. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was a funeral march.
Katja turns her head a little bit and whispers just so she can hear.
“Are you nervous?”
Boy, if she really knew.
“A little bit.”
“You’re Nijah, right?”
“Mhmm.”
“Okay, we should stick with each ot-”
“I did not ask you to speak.” Dr. Devorak glares at Nijah and Katja through his mask. Silence echoes through the room as no one dares to make a sound.
“Then, follow me.” The doctor demands as he takes the lead, opening up the door to the rest of the Lazaret. The apprentices follow behind, accepting their new fate.
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The tour through Lazaret was...frightening, to say the least.
The walls, though made of brick, seemed colorless and void of anything but darkness. The patient’s wing was rather depressing, seeing so many citizens of Vesuvia essentially sentenced to their deaths with no way of escaping. They were to die in the darkness, away from their families, their loved ones...it nearly broke Nijah’s heart, wishing that she was with her family right now.
She did get a little excited when she saw the medical lab. Various tools and tables were set out in the space, letting Nijah’s imagination run wild. She wondered what sort of tests and examinations she would be conducting in this room, and if she could potentially find a link to help cure the plague.
“My office is right next door, here.” Dr. Devorak continued, pointing to the door with his name written on a large sign. “Dr. Satrinava and Dr. Valdemar’s offices are further down, but they are not always here. If you need assistance or have any questions, please feel free to ask me.”
Oh, believe me, I have questions, Nijah thought as she rolled her eyes, thankful that they were still wearing their plague masks so her sarcasm could not be detected.
Torches lit their way up the stairwell the doctor was leading them to. “And up here is the apprentice wing. This is the only space that you are guaranteed not to catch the plague.” With that said, he unfastened his plague mask, letting his curls fall in front of his face. “You may take your masks off now.”
One by one, every apprentice began to take their mask off. Nijah felt the stale air hit her face as she blinked to adjust her eyes to the dim lighting. She began to take in the faces of her fellow comrades, and tried her best to not focus on the man she found between her legs the night prior.
Katja turns around to see everyone else around her, and Nijah is nearly struck at her natural beauty. Her skin is the color of deep honey, her eyes shining a deep hazel. Her wavy ponytail frames her face perfectly. A simple golden nose ring hung from her septum. She looks like she would be a character in a storybook.
“Strange to see the masks off, hmm?” Katja commented.
“Yeah…” Nijah trailed off, eyes lingering on Dr. Devorak for a moment too long. Her new friend notices.
“Seems you’re a little shocked with the looks of the good doctor.” Katja winks, nudging Nijah in the ribs with her elbow.
The group continues up the stairs until Dr. Devorak reaches a tall, wooden door.
“This is as far as I am taking you,” he states, “for this is the apprentice dormitory. You will all share this space together, which is why it is imperative that no one brings the plague up here. This is the end of the tour. I expect all of you to be seen in the dining hall at sundown for dinner, which is on the floor beneath you. Do not be late.”
With that, he opens the door, the apprentices filing in one by one. Nijah thought that possibly, for one second, she would catch his gaze as she walked by, or possibly a smile…
But she saw nothing, not even a passing glance.
Disappointed, she stepped into the apprentice’s wing, eyes widening at the sight of the windows streaming sunlight in the room. A smile crept over her face as she stepped towards one, the city of Vesuvia far away from her now. Even though it was terribly far, it gave her hope. Hope that she would one day return.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Katja placed a hand on Nijah’s shoulder. “I swore we would be locked in a dungeon the entire time.”
“Me too.” Nijah turned her head to see Katja’s profile, illuminated by the light. She was glad to have gained a friend today.
“Well, we don’t have much time to dwell.” Katja said, sitting on the bed next to her. “Looks like we’ll be right next to each other!”
Nijah looked at the foot of the bed, noticing her bags and violin case were placed there carefully. She sits on the mattress, immediately feeling the stiffness in her spine.
“Oof…” she mutters. “They never said it would be the most lavish way of living…”
As the two women conversed, a figure that Nijah remembered all too well approached them. He looked almost the same, except his facial hair had grown in, trimmed perfectly for a gentleman, and his hair no longer sat on his forehead, but was styled upwards. On top of that, he had definitely grown and spent some time working on his...physique.
“Nijah,” Luka chuckled, extending his hand for her to shake, “It’s been some time, huh?”
She accepted it, giving it a strong shake. “It has. I’m not the little girl with the crush on you anymore.”
“Really? Aw, that’s too bad.” He smiled playfully, sitting on the mattress next to her. Katja shot Nijah a confused look, watching over Luka skeptically.
“Katja,” Nijah explained, “Luka and I were in primary school together. He moved after we had met, so I hadn’t seen him since.”
“How old were we then...around eight? Nine?” Luke pondered, running his fingers over his beard. “That seems like forever ago.”
“Yes, so it seems,” Katja replied, rather coldly. It was clear to Nijah that she did not like him.
“So, what do you guys have planned for the next few hours?” Luka asked, running his hands along the wrinkles of his doctor’s coat. “Anyone up for a little exploration?”
“Pass.” Katja spat, pulling a book out of a bright yellow bag and burying her nose into it.
“Okay, how about you, Nijah? For old time’s sake?”
Nijah pondered his proposal. She definitely would not mind spending time with him (as a friend, of course), and reminisce on their old times. But, she knew no one would be bothering Dr. Devorak right now, and there were some questions that she desperately needed answers for.
“Sorry, Luka, I have a few medical questions to ask the doctor.”
His shoulders slumped as a small frown crossed his features. “I understand. I’ll catch you at dinner, okay?” He patted Nijah on the back as he left her alone with her thoughts.
I have to do this now, or else I never will, Nijah told herself as she stood up from the mattress, sneaking out of the apprentice’s wing without a sound.
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Nijah approached the office of Dr. Devorak quietly, anxious to see him once again. She was worried that she wasn’t going to get the answers she wanted. She rehearsed what she wanted to say to him over and over again, but knew that it would never be perfect.
She raises her hand, allowing her knuckles to rap among the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
A disgruntled sigh.
“Enter.”
Nijah opened the door to see Dr. Devorak sitting in a chair over his desk, facing away from the door. A lone candle was the only source of light in the room, leaving a warm glow around his sihoulette. A cot laid on the side of his desk, complete with a pillow and two blankets. Does he sleep down here?
Dr. Devorak turned over his shoulder, his expression one of surprise. “Nijah. Shut the door behind you, please.”
She listened, letting the door slam with a dull thud behind her. “Ilya, I-”
“Don’t call me that here.” He interrupted her, his voice growing menacingly low. “No one ever calls me that, ever.”
“Oh, sorry…” Nijah twirled a strand of her hair in her fingers. This already isn’t going well, she thought. “Uh, Dr. Devorak, I can’t help but ask you a few things.”
“If you are going to ask of the status of our relationship, don’t even bother.” He turns back around, scribbling something rather quickly. “You are my apprentice, and I am your teacher. There is nothing else.”
Nijah’s brows furrow as she crosses her arms. “How can you just hide everything like this? It’s not natural, Dr. Devorak.”
“Not only am I a skilled doctor, but I also spent some time in the theatre,” he responded, “I can be whoever I need to be.”
His confession broke Nijah’s heart in two. “Does this mean you were acting last night? Was everything you told me a lie?”
“If that is what you need to believe to get rid of your obvious feelings for me, then yes.”
“You…” her lip was quivering, her whole body shaking, “...you’re a monster! What kind of man do you think you are?”
“You’re right,” he stood quickly from his chair, moving fast enough to corner her in the small office. His fist banged on the wall next to Nijah’s head, making her nearly jump out of her shoes. “I am a terrible man. I have done things that you will never know, that you could never comprehend. If you stay with me, there’s no guarantee that I won’t hurt you, too. So, for your sake,” he stared intensely into her baby blue eyes, watching them fill with tears, “forget everything. Forget what I may have said, what I may have done. I’ll only bring you more pain.”
He backed away from her slowly, his expression laced with pure anger. Nijah could barely breathe, she was so frightened. He was nothing like the man she thought he was.
