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nightingaletrash · 3 years

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An Evening Meal

Writing is pain but I damn well finished it 😤

It wasn’t often that Logan joined the others in the dining hall for meals. He knew that his presence was unwanted, that all but Page had demanded his death, and the pointed glares and scathing remarks were more than enough to put him off his food. So more often than not, he took his meals in his room and made an effort to stay out of the way of the rest of the council whenever possible. It just made life that little bit more tolerable for all of them.

Well, not quite everyone obviously.

On this particular evening, Lorna had insisted that Logan join the rest of them for dinner and she'd refused to take no for an answer. And when he’d arrived, having finally relented and agreed for her sake, it was clear that she’d had a word with the others.

He was keenly aware that Lorna’s friends and advisors were determinedly not looking at him and were taking great pains to avoid addressing or mentioning him. Instead they talked amongst themselves, discussing the day’s work or regaling one another with stories of their adventures as they indulged in a fine wine imported from Samarkand.

Judging by the flush of Sabine’s cheeks and the way he jumped up onto his chair with his staff raised aloft, the Dweller had gone a little beyond a small indulgence.

“And then, with thunderous cries that shook the heavens themselves, we brought down our axes on the troll’s monstrous head! Its mantle split, its blood spilt forth, and we Dwellers rid ourselves and our land of its insidious poisons!” he declared with a surprising boom. For such a small man, he had a very impressive set of lungs.

And a very impressive talent for embellishment, Logan thought to himself, considering that the victory hadn’t been the work of the Dwellers alone. But he said nothing and tried to focus on his food. He’d let the old man have his stories and glory. There was no need for him to bring any attention to himself.

“I remember that story a little differently,” Lorna chuckled, as if she’d read his mind. At least she kept her voice low and between herself and Logan. “I thought it was your hammer that split the troll’s head open, and that the Dwellers’ axes were busy with its nerve tendrils.”

Logan shrugged indifferently.

“I don’t see that it makes a difference. Sabine is welcome to tell his stories as he wishes.”

He was aware that her gaze lingered on him a moment before turning back to the conversation further down the table. The big Dweller - Boulder - was busy guiding the tipsy Sabine back into his seat just as Ben Finn leapt into his own tale.

“So one minute Private Jammy and I are walking our daring Rebel Princess through the use of the mortar. The next, a legion of Hollowmen are erupting from the ground, ready to charge the gates-!”

“Avo’s sake, Ben, give it a rest,” Page huffed. “No one cares whether you managed to kill three hollowmen with one shot or not.”

“But it really did happen!” he protested, his brows knitting together. Then he pointed an accusing finger at her and said, “you just don’t believe it because you didn’t even believe in hollowmen until you went to Reaver’s little Masquerade party, and now you don’t want to admit that I’m telling the truth!”

“I don’t believe it because you were probably too busy nattering at them to actually do any shooting.”

Logan observed the bickering pair briefly - he took faint amusement at the indignant look of offense on Ben’s face - then turned back to his sister, who was watching the small spectacle unfold with a small smile that was somewhat unreadable.

She’d aged since that day in the throne room. She’d lost some of the softness that rounded her cheeks, and while her eyes weren’t quite hardened, they’d lost their innocent glimmer. She’d also sprouted upwards a few inches, leaving her just shy of his own height. But what drew his attention were the scars on her face.

Suddenly, as if he was possessed by some old repressed childish instinct, he reached over and flicked her in the nose.

Lorna squeaked - actually squeaked - in surprise, swatted his hand away and stared at him like he’d just grown a second head.

Heads swivelled in their direction. Ben and Page’s spirited debate was abruptly cut off and Saker was halfway out of his seat before Lieutenant Attaway’s hand gripped his forearm and a pointed look sent him sinking back down apprehensively.

Logan felt his face heat up at the sudden scrutiny.

What in the Light’s name had possessed him to do that? He briefly entertained the notion of trying to will himself to fade from sight or to sink through his chair into the floor, but as ever, he remained in full view and firmly in his seat. So he tried to act as though he’d not just reached out and flicked his sister, the Queen, in the face like a child might.

Sabine and Kalin just watched with mild interest, and Walter stared for a moment, then chortled.

“No pestering each other at the table,” he said, as if they were still small children and in need of reminding, before he turned away. “I hear that Page’s people were able to track down your missing shipments, Kalin.”

“Hm? Oh yes. The young man, Kidd I believe? Was able to locate the thieves and reclaim them for us,” she replied, catching on quickly and inclining her head towards Page. “It would please me if he were to receive my most heartfelt thanks.”

Page affirmed that she’d pass on the message, and the conversation resumed, though Walter gave the siblings one last heartfelt grin before turning away and leaving them to their own discussion.

Logan made a note in the back of his mind to make up the last four years to Walter for his smooth redirection of the conversation before things got even more awkward.

“What was that for?” Lorna giggled, even though it was clear that she was utterly perplexed. “You haven’t flicked me since I was nine.”

Logan shrugged, still wishing he could vanish on the spot. Still no luck, and he wasn’t going to get away with such a plainly uncharacteristic act in the middle of dinner. So he vainly willed some of the pinkness from his cheeks and turned to his sister.

“There was something on your nose,” he said matter-of-factly. “You never did tell me where you got those scars.”

There were two. An arched cut over the bridge of her nose that hadn’t quite healed right, leaving a slight ridge of raised tissue along the bottom edge of the scar. The second was a perfect mirror of his own; a deep, thin line gouged through her lip as if drawn by a claw, though her’s was on the opposite side to his.

That was the scar that she self-consciously rubbed her thumb over.

“Well this one was a gift from Saker,” she said after a brief pause, tapping the side of her nose to indicate the arched mark. “He punched me in the face during our fight.”

“And the other?”

As expected, she hesitated to answer and her thumb traced over the mark once more, the side of her nail dragging through the narrow groove. He knew all too well where it had come from, but he needed to hear her say it before he could truly accept that she had encountered that thing too.

“Crawler,” she whispered. “It said something about ‘one to match the other.’ At the time, I thought it was talking about this one-" she tapped her nose again "-but I guess it was talking about you.”

The corner of his mouth itched, but he resisted the urge to rub it.

Every time he closed his eyes at night, he could taste blood in his mouth and hear the Crawler’s cackling as it dragged a wicked claw over his lips, marking him forever as one of its playthings. He’d wake up in a cold sweat and have to run his thumb over his mouth to ground himself, to reassure himself that he was not bleeding and that he was far from Crawler’s grasp… for the moment, at least.

He wondered, briefly, if Lorna had similar nightmares. The dark circles around her eyes were telling enough. It was little wonder that she applied makeup whenever she left the castle or attended court. Anything to keep her people from suspecting that their Queen was struggling with her burden.

"I suppose it must have been," was his reply. "Unless getting a scar from Saker of all people was somehow one of your worst memories."

The touch of sarcasm took the edge off of the conversation, and Lorna grinned in spite of herself.

"At least I didn't get one from falling down the stairs when I was six," she jabbed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Logan replied airily, though the corner of his lips twitched ever so slightly upwards. "Especially when one considers that you weren't even alive back then."

"Jasper would never lie about something like that," she shot back smugly. "He said that you were inconsolable for over an hour."

"Jasper was mad even back then."

"People don't go senile in their early fifties, Logan."

"I said 'mad' not 'senile'. Sane people don't look at an advertisement that insists that a butler must be prepared for daily occurrences of violence and decide 'ah yes, that sounds like the perfect job for me'."

That was a story that their mother had simply loved to tell. Apparently Jasper was the only applicant she had received after her first butler's prompt resignation, which had resulted from a sudden and unexpected bandit attack, and when he'd proven more than capable of running her household and dealing with intruders - where he'd learned to handle live explosives, he'd never say - she kept him on, and he'd served her and her family ever since.

Most butlers had better self-preservation instincts.

Lorna simply grinned though, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"Careful Logan. He can hear everything we say, remember?"

"Well of course I do," Logan said, rolling his eyes. "He was doing that long before he figured out how to work the Guild Seal."

"Right," she laughed. "Remember that time we planned to leave earwigs under the pillow of that diplomat from Samarkand?"

"I still have no idea how he found out about that," Logan chuckled, shaking his head.

"Because he hears all, sees all and knows all." She paused, then nodded her head with a faux look of grim determination. "When this is all over, I shall see to it that there is a temple dedicated to Jasper."

"He deserves it. He's put up with the two of us for all these years."

It would be upon later reflection that the ease of the back and forth would surprise Logan. He and his sister hadn't bantered so casually in years. Not since Aurora. He'd certainly not indulged in the nostalgia of his youthful antics like this, not when so much had been resting on his shoulders.

And yet, for just a while, it was as if nothing had changed. They continued to chat over their dinner, completely ignorant to the conversation and sideways glances from further down the table.

Maybe, he thought to himself after they had all dispersed for the evening, he would take his meals in the dining room more often.

#nightingale writes #fable 3 #logan #hobw #lorna #walter beck #sabine #kalin #ben finn #page #saker #lieutenant attaway #hehe sibling content

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rhosyn-du · 3 years

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Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Seven

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321 Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Seven

Jace knew they were in trouble as soon as he saw Maia’s face. The Cheshire Cat had nothing on her grin as she sauntered into Java Jones Monday afternoon, the last of their group to arrive.

She pulled a chair up between Jace and Simon, spun it around with a flourish to sit on it backwards, and flung an arm around both their shoulders. “So, is this the part where I say mazel tov?”

“I am going to literally murder my sister,” Simon announced.

Lily perked up. “Wait, what happened?” She looked between Simon and Jace, then fixed an intense gaze on Maia. “Did one of them finally break down and call you? Why didn’t you assholes mention anything? Who won the bet?”

“Oh, I got a call,” Maia said. “Not from either of these fools, though.”

Jace drained his coffee cup, wishing it were vodka instead. There was clearly no stopping this, so he might as well just face the music now.

“According to Becky, she and her grandmother caught these two in a storage closet about to get down and dirty, and Jace tried to cover up what they were doing by pretending he was down on his knees to propose.”

“Oh no,” Maureen said through a fit of giggles. “That’s terrible.”

Jace flipped her off, which only made her giggle harder.

“Don’t worry,” Maia said, patting Simon’s shoulder, “Becky said she’s like ninety percent sure your grandma didn’t know what was really up.”

“I can hide two bodies,” Simon told her. “I have a van.”

“And my sister is studying forensics,” Jace added. “I bet she’d tell me how to cover up a crime scene if I asked.”

“Every time you bring up your family, I just have more questions,” Lily said.

“Wait,” Maureen said suddenly, holding up her hands. Everyone looked at her. “If you guys are giving each other clandestine blowjobs, does this mean everyone in our friend group has slept together now?”

“Nope,” Bat said, and Jace shook his head.

“Wait, really?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised.

“We thought for sure you two were hooking up back when Simon and I were dating,” Maureen added, looking at Bat. “Jace was over at your place pretty much all the time.”

Jace stared intently into his empty coffee cup. He wasn’t about to tell them he’d spent so much time at Bat’s because he couldn’t quite stomach spending time in his apartment when Simon and Maureen were there, together.

“Jace was over at my place sulking because he got his ass dumped.” Which was the excuse Jace had given him. “He swore me to secrecy because he didn’t want you guys giving him shit for getting his heart broken.”

“You seem to be a little confused about the whole concept of secrecy, though,” Jace said.

“You could’ve told us,” Maureen said, earnest and sympathetic. “We wouldn’t tease you about something if you were really hurting.”

“Well, I’d tease you a little,” Lily said.

“You had your heart broken?” Simon’s voice was soft, and when Jace met his eyes, he found a confused curiosity there. Which of course there would be, Jace realized, given the conversation they’d had on the drive home, where he’d admitted that he hadn’t been serious about anyone since Clary.

“I wasn’t heartbroken,” Jace said, putting as much disdain as he could manage into the word. “Sasha just had some very strong opinions when I told her I didn’t want to get serious, and I kind of wanted to lay low for a while after.” The part about Sasha wasn’t even a lie.

“Oh,” Lily said, dragging the word out with relish. “You were embarrassed because she told you off in public.”

Bat looked skeptical. “You really expect me to believe you spent three weeks curled up on my couch eating Double Stuf Oreos because your ego was bruised?”

“Of course not.” Jace grinned at him. “That was because you’re a sucker who kept buying me Double Stuf Oreos.”

Maia smacked his arm hard enough to sting. “No taking advantage of Bat’s kind and generous spirit.”

Bat looked unconvinced. “Well, next time you decide to hide out at my place because you definitely didn’t get your heart broken, you’re on your own for Oreos.”

Simon was still watching him. “I would’ve shared my Oreos if I knew you needed them.” His tone was far too serious for a conversation about Oreos. Like maybe he knew Jace was hiding something. Like maybe he suspected what Jace was hiding.

Jace flashed him a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’m taking that as an invitation to steal your Oreos whenever I want from now on.”

“Dude, you can’t just steal Oreos!” Maureen protested. “That’s like rule number two of the roommate code.”

“What’s rule number one?” Bat asked.

“Booze,” Maureen and Lily answered in unison.

“And for everyone who keeps asking how we managed to share a dorm and not murder each other freshman year,” Lily continued, “this is the answer.”

“Truth,” Maureen agreed.

This sparked a lively debate about what did and did not constitute violations of roommate code that lasted until Jace had to leave for his evening class.