And he saw it in her eyes that she could never trust him again.
“...you are dismissed.”
Nijah wasted no time in leaving, her hand practically on the handle before he uttered his last phrase. As the door shut behind her, she pressed her body to the wall, letting it slide down to the floor. As she crouched with her knees to her chin, she let her tears fall silently. This was the last place she wanted to be. All she wanted to do was to go home and forget that everything had ever happened.
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Julian Devorak sighed as he sat in his chair.
What were you thinking, scaring that poor girl like that? He thought, diving back into his work. His mind went to war, going back and forth with the different possibilities of how he could have made the situation better. His quill scribbled quicker the more he fought with himself, dipping it back in the ink more frequently than earlier.
She needed to hear that from you. She has no right trying to romance you as an apprentice.
But she has no ill will towards you. She just wants to see the good in you.
There is no good in you! There are still some things you refuse to forgive yourself over.
She would find it in her heart to love you.
There’s no way she would love a monster like you.
But it seems there’s a way for a monster like you to fall in love with her.
The tip of his quill broke, and he realized just how tightly he was gripping the writing utensil. He released another heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“What...what am I going to do?”
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Learning about the different procedures in the medical lab was something Nijah found to enjoy. Dr. Valdemar, Dr. Satrinava, and Dr. Devorak were extremely knowledgeable in their content, and taught the apprentices thoroughly. Even though they were a little...strange, at times, she was definitely getting better at her craft.
“Make sure the incision in the patient doesn’t get too deep, keep it in a fine, straight line.” Dr. Satrinava demonstrated, making sure everyone was paying attention.
“If you cut it too deep, bring it to me so I can...ah, clean it up for you.” Dr. Valdemar insisted, licking their lips.
The whole room went silent. Nijah could hear Dr. Devorak swallowing heavily.
Dr. Satrinava rolled their eyes. “Ignore Dr. Valdemar…”
The apprentices spent the first few days testing out their new knowledge in the lab. Since the doctors didn’t want to risk losing more patient’s lives (and to the disappointment of Dr. Valdemar), they all used cloth dummies to practice their procedures. They were also assigned to work in groups and take turns performing on the dummy. Katja and Nijah teamed up together and, of course, Luka joined them.
“All right! Let’s get going!” He said, holding the scalpel in the air. Katja took a small step away from him.
As the apprentices began to practice their incisions, the doctors walked around the groups, observing their work. Whenever they may have noticed something was going wrong, they would step in and correct their work. However, Nijah and the rest of her group noticed that Dr. Devorak was being very careful to stay as far away from them as possible.
“Is it just me,” Katja muttered, “or is Dr. Devorak watching us?” Her snarky tone was aimed right at him, as he observed her motions from across the room.
“I’m sure he means nothing by it.” Nijah said, wondering why the hell she was defending him.
“With the mask on, it just seems more creepy.” Luka added. “Don’t you think?”
Up until this moment, Nijah had even refused to give him a passing glance. Now, as she saw him for the first time since the incident, her entire body trembled in fear. Her blood ran cold as his eyes flashed on her through his plague mask, remembering how those eyes were when he had cornered her in his office. Angry, fiery, wanting nothing but to get rid of her entirely…
“Hey, you’re up, Nijah.” Luka elbowed her in the ribs, trying to snap her back in to reality.
“Oh. Thank you…” She took the scalpel, angling it just so perfectly to cut a thin line. Dr. Satrinava walked by, observing her every move.
“Not bad, apprentice! You have some really nice skills.” They sounded rather cheerful, yet Nijah wasn’t able to read their expression. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside.
At least one of the doctors thought she was good enough.
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A little over a week has passed since the new apprentices first came to Lazaret. None of them had died yet, and everyone was starting to get used to each other’s company. Some, like Nijah and Katja, had become fast friends, spending time together quite a bit. Others cast themselves out, labelling themselves as loners. If people don’t bother them, they won’t bother you kinda deal.
Then, there were the small group of people trying to get together with others.
As time went by, Katja could see that Luka was trying to ask Nijah to spend a night with him. She could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he was always trying to butt into their conversations, his little touches going unnoticed to those who might not suspect anything.
Katja didn’t like it one bit.
Still, she kept her mouth quiet as she watched Luka ask Nijah to spend some time with him, one on one, as they all finished up their project in the medical lab before it was time to leave. “We could walk along the beach, see what lies in the forest…” he was nervous, running his hands through his hair as he asked this of her.
“I wouldn’t mind that.” She nodded. Katja was curious to see her expression through that mask of hers.
He took a step back in shock. “Really? Uh, great! So...I’ll see you after dinner?”
“See you then.”
He walked off, a pep in his step as he left the two women alone. The doctors still lingered, cleaning up the last bits of mess. They ignored the two apprentices, busying themselves in their work.
“Nijah, you really think that hanging out with him is a good idea?” Katja questioned her.
“I don’t think he means any harm.” Nijah answered. “I mean, he was my crush over ten years ago. It’s not like I have any feelings for him now.”
Katja crossed her arms at her chest. “All right. But please do be careful. I just can’t trust him.”
“I mean, if you’re that concerned…”
“No no no, I don’t want to stop you! Just please…” Katja took Nijah’s hand in hers. “...I want you to make it back okay. Holler if you need anything, okay?”
“Of course. Thanks for being such a great friend.” Nijah knew Katja couldn’t see through her mask, but anyone could tell by the look on her face that she was telling the truth.
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After Nijah finished her dinner, she snuck off into the main hallway of the Lazaret. Holding her plague mask close to her pounding chest, she waited for Luka to show up. I know Katja said to be cautious, but...what’s a little harm in spending time with him?
She knew he was coming from the telltale clack of his shoes. Soon, he came into her vision, a huge smile slapped onto his face. He was much taller than she remembered, probably towering over 6’0 at this point. With the shoes, she bet he was even taller.
“Hello, Nijah.” He said, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and bringing her close to his body, embracing her tightly. “I’ve been looking forward to this moment all day.”
“Hello, Luka.” She patted his shoulder blade, not expecting him to be holding her so tightly. He let her go, hands still snaking around her body.
“What would you like to do tonight?”
“I don’t know. There’s so much to do, yet so little time.”
“Ah,” he grinned, “then I guess I can lead the way?”
He opened the door, allowing Nijah to slide through to the outside. Luka looked over the foyer, making sure no one was following, then shut the door behind him.
Nijah felt much more refreshed outside, the cool breeze kissing her skin. The sun had set, and the only light to guide them was from the moon, now half present. Crickets chirped, owls hooted, and the hum of the city could still be heard on Lazaret. The city might be busy during the day, but it can really come alive at night. This seemed true of the Lazaret...at least, the wildlife on the island.
Luka led Nijah around the perimeter of the Lazaret. The further they walked from the entrance, the darker it seemed to get. The torches that decorated the front were just specks in the darkness, unable to provide any further guidance. Nijah’s fingers trailed along the wall for assistance, straining her eyes to follow Luka. Something about him really felt off, as if he had something up his sleeve. In her gut, she just knew that something terrible was going to happen. But she shook it off, thinking that the island was giving her the creeps.
As she and Luka turned the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face her. “You know why I wanted you to come out here?”
“Uhh...so we could hang out?” Nijah let her back press up against the wall, waiting to hear Luka’s response.
“Hmm...yes, but I want a little more than that.” Luka’s hands rested by her shoulders on the brick, fingers splayed out like the legs of spiders. He was getting a little too close for Nijah’s taste, feeling his breath on her neck as he inched closer and closer.
“Um,” she said, turning to face away from him, “what do you want?”
He grabbed her jaw with his hand, forcing her to face him. “I want you, Nijah.”
He took her lips in his own, moaning at their first contact. His other hand wrapped around her body, pulling her right up to his chest. His hand trailed from her jaw to her hair, trapping her in his clutches. It was the most uncomfortable she had ever felt, and every nerve in her body was telling her to get out.
“Ngh…” he moaned, his lips barely brushing hers, “I’m gonna make sweet, sweet love to you. Take it as an apology for denying you so many years ago.”