Two days later, a package of Double Stuf Oreos appeared on Jace’s desk. He didn’t bring them up, and neither did Simon.

~~~

Jace wasn’t sure exactly how they started studying together on the couch instead of their separate rooms. It might have been that one group study session where everyone else had to bail early. But somewhere along the line, he’d started dragging his textbooks and laptop out to the living room any time he needed to get work done. Half the time, he found Simon already there, and the times he didn’t, Simon usually joined him pretty soon after.

And it was…nice. Comfortable in a way Jace tried not to think about. Just another item on his ever-growing list of things not to think about. Conveniently, his assigned paper on the Thirty Years’ War didn’t leave room for thinking about much of anything else.

Which was probably why it took him so long to notice on this particular evening that he and Simon had somehow migrated from their usual spots at either end of the couch to sharing its center. And once he did notice, all thoughts of the Second Defenestration of Prague went out the window, the warmth of Simon’s leg against his own and occasional bump of their shoulders as they worked driving him to distraction.

It was stupid, really. It wasn’t like they never touched. In fact, Jace would bet they’d spent more of their time together over the past few months touching than not, in increasingly creative ways.

But they didn’t touch like this, without teasing or seduction or intent. It made Jace feel twitchy. Restless. There was a part of him that wanted to sink into it, to let the warmth of Simon’s touch seep under his skin. But a far greater part was telling him to pull away, to retreat back to his end of the couch. Or maybe to turn and press Simon back into the couch cushions and turn this into something far more familiar. Something safer.

“Hey,” Simon said, making Jace flinch in surprise. If Simon noticed, he didn’t let on. “I was gonna make stroganoff for dinner tonight, and I’m pretty ready for a break. Any chance I could talk you into slicing mushrooms for me while I start on the beef?”

It took Jace several seconds to process the question, so far from what he’d been thinking. “Um. Yeah. Sure, sounds good.”

Once they made their way to the kitchen, Jace was grateful to be back on familiar ground. They didn’t cook together often—didn’t have much time for cooking at all, really—but they’d done it a handful of times, and they worked well together in a kitchen, which was not something Jace could say about most of his friends, or his family.

It was also, he realized as he stood next to Simon at the stove, boiling egg noodles while Simon stirred the roux, acutely domestic. It was another addition to the list of things he wasn’t going to think about.

When they returned to the living room, bowls of saucy noodles and beef in hand, Simon sat right back down in the middle of the couch, where he’d been before they got up to make dinner. Jace hesitated only an instant before reclaiming his spot next to him. Simon flashed him a quick smile before pulling his financial analytics textbook over to balance precariously on his knee so he could read while he ate. Jace tore his gaze away, turning his attention half-heartedly back to his notes.

By the time he finished eating, Jace had realized two very important things. First, he needed to make another trip to the library if he wanted to have enough sources to back up his thesis. Second, it would be far too easy to get used to nights like tonight, and that wasn’t something he could allow himself to do. Before he could make himself do something about it, though, Simon shifted, half-turning to pull his knees up onto the couch and letting his head rest back against Jace’s shoulder.

“This okay? The light’s better like this.”

Jace took maybe a second too long to answer. “It’s fine.”

He placed his empty bowl on the coffee table—gingerly, so as not to jostle Simon—and returned to his reading. When he shifted a few minutes later, tossing one arm over the back of the couch and letting Simon rest against his chest, it was just a matter of comfort, really. Letting his hand come to rest on Simon’s chest, fingers absently toying with the neckline of his shirt, was not, but Simon didn’t object.

When his fingers encountered skin-warm metal, it took Jace several seconds to realize it. By the time he did, his fingers had already followed the line of the chain down to the center of Simon’s chest, where the object that hung from it rested beneath his t-shirt. He recognized its shape at the same time he felt Simon go unnaturally still.

“I didn’t want to lose it,” Simon said in a rush.

Jace traced the shape of the ring through Simon’s shirt. His ring. “It’s a good place to keep it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, flattening his hand against Simon’s chest. The ring pressed into his palm, the telltale beat of Simon’s heart thrumming behind it. He wondered if his own were beating just as fast.

“You know,” he said slowly, “Alec is getting married next month.”

Simon relaxed against him with a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that in the approximately five hundred phone calls you’ve had in the last couple weeks.”

“A best man’s work is never done, apparently.” He took a breath, let it out. “But, I was thinking, you should come with me.”

Simon craned his neck to look at him. “Like, to play your boyfriend again, or…?”

As my date. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. He wasn’t ready to risk that he might be reading this wrong. He’d done it before, and for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on, it felt so much more dangerous now.

“I mean, it would be weird if you didn’t, right?” he said instead. “Since my entire family thinks we’re together still.”

“Right.” Simon looked back at the book in his lap, but he didn’t make any move to pull away. Jace could almost imagine he sounded disappointed. “Totally weird. I think Clary’s expecting me to be there, anyway.”

“Cool. I’ll RSVP you as my plus-one.”

Simon made a soft noise of affirmation and returned to his reading. Jace tried to go back to his, but he found himself unable to concentrate. After reading the same paragraph five times and not retaining a single word of it, he gave up and let his head loll against the back of the couch, cheek resting lightly against the top of Simon’s head. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

Jace was pulled out of sleep sometime later by gentle fingers stroking through his hair. He scrunched up his face and made an unhappy noise; he wasn’t ready to be awake.

“If you’re going to sleep, you should go to bed.”

Jace cracked an eye open to find Simon watching him with a fond smile. Still half-asleep, it was easy to smile back, something warm and soft settling in his chest. Sometime while he slept, they’d shifted again so Simon was leaning back against the arm of the couch with Jace sprawled half on top of him. Simon’s books were stacked neatly on the coffee table. Jace wondered how long they’d been there.

“‘M comfy.”

Simon chuckled. “You won’t be if you stay here all night and wake up with a sore back.”

Jace thought that spending the night with Simon as his pillow might be worth waking up with a sore back, but the fog of sleep had lifted enough that the feeling of impending danger was returning. He pushed himself up to sitting and immediately missed Simon’s warmth.

“I think I’m a couple decades away from waking up with a sore back from one night spent on the couch.”

He reached for his dirty bowl, still sitting on the table, but Simon stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Leave it. You’re tired; I’ve got the dishes.”

Jace frowned at him.

“Go to bed,” Simon insisted with a laugh. “You’re obviously exhausted.”

It was the laugh that got him. The way Simon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. The way he always smiled wide enough to show teeth. The way it never failed to tug at something inside Jace, urging him to smile back no matter how much he might resist it. Except this time it was less of a tug than a wrench that threatened to break him wide open.

Jace remembered, with sudden, vivid clarity, that drunken conversation he’d had with Maia last year. The one he tried to forget ever happened.

They’d all be hanging out at Maia’s new apartment, a tiny studio that wasn’t really big enough to host a six-person housewarming party, but they’d made it work because she was so proud of finally making good enough tips she could afford to live in her own place off campus.

Everyone but Jace had early morning classes that semester, so he’d stayed behind to keep the party going with Maia while the others had headed home. Jace didn’t remember how many shots it had taken for him to start complaining about Simon’s propensity for wandering around the apartment in only a towel, but he absolutely remembered Maia’s knowing grin.

“Someone’s got a crush.”

“It’s not a crush,” Jace had insisted. “He’s just annoyingly hot.” If he’d been sober, he wouldn’t have spoken the next words. He wouldn’t have even let himself think them. “And I bet he’d be stupidly easy to fall in love with, too.”

And then Maia had laughed so hard she’d fallen over onto her cheap, beige carpet that still smelled faintly of new plastic while Jace was left to deal with the slowly dawning realization of what he’d just said.

“Before you fall asleep again,” Simon prompted, snapping Jace’s mind back to the present. Where Simon was smiling at him with an indisputable fondness that made Jace feel raw and exposed.

“Right,” Jace said, practically jumping up from the couch. “Bed. Thanks. For,” he waved his hand vaguely, “dishes and whatever.”

“No problem,” Simon said, bemused. “Sleep well.”

Jace understood what that feeling of danger was about now. It seemed there was some truth to that old adage about finding answers at the bottom of a bottle; it had been so easy, he wasn’t even sure when he’d fallen in love.

~~~

“You’re sure this is a classic?” Jace eyed the grainy opening shots of the movie playing on Simon’s laptop with some skepticism.

They normally did movie night out in the living room, on the flat-screen TV that had probably cost more than every other piece of furniture in their apartment combined, but Simon insisted a film this old would look ridiculous on a large HD screen. Considering how bad it looked even on Simon’s old laptop, it was probably the right call. And Jace wasn’t going to complain about having to squish together on Simon’s bed so they could both see the screen, even if that did make it feel perilously close to being a date.

“Cult classic,” Simon corrected. “Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama is, like, peak so-bad-it’s-good 80’s horror comedy. And they’re making a sequel with the original cast, so you have to watch the original.”

Jace grabbed a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in Simon’s lap. “You mean so you can drag me to the sequel when it comes out?”

“Exactly.” Simon grinned at him. “Thanks for offering to see it with me.”

“That’s not what just happened,” Jace said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Agree to disagree.”

The movie turned out to be surprisingly entertaining, film quality and 80’s aesthetics notwithstanding. And the atrocious special effects. And, well, the entire plot, really.

“Do you think sororities were really like that back in the 80’s?” Simon wondered as the titular sorority babes outlined the hazing their pledges would undergo.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if some of them still are,” Jace said. “But Greek life isn’t really my thing, even if I have seen the inside of a few sorority houses in my time.”

“Was that supposed to be a flex?”

Jace ignored that comment and pulled out his phone. “Alec might know, though.”

Simon leaned in to watch Jace type, resting his chin on Jace’s shoulder. “I know I’ve only met your brother once, but I’m having trouble picturing him anywhere near a sorority.”

“Alec was in a fraternity in college,” Jace explained.

“Yeah, no, still not seeing it.” Even after Jace sent the text, he didn’t move away.

Alec’s response came only moments later.

why would I know that Phi Beta Kappa is an academic fraternity and sorority girls are well outside my areas of interest

“Okay, that makes sense.” Simon slid the bowl of popcorn off his lap so he could lean more fully into Jace’s side.

maybe ask Iz

Jace snorted and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He reached for the popcorn and gave an irritated huff when he found it just out of reach.

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Simon grabbed the bowl and moved it to Jace’s other side. On impulse, Jace caught his hand and laced their fingers together. They hadn’t talked about that night on the couch—not about the casual intimacy or Simon wearing Jace’s ring around his neck or Jace falling asleep on Simon or any of it—but there was no question things were different between them since. Or maybe it was just Jace that was different, knowing how deep he was in this just making him more reckless with his heart.

Simon’s fingers curled around his, his arm coming to rest draped over Jace’s hip as he let out a small, contented sigh.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just Jace. But Jace wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He could probably have written an entire treatise on navigating hookups, but he had no idea how to navigate…whatever this was. The only experience he had with actual romantic relationships was with Clary, and despite how fucked up they’d both been back then—or maybe even because they’d both been so fucked up—there had never been any ambiguity about how they felt, no questions about what they were to each other. No wondering if she knew she could do so much better than him.

It was different with Simon. Simon, who never seemed fazed by the shit life threw at him. Simon, who actually dated, and always seemed to leave a breakup on good terms. Simon, who held him like he was afraid Jace might break, who fucked him like he wanted him to break.

Simon, who had to know he could do better than Jace.

“Let me guess,” Jace said as the two characters he’d mentally tagged as the protagonists ducked into a closet to escape a demonic minion, “the nerd and the hot bad girl are the only survivors, and they get together at the end.”

Simon gave him an unimpressed look. “You don’t get any points for guessing that. This is a comedy made in the 80’s that leans heavily into the tropes of the era.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why I guessed it. I just figured you’d be into the whole ‘nerd gets the bad girl’ thing.”

“That’s not why I like this movie,” Simon said. “But Spider might have been part of why 12-year-old me liked this movie,” he admitted.

“Thought so,” Jace said smugly.

“You’re the worst.” Simon’s arm tightened around Jace’s waist, belying his words. “I’m seriously questioning why I even like you right now.”

“Because I’m charming, witty, and great in bed.”

The smile Simon flashed him probably shouldn’t have made Jace’s stomach do a pleasant little flip, but it did. “Those are some pretty great selling points.”

“Watch your dumb movie,” Jace said, trying and failing to hide his own smile.

When Jace’s phone buzzed several minutes later during a particularly tense scene, they both jumped. Jace pulled it out to check his new messages, then chuckled and turned the screen so Simon could read Alec’s message.

Magnus says there was at least one sorority exactly like that five years ago also I’m now being subjected to this atrocious movie, so thanks for that

“I knew Magnus would have good taste in movies,” Simon commented.

“I’m disturbed you can even talk about this movie and good taste in the same sentence.”

“Oh, come on,” Simon said reproachfully. “Didn’t you once tell me that any movie with boobs and explosions was a good movie?”

“Yeah, but this movie doesn’t have any—” On screen, the nerd threw a Molotov cocktail at a possessed sorority babe. Jace sighed. “Objection withdrawn.”

Simon flashed him a smug grin. “Admit it, I’ve got fantastic taste.”

Jace smirked. “I do like the way you taste.”

“Not what I—” He cut off as Jace illustrated his point by licking a line up Simon’s throat.

Simon let out a hiss. “You’re going to miss the end of the movie.” He didn’t pull away.

“Told you,” Jace murmured, scraping teeth along his jaw, “I already know the nerd and biker girl are going to survive. I don’t need to see the end.”

Simon turned his head to catch Jace’s lips with his own in a surprisingly gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup Jace’s cheek. They stayed like that for what felt to Jace like hours but couldn’t actually have been more than a minute or two judging by the tinny screams coming from the laptop speakers.

“What do you need?” Simon whispered when he finally broke the kiss. His tone was teasing, but the way his thumb caressed Jace’s cheekbone was all sincerity.

“Just this,” Jace whispered back, and it was the truest thing he’d ever said.

Then they were kissing again, slow and soft, and Jace thought he might drown in it, thought he might want to drown in it. He kissed Simon like he’d been wanting to for weeks, for months. Maybe longer. He put everything he felt into the kiss—his hope and his love and his fear—and prayed that Simon would understand, that he wouldn’t pull away.

He didn’t.

They kissed until they were breathless with it, until the last strains of the movie’s closing credits had long since faded away, until there was no room for anything in Jace’s thoughts and heart and dreams but Simon. He knew he was grinning like an idiot when they finally broke apart, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially not with Simon grinning back at him.

“See?” Jace combed a hand through Simon’s curls. He couldn’t stop touching. “Way better than that movie.”

“You don’t know that,” Simon protested. “You didn’t even watch the end. It could have been twenty straight minutes of boobs and explosions, and you’d never even know.”

“Weirdly, I think I might like kissing you even more than I like boobs and explosions.”

“Wow, high praise.” Simon was still teasing, and Jace suddenly needed him to understand how much he wasn’t really joking.

“No, seriously.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Simon’s neck, drew him close enough to feel his breath. “I—” Words he meant far too much—that would be too much—stuck behind his teeth. “I’m not really here for the movie,” he said instead. “No matter how many boobs or explosions it has. You get that, right?”

“I—yeah.”

There was something subdued and almost vulnerable in Simon’s voice, something that didn’t quite track with the conversation they were having, but before Jace could even catch the thread of it, he was being pushed back into the bed and kissed breathless once again. By the time Simon was tugging his shirt over his head, brushing calloused fingertips over a peaked nipple and making him gasp, Jace thought he must have imagined it.

Simon took him apart slowly, deliberately, maintaining a calm focus even when Jace teased, never altering his pace even when Jace begged. And Jace did beg, edging on desperation before they even got all their clothes off. By the time Simon had him spread out on the bed, opening him up with slick fingers and teasing his dick with strokes far too light to even approach enough, Jace wasn’t sure he was capable of anything but begging.

“Simon, please.” He scrabbled ineffectually at Simon’s shoulders, trying ineffectually to drag him close. The angle was bad for it, but Simon was also strong, something that was easy to forget until they were like this. It was also seriously fucking hot. “Please. Fuck. Need you in me already, please.”

“You’re so beautiful.” There was an edge to Simon’s voice, but Jace still thought he sounded far too composed for what they were doing, for what he was doing to Jace. “God, do you even know?”

Jace couldn’t even begin to answer, because Simon chose that moment to press his fingers very deliberately against Jace’s prostate, and the only words Jace was capable of anymore were garbled curses and Simon’s name.

“You have to know.” Simon withdrew his fingers and all Jace could do was whine in protest. “I bet people tell you all the time.”

Jace shook his head, not sure if he was disagreeing or just objecting to the sudden tragic lack of Simon’s hands on him and in him. Simon pressed a soothing kiss to his knee before pulling away to roll a condom onto his own dick, which took way too long in Jace’s opinion, but it was enough time for Jace to find his voice again.

“Please, Simon.” His voice was half a sob, and he didn’t even care. “Need you.”