Nijah pushes herself off of his chest, trying her best to get away from him. “I-I would really rather you not, Luka…”
“You have no say in this.” Luka growled. “You should be thankful someone wants to stick it in you.”
Nijah gasped, surprised that Luka could be so goddamn rude. She took a fistful of his hair to steady herself, and shoved her knee right in Luka’s crotch. As he kneeled over, crying out in pain, she made a run for it.
Damn, Katja was right, she thought as her feet started to go quicker and quicker. I should never have been so stupid...
Suddenly, Nijah felt herself falling in the grass rather abruptly. No sooner had she hit the ground, she felt some force pulling her ankle, back the way she came. 
“No, stop!”
She tried to grab onto the grass blades, dig her fingers in the dirt, but it was no use. Whatever was pulling her back was much stronger than she ever could be. As she turned over her shoulder to see what was pulling her back, her face nearly went white.
Luka was using his magic to literally pull her back.
“Told you that you had no choice, Nijah.” His magic continued to pull her until she was lying at his feet, her doctor’s outfit covered in dirt. “Guess I forgot to tell you that my parents were traveling magicians?”
“You...you won’t get away with this!” She shouted, trying her best to set herself upright.
He just laughed. “Oh, but I already have.”
As he held his hand out, slowly closing it into a fist, Nijah felt him choke her out.
Her eyes went wide as she tried to pull them away, but it was no use. She had no magic powers, could never fend him off. She felt utterly helpless against him.
“If you give me your body, then I won’t have to kill you. Seems fair, Nijah?”
Either way, she would feel dead after he was done with her.
“Never,” she spat, nearly snarling at him like an animal as he shook his head.
“That’s quite a shame,” he said, “I quite enjoyed getting to know you.”
His magic propelled her to the brick wall, hanging her up as if he was pushing his hand up to her throat. Nijah struggled, fingers still clawing at her neck. Her feet were dangling over the ground, like a rag doll being carried like a child.
“Let...ack, me go!” Nijah kicked and shouted, trying to get help from someone, anyone, for her to get away from Luka.
He stepped closer to her, his face level with her own. A sinister smile grew over his face, making Nijah’s blood nearly turn to ice. He squeezed his fist even tighter, and she felt more lightheaded than before, the edges of her vision starting to grow black.
“Goodbye, Nijah. It’s not like you’ll be missed, anyway.”
Nijah shut her eyes, accepting that this would be her last moment. This is how she would remember the world - dark, cold, and unwelcoming.
But just as she thought she was about to slip under, she felt herself falling to the ground, the imaginary hand around her neck gone completely. She took a few deep breaths as she laid in the dirt, her eyes slowly opening to see how she was set free.
She couldn’t see much in front of her. A dark cloak was covering her vision.
“What business do you have here, Dr. Devorak?” Luka’s voice hit her ears, echoing against the brick walls.
Wait, that’s...Dr. Devorak?
“Mr. Pavlov, I hope you remember that apprentices using magic at the Lazaret is strictly prohibited, correct?” Her gaze trailed up the cloak to find the signature tuft of curly auburn hair. He really did come to save her.
“So? It’s not like I was harming a patient!”
“Are you saying hurting another apprentice isn’t a crime?” He scoffed at him. Nijah imagined his silver eyes piercing right through Luka’s skin. “And that’s another thing, Mr. Pavlov. I hope you feel disgusted with the way you treated Nijah. What kind of man do you think you are?”
“I…ah...” Luka started, but this was clearly not his battle to win.
“Go, pack up your things. You will leave when the first boat arrives at the Lazaret. I hope you learned your lesson. And Mr. Pavlov?”
“Y...yes, doctor?”
“I have eyes and ears all over Vesuvia. If I hear that you try to hurt another woman the same way you did to her...it’ll be more than a rock thrown at your head.”
Nijah heard Luka gasp audibly, then the scramble of his feet as he ran off.
Once he was gone, Dr. Devorak turned around and bent down on his knees. His cloak uncovered her vision, revealing that he was wearing a dark colored coat, one that she had never seen before. “Nijah…” his voice softened, the edge completely gone, “are you all right?”
She was speechless, unable to form words. He held his hand out to her, and she backed herself up on the wall, eyes spilling over with worry. When she looked in his eyes, she saw the man that threatened that he would hurt her, that he was a terrible person who did terrible things. She was afraid of him, literally cowering below him, anticipating his next move.
Julian saw this. And he was ashamed in himself.
“Nijah…” His fisted hand dropped in the dirt, knowing how much he hurt her, “I’m so sorry. I never should have yelled at you, or pushed you away.” He sighed, running a free hand through his hair. “I will hurting you for the rest of my life. I hope you will someday find it in your heart to forgive me.”
She couldn’t bear herself to look at him yet. But she knew his words were pure.
Cautiously, Nijah reached her hand out to his, eyes still gazing on the ground. Her throat hurt too much to speak, but he saw it all in the small smile tickling her lips, all in the warmth of her fingers brushing on his gloved skin. It’s okay, everything will be okay.
Julian let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she felt something, whether it was love or forgiveness, for him. He gazed over her dirty figure, only one thing on his mind:
“May...may I hold you?” Julian asked.
Nijah nodded, finally facing him as she extending her arms out to him. He accepted her willingly, pulling her to his chest as her legs splayed out on the ground. His heartbeat quickened as he felt her body against his again, this time in an act that felt even more intimate than their last. As her face nuzzled against his doctor’s coat, he felt happy. Happy that she was here, happy that he had found her before it was too late.
It was then that he realized that Luka will still be staying in the dormitory before he goes off the next morning.
“Nijah, are you comfortable sleeping in your bed tonight?”
He felt her shake her head on his chest, a solid “no.”
“Would you...want to stay in my room? It’s not the room with the cot, I promise.”
This time, it’s a frantic “yes,” a nod that makes him chuckle lightly.
“Ah, let’s go then. Upsy-daisy…”
He hooked his arms under her legs, much the same way he carried her not too long ago, and escorted her to his bed chambers. As he carried her through the Lazaret, long after everyone had fallen asleep, she was thankful that he had rescued her. She felt safer in his arms than anywhere else.
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He carried her all the way to his office, and when the door behind them had been shut, she found her footing on the solid ground. He lifted the cot from its place to reveal a trap door. As he opened it, a staircase consumed with darkness opened itself up to them.
“Follow me,” Julian whispered, one hand holding a lit candle and the other snaking its way between Nijah’s fingers. Her head was much clearer now, and she accepted it, allowing him to lead her wherever he wanted to go.
He guided her down the dark stairwell, leading into a small room with a large bed occupying the space. The blankets and pillows smelled like they had just been cleaned. The scent relaxed Nijah as Julian guided her to sit on the edge.
“I hope you enjoy your rest.” He says before taking one of the pillows. “If you need me, I’ll be down here.” Without another word, he plopped down onto the cobblestone floor and laid his head down to rest, blowing the candle out to envelope them in complete darkness.
Um...okay, Nijah’s eyebrows twisted in confusion. He still must have some physical boundaries with me. Letting Julian off to do his own thing, she climbed to the top of the bed and snuggled herself under the covers.
She closed her eyes to sleep, but the frightening memories of Luka still haunted her mind. She could vividly remember how his lips hungered like a bloodthirsty animal on hers, how his deep voice shook her to the bone, how she felt like there was no way to escape. And his eyes, oh hells, his eyes. He stared at her like she was nothing more but prey. And how his grin turned devilish as he tightened the grip around her neck, watching her take her last few breaths before…
“Ah!” Nijah gasped as she shot up in bed. She hadn’t been sleeping for long, but she already felt a warm rush fill her cheeks and a cold sweat on her brow. She did not like the things he was doing to her. Secretly, she wondered if it was his magic still at work...
“Nijah?” A voice called out in the darkness. A flick of a wrist, and the candle was burning brightly again.
“...yes?” she squeaked timidly.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Not really.”
“How can I help you?”
Nijah looked down and realized she was still wearing her dirty doctor’s clothes. Slowly, she began unbuttoning them and discarding them to the side of the bed. As her feverish skin met the chilly air of the underground bedroom, she knew exactly what she needed.
“Julian...can you come sleep up here?”
On the floor, Julian made a startled noise.
“Ah, I don’t...are you...do you…” he cleared his throat, popping his head up so Nijah could see his gleaming eyes. “Are you sure thahhhhhhh...”
His eyes lingered over her bare skin. She was wearing the shirt that he gave to her less than a fortnight ago, the plunging neckline bringing back his memories from that night. It clung on to her womanly form, just sliding off of her left shoulder. Julian couldn’t see what was hiding underneath the covers, but he wanted to find out. If, of course, she would be willing.
“Oh! Ah…” she pulled the covers a little higher, slightly embarrassed that he had seen her in such a state. “I don’t need you to touch me that way...I just need you to hold me.”
Nijah swore he heard him sigh in relief, but she would never be able to tell. “That...that I can do.” Julian smiled as he stood up from his place, making his way next to her on the covers. He blew out the candle as he was next to her, placing it on the floor as he tucked himself in, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest.
“Is this what you wanted?” Julian whispered, his lips resting at the crown of her head as his fingers intertwined with hers, resting near her chest.
Nijah took in a deep breath, filling her senses with his presence. His musky, yet charming scent filled her lungs and relaxed her. His cooling touch made her feel like herself again. Hearing his voice comforted her when it once frightened her. Her relationship with Dr. Julian Devorak might be quite the roller coaster, but right now, she had never been happier.
“Yes. Thank you.”
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In her dreams, she was in a much happier place. There was not a cloud in sight, only sunshine fell through the trees of the forest she was running through. A happier tune played through her head as her bare feet touched the ground. She was running towards something, but what?
Finally, she stopped in front of a field of flowers, spreading as far as the eye could see. Many colors filled her vision - pinks, purples, blues, and the many meanings of the flowers resounded through her mind. Some of them her favorites, some of them she had never seen before, that must hail from a different world. Although it was a wondrous place, a beautiful place, she couldn’t help but wonder…
Why am I here?
But soon, she knew her answer.
She was running toward a man she had grown to become quite fond of. As he turned around to see her, his auburn curls blew in the wind, making him out to be the most gorgeous man Nijah had ever seen. He was wearing his white, billowy shirt and his black pants, definitely her favorite outfit he had ever worn. He opened his arms to catch her, to hold her close to him and spin her around in his embrace. When she held him, she felt like she was home at last.
Julian set her down gently, smiling as if he had a surprise for her. She felt a wave of excitement flood her body as he reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a simple flower, blowing gently in the breeze.
A pink camellia, she whispered to him.
One by one, he began to pick off the petals, letting them take flight in the air. She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not… He sang, his eyes never leaving her own.
As he played his little game, Nijah saw the sky become dark with storm clouds, cutting off any possible light from the sun. A frosty gust of wind blew through the field, and all the flowers around her fell to the ground, brown and withered. Still, Julian pursued, even though the world was falling apart around them.
The angry clouds turned red, thunder crackling through the sky. Nijah had never felt more terrified in her life.
Julian, stop! Let’s get out of here! She screamed, but her cries fell to deaf ears.
Then, the last petal was pulled, and a creepy grin stretched over his face.
She loves me.
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docholligay · 6 years ago
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The Grand Complication
Hey everyone! This is the Sequel to We Know The Devil, commissioned on Patreon! It’s 7,600 words, and I hope y’all enjoy it--I HAVE BEEN STARING AT IT A LONG TIME. 
Dying was like getting on a ship, unsteady and awkward, unfamiliar and strange. She drifted further and further from the dock in dips and waves, and the faces she knew so well grew more faded and harder to define, the sounds of their voices blending into the white noise of whatever came after, brighter and brighter white surrounding her, the wobble giving way to a gentle soothing, rock, until the pain itself left her, an unwanted rope tying her to shore.
She gave one last look at the distant, dim line that made up her life, let the last gust fill the sails of whatever came after, pointed her eyes to that steadfast star, and died.
_______
“I could promise her again and again, hour after hour, that I would never do such a thing again.” She looked out the window, where a pair of birds fluttered together, mockingly in love, “But it would be a lie, I am very nearly sure of it. Even if I did not wish it to be.”
Rei fiddled uncomfortably with her cup of tea, the loose splinters of the leaves whirling like smoke in the bottom of her mug, and she begged the fire and the tea leaves and every method of divination she knew to give her an answer to her own feelings. She hated Michiru. She loved Michiru. Michiru could have killed Usagi. Michiru was a victim of her own loves, just as Usagi. Michiru didn’t care about her duty. Michiru had nearly died saving the commander she loathed. She wanted Haruka to continue to spurn Michiru. She wanted Michiru to know the light of Haruka’s love.
Michiru seemed smaller, somehow--she was never, in truth, large, but her bearing had filled a space as such that one barely noticed the delicacy of her features, the brevity of her height--as if when Haruka had withdrawn from her, she had shrunk into herself, a vast universe imploding. As she sat up weakly in her bed, she looked every inch the small and sorrowful society princess she must always have been.
Michiru leaving Haruka had made them friends, years ago, when they were young and Michiru had tried to spit in the eye of fate the only way she knew how. But they were no longer young, and anger, not love, had separated Haruka and Michiru, and their friendship, if it could be called that anymore, felt as fragile as it had in that cautious beginning.
Michiru looked at the ring on her finger. “She hasn’t been by to see me.”
She doesn’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say.
Michiru gave a half-smile. “It was easier, when I was simply the villain of the tale, was it not?”
“She just doesn’t know what to say.” Rei admitted to the easier half of the thought.
Michiru shook her head. “She will never forgive me. She is a woman of some principle.” She took a sip of her tea. “You will never forgive me.”
Rei wrinkled her nose, insulted. She wasn’t even certain what Michiru had said was wrong, but she didn’t appreciate being told her own mind. 
“Usagi forgives you.” She said, scowling at Michiru, as if that settled the question entirely. 
“Ever my consolation,” Michiru laughed bitterly, looking back to Rei, “I still dream of her, you know. Small things, sometimes. Still with the gift, if we may call it that. MInako’s disapproval could not take that from me even if she’d wished it.” 
Rei tried to tell her that she saw things too, though her gift was so much tighter in, so much closer than Michiru’s. Mina had once joked that Rei was nearsighted and Michiru was farsighted, and neither of them were that useful. 
She saw Haruka thinking about buying flowers and coming to the house, she saw Haruka thinking about moving to the other end of the country, she saw Haruka putting her ring back on, she saw Haruka setting up a dating profile. She was a soup of emotion whose ingredients changed daily, and every night since Michiru had saved Mina in the woods Rei had tasted it on her tongue, Haruka’s soul crying out to know her own heart. 
She opened her mouth to say something, but Michiru interrupted her. 
“Yes, she is rather a melange of emotion and action lately, isn’t she?” She picked at her silk robe. “I see it too. I see her with some other girl, pinker in the cheek and quicker with a smile than I have ever been. I see her lying cold on the rocks of a battlefield. I see her broken and healed, with our children, laughing. We’re happy in odd circumstances. That, I am not ashamed to note, is my favorite.” She turned away from Rei. “It is the rarest, of course.” 
“She just doesn’t know what to say.” Is all Rei replied. 
______
“There are monsters in the deep,” her nanny said, though she did not mean it to be threatening, the smile on her face betrayed. She was only teasing in the way she often teased Michiru gently, knelt by her side at the edge of the yacht. 
She wrinkled her nose at her nanny as she giggled, holding her doll a little tighter and coming in for a hug, her arms wrapped tightly, the candy-warm scent of her filling every space in her mind. 
There was a tear from the ocean, spray rising up as a darkness slipped into the sun, the sheer size of it blocking the sun and casting Michiru into shadow. Its tentacles, formless and coiling as smoke, wrapped around her nanny and threw her into its gaping maw as Michiru screamed and cried, it’s only response to take her doll and cast it into the sea. 
She ran, screaming, around the yacht, but there was no one, and nothing, only her, and as she tripped she skinned her knee on the ground, just peeling away that first terrible layer of skin. Just enough to cause the most pain. 