“You’ve got me,” Simon breathed, the faintest tremor in his voice as leaned in to line his cock up with Jace’s hole and brushed the lightest of kisses against his lips.

“Yes,” Jace whispered. “Yes, please.”

And then Simon was finally, finally pushing inside, and Jace was rocking down against him, desperate and greedy for everything Simon was willing to give him. It took exactly two thrusts for Simon’s composure to crack completely, and Jace swallowed down his moans as greedily as he took everything else, licking into Simon’s mouth to chase every sound.

Jace would have been embarrassed by how quickly he came after that, lasting maybe a full ten seconds after Simon wrapped a hand around his dick, except that Simon was right there with him, following him over the edge with a barely audible, “Fuck, fuck, Jace, oh god.”

After, they lay next to each other on the bed, catching their breaths. This would normally be when one of them left to go back to their own room, or went to take a shower, or make food, or anything, really, to keep this thing between them from seeming like more than it was. Except it was more for Jace. Maybe for both of them.

“You’ve got me.”

Jace wasn’t sure if Simon had meant the words the way Jace wanted him to, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the possibility that he did. Trying not to overthink it, he curled into Simon’s side, resting a hand on his chest.

For a few seconds, Simon went absolutely still, and Jace thought for sure he’d fucked everything up. But just as cold dread was beginning to claw its way up his throat, Simon let out a shaky breath and cuddled closer, pulling the blanket up to cover them both and covering Jace’s hand with his own. Jace smiled into Simon’s shoulder.

“You’ve got me.”

He would hold onto that for as long as Simon let him.

#shadowhunters #shmb2021 #jimon #jimon fic #jace wayland #simon lewis #pun absolutely intended #i regret nothing

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herpronuonsarefemslash · 3 years

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Wildfire Kiss - TEASER

An ABO yarn set in the A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones Universe with a different set of problems, more sexy ladies, and less nastiness! The first two chapters are free to the public and the third is currently patron-exclusive. 1 - https://www.patreon.com/posts/54070866 2 - https://www.patreon.com/posts/54071156 3 - https://www.patreon.com/posts/54071246

===== “Jeoffrey, grandmother? You musn't be serious!”

“Afraid so. Arya Stark went to the youngest Martell girl. Good match. Pair of poisoned knives. Fit right in down there. Robb Stark went to Cersei’s youngest cousin, curiously enough. Catelyn must be placing a bet against Tywin’s age and Cersei’s influence over the King. Asha Greyjoy isn’t on offer. More the sort to ride in with a net and take her pick, of course. You are to wed Joffrey, Barring any tragedies. Highgarden is so rarely a tragic place, wouldn’t you say?”

In other words, she can’t have Joffrey killed before I would be riding away with him.

“Mother have mercy. What of the Stark bastard?”

“You’ll do no such thing, girl. Panic is no excuse to shame yourself like that.”

“What of the elder Stark girl? What about Sansa?” Margaery presses, hoping the flush on her neck isn’t too profound. Sansa acts meek as a lamb but simpler, thicker northern garb reveals more of the frame, even as it reveals less skin. She’s built long and lean and powerfully as her direwolf. Eyes just as icy-blue and unnerving.

“Sansa is unclaimed.”

“Barring any tragedies, that is.”

Olenna lifts a slice of glazed partridge to her lips.

“Exactly. Tragedies or accidents,” she adds.

Accidents like a drunken Stark knotting me, ruining me before the ceremony.

=====

“I’ll see her to the privy,” Margaery tells the men. “Wait for us at the door there.”

Sansa doubts that a lacquered oak door leads to a privy but she lets Margaery drag her on all the same. The omega throws it open to reveal a servant’s quarters with a pair of sleeping bodies on the simple bed.

“Out," she snaps. "Both of you. Take the window and the ledge.”

Two maids scramble to obey, abandoning each other's arms and stuffing themselves back into their clothes.

Margaery sighs.

“They’ll report to grandmother.”

“Not to Lord Tryell?”

She chuckles.

“You’ve heard my father sing. Does that give you the impression he’s the cleverness behind the Tyrell fortune?”

Margaery's deft fingers pluck at the ribbon holding her dress shut and her breasts spill out. Milky and round and shot with delicate veins. Hard as good cheese and hot in her hand when the omega grabs it and wraps it around her breast.

She fairly rips the shift off and shoves it off her hips where it pools on the rug. Bare and fragrant and dripping down her thighs, the Rose of Highgarden is something to behold. She slithers out of Sansa’s grip and lays on the bed, presenting her dripping cunt to Sansa’s eyes.

“Gods, Sansa! We don’t have all night! Mount me, ruin me, and bite me. Grandmother will see to it I’m married by sundown tomorrow.”

Sansa climbs onto the bed and holds herself over Margaery's trembling frame. She looks so small now and Sansa hates every drop of Northern blood. She’s too tall, too broad in the shoulder, and too lean for a proper lady. There's wildness in the Starks, some even say there's direwolf in them. They say the sigil is a memory, not a legend.

A dish so sweet is to be enjoyed properly, she decides. Melted on the tongue and swallowed slow.

She pinches the candle on the bedside and wraps the still-searing tip in the bedsheet so it doesn’t burn.

Leaning close to Margaery's ear, she noses at her pulse and lines up her impromptu weapon. It goes in easy enough and three hard jabs suffice to snap the maidenhead.

Sansa presses her teeth to the juncture of jaw and throat and Margaery's breath leaves her in a hiss as she melts into the sheets.

“Please,” she whines.

Sansa bites. Warm blood graces her tongue and she thinks of fresh plucked berries and humid gardens after summer storms and the sweet music of birds in spring.

“You’re mine now, wild rose.”

======

The husbands and promised alphas in attendance demand Sansa involve herself in some foolish drinking game. Some of these are the Lords whose banners House Stark holds--who she might go to war with--so her wife has little choice.

"Whisky!" one of them shouts, grabbing at a slim beta who dodges his hand with easy grace and spills nary a drop of the jug she carries. She looks familiar to Margaery. Isn't that the one who haunts the halls near the Master of Arm's quarters every night? Seems he's taught her more than how to lie back.

Sansa slams her gloved hand into the table, flashing her teeth with a curl of her lips.

"Mead!"

A silky-looking Dornishman with a braided beard takes up Sansa's side of the debate, followed by some lad from a forgettable house in the Stormlands.

A soldier's drink, and a signal to the Northmen here, Margaery supposes. Also a far weaker spirit.

The second thought brings a fresh trickle from her sex, thinking that Sansa's ensuring that she can both carouse and perform in the same night.

Highgarden's bounty does not fail; someone produces a sturdy cask of the stuff and taps it. They bet and swap tales and the man--or woman--with the worst tale drinks. Sansa is no bard, it seems, losing three of five but even her worst stories amuse.

#Game of Thrones #ABO #sansa stark #margaery tyrell #sansa x margaery

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mulletcal · 4 years

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scrabble - ashton irwin blurb.

a/n: would you believe me if i told you i fucked up 4 different times trying to post this. WELL, anyways, here’s a pt 2 to this post and i still mildly blame @sexgodashton for it.

word count: ~2.2k (oops)

warnings: none

-----

Since that day where Ashton had realized that his Words with Friends stranger was also his neighbour, his mood surrounding this lockdown brightened significantly. His niece was good at keeping his spirits up, but it was nice to have someone around that he could talk to as a fellow adult.

More often than not, you would show up with a baked good that you had googled how to make, dropping it off at Ashton’s doorstep before waiting at the end of the driveway to make sure either him or his niece picked it up. Ashton would return the favour in his own small ways, letting you know what they were cooking that night, asking if he should make extras. You both had taken to putting lawn chairs at the end of your driveways, maintaining the appropriate distance, but balancing your plates on your laps as you all enjoyed a meal together.

Getting to know Ashton, it grew increasingly difficult to push down your feelings for him. He was intelligent, handsome, goofy, and he clearly cared for his niece, which also warmed your heart. Even though anytime Ashton would say something, she’d give him a certain look that had him turning as red as a tomato; which didn’t help you find him any less endearing.

Your Words with Friends games continued, you kicking his ass each and every time - well, except for the one time you let him win, even if he vehemently denies that. You had suggested that when the lockdown was lifted, he should come over some time and play a game of Scrabble with you, to see if somehow being in person made it any different. It could be to his benefit, of course, because being that close to those hazel eyes would distract you.

On Ashton’s end, the feelings were very much the same. He couldn’t stop thinking of you, and how he wished to be closer. Ashton had never started a friendship, let alone a relationship where he wasn’t able to touch the person he was talking to - whether it be a handshake or a hug. The most he could do was crack jokes from more than 6 feet away, grinning as you rolled your eyes at another stupid pun.

Ashton realized he had run out of fresh produce once again, but this time before placing his order he sent you a message to ask if you needed anything. If only you could write back asking if he was something that was available - but you had nowhere near enough confidence for that, so you just replied that you didn’t, but thanking him. Ashton wanted to use it as an excuse to see you more than just around dinner, but he could never let you know that.

A few weeks later, you heard on the news that the lockdown - as long as everything continued on the decline it had been on - would end next week, with some limitations so people aren’t going too wild too soon; but this meant something huge: you could actually be closer to Ashton.

Figuring a call would be more satisfying than a text, you pressed ‘Call’, vaguely thinking about when you both first exchanged numbers in the first place. He had forgotten to look at the app all day, busy with Instagram Live interviews, but he felt so guilty and insisted you exchange numbers so you could keep the casual conversation going.

“You there?” Ashton asked, bringing you out of your memory.

“Shit, sorry! Was just calling to tell you that it looks like our Scrabble game is gonna be happening sooner rather than later,” You speak with a grin that’s probably evident in your tone of voice on the other line.

“Wait really? I haven’t checked the news at all today. I’m assuming none of the guys have either, we have a music video going up in about ten minutes.”

Oh, right. You had forgotten he was in a band, his constant drum playing wasn’t just to make noise - he actually did it for a living. “Which music video is it again?” You ask, trying to think of the title before he could speak.

“Wildflower. You gonna watch it?”

“Yeah, of course! I need to support the boomer uncle in the band,” You could hear him scoff on the other end, causing you to let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I see how it is. Just cause I play the internet’s version of Scrabble makes me a boomer. Puts you right there with me, though,” He stated, and it wasn’t a lie, but you enjoyed making fun of his age anyways. “I’ll see you later though, the guys wanna have a group FaceTime to watch the video together. Makin’ pasta tonight, want some?”

“Not tonight, I’m all pasta’d out. But I’ll meet you guys there, just text me when you start dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Bye!” You could hear an enthusiastic ‘bye’ in the background that made you smile, setting down your phone and looking up ‘Wildflower’ so you could be apart of the video’s premier.

You were most definitely not expecting what you saw while the video played - Ashton had told you, from what you remembered anyways, that they had filmed all their parts separately in front of a green screen in their house. You didn’t know that you would get so much of Ashton’s personality through the video though, and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your lips the entire time.

Once the video ended, you picked up your phone to send him a quick text message to say you enjoyed the video, and it didn’t take long for him to reply with his gratitude towards you.

Dinner that night had a different air to it, you couldn’t tell if you were all just excited to not be stuck in the house anymore, or sad - or, in your case, if you were flustered because Ashton was wearing the same shirt he had chosen to wear in the video.

This week was going to go by incredibly slow.

As you predicted, the days leading up to the lockdown being lifted dragged on - every hour feeling like another day, but you were aware that it was mostly due to freedom, or your feeling of freedom, was so close.

Ashton knew that the guys would all want to see each other right away, and he had agreed on that front - FaceTime calls just weren’t doing it for him anymore. He was so close to being able to hang out in Calum’s backyard again, laying in the sun and making jokes with his best friend. All of them had agreed on one thing though - rather than all get together on their first day out where none of them really had much in their house; the first day would be spent gathering supplies for a “family dinner” on the second day.

This also meant that his first night was free. Ashton knew he didn’t need to worry about his niece, especially since it was only right next door, and he would have the security system in place to be alerted of any suspicious activities. He had to see you and deliver on the promised Scrabble game; and he needed to test the waters to see how you felt towards him as well.

When the fateful day came, Ashton was practically buzzing with excitement. He headed to the grocery store, wanting to pick up essentials for the dish he would bring to Michael’s, but also he wanted to attempt to recreate the cookies you made for him as a welcoming gift - though he was sure his baking skills couldn’t hold a candle to yours.

Having gathered all the ingredients, he headed back home to try and bake. Ashton was excited when you texted him, asking if you guys were still on for tonight.

[2:04 pm]: You bet your gluteus on it.

He could tell you were laughing on the other end, due to the amount of times the three dots had appeared and disappeared, when his phone finally vibrated in response.

[2:05 pm]: Stop trying to make gluteus happen, it’s not going to happen. Also that’s only roughly 8 points, so nice try.

Ashton couldn’t contain his fit of giggles - his excitement bubbling out of him again, grinning at his niece who walked into the kitchen.

“Someone’s excited to see his crush today,” She mused, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Not a crush, just excited to be within six feet of someone who I’m not related to,” Ashton retorted, both of them sticking their tongue out at the other.

“Tell me why I see ingredients to make those cookies, then?”

“Can’t a man just buy apples and cinnamon, and all the other ingredients to make cookies without being judged?” Ashton pouted in a feudal attempt to win this debate, but he knew it was pointless to argue with a 14-year-old. “Wanna help? I’ll let you eat some cookie dough.”

Very quickly she agreed, and they set about making the cookies for you.

While on your end, you were doing something similar for him; you had gone out to buy ingredients to make a cake, that you were going to decorate to say “Happy End of Lockdown”. You weren’t sure if you were taking it too far, but you were genuinely excited to see his reaction when he read it.

You had just finished the final touches on the cake when the doorbell rang. Furrowing your brows, you glanced at the time, realizing much more time had passed than you had thought. Suddenly you were nervous again, not having time to fix your appearance, or fix up around your house for that matter. Your phone on the kitchen island buzzed, and you quickly picked it up to make sure it wasn’t anything super important - only to find a text from Ashton.

[7:56 pm]: Can you hurry up? We’re free, and I promise I won’t spit on you.

If it were any other person in your life, you would have replied with something along the lines of, “Too bad, I’m kinda into that.” But you couldn’t be that way with Ashton - you felt as though you needed to restrict that part, or risk losing Ashton in your life all together because you weirded him out.

Tugging the door open, you mustered up the best grin you could at the man who now stood before you, “Hey stranger,” you spoke, stepping aside so he could come in.

“Hey yourself. Even though you left me out in the dust, I brought these cookies for you, in hopes you won’t do it again.” Ashton offered up the plate of cookies, and you recognized the scent that had wafted from them almost immediately.

“You made those cookies?” You asked softly, your heart completely melting at the sentiment. Glancing up at him, you noticed he was watching you, your eyes meeting his hazel ones, so you cleared your throat. “You gonna come in, or you gonna wait to be invited in like the boomer you are?” You left him there, mouth hanging open at your words as you brought the cookies into the kitchen.

“For the last time, m’not a fuckin’ boomer. I was born in ‘94!”

Spinning back around, you nearly collided with his chest, rather instead backing up to pat it while looking up at him, “Okay Boomer.”

After that moment, your nerves disappeared completely. Flour was in your hair, but the two of you didn’t care; much preferring to laugh over your cups of tea and the treats you had both made.

When it came time to play Scrabble, you were excited to see how he’d live up to his online persona from Words with Friends, or if instead he’d just mutter curse words when you put down a word that was worth triple. It was fairly easy to stay focused, your eyes trained on the letters before you, instead of the raven haired man whose eyes were boring into the side of your head after each word he put down.

You hadn’t realized why until you looked up from your tiles to the board, trying to place your next word to finally beat him. There was a word spelt out at the top of the board, one that hadn’t been there previously - the word was ‘date’, but beside it there was a small piece of paper with a question mark on it, and in the corner where the letter value would be was drawn the tiniest heart you’d ever seen.

“Did you make that heart yourself?” You asked, a grin spreading across your lips, finally looking up at the man.

There was a long pause before he whispered, “Yes,” almost sheepishly, his cheeks turning pink.

“You wanna go on a date with me?”

The response was quicker this time, a more confident, “Yes.”

Looking from him to the tiles, you reached across to grab the letters to spell ‘Kiss Me’, stealing his question mark to add to the end of it.

Ashton read it, looking back towards you with a smirk, “You know that’s cheating right?”

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?”

tag list: @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @boyfriend-cal @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @atlcalm @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @wokeupinjapanisabop @mantlereid @inlovehoodx @irwinkitten

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin blurb #5 seconds of summer fanfiction

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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When we hear the term “Deep State,” we tend to think of people staffing the federal bureaucracy. I want to suggest to you that that is an incomplete way to think about it. The Deep State in Western liberal democracies consist not only of government bureaucrats, but also of the leadership in major corporations, leading universities, top media, medicine and law, science, the military, and even sports. A more accurate way to think about what we are dealing with comes from the Neoreactionary term “the Cathedral,” which NRxers use in more or less the same way that 1950s Beats used the term “the Establishment.” I like the term “Cathedral” because it entails the religious commitment these elites have to their principles. You can no more debate these principles with them than you can debate with a religious fundamentalist. They adhere to them as if they were revealed truths.

Yet they still like to pretend that they are liberals — that they favor open, reasoned discourse. This is, in fact, a lie. It is a lie that they depend on to conceal the hegemonic intolerance that they wish to impose on everybody under their authority.

…

It is true that no society can tolerate everything. What the Cathedral is now doing is radically limiting discourse, and demonizing as heretics all those within its purview who dissent, no matter how reasonable their objections. (And now Facebook is incentivizing some of its users to report their friends as potential “extremists.” Please get off Facebook now!) The Cathedral seeks to make all of society over in the mold of a college campus. The Cathedral is growing ever more radical. In recent months, we have seen the US military embrace wokeness (to use the slang term for the most vibrant and activist form of the Cathedral’s religion). You would think that it makes no sense for the leadership of a racially diverse armed forces to embrace and indoctrinate its officers in a neo-Marxist theory that causes everyone to see everyone else primarily in hostile racial terms, but that is exactly what has happened. In time — and not much time, either — we are going to see young people who were once from families and social classes that once were the most stalwart supporters of the military declining to join the armed forces in which they are taught that they are guilty by virtue of their skin color.

…

That��s the Cathedral and its values. The Cathedral has also taken over corporate America, and the professions. I hardly need to elaborate on this further, not for regular readers of this blog. It was a hard knock this past week to see that the US Supreme Court, which some of us had thought would be the last line of defense for anybody traditional in this soft-totalitarian Cathedral theocracy, refused to take on the Gavin Grimm case, and the Barronelle Stutzman case. The Cathedral line in favor of privileging LGBTs over religious people and secular people who don’t accept the full LGBT gospel is hardening.

…

I realized over the weekend why I have been so affected by the experience of being here in Hungary these past three months. It has clarified for me the nature of this conflict. First, take a look at this powerful piece by Angela Nagle, writing about the views of Irish intellectual and cultural critic Desmond Fennell.

…

What does this have to do with Hungary? Prime Minister Viktor Orban and his government have brought down the wrath of European Union leaders over Hungary’s recent law restricting sex education for children, and information about LGBT presented to children. The prime minister of the Netherlands, in extraordinarily bellicose language, threatened to “bring Hungary to its knees” over the law. I am reliably informed by an American source in a position to know that in Washington, even among conservative elites, Viktor Orban is seen as nothing but a fascist. I have been writing all summer about the radical disjunction between Hungary as it is, and Hungary as described by Western elite discourse (media and otherwise). This is by no means to say that Orban’s government is flawless — it certainly is not; corruption, for example, is a big deal here — but to say that there has to be some reason why Western elites of both the Left and the Right despise Hungary so intensely, and slander it so.

There’s a lesson in all this, I believe, for where conservatives and traditionalists in the West are, and where we are likely to go. I have come to believe that the standard left-liberal and right-liberal critiques of Orban — “Magyar Man Bad” — are just as shallow as the “Orange Man Bad” critique of Donald Trump. I say that as someone who was critical of Trump myself, though I credited him for smashing the complacent GOP establishment. I write this blog post in the spirit of Tucker Carlson’s excellent January 2016 Politico piece titled, “Donald Trump Is Shocking, Vulgar, and Right.”

I’ve been reading lately a 2019 book, The Light That Failed, by Ivan Krastev and Stephen Holmes. Both men are liberal scholars who undertake to explain why liberalism failed in Central Europe and Russia after the fall of the Cold War. It’s a remarkably insightful book, one that any conservative with an interest in the problem should read, even though its authors are liberal democrats. They write:

A refusal to genuflect before the liberal West has become the hallmark of the illiberal counter-revolution throughout the post-communist world and beyond. Such a reaction cannot be casually dismissed with the trite observation that “blaming the West” is a cheap way for non-Western leaders to avoid taking responsibility for their own failed policies. The story is much more convoluted and compelling than that. It is a story, among other things, of liberalism abandoning pluralism for hegemony. [Emphasis mine — RD]

You would have thought that in any reasonable pluralistic polity, a sovereign nation choosing to restrict what its children can learn about human sexuality would be of little interest to other nations within that polity. After all, Hungary is not France any more than Estonia is England. There is an immense amount of diversity in Europe. But see, the Cathedral’s liberalism — whether in America or in the EU — is not pluralistic, but hegemonic.

Krastev and Holmes (henceforth, “the authors”) point out that after 1989, the West expected Central European countries to imitate them in every way. The authors — who, remember, are liberals — write:

Without pressing the analogy too far, it’s interesting to observe that the style of regime imitation that took hold after 1989 bears an eerie resemblance to Soviet-era elections where voters, overseen by Party officials, pretended to “choose” the only candidates who were running for office.

…

The authors explain that the reforms demanded by the West weren’t like “grafting a few foreign elements onto indigenous traditions,” but rather “put inherited identity at risk” and stoked “fears of cultural erasure.” From my perspective, this is what you see when you get over here and start looking more closely at what George Soros and people like him, both within and outside of government, did, and seek to do. And so, as the authors put it:

[P]opulism’s political rise cannot be explained without taking account of widespread resentment at the way (imposed) no-alternative Soviet communism, after 1989, was replaced by (invited) no-alternative Western liberalism.

Here’s something I bet you didn’t know about Viktor Orban. After the 2008 crash, Western governments bailed out banks left and right. When Orban came to power in 2010, he chose not to do that, instead taking the side of hard-pressed Hungarian homeowners who had been allowed to take out home loans in Swiss francs. He and his party passed a law to protect homeowners at the expense of the banks.

…

Remember, they wrote this in 2019, but think of this principle applied to now. If you are Viktor Orban, and you look to the West in 2021, you see a United States that is destroying itself with Critical Race Theory wokeness, which is starting to come to Western Europe. You see the Left here in Hungary starting to embrace it (e.g., the Black Lives Matter statue the liberal Budapest city government erected earlier this year), and you know that it will be bad for your country if this poisonous ideology takes root. So you encourage Hungary’s national soccer team not to take the knee before matches.

…

And so, the disintegrating West, headed towards shipwreck, is going to bring Hungary to its knees for trying to protect itself.

…

The authors go on to say that what it means to be a good Western liberal is changing so fast that people in the East never know for sure what vision of society they are supposed to imitate. Think about what it was like for us Americans. I was born in 1967, and educated by schools, by the media, and by every aspect of culture to believe in Dr. Martin Luther King’s colorblind vision. I took it seriously, and I believed in it, and do believe in it. But now the same liberals who argued for that are now arguing that this vision was wrong — that to truly be against racism, you must train yourself to think in exactly the same categories that white segregationists used prior to the Civil Rights revolution. It makes no sense. You come to understand that you have been conned. Never, ever believe liberals: they will change the rules on you, and blame you for your own confusion.

The authors go on to say that sex education in the schools has been a huge flashpoint of conflict within Central and Eastern European societies. It has to do with parents losing the ability to transmit their values to their children. In the flush of post-1989 enthusiasm, young people didn’t so much rebel against their parents as to feel pity for them, and to stop listening to them. The young took their catechism from the Western cathedral. Sex ed was a neuralgic point of the overall struggle between Central European populists, who believed that the traditions and the national heritage of these countries were in danger of being wiped out by the West. Imagine, then, what Hungarian voters must think when they hear the Dutch prime minister threaten to bring their country to its knees because he knows better what they should be teaching their children than they do.

The authors tell a story about how Viktor Orban, at the time an up-and-coming liberal from the countryside, was publicly humiliated by a well-known liberal MP from Budapest’s urban intelligentsia, who adjusted Orban’s tie at a reception, as if doing a favor for a hick cousin.

They go on to explain Orban’s illiberalism by quoting his criticism that liberalism is “basically indifferent to the history and fate of the nation.” Liberal universalism “destroys solidarity,” Orban believes. (“If everybody is your brother, then you are an only child.”) Orban believes that liberal policies will lead to the dissolution of the Hungarian nation because liberals by nature think of the nation as an impediment to the realization of their ideals.

The authors go on to say that Orban has long campaigned on the abuse of the public patrimony by the regime that governed Hungary after 1989, when Communist insiders used their connections to plunder what was left of the public purse, and left the weak to fend for themselves. This attitude explains Orban’s hostility to the banks after the 2008 crash. “[I]n Central and Eastern Europe, defending private property and capitalism came to mean defending the privileges illicitly acquired by the old communist elites,” they write.

(Readers, did you know any of this context about Orban and other critics of liberalism from Central Europe? Doesn’t it make you wonder what more you’re not being told?)

…

What’s preposterous about it? I know these guys are liberals, but what Duda identifies is the difference between soft totalitarianism and hard totalitarianism. In both cases, the Poles don’t get to decide for themselves.

There’s more to the book, but I’ll stop here for today. You don’t have to believe that Viktor Orban or any of these other politicians are saints in order to understand why they believe what they believe — and why people vote for them. The Cathedral did the same thing to Trump and to Trump’s supporters. Yes, there were some Trump voters with disreputable motives, and in any case Trump was by and large not an effective president. But the anti-Trump opposition’s passionate belief in its own righteousness rendered it helpless to understand why so many people hated it, and do hate it still. Trump’s own incompetence made it harder to take that critique seriously.

Trump lost, and most everything he did was wiped away by his successor. Viktor Orban wins — and that is the unforgiveable sin in the eyes of the Cathedral.

Here is the radicalizing thing, though. As you will know if you’ve been reading this blog, Viktor Orban appears to be building a conservative deep state in Hungary. His government has transferred a fortune in public funds and authority over some universities to privately controlled institutions. It is difficult to accept this, at least for me. At the same time, it is impossible for me to look at what has happened in my own country, with the Cathedral now extending its control over every aspect of American life, and to criticize Orban for this. The alternative seems to be surrendering your country and its traditions to the Cathedral, which pretends to be liberal, but which is in fact growing even more authoritarian and intolerant than anything Orban and his party stand for.

It is becoming harder to think of liberalism in the sense we have known it as viable anymore. Me, I would actually prefer to live in a more or less liberal, pluralistic society, where California was free to be California, and Louisiana free to be Louisiana, and so forth. This is not the world we live in.

…

The controversy around Viktor Orban is not only about an obstreperous Hungarian politician who doesn’t play well with others. It’s about the future of the West.

UPDATE: To put it succinctly, we might need soft authoritarianism to save us from soft totalitarianism.

#rod dreher #the american conservative #hungary #orbán viktor

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therainbowwillow · 3 years

Text

here is part 4: https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/640369768122253312/therainbowwillow

Part 5/??? of my Hadestown AU!

Here’s the premise/ last time on this AU:

Hades’s coping method of murdering people is somehow making him feel worse. Now that he has Orpheus locked up he has to confront his emotions. (Shudders) Thanatos, god of the dead quietly refuses to kill Orpheus, leaving him balancing a thin line between life and death. Orpheus ends up in a dark prison, where his only interactions are with Hades. He’s alone and afraid and he’s lost track of how long he’s been locked away. His memory is hazy. He’s lost hope for any chance of rescue. Eurydice is increasingly worried about Orpheus. He’s breathing, half-alive, but she doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold on for long. Persephone is tired of her husband. Achilles and Patroclus are debating whether or not they should cross the Styx and live in the overworld again, given that they have no home and no living family or friends outside. Hermes, Dionysus and Apollo have finally reached the edge of the Styx.

———————————————

The train squeals to a halt. Thanatos pulls the doors open. Dionysus and Apollo step out first. “Best of luck,” the god of death mutters to Hermes. He nods.

The Styx stretches out before them, its dark waters flow in torrents. Beyond it, Hades’s wall rises high. “This is the underworld, huh?” Apollo shifts his footing. “It’s hotter than I expected. And... darker.”

Dionysus kneels at the bank of the Styx. “Just like I remembered,” he says with a smile. “Cerberus!” He calls.

Apollo just about collapses in fright as the dog trots to Dionysus’s side. “Hey buddy!” Dionysus has to stand on his tippy-toes to scratch behind one of Cerberus’s six ears. “How’s mama? I hope father is treating you well.”

Cerberus notices Dionysus’s companions and growls, loud and deep. “Oh hush. They’re with me. You know Hermes.” Hermes nods, keeping adequate distance between himself and the massive canine. “And that’s Apollo. He’s new.”

Apollo is silent for once.

“If mama’s doing okay, I’ll be back later!” He lowers his voice. “Cerb, I know things have been rough. And I know Hades has been... well... if you see him, give him some love for me. Now. Can we cross?” Cerberus steps back. Dionysus smiles. “Thanks buddy.”

He beckons to Hermes and Apollo. He turns back to the Styx and grape vines spring from the ground, weaving their way across the river as if to form a bridge. Hermes grabs Apollo’s wrist. “Come on. Can’t stand around gawking all day.”

——————————————

The farther they’d come from heart of Hadestown, the clearer the air had become. Orpheus breaths no easier, Eurydice notes. They’d walked four days since he’d passed out and his condition hadn’t improved.

Eurydice sits against a rock. She hums the notes of Orpheus’s song to herself. It’s easier to remember her goal with his song, she’s found. His lyre sits in her lap. She wishes she knew how to play.