Her eyes widened as the creature’s tentacles surrounded her, whirling into a tornado around her, and then a tendril landed on her shoulder, fire deep from the sea branding into her, and felt the skin blister under its hot unending burn. 
The salt was from the sea, and the sea was her, and she felt the salt of her own spray trickle past her lips, and a cheerful smiling crescent moon rise in angered red on her back. 
______
“You look like shit,” Mina scoffed, ignoring that she could barely sit up half the time, “Maybe try sleeping more than three hours.” 
Haruka shrugged. “How am I supposed to sleep when I’m taking care of you?” 
Mina scoffed. “Don’t blame me for the bags under your stupid gay eyes. You fell asleep next to me yesterday afternoon.” 
“So? A nap is--”
“While lunch was on the stove.” 
Haruka sighed and sat down on the side of the bed in a defeated flop and shrugged again. “Sorry.” 
Haruka was one of the simplest and most complicated creatures Mina had ever known, a woman of contradictions. It was easy to tell how she felt, but hard to respond to it. She craved love and comfort and rejected it the instant it was given, pulling herself back in her too-small shell. Mina had, over the years, gained some manner of trust with her, but still felt as if she were moving slowly toward a deer about to bolt, emotionally creeping inch by inch. 
And so, she could not simply say what she meant, that she hadn’t woken Haruka up because she cared if the ramen burned for hours. That she’d wanted to let her rest and sleep, and let it burn. That she’d woken Haruka up because she was crying, and that she’d pretended not to notice when Haruka turned away quickly. 
“I’m not mad, Haruka, I’m…” she carefully selected the word, her voice soft and cautious in a way it rarely was, “worried, about you. You’ve had a tough year.” 
“Yeah.” She looked at her hand, the scarred line of bright white where her ring used to be faded now, nearly blended into the skin, but let the word stand as her only reply. 
Haruka flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, as Mina patted her temple with the edge of her toe. 
“I had a dream last night,” Haruka said to the white open possibility of the ceiling, “I mean I know my dreams don’t mean anything, I’m not Mi--Rei. I’m not like Rei.” 
“What was it?” MIna said cautiously. 
It was true that Haruka was no Seer, but it was also true that Michiru was a traitor who had saved Mina’s life, and it was also true the Usagi was a Queen who could not rule, so Haruka having a glimpse of what the world might be would no longer surprise her. 
“I dreamed I died,” she continued to stare up at the ceiling, her eyes hazily following the long crack in the old plaster, “but it didn’t help.”
“Why the fuck would you dying ever help anything?” Mina snapped like a turtle, annoyed and surprisingly hurt at Haruka’s surprise that her death would not be largely beneficial. The jerk of it made a wild sting run through her body that mellowed into an ache, like the whip of a lash, and she laid back on the pillow. 
Haruka sighed. “Like…” she struggled to articulate, struggled to decide if she wanted to articulate at all, and closed her eyes, sighing and turning her head away from Mina, “everyone was still the same.” 
Mina sat for a moment with her thoughts, trying to figure out how to tell Haruka what she knew. Michiru. You mean Michiru. You mean that you being dead didn’t make her any more loyal to the crown. She was conscripted, and she’ll never really be a believer. 
“I don’t think you dying is the answer.” She offered. “I think people are just people.” 
“Then what’s the answer?” Haruka asked, as if her death had been the only sure thing that she could count on to repair the world. 
“Maybe there is none. Sometimes there’s not.” Mina shook her head. “People are just the way they are,” her voice grated with a touch of anger, like a match against the side of the box, “you can’t change a bad person.”
“Yeah.” Haruka nodded, her head bobbing like a boat on the sea, “Yeah.”
____
There was fire everywhere, different colors twisting and burning, the scents and smokes surrounding her. All of it was ash and smoke, consumed. 
Mina fell to her knees, trying to find the entrance, feeling along the too-hot floor desperately, hoping for any escape from the heat that oppressed her and entered her lungs, burning her from the inside. 
There had to be a way. Had to be. 
Glass shattered against the rising temperatures, and a photograph came fluttering down, catching fire as it did so, the edges of the photograph blackened and beginning to eat toward the people in the picture, who waited with smiles on their faces to be destroyed. 
An old wedding picture. With all of them there. Usagi’s tears still dripping down her face, even as the ceremony was over. Mina’s bright turquoise bow, changed for the occasion. Rei still clutching the bouquet she had certainly not meant to catch. 
She heard a crunch and looked up, hoping the door had given way, but saw only a leg in front of her, stepping forward and crushing the photograph into ash.
She looked up and saw her own smiling face, a lit match held in her hand. 
____
It was a place far away from everyone, and for that reason, Rei never told anyone about it. It was a secret part of her heart and her story and most of all, in this moment, her mind. It whirled and twisted, smoke in a glass globe writing words and erasing them immediately, a language impossible to translate. 
She had always looked for clarity up here, where the world seemed more readable, further at a distance. Sometimes her powers were too close, like pressing your nose into a book, only the world in front of you visible, and whether the view from the cliff aided her in seeing a more full picture or not, it certainly made her feel better, and that, at least, was something. 
You could see the senshi from here, Rei thought, as the wind came up behind her, whirling her hair into long ribbons around her face. It was an odd thought, even as it sprung from her own mind, and yet she could not help but continue to see it. The dark blue and black of the oncoming night, the red and orange and purple and pink of the sun setting below the horizon, the green of the grass edging around the cliff, tiny light blue flowers clinging around it. 
The teal of the ocean below, together with the rest, an entire other world resting beneath its skin. 
She sat back from the edge, on a bench conveniently placed, roses climbing up through the wrought iron of it, looking as the sun set into the sea. 
“Life is a game of chess.” Rei said it boldly, sure of her own poetry and force. 
Michiru laughed her playful laugh, the one Rei only heard from time to time, the one that felt warm and real. “What lovely utter nonsense.” 
Rei scowled. “It’s like a battle, and you have to think and plan.” 
Michiru cocked her eyebrow. “Chess has rules, Rei, and the squares are laid for all to see. Should tragedy befall a knight, it is quite easily known how it happened,” she closed her eyes a moment as she sipped her wine across the table from Rei, “Life is not so explicable or so kind. The queen may despair when she is not carved of bone, and the other end of the table cares not for turns. ” 
Rei sat back against the chair, trying to come up with a response.  
“No one ever accused a pawn of treason, for it is never given the choice to retreat.” 
Rei watched as a rose petal drifted out toward the sea. She shouldn’t have lied. 
She should have told Michiru she didn’t know how to play chess. 
______
She’s back at the cliff again, but it’s night, and the only colors she can see are black and navy and deep purple and all those colors that make up one night. The wind is high tonight, and it howls and keens past her ears, bringing her hair around her neck, tight as a noose.
There’s someone at the cliff, but she can only see them in shadow, a barely-visible line around them from the dim sliver of the moon, its sharp edge digging into the figure at the throat. 
She tries to call out, but her words are swallowed by the dark, and the darkness fills her as she opens her mouth, and all the colors that still existed in this world fade into blackness, the only thing visible that thin shadow. 
The wind lies down, and they jump.
The eyes of the stars turn to her, and stare, stare, stare.  
______
Rei shut the door behind her, the echo of it closing too loud in the space, a contained explosion against the blank walls of the room. 
“We have to fix this.” She put her hands on her hips, annoyed, staring at Minako, who opened one eye to look at her before closing it again. 
“How’d you get past my defense squad?” She muttered. 
“Mina, this is serious, and--”
“So you decided you forgive Michiru for trying to kill Usagi?” She lay with her eyes closed, unimpressed. 
Rei seethed. No, was the answer, and yet she could not escape the image from the cliff, could not stop thinking about the way her hair felt at her neck. Could not stop thinking about chess. 
“She wasn’t trying to kill Usagi.” She was surprised to find that she believed it. That she was not angry at what Michiru had meant to do, but for the fact that Michiru was simply, as she herself would admit, incapable of not saving Haruka. 
She was surprised again to discover that somehow made her angrier, though at who she could not say. 