“How far’s the Styx?” She asks Persephone.

“A three days’ walk. We’re close.”

“Will he wake when we’re out of here?” Eurydice already knows the answer.

“I don’t know. Get some sleep. The closer we get to the outside world, the more you’ll need to act like a mortal. You aren’t as much a shade as you were in the mines.”

Eurydice nods and closes her eyes.

Achilles and Patroclus take the first watch while their companions sleep.

“How’s your shoulder?” Achilles asks.

Patroclus shrugs. “Better, I suppose.”

“We’ll reach the Styx soon,” Achilles says. “Will you cross?”

“You weren’t planning to?” Patroclus asks, surprised.

“What’s out there for us? The war is over, everyone we knew is long dead. We’re dirt-poor. Where would we go?”

“Persephone would provide for us. Achilles, if we stay here... We can’t fight the Lethe forever. Hades would separate us and our memories would fade until we’d be forced to join the ranks of the shades as two more broken-spirited nobodies!”

Achilles sighs. “We’d have to work every second of our lives if we left.”

“We could work together, at least.”

He nods. “I guess aything is better than this.”

“And this is almost over.” Patroclus smiles. “We’ll get to see the sun and the stars again. I miss stargazing with you. Watching the sunrise. I miss... I miss living, Achilles.”

“I miss it as well. I never got a chance to say goodbye to life. After I lost you, I didn’t think about living anymore. I just wanted to see you again. Sometimes I wish... after all this time down here... that I’d really appreciated what I had before I lost it. It would be easier to remember.”

“I feel the same about Elysium,” Patroclus says. “Hades took everything from us. We had a future ahead of us, an eternity in paridise.”

“We’re always fighting to keep what we can’t have. You died for me. We thought it was over. Then Hades took Elysium and we fought all over again to keep our paradise. And when we lost, we fought to keep our memories. You think it’ll be different this time?” Achilles asks.

“All we can do is hope.”

Achilles nods. They look up at the empty sky, hand in hand.

———————————————

Orpheus coughs. Four days? Five days? A month? He doesn’t remember how long he’s been here. There are shouts from the neighboring cell. At least it’s something to listen to.

“You know why you’re here?” A woman’s voice trills.

“No!” A man shouts. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“They say you have a connection to the Olympians.”

“That isn’t true!” He shouts.

“They want the boy back. The poet boy. You’re a spy,” she accuses.

“No, no I’m not! You don’t underst-“

There’s a sharp crack. Orpheus winces.

“Ugh...”

Orpheus hears the man slide down his cell’s wall.

“I’m no spy,” he pleads. His voice sounds as if he’s holding his nose.

“Liar. You were once a lover of Apollo. You’re aiding him.”

The man’s breaths are heavy. “I can’t remember anything.”

“You heard the song.”

“How long ago was that?” He groans. “I can’t remember a thing. If wanted to help, I couldn’t. And why would I? Whoever I loved, he let me die.”

“Get up, pathetic boy.”

Orpheus hears his shuffling against the stones.

“I’ll take double shifts at the mines. Let me out of here, please,” the man begs.

“We’ll talk when you’re ready to tell me the truth.” The door clangs shut. The woman’s footsteps fade down the hall. Orpheus hears a whimper of pain.

“Hey,” he mumbles, desperate to speak to someone, “I won’t lie, it doesn’t get easier.”

“Do I know you?” The man asks through the wall.

“I couldn’t say. I... I don’t remember much,” Orpheus admits. He’d tried his best to repeat names and events to himself, but eventually he’d fallen asleep and forgotten what he was meant to be repeating.

“You sound familiar.”

“If you remember my name... I’d like to know,” Orpheus whispers.

“I’ll tell you.”

Orpheus’s cell door opens, bathing him in dull neon lights. He doesn’t react.

“Orpheus.” His name, he realizes.

“Hades,” he rasps.

Hades sits beside him.

“This is my eternity.” Orpheus’s voice is empty, devoid of emotion. He doesn’t open his eyes.

Hades looks at the boy. He hates the way Orpheus controls him. He hates that song that can wake his soul. But he wants to hear it again. “Look at me.”

Orpheus looks. Hades sits before him, twice. He’s seeing double, he notices.

“Sing your pretty little song,” Hades demands.

“I...” Orpheus sighs. “I don’t remember it.”

“You remembered last time. Sing.”

Orpheus turns away. “No,” he whimpers. “If I do...” A little sob escapes his lips. “I’ll just forget again. And again. And again!” He yells. “I don’t want to remember, only to forget all over again.” He lifts his head. “Give me oblivion. Throw me to the mines. Anything but this.”

“I said,” Hades growls, “sing.”

A wave of nausea hits him. He presses his head against the ground. “La... la la...” he coughs. His chest heaves with effort.

“Sing, boy!”

“La... la...” Orpheus chokes on the underworld air. He coughs and coughs until he’s too weak to cough anymore. Hades face spins before him. Tears sting his eyes. “I... I can’t.”

Hades stands. He watches Orpheus, shaking with sobs. He takes a step back. “No...” Orpheus whispers. “Please don’t leave me here.”

Hades’s shoulders sink. He kneels at the poet’s side. He takes a flask of Dionysus’s alcohol from his pocket and unscrews the cap. He lifts Orpheus effortlessly and holds the bottle against the boy’s lips. “Drink.” He tilts the flask and Orpheus swallows. He pushes Orpheus’s matted hair out of his eyes.

“T-thank you.” Orpheus whispers.

Hades wraps his coat around Orpheus’s shaking body. “You... You’re alright. Breathe, kid.”

“I... I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Just relax.” Hades holds Orpheus awkwardly. “Listen. I... I’m not coming back here. Just go, kid.”

Hades twists a key into the locks binding Orpheus’s wrists. The chains fall away. He slumps into Hades arms. The king of the dead lets Orpheus stay there for a moment. Then he lays he boy on the ground again, still bundled in his coat. He leaves the door open behind him.

PS. Thank you dearly to my loyal fandom, @thewittyphantom and @lady-of-the-upside-down

#hadestown au #hadestown fanfic #hadestown #therainbowwrites

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bechloeislegit · 5 years

Text

BECA'S TURNING THE BIG 3-0

A/N: Happy Birthday to FF.net User Lasleonas007, who asked for a Beca getting older AU and how she navigates her way through turning 30 and realizing she's bisexual one-shot. I hope you enjoy it.

"Why?" Beca asked Theo.

"Because it's your birthday," Theo replied.

"I've had three other birthdays since I started working here," Beca said.

"But this one is a big one," Theo said. "You're turning thi-"

"Shut up!" Beca yelled as she jumped up to cover Theo's mouth. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Theo pulled Beca's hand away from his mouth and laughed. "You're actually afraid of turning thi-" Theo stopped at Beca's glare. "That age? I can't believe badass Beca Mitchell is afraid of her birthday."

"Shut up," Beca said as she flopped back down in her chair. "It's not the age per se. It's more like I thought I'd be further in my career by now."

"Four Grammys, two American Music Awards, and three People's Choice Awards say otherwise," Theo said. "You've done more in three years than some have done their whole careers. You should be proud of that. Besides, Kahled wants it to happen."

"I get it," Beca said. "Can I invite whoever I want?"

"The Bellas have already received their invitations," Theo said with a smile. "The only ones we haven't heard from are-" Theo pulls out a list and looks it over. "Cynthia Rose and Chloe."

Beca's heart sinks. Chloe hasn't been responding to her texts or emails lately, and she has no idea why. Ever since Chloe stayed behind after the USO Tour to get to know that soldier boy better, she and Beca had slowly drifted apart.

"CR is in the Air Force," Beca said. "We don't know where she is stationed. She may not have even seen the invitation."

"What about Chloe?" Theo asked. "Any way you can reach out to her?"

"I, um," Beca stammered. "We haven't really been in touch for a while."

"Oh," Theo said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine," Beca said, giving Theo a half-hearted smile. "It is what it is. At least the other girls will be here to celebrate with me."

"That's the spirit," Theo said. "I have another meeting, so we'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay," Beca said.

Theo left, and Beca sat at her desk, holding her phone, and debating whether she should try and reach Chloe. She threw her phone on the desk and leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

Beca was sitting home later that night when her phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was Stacie.

"Hey, Stace," Beca said as she answered the call. "What's up?"

"Hey, Superstar," Stacie said, smiling. "Brey and I were wondering if you had a spare room for us when we come out to LA for your birthday."

"I sure do," Beca said. "You're the first ones to ask, so you definitely get a room here."

"Great!" Stacie said. "We can't wait to see you."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, too," Beca said.

"Um, Brey told me that Chloe wants to come but doesn't think you want her there," Stacie blurted out.

"What?" Beca yelled, sitting up straight. "Why the hell would she think that?"

"Brey said you guys haven't been in touch lately," Stacie said.

"That's because she stopped responding to my texts or answering my calls," Beca said, frustration in her voice. "I can't tell you how many times I've reached out, and she just ignored me. So, don't put this on me."

"I'm not," Stacie said quickly. "Brey said Chloe asks about you all the time, and when Brey asks her why she doesn't ask you herself, Chloe says you aren't talking to her."

"That bitch," Beca said. "And, of course, Aubrey would take that to mean I quit trying when the reality is Chloe stopped responding. Unbelievable."

"Maybe you should talk to her," Stacie said.

"What part of she's not answering my calls or texts did you not get?" Beca asked.

"She's here," Stacie said.

"What?" Beca asked. "What do you mean she's there?"

"She showed up yesterday," Stacie said. "With Chicago."

"No, no," Beca said. "I don't want to talk to her."

"Well, then things are about to get awkward," Chloe's voice said through the phone line.

"Yeah, it is," Beca said with a heavy sigh.

The two remained silent for a few minutes — the quiet broken by Stacie's voice in the background, saying something to Chloe.

"That's not true," Beca heard Chloe say. "She just stopped calling or texting, so I stopped. I figured she didn't want to be friends anymore."

"I'm still here," Beca said through the phone. "And I call bullshit. You stopped calling me and answering my texts. I tried for months to get you to talk to me."

"No, you didn't," Chloe said, getting angry.

"Yes, I did!" Beca was yelling now. "I'm going through something, and I needed my best friend, and you weren't there for me."

"I haven't gotten a single text or phone call from you in months," Chloe yelled back. "I promised I'd always be there for you, Beca. I didn't go back on my word. You stopped all communications, not me!"

"Would you like me to send you screenshots where I texted you?" Beca asked. "Or a copy of my call log? Because I will."

Chloe was confused. She knew Beca wouldn't lie about this, especially since Beca could easily prove everything she said.

"But, I, I don't understand," Chloe said, tears springing to her eyes. "Why wouldn't I have gotten them?"

"I don't know," Beca said, losing some of her fire upon hearing Chloe close to crying.

Beca heard some muffled talk in the background, and then Stacie was on the phone.

"Beca, Chloe is going to have to call you back," Stacie said. "She wants to check something on her phone."

"Um, okay," Beca said. "I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Bye," Stacie said and ended the call.

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

"Check to see if Beca's number is blocked," Aubrey suggested.

Chloe handed Stacie's phone back to her and pulled out her phone. That's when Stacie told Beca Chloe would call her back.

"I wouldn't block Beca," Chloe said as she went through her phone. "Oh, my God! Her number is blocked. I swear I didn't block her."

Chloe was shaking her head, looking at Stacie and Aubrey.

"I did," Chicago said.

"What?" Chloe asked, confused. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I was tired of hearing about her," Chicago said, standing with his arms crossed.

"Excuse me?" Chloe said, her voice rising in anger. "She's my best friend, of course, I was going to talk about her."

"I get that," Chicago said. "But it was nonstop. Beca this, Beca that. I'm so proud of Beca. God, if I had to hear her name one more time, I was going to lose it, so I blocked her number."

"You had no right to do that," Chloe said, seething.

"I'm your boyfriend," Chicago bellowed. "I have every right."

"Whoa, let's calm down," Aubrey said, stepping between the two to keep it from getting physical. "Chicago, maybe you should explain yourself."

Chicago let out a sigh of frustration. "Fine. Chloe is my girlfriend, but the way she talked about Beca, it was like they were girlfriends, and I was just...there."

"You were jealous of Beca," Stacie said, looking at Chicago.

"Maybe I was," Chicago said defensively. "We had been drifting apart lately, and I thought." Chicago choked back a sob and continued, his voice soft, "I thought if Beca were out of the way, we'd go back to the way we used to be." He looked at Chloe and said, "I love you, Chloe."

Chicago reached for Chloe, and Chloe stepped out of reach.

"No," Chloe said as a tear fell from her eye. "I can't. I trusted you, and you broke that trust; it's not the first time. I can't. I don't." Chloe wiped at the tears that had started falling faster. "I think you should go."

"Chloe," Chicago said, tears gathering in his eyes.

"No, Chicago," Chloe said. "We've been having troubles for too long. This was the endpoint for me. I can't be with someone I don't trust or love anymore. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Chicago said, holding back his tears. "I'll get my stuff and go."

Chloe stood looking down at the ground as Chicago made his way out of the room. He stopped and looked back at Chloe.

"I'm sorry, Chloe."

Chloe just nodded, and Chicago got his things. Stacie and Aubrey stood by in case Chloe needed them. The silence was only broken when Chicago made his way to the front door and looked sadly back at Chloe. He opened the door and left, silently closing the door behind him.

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

Beca was pacing around her living room, chewing on her thumbnail. It had been an hour since she had spoken to Chloe, and she hadn't called back yet.

Beca jumped and let out a loud "Ahhh!" when the phone she was holding rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Becs," Chloe's voice came through the phone. "I owe you a huge apology. I never received your texts of calls because-" Chloe sighed and continued. "Because Chicago blocked your number on my phone."

"What?" Beca asked. "Why would he do that?"

"He was jealous," Chloe said. "I guess I, um, I talked about you too much for his liking."

"I'm sorry, Chlo," Beca said. "I thought you had given up on me because you were happy, and I didn't fit into your life anymore."

"Beca," Chloe said sadly. "I would never give up on you. I love, um, I love what you've become, and I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks," Beca said. "So, are you and Chicago coming to my birthday bash?"

"No," Chloe said. Hearing Beca let out a quiet "Oh," Chloe quickly added, "I mean, it won't be Chicago and me. It will be just me. I sent Chicago home."

"Oh, I see, giving each other some time apart to think about things," Beca said, her voice sad, but it was obvious she was trying to sound upbeat.

"I broke up with him," Chloe said.

"Oh," Beca said again. "Are you okay?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Chloe said, her voice light. "It's been leading up to that for a while."

"I wished I had known," Beca said. "I would have been there for you."

"I know you would," Chloe said.

Beca could hear the smile in Chloe's voice, causing her to smile as well.

"So, I was wondering if you'd be okay with me coming to LA sooner?" Chloe asked. "I can change my ticket for Spain to LA, and maybe I can be your roommate while I look for a job."

"Seriously?" Beca asked, excitedly.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I'm single now and need a job, so what better person to enter the next chapter of my life with than my best friend?"

"What does Aubrey have to say about that?" Beca asked with a chuckle.

"Believe it or not, she's all for it," Chloe said. "It was her idea."

"When can you get here?"

"I'll check flights as soon as we're done talking."

"What about all your stuff?"

"I'll have Chicago ship everything it to me once I'm there," Chloe said. "There isn't much. Just my clothes and a few personal mementos."

"This is awesome," Beca said. "I really need to talk to you about something, but I want to wait and do it face to face. Okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," Beca said. "And I promise the first night you're here we'll order pizza and sit and talk. I promise."

"I can't wait," Chloe said. "I'll let you know once I've booked my flights."

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

It was three days later, and a bright sunny LA afternoon when Beca opened her door to find Chloe standing there. The two friends smiled at each other and without saying a word, pulled each other into a hug. Tears fell down both their faces as they held each other.

After a few minutes, Beca pulled back and wiped her face. She grabbed one of Chloe's bags and pulled it inside; Chloe grabbed the other and followed Beca.

"Wow, Becs!" Chloe exclaimed, looking around. "This house is, is. Wow!"

"I know it's a lot for one person," Beca said with a shrug. "But I figure one day I'll be getting married and we can live here. Maybe have a kid or two."

"What?" Chloe asked, her mouth hanging open. "Beca Mitchell talking about having kids. Who are you, and what did you do with my best friend?"

"Haha," Beca said, rolling her eyes. "Come on; I'll show you to your room."

After leaving Chloe to unpack, Beca went downstairs and ordered pizza. She got two beers out of the refrigerator, grabbed some napkins and plates, and took them to the living room. She placed them on the coffee table and went up to see if Chloe needed any help.

Beca knocked lightly on the door and entered when she heard Chloe say 'come in.' Chloe was standing by the window, looking out over the view.

"You need any help?" Beca asked, walking over to Chloe.

"I'm done," Chloe said. "I was just admiring the view. The way the moon is shining down over the water is breathtaking. And, I can't believe you have the beach practically at your back door. Can we go for a walk on the beach?"

"First, we have the beach at our back door," Beca said, causing Chloe to smile. "And, we can definitely take a walk on it, but let's save it for tomorrow. It's already dark, and I ordered our pizzas. I figure we could get started on catching up."

"And you are going to spill your guts about whatever it is I wasn't around for," Chloe said.

"Um, right," Beca said. "I'll do that."

"Let's go," Chloe said, grabbing Beca's hand and leading her back downstairs.

Beca and Chloe settled down with their beers, and Chloe looked at Beca.

"I've missed you," Chloe said.

"I missed you, too," Beca said. "A lot."

Chloe reached over and patted Beca's leg. "So, spill. What's going on with you?"

Beca took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Okay, so I've been, um, going through something," Beca said. "I was confused by these feelings I was having, but I don't think I'm confused anymore. I haven't told anyone about this, well, except for my mom because, you know, reasons. And Theo and Khaled."

Chloe grabbed Beca's free hand and gave her a sweet smile. "I think I know where this is going, Becs. You can tell me. I won't judge; you know that."

"I do know that," Beca said and took a big gulp of her beer. "It's just hard for me to talk about some things."

"Okay," Chloe said, scooting closer to Beca. "I'll ask questions, and you answer if you want. Okay?"

"Um, okay," Beca said.

"Okay," Chloe said. "Does this realization have anything to do with you being gay or bi?"

Beca nodded her head. "Yeah. I might be gay, but then I think I might be bi. I mean, I like men but I also like women. And lately, I've been thinking a lot more about women. Well, one particular woman."

"Oh," Chloe said, letting go of Beca's hand. She took a quick drink of her beer and asked, "Who, um, who have you been thinking about?"

"I don't know if I can tell you," Beca said quietly. "I've liked her for a while, but I didn't realize I had any real feelings for her until about six months ago."

"I'm kind of tired," Chloe said suddenly. "I think I'm going to go to bed, and we can pick this up tomorrow."

"We haven't had our pizza," Beca said.

"Oh, um, that's okay," Chloe said. "I'm not hungry."

Chloe stood and started to walk by Beca. Beca grabbed her wrist, and Chloe stopped to look down at Beca.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked.

"Of course I am, Becs," Chloe said. "I'm just tired. You forget I was in Atlanta earlier, and it's three hours later there. I'm just feeling the jet lag. I need a good night's sleep, and I'll be fine."

"Okay," Beca said, dropping Chloe's hand. "I'll, um, I'll see you in the morning."

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

Chloe awoke the next morning and laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She let out a heavy sigh and thought about what Beca had told her the night before. She really wants to know who this woman is that seems to have captured Beca's heart.

A tear slid down Chloe's cheek as she thought about how she wanted to be that woman for Beca. Having these feelings for her best friend hasn't been easy to hide. She always thought Beca was straight, and now that she knows better, she wishes Beca would reciprocate her feelings.

Chloe sat up and wiped her eyes again. She sighed and climbed out of bed, deciding to shower and get ready for the day.

Chloe felt better after her shower and put on shorts and a tank top with a sports bra underneath. She pulled out a pair of ankle socks and put them on. She grabbed her shoes and carried them with her downstairs.

Chloe was surprised to hear noise coming from the kitchen and went to investigate. She walked in to find Beca with her head buried in the refrigerator.

"Good morning," Chloe called out as she sat at the counter, dropping her shoes at her feet.

"Shit!" Beca cried out as she hit her head on the door of the refrigerator. "Morning," she mumbled as she rubbed her head.

"Sorry," Chloe said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," Beca said.

"I wanted to apologize for ending our conversation so abruptly last night," Chloe said, fiddling with her fingers. "I really was tired. But, I also want to help you navigate through whatever feelings you have."

Beca sat on a stool across from Chloe. "I want to come out to my fans and stuff. But I don't know how to do it. You know I'm not good with words most of the time, and I don't want to sound like I'm mocking other people's sexuality. All this is new to me, and I'm scared."

"Oh, Becs," Chloe said as she got up and walked over to Beca. She pulled Beca into a hug and held her for a moment. "I'll be there every step of the way. It doesn't have to be as scary as you're making it out to be."

"That's easy for you to say," Beca said. "You came out to your family when you were fifteen, and they accepted you."

"And your fans will accept you," Chloe said.

"I'm more worried about the Bellas," Beca mumbled.

"Why?" Chloe asked. "You know they'll support you. I mean, look at Aubrey and Stacie, CR and Denise, Jessica and Ashley. Practically all the Bellas are gay or bi. Let me ask you, how did your mom take it when you told her?"

"She was very supportive," Beca said with a small smile. "She said she didn't care who I loved as long as they made me happy."

"And what about your dad?"

"I, um, I haven't told him."

"Why not?"

Beca shrugged. "Somehow, I don't think he'll take it as well as my mom did."

"I bet he'll surprise you," Chloe said. "He's not the same guy who walked out on you and your mom. I can see how much you love each other, and I have a feeling he'll say the exact thing your mom said."

"See, this is why I needed you," Beca said. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

"I can't help that I'm awesome like that," Chloe said, grinning. "Now, what are you going to do about this woman who's caught your eye."

Beca swallowed and avoided looking at Chloe. "I think I need to tell a few more people before I'm ready to dive into that."

"Okay," Chloe said. "Why don't you start by calling your dad. If he starts ranting and raving, just hang up. You don't need to listen to him."

"You're right," Beca said. "I think I'm going to do it now before I lose my nerve."

"I'm going to take a walk on the beach to give you some privacy," Chloe said.

Beca pulled Chloe into a hug. "Thanks, Chlo," she said. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too," Chloe said and pulled out of the hug. "Call your dad."

"I will," Beca said.

Chloe pulled her socks off and dropped them into her shoes. She then made her way out of the house and down to the beach. She stopped and looked around for a minute before she started walking.

Chloe had been walking for about ten minutes, thinking about Beca the whole time, when she decided to turn and head back. She wanted to be there for Beca in case things went badly with her dad.

Chloe made her way back to Beca's and was surprised to hear someone yelling her name. She looked up to see Beca running toward her. Chloe started jogging to meet Beca.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked as soon as Beca got to her.

Beca grabbed Chloe and swung her around. "You were right," Beca said as she set Chloe down. "My dad said the same thing my mom did. I want to call Stacie and Aubrey next, and I want you there when I do."

Chloe laughed and hugged Beca. "Let's go."

Beca and Chloe ran back, hand-in-hand, to Beca's house. They brushed the sand off their feet and entered the house.

Beca pulled out her phone and called Stacie. Chloe sat with her while she told Stacie and Aubrey. The girls were accepting of course and teased Beca about the mystery woman who awakened her sapphic desires.

"Stop it," Beca said, blushing. "I'm not sure anything will happen there, so for now, I'm going to let it be."

"When are you going to tell the rest of the Bellas?" Stacie asked.

"When they're all here next week for my birthday bash," Beca said.

"You know they won't care, right?" Aubrey asked.

"I know," Beca said. "But I want to be the one to tell them. I don't want them to hear it on TMZ or read it in some tabloid."

"Good for you," Stacie said. "Now, we'll see you in a week. Maybe we'll even get you laid while we're out there. I'm sure there are plenty of gay bars to check out."

"No, no, no," Beca said, shaking her head.

Chloe frowned at this. She hopes Stacie was making a joke and wasn't being serious.

"Stacie," Chloe said. "I don't think Beca's quite there yet. Let her do things on her own terms in her own time."

"I'm just yanking her chain, Chloe," Stacie said with a laugh.

"Thank, God," Beca mumbled, before saying a bit louder, "We'll see you guys next week."

"Can't wait, Beca," Aubrey said. "Bye, Chloe."

"Bye, Brey," Chloe said. "Bye, Stacie."

"Bye," Stacie said, and the call ended.

Beca sat staring at the counter with a furrowed brow.

"You okay, Becs?" Chloe asked.

"What?" Beca said. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. All this has actually been much easier than I thought it would be. And, I have you to thank for that."

"That's what I'm here for," Chloe said. "I told you I'd help you through this, and it wouldn't be as bad as you were making it out to be."

"You're right," Beca said. She suddenly jumped up. "And as a thank you, I'm taking you to Brunch."

"I should change first," Chloe said, looking down at her shorts and tank top.

"You look fine," Beca said. "I'm not changing. This is LA, and I know a beachside diner that serves a great Brunch."

"Okay, then," Chloe said. "Let me put my shoes on, and I'm ready."

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

A week later, Chloe used Beca's car to pick Stacie and Aubrey up at the airport. They headed to Beca's, and Chloe was regaling them with all the things she and Beca had been doing.

"Beca's at the studio," Chloe told them. "She'll be home later, and we thought we'd order pizza or Chinese for dinner. We know you'll be tired early because of the time difference, so we decided to have a quiet night in."

"LA agrees with you, Chloe," Aubrey said.

"More like, Beca agrees with her," Stacie said with a laugh.

"Don't, Stacie," Chloe said. "I'm having a hard time with this since Beca won't tell me who the mystery woman is."

"I can't believe you don't see it," Stacie said, shaking her head.

"Stacie, don't, okay?" Aubrey said. "I know you have your theories, but let's leave them be for a bit."

"Theories?" Chloe asked. "Theories about what?"

"Not what, who," Stacie corrected Chloe. "I think you are the reason that Beca became aware of her sexuality."

"What? No way," Chloe said. "She said she didn't realize she had feelings for the woman until about six months ago."

"Which is exactly when you two lost touch," Stacie said. "You know what they say; absence makes the heart grow fonder. I think she realized that she missed you so much because she was in love with you."

"I don't know," Chloe said, confused and unsure of herself.

"Don't worry too much about it, Chloe," Aubrey said. "Maybe Beca will tell us once the Bellas are all here. Then we'll all know. But, for what it's worth, I think Stacie may be on to something."

Chloe looked at Stacie in the rearview mirror and caught Stacie grinning back at her.

"Well, here we are," Chloe said as she pulled into Beca's drive.

"Holy shit!" Stacie said, her mouth agape as she saw Beca's house. "That picture she sent did not do this place justice."

"It is quite the house," Aubrey said as they all got out of the car.

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

Beca came home and greeted her new house guests. They decided to order pizza and were sitting around the living room, talking and laughing. Beca noticed that Chloe seemed a bit off but didn't say anything.

It was close to nine, and Aubrey and Stacie both started yawning.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed," Beca said. "This is about the same time that Chloe was ready to crash her first night here."

Chloe gave a small chuckle. "Told you, the time difference is a killer."

"We're sorry, Beca," Stacie said mid-yawn. "We'll be better in time for your birthday party."

"Why don't you two go to bed?" Beca said. "Chloe and I will clean up down here. We can talk in the morning about what you want to do tomorrow."

"Thanks, Beca," Aubrey said.

"Have a good night," Chloe told Aubrey as she hugged her.

Chloe hugged Stacie next and wished her a good night as well. The two Bellas went upstairs, and Chloe and Beca started cleaning up their dinner trash.

"Hey, are you okay?" Beca asked Chloe as they finished.

"What? Um, yeah, I'm fine," Chloe said unconvincingly.

"Come on, Chlo," Beca said. "I can tell something's wrong. You can tell me."

"It's just something Stacie said," Chloe finally told Beca. "It's given me something to think about, and I'm still trying to process it. I'll talk to you once I've figured things out. Okay?"

"Fair enough," Beca said.

Beca was interrupted further by a knock on the door. Beca furrowed her brow. "Who could that be? I thought the rest of the girls weren't coming until tomorrow."

Beca hurried over to answer the door. She was surprised to see Amy standing in front of her.

Amy grabbed Beca in a bear hug and dropped her when she saw Chloe standing behind her.

"Chloe!" Amy said, grabbing her in a hug. "I didn't think you were going to be here."

"Of course, I'd be here," Chloe said with a laugh as Amy set her down. "I couldn't miss Beca's thirtieth birthday, could I?"

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Ames," Beca said. "But why are you here?"

"I heard the rest of the Bellas were invited to stay here," Amy said. "So, I knew that since I'm your best friend, the invitation extended to me."

"Oh, um, right," Beca said, looking at Chloe with her eyes wide. They had already determined who was sleeping where because they thought Amy was staying in a hotel. "Amy, would you like a drink?"

"Sure," Amy said. "Got any beer?"

"Sure do," Beca said. "Um, Chlo, can you help me in the kitchen."

"Sure, Becs," Chloe said. "Excuse us for a minute, Amy."

Amy waved her off and sat down on the sofa. Beca was waiting for Chloe when she entered the kitchen.

"Okay, so I don't have a spare room for Amy," Beca said. "So, I thought she could stay in your room, and you can stay in mine with me."

"Um, what?"

"Amy can sleep in your room, and you'll stay in mine," Beca repeated. "We've shared a bed before. Or do you have a problem sleeping in the same bed now that you know I'm bi?"

"You know me better than that, Beca," Chloe said, sounding hurt. "I'll stay in your room with you. It makes the most sense."

"Good," Beca said. "Thank you."

Chloe got a mischievous grin on her face. "I'm a cuddler. So, don't say I didn't warn you when you wake up cuddling with me."

"I'm well aware of your cuddly nature," Beca said. "I think I'll live through it."

"I'll get my stuff and move it to your room," Chloe said.

Chloe left the kitchen, and Beca grabbed a beer for Amy. Chloe came back down, and the three girls chatted for a little while before deciding to go to bed.