“Okay,” Mina winced as she sat up, “So you decided for forgive her for not doing her fucking job?” 
Rei scowled at Mina. “It’s not about the job!” 
Rei did not always mean to tell the truth, though she very often did. She felt it in her soul that she and Mina were angry about the same very different thing. Michiru had put Usagi in danger. Usagi was her friend. Usagi was Mina’s princess. Michiru had nearly caused Rei a world of pain. Michiru had failed to do what she was ordered. 
Mina looked at her, in that way that saw everything, that way that was too much like Michiru “So--”
“You’re not supposed to be in here!” Haruka burst through the door, hanging onto the doorframe, shirt rumpled and hair licked into mountains and waves by sleep. “She’s supposed to rest.” 
“You’re doing great, bud.” Mina rolled her eyes. 
Rei turned on her heel, not even paying attention to what Haruka had said, and stepped into her space, pointing at Haruka’s nose. 
“You need to go see Michiru.” She hissed and popped like a fire, a log about split with the heat. 
“No!” It burst out of Haruka like a toddler’s stomp. 
“Yes!” Rei leaned further into her, and Haruka took a step back, quite against her own will. “You’re going to go talk to Michiru, and--”
“Why should she?” Mina interjected, as they both turned to look at her. “What the fuck does she owe Michiru?’ 
Mina saw herself, the match in her hand. 
“I forgive her.” Rei looked at Haruka with a perfectly squared jaw, as if she dared Haruka to oppose her. “I forgive Michiru. And so does Usagi.” 
“Oh, bullshit.” Mina called across the room, even as she saw herself drop the match against the too flammable floor, even as she saw the smile creep across her face, “You don’t forgive jack, Rei, you know it and I know it.” 
Mina was surprised that so much later and after owing Michiru so much, she could still find the sharp edge of her own anger. Maybe it was that Michiru had put Usagi in danger, but maybe it was also that Michiru had saved Mina. That Mina owed her something, now. 
Rei looked over at her. 
“It’s not her fault.” 
Rei said it, though she was not sure if she meant it, and Mina knew it was true, though she was not sure what it changed. 
Rei dropped from Mina’s gaze. There was nothing but fire there, and Rei had no water to give her, and so she turned to Haruka, who needed the heat of it, who needed to melt the ice inside her and let it give way to the water that let things grow again. 
“You have to go see her,” She pointed in Haruka’s face, “You have to try. You have to make this better.”
“I--” 
“Usagi wants it, and you’re supposed to help her.” 
It felt wrong, using Usagi like this. But it was no lie--Usagi’’s most ardent wish was for Michiru to be forgiven, for the Senshi to come together again, stronger than before, for the family that bickered  and rolled their eyes but stuck together to be whole again. It was not using, she reasoned, and it was not a lie, because if Usagi could give a command, this is the command she would give. 
Haruka was backed against the wall in the most literal sense, not even quite understanding why someone so much smaller than her intimidated her so much. 
But it echoed in her head, and it echoed in her heart, and she heard Rei’s voice in a constant refrain, like the beat of a heart, like the ticking of a watch. 
You’re supposed to help her. 
You’re supposed to help her. 
You’re supposed to help her. 
______
The watch is broken. The watch is broken, and she should know how to fix it. 
It’s a watch but so much bigger than she is, she moved with it when the gears tick tick ticked into place, though how she knows that she doesn’t know. The watch is still and silent now, and she knows that’s wrong, that it should be moving.
There’s a panic that rises in her as she examines every unmoving gear. What will happen if they can’t keep time? It seems so wrong to think of, the watch keeps time, and they need the watch, and why can’t she fix it? Why can’t she do what she’s supposed to? 
Her tiny wrenches wrest against the gold and silver of the gears, but still they sit unmoving, and this watch is so complicated, the watch that sits on the wrist of the world, that watch that she stands on, on the wrist of the world, the one she’s meant to fix and can’t. 
Her frustration melts to terror now, knowing that the watch needs to move, feeling the eyes she can’t see on her, wanting her to fix it. She’s responsible, she’s the one who should be able to fix it, and she can hear the doubtful muttering lapping at the edges of the watch as she crawls desperately around it. 
She tucks her body in next to one of the quiet gears, and looks over. 
There’s a part missing.
______
“They are lovely.” Michiru looked over at the bouquet of roses and jasmine, set to the side of her bed in a cut crystal vase, and smiled. “Thank you.” 
Haruka stood awkwardly at the end of the bed that had been theirs, and was now simply Michiru’s, and yet she kept to her side of it, and the comforter was still the soft lilac one Haruka had liked, and by the other side of the bed there was still a tube of chapstick and a cartoon mug. 
Haruka shrugged. “Rei made me come see you.” 
“Ah.” Michiru’s face dropped. 
“No--” Haruka hated talking, sometimes. It was easy when all she had to do was be bold, be brave, but the smaller and more delicate emotions, and the words that came with them, often eluded and frustrated her. “I--I picked out the flowers. I wanted to. It’s just--”
“I remember you holding my hand, you know,” She looked at Haruka, an aching hope in her eyes, “and there must be something within you even still, that, that cares for me?” 
She did not mean it to come out a question, but her heart would not let it simply be fact, whatever her mind said. 
“I…” Haruka looked at her and there was such sadness, such longing in her eyes that Michiru felt every rough thing within herself might break. “Michiru, it’s really--”
Michiru shrugged, disappointed. “Let us dispense with the pleasantries, Haruka. You are angry with me. You clearly still care for me. Both of these things can be true, and clearly are, and I cannot tell you how to reconcile the two.” 
The delicate emotions dropped away like petals from a dying flower. “Why did you have to do that, Michiru?!” Her voice broke with the raw pain of it, the question she had asked herself over and over again, the one she had wanted to scream at Michiru as she knelt on the ground in front of Mina that day. “I--I can’t--” 
Michiru shook her head, her eyes hazy with the misty truth of her own nature. “I am weak. I cannot watch you die.” 
Haruka bit her lip and swallowed, her jaw hard and sharp as a cliff face. “I can’t be with you.” 
MIchiru took in a breath, and nodded, letting it out slowly. “That is your right, and I respect it. Understand it, even. However,” She paused, her own face resolutely pointed toward Haruka’s, demanding she make eye contact, “it does little to move me on my course of action. I said precisely what I intended. I cannot watch you die, and that will be true even if you spend the whole of your life hating me.” 
Harka turned away, wincing in pain, the agony of being unable even now to make things right, to do the right thing, to fix Michiru and make her loyal. She pulled back on her bangs, and whirled around, trying to keep her voice steady. 
“If I die, can you protect Usagi?” She wanted to add please, she wanted to add that she would be happy to die, she wanted to add anything that would make Michiru good. 
Michiru sat at the bed for a moment, her expression unnaturally puzzled by the question, her eyes drifting as if referencing an encyclopedia. 
She looked down into her lap. “I fear I would move from a soft sort of acquaintance to hatred.” Haruka gave a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a whimper, biting her lip. Michiru continued, annoyed, “Haruka, to be a Senshi is my cross to bear, and I am yours, and I suppose that is the heart of the matter.” 
“Michiru!” She stomped her foot, angry and hurt and desperate and lost. “I--you’re--I don’t want it!” 
“Well,” she snapped, “I am not entirely certain it is a cross if one enjoys it, Haruka. I most assuredly did not ask to be conscripted into someone else’s holy war.”
Haruka shook her head. “Don’t you want to do something good? We’re doing the right thing. We’re helping. We’re useful.” 
“I suppose that would be presuming that we believe the Moon Kingdom did not deserve to be lost in the first, and that it deserves another chance.” She said matter of factly, crossing her arms. 
“Do you not think--”
“I think it is very easy to be the hero of the story when you are the one doing the telling. I think entire planets do not rebel simply for a weekend activity. I think,” She paused for a moment, the pain a distraction from her irritation, and she continued softly, looking at Haruka, “I think not everyone longs so badly to have a reason to be.” 
“What the--” Haruka snorted and tossed her head back dramatically. 
“Haruka, are you happy?” 