Beca changed into her pajamas first and was lying in bed when Chloe came out of the Master Bathroom. Chloe climbed into bed and snuggled down under the covers. Beca wished her a goodnight and turned off the side lamp.

The two women laid awake for a bit, each acutely aware of the other in bed with less than a foot between them. They both finally succumbed to sleep.

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

The next morning, Beca woke to find Chloe's face just inches from her face, smiling at her. They were wrapped up in each other, and Beca pulled her head back a bit to look in Chloe's eyes.

"You're staring," Beca whispered. Why she was whispering, she didn't know.

"I know," Chloe whispered back. "I'd forgotten how pretty you are in the morning."

Beca blushed. "Yeah, right. You're the one who always looks put together, especially in the morning when you first wake up. You're beautiful, Chlo."

Chloe felt her cheeks warm at the compliment.

"Chloe, I-"

"Beca, I-"

They both chuckled. "You go first, Becs," Chloe said.

"I, um-" Beca started and then stopped. "You're the woman I was talking about before."

Chloe pulled back in surprise. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Beca said, pulling back and sitting up as if to get out of bed.

Chloe stopped her. "Don't go," she said.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Beca said. "I hadn't planned on telling you but waking up next to you and seeing you staring at me. It just felt right."

"What are you saying, Beca?"

"I'm saying that I think I'm in love with you."

Chloe's breath hitched a bit, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"I think I'm in love with you, too," Chloe said through her tears.

"Really?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe's face.

Chloe nodded. "I think that's why Chicago and I started drifting apart. I realized that I wanted to be around you all the time. I missed you more than I ever missed Chicago when he had to leave on a mission. I think I've loved you since Barden, but you were straight, so I kept it to myself. But now-."

"Now that you know I'm bi, you have a shot," Beca finished for her, smiling.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "So, do I have a shot with you?"

"I just told you I'm in love with you," Beca said, pulling Chloe to her. "I think you more than have a shot."

"Can I kiss you?" Chloe asked.

"Yes, but I'm nervous," Beca said. "I've never properly kissed a girl before."

"Don't worry," Chloe said, leaning in. "I promise to be gentle."

Beca closed her eyes and moved her head forward until their lips met. She let out a soft moan, and Chloe put an arm around Beca's neck to pull her in closer and deepened the kiss.

Beca pulled back to catch her breath. "Wow," Beca said, leaning her forehead against Chloe's. "If I had known kissing girls was like this, I'd have kissed you a long time ago."

Chloe let out a small laugh and looked into Beca's eyes. "So, what does this mean?" Chloe asked softly.

"I want to be with you, Chloe," Beca said. "In a relationship. I know with you by my side, I'll be able to come out to my fans and the world, and we'll have a happy life together. I hope you want that, too."

"I do," Chloe said. "But first, we need to tell the Bellas."

"You're right," Beca said nervously. She chewed on her bottom lip and asked, "Can I kiss you again?"

Chloe didn't say anything; she pulled Beca to her and smashed their lips together.

~~ Beca's Turing The Big 3-0 ~~

Beca and Chloe were kept from being alone by the arrival of the rest of the Bellas. Everyone was shown to their rooms and gathered in the living room. After more chatting and catching up, Beca cleared her throat to get everyone's attention.

"I, um, have something I need to say," Beca said. She looked over to Aubrey and Stacie; they were smiling and nodding at her. She looked to her left to find Chloe standing next to her. She smiled.

"I've been confused for a long time and finally came to the realization that I am bisexual," Beca said. "I have not come out publicly yet, but I'm working up to it."

"Did you realize this about yourself because of Chloe?" Amy asked.

"What?" Beca asked, shocked that Amy asked.

"Don't look so surprised," Amy said. "I shared a room with you and then a tiny apartment. I noticed things."

"So, is Chloe the reason you figured out you were bi?" Jessica asked.

Beca looked at Chloe, and Chloe looked back at her. Beca raised her brow, and Chloe shrugged and nodded her head.

Beca turned to look at the expectant faces of the Bellas. "Yes, she is."

The girls smiled and congratulated Beca.

"Are you two a couple now?" Aubrey asked.

"We are," Chloe said, taking Beca's hand and standing closer.

"It's all new to me," Beca said. "So, give us some space, please. I don't want to mess this up."

Chloe smiled and kissed Beca on the cheek.

"This calls for a celebration," CR cried out. "Let's get some drinks and toast the newest Bella couple."

"I've got just the thing," Beca said. "Can you help me, Chlo?"

"I'd be happy to," Chloe said.

The entered the kitchen, and Beca went to the garage. She looked in the refrigerator she had out there for the beer and wine she had purchased for the girls and pulled out a bottle of champagne. She grabbed a few beers and a bottle of wine as well.

When she came back to the kitchen, Chloe was leaning against the counter, watching Beca. Beca set the bottles down and went to stand in front of Chloe. She put a hand on either side of Chloe and leaned in slightly.

"About this kissing thing," Beca said as she leaned in and started kissing Chloe.

Chloe kissed her back, and they broke apart when they heard someone clearing their throat.

"Everyone was wondering where the drinks were," Stacie said from the door.

Beca gave Chloe a quick peck and pushed off from the counter.

"Right here," Beca said as she grabbed some glasses for the champagne.

Stacie grabbed the wine and champagne, and Chloe grabbed Beca.

"I love you," Chloe whispered, pulling Beca into another kiss.

"I love you, too," Beca said once the kiss ended.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years

Text

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 56: Shout It All Out

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Earlier chapters can be found here

The edited version of this chapter will probably be up on AO3 in a day or two.

The Nomu grabbed Ground Zero and pulled, his leg separating from his body in a messy spray of blood. Both parts of him dropped to the ground with a sick, wet sound. The Nomu let loose a triumphant war cry, like some dinosaur from the ancient past. But this time, Shota didn’t make a sound, didn’t scream. He couldn’t… he just couldn’t…

Ground Zero locked eyes with him. “You did this,” he said, jabbing an accusing finger in Shota’s direction. “You did this to me! It’s your fault!”

“I didn’t,” he began, “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“Your fault…

“Your fault!”

Shota bolted awake, with a scream that briefly made the furniture and windows rattle, before he gained enough awareness of where he was. He was in his bedroom, in his home. The walls lined with Hero posters, the shelves filled with books on Heroes and every available surface crammed with different Hero collectibles. Even bringing some of his things to school had done little to make a dent in everything he had. Deku, Lemillion, Shoto, Ingenium, countless others… and, of course, Ground Zero.

A shelf of Ground Zero action figures and statues all seemed to stare at him accusingly. The Hero’s trademark “Kill” yell seemed to twist in the darkness into the same cry of pain he’d witnessed firsthand. Even the ones with a more neutral expressions seemed to stare directly into his soul, accusing him on ruining the life and career of one of the greatest Heroes of their time.

The door to his room flew open and his parents burst into his room. “Shota!” Dad called out. “Are you all right?” His already tired features were marred by concern and even more exhaustion.

Mom moved to his bedside, kneeling beside it. Like Dad, she looked like she hadn’t been sleeping well. Not that he had either. Shota was sleeping a lot, but barely a few hours at a time, before the dreams took him again. “Oh, Baby,” she said, running a hand through his hair. “Another nightmare?”

He nodded, mutely. His voice frightened him now. He’d used his Quirk to literally unmake the Nomu, after he’d already put a hole in it. Such was the power of the raw sonic energy he could unleash, doing everything from sonar to raw destructive force to changing the solidity of matter to vibrating it to the point its molecules lost all cohesion. And none of it had been enough.

“About Katsuki?” Mom asked. “And what happened?”

He nodded again. “I’m sorry,” he said, each word barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Shota,” Dad said. “We’re your parents. Worrying about you is our job.”

“Comes with being fam,” Mom added. “We’re gonna get through this, together.”

It had been days now, since the Nomu attack. He’d barely left his bed in all that time. He just… couldn’t. Couldn’t even look at his phone, though it had buzzed time and time again with texts from his friends. What was there to get through? He’d messed up. Ruined someone’s life. Ruined lots of people’s lives, not just Ground Zero’s, but his family’s as well. And then, what about all the people that only Ground Zero could have saved?

His godfather may have told him he had more potential than anybody else in the class, and for a moment, that had boosted his spirits. Until the terrible reality had set in.

It didn’t matter who said it. He knew whose fault it was.

***

The door to his hospital room opens with a slight click. Shota ignores it; it was probably his parents. Uncle Deku had called them and they’d come as quickly as they could, trying to comfort him. But they had left for a few minutes, trying to let him get some rest while they spoke to one of the doctors.

“Shinso?” a voice asks. It’s Doctor Izumi—Aunt Eri. “You’ve got a visitor.”

There’s a tension in her voice. “For the record, I think this is a bad idea. You should both be resting. You’re just a few hours out of major surgery, Katsuki. You don’t need any stress right now…”

A harsh, hoarse voice interrupts her. “Just… give me a minute with the kid, okay? Please.”

He hears her sigh. “Okay. Ten minutes. No more than that.”

She was going to leave him alone with Ground Zero? Shota doesn’t think he can face that kind of wrath. Why would she leave him alone with someone who must hate him? Instinctively, he turns away, pulling the thin hospital blankets up over his head to hide. Maybe if he stays there long enough, Ground Zero would just go away.

“I know you’re there, Shinso.”

That strikes him as odd. Ground Zero almost never calls people by their actual names, either in a personal or professional context. There’s a long running debate on some of the fandom boards over whether or not he’s giving affectionate nicknames or honestly doesn’t remember people’s names. But it’s out of character enough that Shota risks turning and pulling the covers down just enough for his eyes to poke out.

It definitely looks like Ground Zero, sitting in a wheelchair, dressed in a hospital gown. But Shota’s eyes are drawn to the absence of a leg. His fault. If Ground Zero hadn’t been protecting him, he’d have fought the Nomu some other way, wouldn’t have gotten caught like that…

Ground Zero stays silent for a moment. He’s not known to be a thoughtful man. He’s known for his quick action and quick temper. But from working with him and him being a family friend, Shota knows it’s only half of the truth. He’s just as capable of kindness and gentleness as anyone. He just doesn’t let it show a lot where other people can see. But Shota doesn’t expect to see any of that now.

“Go ahead,” Shota says, his voice barely a whisper. “Yell at me. Tell me I screwed up. I deserve it.”

“Why would I yell at you?” Ground Zero asks. He doesn’t sound surprised, though. Was he expecting Shota to act like that? Maybe his parents had said something. “Near as I can tell, you saved my life. Three times. Pretty sure that makes you the hero of the hour.”

He inches the covers a little lower. “But… but you got hur, .because of me.” Tears start welling up in his eyes. “You lost your leg!”

“That thing would have killed me if you hadn’t gotten its attention. My head was spinning so bad I couldn’t see straight. No way I was getting up in time to fight it off. So you did the heroic thing and put yourself in danger. Even though I told you not to.”

The smallest of smiles tugs at Ground Zero’s lips. “Reminds me of somebody else I know.”

Shota isn’t sure who that might be, but he just keeps eye contact. Ground Zero continues. “And then you blasted the damn thing to smithereens before it could finish me off. And Deku told me you were doing first aid when he showed up. Quick thinking. Might have bled out if you hadn’t done that.”

“But… but I didn’t know Deku was going to show up! I should have…”

“Rescue ops were always gonna get there sooner or later. But in an emergency, every second counts. You did good.”

“But if I wasn’t there… you wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all!” Shota protests.

“Ground Zero shakes his head. “There’s no way of knowing that. This kinda life, every time you go out, every fight you get in, it’s a risk. I always used to say that no second rate Villain was gonna do me in… but a lot of that’s just trash talk. All it takes is one guy getting lucky… and this one did.”

“But,” Shota begins, “aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry?” Why wasn’t he yelling at him like he deserved?

“Of course I am,” Ground Zero says. “But not at you. I’m angry at the people who were behind the Nomu attacks. I’m, okay, I’m angry at a lot of things. But not at you. Never at you.”

Shota looks up at him, eyes wide. This still isn’t making any sense.

Ground Zero takes his hand and gives it a little squeeze. “Because of you, Shinso, I get to go back to my kids and my husband. Better missing a leg than being dead. I… I don’t say this often. So… thank you. For saving my life.”

Shota only manages to nod mutely at that. This all seems so unreal. Even with Ground Zero himself saying it, he can’t quite believe it.

“And getting hurt in the line of duty… time was, I’d say the best Heroes didn’t get hurt. But that ain’t true. The best Heroes… if they get hurt saving somebody… that’s a pretty good trade off. Maybe we saved each other out there.”

He gives Shota a look. “So… stop blaming yourself, okay? I don’t wanna hear about you moping or nothing. Get better and give some Villains hell for me, okay?”

“Oh…okay,” Shota says, quietly.

“What was that?”

“Okay!” It’s the loudest he’s managed to be in several hours. Not a shout, but above the whisper he’s been talking at.

It’s a lie. He’s not okay. It’s not okay.

But maybe if he says it enough…

***

Hound Dog was trying his best to help Shota cope with the memories of what he’d experienced. Trauma was never easy on anyone and his was tied up with a lot of guilt. But the mental health field for Heroes and Hero-trainees had come a long way since his parents’ day. He’s not expected to just walk it off and go right back into the action.

Hound Dog was surprisingly good with teenagers, despite his fearsome appearance. Carefully, he’s walked Shota back through that day. News drones and surveillance drones from the Hero Commission have provided plenty of footage for them to look over, always in short spurts, never more than he could handle at a time.

“Okay,” Hound Dog said. “Now that we’ve looked at the footage, let’s treat this as an after mission report. We can stop at any time, but I want to see how far we can get. Start by telling me where it began.”

“Ground Zero and I were on f-f-foot patrol,” Shota said, forcing himself to spit the word out. “The Nomu came out of nowhere, like it was dropped out of the sky. Ground Zero threw me out of the way and then engaged. He told me to stay down.”

Hound Dog nodded encouragingly. Shota took a breath and went on. The first time watching the video, they hadn’t even gotten this far. This was progress. He could do this.

“Ground Zero then engaged with the Nomu. But… nothing he did even slowed it down. All his explosions were burning it, but it didn’t stop it. At all. Finally…”

The meaty sound of one of the Nomu’s fists hitting Ground Zero. The cry of pain and alarm from the Hero. The terribly ringing clanging where Ground Zero hit a street light. The dull thud of a body hitting the ground. The Nomu’s terrible roar…

“We can stop,” Hound Dog said, kindly. He put both hands on Shota’s shoulders and Shota was aware he’d been shaking. He put his own hands on top of Hound Dog’s, fingers digging into the soft fur. “Stay with me. You’re here in my office. Deep breaths. Come back to the present.”

Shota took in slow breaths and steadied himself. “I can go on,” he said.

“Only if you’re sure.”

He nodded. He wasn’t sure, not really, but he wanted to try. “I can. The Nomu struck Ground Zero, hard enough to send him flying. He hit a street light and didn’t get back up right away. It was… it was going to kill him. Right then and there. There was no way Ground Zero was going to get up in time.

“I had to do something.”