It was so plainly said that for a moment, Haruka was not entirely certain it had been Michiru at all, but a call from the back of her own mind. 
“I--”
“Has this endless pursuit of heroism granted you any peace?” 
Haruka said nothing. 
“So I thought.” 
Haruka, sometimes, tried to identify exactly what it was she was feeling. She’d read somewhere that it could help, when you were dumb like she was, when everything just became anger, when she just exploded to make whatever it was stop. 
She didn’t know how people did it. There was never just one thing. She was sad, she was in love, she was hurt, she was confused, but these emotions all whispered, and her anger, it sang and screamed and yelled and--
“Fucking stop it, Michiru!” 
And it popped. 
“You’re always playing fucking mind games with me!” The tears receded as the rage within her smiled, showing a touch of fang. 
Michiru shook her head “I--”
“No! Don’t talk to me! Don’t--don’t tell me how I feel!” She thundered the side of her fist into the dresser. “I’m tired of it! I don’t want this! I don’t want you to--”
“Haru--” 
“I’M SAD!” She hated it as soon as it leapt out of her mouth, as soon as it escaped in the air, not to be recaptured, and she felt the anger within her frown deeply. 
Michiru looked at her softly. “I know. I--” 
Haruka turned, escaping from the room as the feeling had escaped from her heart, out the front door and down the street, past the subway, back toward Mina’s apartment, just running, running, running. 
__
Usagi looked far above her head, at the loose ribbons that dangled from the walls, drooping onto the floor sadly. She stood in her dress--no, not her dress, Serenity’s--alone in the large room, empty and quiet and too still and sad. 
“Hello?” she called out softly, hoping anyone could hear her. The room was made out for a party, cakes and wine and flowers all over the tables, and those sad, sad ribbons dangling. It was a party for one. Everything just for Usagi. 
Music played softly, echoing off the walls and filling the space with even more melancholy, reminding Usagi that there should be people here, there should be a party, there should be a reason to celebrate, but there was no one. Just all the food and decoration and music she could ever want, but no one to share it with. 
The crown felt heavy on her head. 
“Hello?” She called out again, her voice wobbling this time with the tears of her loneliness, the cakes and appetizer bites sitting untouched. Unwanted. 
Her words simply echoed off the walls. 
Usagi furrowed her brow, angry that she was alone, angry it had come to this. 
She tore Serenity’s dress off her body, scattering the scraps of insubstantial moonlight that wove it to the ground, and stood in her underwear, bright pink with little butterflies in foiled glitter. 
No one was coming because the party wasn’t ready. She had to fix it. 
She stood on a chair, and began to tie the ribbons together, the room beginning to light as the decorations rounded the room. 
__
“So then I yelled at her, but now…” Haruka sighed and held her head in her hands. “I don’t know.” 
“I’m not gonna tell you what to do, Bud. Your life is yours,” Mina shrugged and looked over at Usagi, who sat looking at Haruka, eyes wobbly and brimming with tears at the idea that Haruka and Michiru, the couple she had put the most faith in, could still be apart, could yell, could be angry, “Thanks for the cookies, Usagi, it was nice of you to--” 
Usagi grabbed her arm. “Haruka! Don’t you miss her?”
Usagi had a certain artless way of disarming Haruka, sometimes, the way she believed in not only Haruka’s goodness, which Haruka herself rarely believed in, but also in Haruka’s happiness. The way she considered what might bring Haruka joy, whether that compromised Usagi’s safety or not. 
“She did save me.” Mina added, a note of guilt and anger in her voice, “She nearly died doing it.” 
“She was really brave!” Usagi nodded, “She’s a great soldier, really, and--” 
Haruka gave a mirthless chuckle and shook her head. “I,” she sighed and shrugged, “ I can’t, Usagi.” 
“Haruka,” Usagi looked at her sadly, “If I ask you to do it as your princess, will you? Instead of your friend? No,” She shook her head and scowled, trying to steel her voice, “If I command you as your princess.” Her face softened again. “Will you then?” 
Haruka winced at Usagi calling her something so near, at the thought of Usagi commanding her to give in to the complicated love she felt, even when it put her in danger of Michiru’s twisted loyalties. 
Haruka looked over at Mina, hoping that she had the resolve, that she could help Haruka hold to her anger. 
“Mina?” 
But Mina took the match in her hand, and closed her palm around the flame. Let it burn her. Let her save the rest. 
She sighed. “Haruka, I--” the truth came up with the sour taste of vomit in her mouth, “We’ve all fucked up. She really fucked up,” There it was, ready to come out, the acid of honesty, “but I--”
“We all make mistakes!” Usagi rushed to complete her sentence, wanting the healing to come, wanting the happy ending. 
“But I’m punishing her because I don’t like her.” She whispered. 
“What?” Haruka looked at her. She had said it too softly for Haruka to hear, and Haruka turned her head, cocking her better ear toward Mina.. 
Mina sighed at having to repeat the hateful truth of her own perverse joy in finally having a reason. 
“But I’m punishing her because I don’t like her.” Mina did not look at Haruka when she said it. “She was wrong, and it WAS dereliction of duty and--” she shook her head, “and I never should have put her in that position.” 
Usagi looked at Mina with true sadness, and touched her on the thigh. “Michiru is a nice person, Mina, and I bet she would be your friend if you tried.” 
Mina snorted. “No. But, I’m not either.” 
“I think you’re nice, Mina! And you’re funny, and--” 
Mina raised her hand. “It’s okay, Usagi, I’m not hating on myself here.” Her eyes flicked to Haruka. “Michiru and I are just a little alike, sometimes.” 
Haruka stood up. “I don’t know.” She walked to the window and gave a stretch and a deep sigh. 
Usagi looked over at her. “Haruka? I just want you to be happy.”
 Haruka rested her head against the window. She wanted to do the right thing, she wanted to be a hero. If only she had died that day. If she could have sacrificed for Usagi. But she didn’t and so she gave the next best thing she knew to her life. Her love. 
“Haruka?” Usagi interrupted her thoughts. “I want you to tell Michiru how you feel.” 
“But I don’t know.”
Haruka did not dream that night, no answer coming to her in the dark. 
____
“I forgive you.” She wanted to offer it with the same sense of anger she had Haruka, but found she could not, that she could only offer softness, the flame that burned in her heart contained by the iron of Usagi’s capacity to forgive, making it just warm. 
Michiru looked at her as if expecting the scorpion to sting her, never imagining that the offer might be genuine. “What, pray, brought you to this moment?” 
Rei sat across from her at the small bistro set. ‘I’ve been with you since the forest.” 
“That is very true, but in no way, since the forest, have you found any cause to forgive me,” Michiru sipped at her tea, “You are here because Usagi wishes someone to be, and you still have some small affection for me left in the cobwebs.” 
“That’s not true” Rei scowled. 
But it isn’t a lie either, the flame whispered. 
Rei had seen Michiru dance at society parties, when she had shown up because her father was Senator Hino, because the food was free, because Usagi wanted to go and needed Rei’s invite. No matter the partner, it seemed, her feet moved with a quick grace around the floor, edging around her partner’s as if she were perfectly threading a needle. 
“Yes, of course, we all know you do things only of your own volition and never as an expression of Usagi’s influence.” 
She knew how to move around someone else at any moment, and she was doing it to Rei, now. 
Rei was tired of it. 
She slapped her hand against the table. “I forgive you because if I don’t, things are only going to get worse. Michiru.” She looked at her with a fierce stare, and noticed the surprise in the arch of Michiru’s eyebrow. “I’ve had dreams.” 
“Did you See it?” It came from her mouth like smoke from a snuffed candle. 
“I think so.” Only with Michiru could she offer this uncertainty, only Michiru would know that grand complication of where your thoughts ended and Seeing began. 
“And--” Rei stopped herself. 
“Yes?” Michiru looked at her, and Rei noticed just a tiny bit of sadness and fear in her eyes. 
This feeling had come over her slowly, incense filling the room, small at first, but eventually crowding it with the heaviness of amber and resin, choking her, until she had to throw open the door, to let out the perfume of her own truth. 
“And I’m tired of being mad at you. I’m tired of punishing you.” It sounded foreign to Rei, and Michiru seemed just as surprised.  “I don’t like it.” 
Michiru gave a cautious smile. “Next you will tell me Usagi has rather lost her interest in sweets.” 
Rei chuckled. “Too much of a good thing.” She looked off for a moment. “When there’s a fire, they tell you to go back to where it already burned. Fire can’t burn the same thing twice. It needs the fuel,” She considered carefully, the fire something she understood so much more than chess, “I think I’ve burned enough. I don’t think I have more to burn.” 
“That’s quite poetic,”Michiru looked at her with a mix of pride and sadness “I will spend the next years of my life attempting to prove myself to a group of people who will never trust me. Who are right not to, for rest assured, Rei, I am just as terrible as they say on this subject.” 
“Yeah well, Usagi cries in every battle so I guess we all have our faults.” She said it dryly, but as her mind waved over the Senshi, she realized it was true. They all had a flaw that could lose the day. The arrow had simply hit Michiru’s heel, instead of another’s. 
“That is rather generous.” 
Rei reached across, without thinking, and took her hand. 
“Michiru,” She looked directly into the sea of Michiru’s eyes, waving and moving and impossible to catch, to know, “let people forgive you.” 
Michiru said nothing, the air quite gone from her body in the moment. Rei, of all people, asking Michiru to be forgiven. Reality was strange and her dreams were strange and now the two seemed mixed. 
“Michiru?” Rei nodded at her, and the softness left, and all became a command again in Rei’s eyes, “I’m going to tell Haruka to come over and you should be ready because you’re going to solve this. Usagi and me will get everyone to fall in line.” Rei crossed her arms. “And that’s just the way it is.” 
Michiru looked out at the sunset. 
“We’ll see what the stars bring tonight, I suppose.” 
____
She followed the star through the night and the underworld, whatever those things were now. Definition had no meaning, things were whatever they twisted and molded themselves into. The sea was the rocks was the path was the shadow, and whatever it was, she swayed upon it, following that star, following that tiny point of light. 
Her body was disconnected from everything, and though she was alone, she felt no loneliness, only the assurance of the baby in the womb, that we may not not know where we are going, but we know we are going somewhere. 
There were sketches like pictographs in the sky. Or constellations. Wouldn’t that be more right? But the sky was a ceiling was a cave, and so pictograph became the correct word, and Haruka looked up at them, at her body lying on the ground, and then the stars that were paints that were a borealis shifted and painted again, and there would be Usagi, crying. And there would be Mina, looking off into the distance. 
And there would be Michiru, throwing down her transformation ring. Grinding it into the dirt. 
She followed the star, she followed the dot, she followed the light, and it grew larger and larger as she wore through the night, until it was the sun, rising on the horizon, and she felt the cool flow of air in her lungs, the shattering thud of her own heart beating, and the sun held her close in pinks and yellows as it whispered to her. 
“Your life has value beyond its ability to be lost.”
It was Michiru’s voice that was Mina’s that was her grandmother’s that was Usagi’s. 
_____
Haruka awoke with a start, sat on the edge of the bed, and wept.
“Ruka?” Mina spoke quietly from the other side of the bed. 
Haruka sniffled, trying to cover that she’d been crying, trying to cover that the gentleness in Mina’s voice was almost too much to bear, trying to hide everything she felt about Michiru and the pictographs in the sky and the watch and Usagi and her own soft center. 
Mina stirred and sat up, looking over to the wall. 
“Bud?” 
“Yeah?” 
“You should go.” She nodded to herself. “To Michiru. This is the right thing.” 
“Yeah.” She ruffled her hair. “Will you be okay?”
“I think we all will.”
Between sleep and waking, Mina looked at the smoke, at the dark burnt wood of the building, and picked up a hammer. 
___
“This has to be a dream.” Haruka sat down next to Michiru, not daring to look at her, not daring to breathe, because if she breathed in she might inhale Michiru’s perfume, might be taken by her again, might know again what it was like to be so near her, and be unable to resist. 
But she wasn’t supposed to resist, was she? Usagi, her princess, wanted them together. She wanted Michiru to be brought into the fold again, for their senshi family to made whole. That was what her princess asked for. 
“Dreams are sweeter and stranger, I believe, than this moment.” Michiru gave no indication of whether Usagi had sent her or not, but her face was so terribly resigned, so doubtful that this was going to end any different than every conversation they had tried since that day. 
“I’m sorry I yelled.” She pressed her thumb into the meat of her other hand, rubbing it, “I was upset.” 
“It was not my intention to play games with you,” Michiru sat with her arms crossed, “In fact, I felt as if I were being rather plain, however it might have felt to you. That you hate my honesty most of all does not mean I was being manipulative.” She looked over to Haruka. “And I can be manipulative, Haruka, deceptive, too, terribly so. But I was not, with you, on that day. I told you the truth, as much as I know it.” 
“I love you. I can’t stop.” It spilled out of her mouth like a toddler carrying milk, immediate and messy. 
You idiot, the rage and hate within her whispered, you are so stupid, to give a woman like her that kind of ammo. She’ll turn you into a traitor, too, she’ll never be like you--
“I will never be like you,” Michiru touched her hand gently, “I love you more than life, than anyone’s life.” 
Michiru was beautiful, Michiru was a marble statue in the garden of the world, Michiru was strong and resolute as the flowers around her bent and broke in the storm, but not Michiru, no, stone did not move, it did not change. 
But in dreams, anything can happen, and so Michiru began to cry. 
“And for that,” she sniffled, “I am sorry.” 
Those small feelings, the ones that whispered, drew together, and they fell upon her anger, and they drowned it in the pit of  her stomach, and they bloomed in the softness of its death and decay. 
She rested her forehead on Michiru’s shoulder, and there it was, the perfume she was afraid of, and Haruka joined her in her tears. 
“I don't know what to do.” She sounded like a child, even to her own ears. 
“Oh Haruka,” Michiru drew her arms around her and kissed the top of her head, ”I’m afraid I have no answers. I--I am rather at a loss, myself.” 
“I just,” she sniffled, “I want to--” 
“You want to be good, to be noble,” She rocked Haruka, “and with me, all at the same time. That’s difficult, isn’t it?” 
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She sat up and took Michiru’s hands. “Mina wants you to come back.”
Michiru laughed. “She most certainly does not.” 
“No, I think she does.” Haruka nodded. “She sent me.” 
Michiru looked surprised, but allowed herself a smile. 
Haruka returned it. “Let’s start again.” 
Michiru shook her head. “No. It would be foolish to take nothing from this.” she touched Haruka’s cheek lovingly. “Let us continue on.” 
They kissed under the rolling clouds, writing new futures into the sky. 
___
When the Senshi laughed together, it was like a chorus--tones all blending together in perfect concert, into one sustained note streaming across the grass of the park, a rare and spiritual music. 
The sun was warm but soft, painting golden rays across their skin, the leaves from the trees dappling them in happy dots. The smell of Mako’s well-packed bentos perfumed the air around their blankets, Mina popping an Onigiri in her mouth as she waggled her eyebrows at Rei, the end of some jokey come on that was not a joke at all dripping off her lips like the last drops of soy sauce. Rei scowled in that familiar way that almost felt a smile. Ami picked at the cold chicken, looking out over the park, her brow wrinkled in thought more exploratory than worrisome. Hotaru drew dark flecks of ink across the sketchpad, not minding that Michiru had taught her how, as Pluto pointed out everything there was to love of each line. Haruka half dozed happily in Michiru’s lap, Michiru gently stroking her hair as she rested quietly. 
Haruka blinked her eyes open and reached over to the last slice of strawberry cake. 
Usagi jumped up in front of everyone, bun in her hand, and pointed at Haruka playfully. ‘In the name of the Moon, I demand you leave that for your princess!” 
Michiru looked at her slyly. “Careful, Usagi. You’ve no idea what I might do in her interests.” 
The Senshi laughed in that joyful Hallelujah chorus with the smoothness of a healed scar, and Usagi smiled so brightly the sun itself seemed to dim. 
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