“Even though Ground Zero told you not to engage,” Hound Dog prompted.

“It was going to kill him!” Shota said, more forcefully than he’d meant to. But for just a moment, he’d felt for sure that he hadn’t made a mistake getting involved. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Hound Dog nodded again. “Go on.”

“So I hit it with one of my really big screams. One of the kind where I can rally do some damage. Maybe a little too strong, because I punched a hole right through it. But that still didn’t stop it! All I did was get its attention.”

Dead skin. A pulsating, exposed brain. A hole all the way through its chest, absent any blood or gore. Burns all over its body, one dead eye. And a roar that froze him in his tracks. All it would have taken was one more second and it would have killed him. He’d braced himself for the terrible blow…

“It attacked me. But I was too afraid to move. But by then, Ground Zero had recovered. He didn’t… he didn’t look all that steady on his feet. But he attacked it anyway. And it grabbed him and…”

The wet sound of flesh and muscle and nerves separating. The splatter of blood. The scream…

He was shaking again. Hard. The room seemed too small. He couldn’t breathe. Shota let out a scream that quickly surpassed normal human volumes and went straight into the hypersonic. Everything in the small office began to rattle, being shaken by the radiating sonic force. Hound Dog clapped his hands over his sensitive ears, whining in pain, his jaw clenched tightly behind his muzzle.

The door to the office flew open, and Uncle Shota was there, his Quirk active and eyes glowing red. Shota’s scream faded back into human levels, leaving him coughing. They’d done this on purpose. Uncle Shota had been outside, with a decibel monitor. He couldn’t hear their conversation, but just in case he had lost control, he could step in.

“I’m sorry…” Shota said quietly.

Uncle Shota and Hound Dog exchanged a look.

***

The car pulled to a stop outside a rocky quarry. His godfather was at the wheel, the school counselor, Hound Dog, crammed into the passenger seat. It was Thursday afternoon. They’d ended Wednesday’s after his destructive scream.

He missed his friends so much it hurt. Toshi and Izumi and Asuka and Haimawari… But he couldn’t face them. And he definitely couldn’t face Katsumi. Not with what he’d done to her family…

He got out of the car. He wasn’t sure why they were here, but he trusted Uncle Shota and Hound Dog. He looked at them, expectantly.

Hound Dog and Uncle Shota both held what looked like fancy headphones. “We’re going to try a little scream therapy,” Hound Dog said. “Basically, I want you to focus on all your feelings and emotions about everything that happened. Gather it all up, and then scream and let it go.”

“But,” Shota began, “last time, I lost control and…”

“That’s why we’re here,” Uncle Shota said. “The local government is planning on demolishing this anyway to make way for a new highway and they’ve got a crew with earth-moving Quirks lined up. Anything you destroy, it won’t matter and might even save them some time. But I’m still here just in case. So you don’t have to worry about hurting anyone or anything.”

Shota sucked in a sharp breath. There was fear, bubbling under his skin. Every time he thought too hard about what had happened, his Quirk welled up and turned on everything around him. He’d thought for a minute, just maybe, he was getting to understand it… and then he’d lost control again. And now they wanted him too?

Uncle Shota came over to him and bent down. “Everybody carries their traumas, Shota. Me, Deku, your parents, even Mic. But we have to be brave and face them. And sometimes, facing them is running at them head on. But you’ve got my permission to be afraid. And you’ve got my permission to let it all out, right here. You’ll feel better. Can you do that?”

He nodded. “I… Yes,” Shota said quietly.

“Good,” Hound Dog said, fitting the headphones over his ears, while Uncle Shota did the same. “Take your time. Let your memories go. And when you’re ready… let it all out.”

Shota took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Everything was still so fresh, he could see everything that happened so easily. Still hear it. Still feel the terror of that moment. The coppery scent of blood, the wet stickiness of it on his hands as he tried to keep Ground Zero from bleeding out. The screams of the Nomu. The coldness in his own body as terror took him. The feeling of his heart about to pound out of its chest.

The distant, fading look in Ground Zero’s eyes.

The sound of tearing flash

The dead flesh of the Nomu.

Ground Zero’s scream as he was torn into pieces.

There was so much blood… Ground Zero was dying in his hands. He’d started almost making sense, trying to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, trying to make sure Shota was the one who was safe. But then he’d started to slip away, talking about his husband, about his daughter, and about his son. Asking for them. Telling them he was sorry. He lost track of where he was and of who Shota was…

If Deku had been even a minute or two late in getting there…

Fear

Death

Guilt

Fear

Death

Guilt

FearDeathGuilt

FearDeathGuild

ALL HIS FAULT!

Shota screamed, without focus, without care. For all that he was a carefree young man, he was also deeply aware of the power of his Quirk. Every frequency he could scream at did something just a little bit different, many of them highly destructive. He had to have some control. But here, for the first time in forever, he deliberately allowed himself to just let go. To scream. To let all his power go out into the universe.

As he screamed, he got louder, rapidly shifting up to higher and higher frequencies, way past loud, way past cacophonic, way past anything. The very air around him seemed to ripple and distort, so great was the power that he was unleashing that even the very air itself was being rent asunder. Raw sound slammed into the walls of the quarry, turning rock into dust in an instant, causing yet more to come crashing down.

Shota screamed, putting into it all of his fear, all of his rage, all his frustration, all his guilt. All the hurt, all the pain, everything he was feeling. The world had lost a great Hero and he’d been unable to do anything to stop it. He’d been so scared, so certain he was going to die and then so certain that Ground Zero was going to die. There was nothing more he wanted in this world than to be a Hero, like his parents, like Uncle Deku, like Shoto, and Ground Zero…

And so he screamed. He screamed at the unfairness of it all. At the end of a major Hero’s career. At the terrors that a kid his age should never have seen. At the helplessness he felt. At everything, at all the feelings he couldn’t name and all the terrors that still rose up in his heart.

He screamed and screamed and screamed, until there was nothing left to scream for. Shota sank to his knees, gasping for breath. The air was thick with dust from the demolished rock, sending him coughing. Strong arms wrapped around him and picked him up; it was Uncle Shota.

“You did good,” Uncle Shota said. “Feel better?”

Shota coughed, hard. His throat felt clogged and scratchy. And he felt tired, so very tired. He’d pushed his Quirk to its absolute limit, unleashed its complete destructive power, let every ounce of energy he had flow through it.

“I do,” he said.

And he realized that he meant it. Somehow, in letting all that out, he felt like it wasn’t weighing him down quite so much. Before sleep took him, a moment of clarity set itself in. In stark relief, Ground Zero’s words, Uncle Shota’s words, the events of that day, all played before him. That had been a monster. So many Heroes had nearly died from how powerful they were and that was without his being there. Ground Zero had taken a blow, because the creature was far faster than anything that big should have been, gotten injured because he was trying to fight while still dazed. It was a fight that would have happened no matter what. A fight that could only have happened because he wasn’t killed then and there. What had happened was terrible… but it wasn’t his fault. He had seen far more than he should… but it wasn’t his fault. Forced to bear terrible burdens… but it wasn’t his fault.

Wasn’t his fault…

***

“And then it grabbed Ground Zero and severed his leg from his body,” Shota said. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself and he gripped the arm of the plush chair to keep himself from shaking, but he’d gotten even further along in his statements than ever before. Progress.

“And then I panicked,” he added. “And used a full power blast from my Quirk on it. Completely destroyed it.”

He looked down. “I shouldn’t have. Even if it was a robot, I didn’t know that. A Nomu’s still kind of alive. And Heroes aren’t supposed to use lethal force, unless there’s no other choice.”

Hound Dog nodded. “That probably would have come under review from the Hero Commission. But that’s also typical of big events like this in general. Go on, please.”

Shota took another breath. “After that, I tried to remember what first aid I could for a severed limb. Try to stop the bleeding, put pressure on the wound. Maybe I should have tried calling for help first... but I felt like I had to do something, anything. I was scared and feeling pretty guilty. And I was crying so bad I could barely see straight…

“And then Unc… Deku. Deku showed up. He got Ground Zero to the hospital. Just in time. He saved his life.”

Hound Dog nodded again. “Based on what you’ve said, it sounds like you saved his life too. At least two, possibly three times. What do you think about that?”

Shota hesitated. Ground Zero had said the same thing. He didn’t think he was wrong to get involved. Not anymore. Not completely, anyway. “I think I tried to,” he said. “I know it was going to kill him the first time. Everything after that… I don’t know. Still trying to sort that out.”

“That’s okay,” Hound Dog told him. “You don’t have to have it all figured out now. But that you’re trying to sort it out, rather than simply declaring your own fault, is a sign that you’re becoming ready to deal with those feelings. That’s good. You’re talking more too. And louder. Have you noticed?”

That got a nod. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t know… but maybe letting everything out like that, that helped push me past something.

“…Thank you.”

Hound Dog flashed a small grin behind his muzzle. “It’s my job to help you with your mental health. But you’re welcome.”

The counselor scratched something on the notepad he was holding. “How do you feel about going back to school?”

That was that ten million yen question, wasn’t it? Did he still want to be a Hero? Seemed like had an awful lot of people still believing in him. He’d even checked his phone messages today and gotten one from Red Riot, a photo of Ground Zero doing physical therapy and the simple word “Thanks.” Somehow, instead of making him feel guilty, it made him feel pretty good. Like he’d done something right.

“I’d…,” he began, “I’d like to try. Got a lot of people believing in me. Hate to let them down.”

Again, Hound Dog was silent for a long moment, before he spoke again. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll sign off on it. Welcome back, Mister Shinso.”

***

Carefully, Shota placed the last of his things in the drawer of his dorm room dresser. He had put away his Ground Zero statues though. He didn’t feel much guilt, but he knew that a few days wasn’t enough to get rid of it entirely. One less reminder was probably a good thing for now. He’d probably put them out eventually.

Toshi and his friends had been around to welcome him back. They’d been a little cautious, unsure of what to expect from him. Definitely tiptoeing around what had happened. He didn’t blame them. Of course, if the situations were reversed, he’d probably be more than a little clueless and would have relied on Asuka or Izumi to rein him in. He knew he tended to get a little excitable and not think things all the way through. But they were all happy to have him back. And he’d been missing them so much. Just being around them had made him feel better. Maybe this would be all right after all.

“Hey.”

Shota looked over to the doorway of his room and found Kirishima-Bakugo standing there. She didn’t look angry, which was rare. She didn’t even have that smile she got before she punched something. She just looked worn out and tired. It was a lot like how he felt, really.

“Oh,” he said. “Ah, hi. I’m…”

She held up a hand. “Nope, no talking, Shinso. Not right now.” She was using his name? Just like her dad had…

Kirishima-Bakugo walked into his room, not bothering to ask permission. She looked him over and briefly closed her eyes. He could see her lips moving, as though she was rehearsing what she wanted to say. “Look,” she said, “I’m not good with words, and I definitely don’t need anything interfering with my rep around here. So I’m only going to say this once and you don’t get to tell anybody else about this. Do you understand me?”

Shota nodded. This wasn’t her usual threats or even her banter or sarcasm. This was full on sincerity. He’d never seen anything like this from her before.

Before he could even fully process that, she had her arms around him and pulled him close. He was the shortest in the class, but she wasn’t much taller, just enough so that her chin rested on top of his head. She moved her head slightly, so her mouth was right by his ear.

“Thank you,” she said, “for saving my dad. He told us what you did. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” With every word, she squeezed him tighter.

“Can’t… breathe…” he gasped.

“Oh!” Kirishima-Bakugo let him go. “Sorry, Loud Kid, I… Sorry.”

He felt tears well up in his eyes. “I… I’m…”

“Oh, hell no,” she said, firmly. “No crying. Absolutely no crying… ‘cause if you cry, then I’m gonna…”

They cried. And for a moment, the world was a strange, wet, mixed up place. But after a moment, Kirishima-Bakugo got control over herself.

She gave him a small smile. A true, sincere, and actual smile. Shota thought she should do it more often. It looked good on her. “Glad to have you back, Loud Kid.”

It was good to be back.

#my hero academia #their hero academia #fan fic #fan fiction #my writing #shouta aizawa #mha aizawa #mha hound dog #shota shinso #ryu inui

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pocket-luv101 · 4 years

Text

Across Time|| Chapter 14

Fandom: Servamp Ships: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side) Characters: Kuro, Mahiru, Hyde, Licht

Summary: Mahiru falls into a well and is taken to a new, fantasy world. He comes across a half-blooded cat demon trapped in a tree. After he frees Kuro, he helps him collect the shards of the sacred jewel. (KuroMahi, InuYasha AU)

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10 || Ch.11 || Ch.12 || Ch.13 || (Ch.14) ||

“The castle was here. How can an entire building disappear?” Licht gawked at the deserted land before him. He took Mahiru and the others to Touma’s castle but it was gone. Despite his injuries, Licht insisted they ambush the castle once it was dark. He only took a few days to recover yet the castle had vanished in that time. Even if he the demon left to find another place to hide, the castle should’ve remained.

“Touma must’ve used a spell to trick you like how he made an illusion to make you think we attacked you. He thought ahead enough to hide the location of his castle.” Mahiru reasoned. He could see how frustrated Licht was. He wanted to recover the bodies of his fallen comrades. Licht slid down the crater where the castle once stood and walked to the center.

A part of Mahiru was relieved that they didn’t have to face Touma yet. He was powerful and he could also use illusions to manipulate people. There were four of them now but he wasn’t certain if they could defeat the spider demon. The first time they fought him, they were lucky his power saved him. He needed to train more before he could fully control his spiritual power and summon the shield at will.

“What should we do now?” Kuro asked Mahiru. He appeared uncertain and Kuro understood his feelings. He didn’t want to pressure him and placed his hand on his back. Mahiru relaxed as he rubbed small circles into his back. The gesture was small but the warmth was reassuring. No matter how anxious he felt, he knew everything would be okay with Kuro.

“Touma holds a lot of the shards and we have to take them back. I don’t think we’ll be able to find Touma’s castle easily. He doesn’t seem like the type who would accidentally leave clues to his location. We can draw him out with the shards.” Mahiru decided. “He wants to reform the jewel like we do. He will come for us and we can defeat him then.”

“That will give him more time to collect jewels and hurt people.” Licht argued. He stomped up the crater with a scowl. Mahiru knew that that he was merely impatient to find Touma and he wouldn’t hurt him. He also understood the dangers of not defeating him immediately. His next words punctuated his thoughts. “Look at what he did to my village in one day! Imagine what he could do to defenseless humans.”

“Troublesome.” Kuro groaned. He agreed with Mahiru’s plan but it was clear Licht was too stubborn to be persuaded. He looked up at the moon while the two debated what they should do. In the distance, he heard drums. “There’s a village nearby. I vote we find a room there and argue about this in the morning. Touma and the shards can wait.”

“My brother’s right.” Hyde said. “I don’t want to hear you two arguing all night.”

“It looks like we were outvoted, Licht. We can continue this discussion tomorrow. We’re a team now so I don’t want to fight.” Mahiru walked to his bike where he left it leaning against a tree. He sat on his back and then patted the rack behind him. “Sit here, Kuro. You can point to where the village is while I drive.”

Last night, Kuro comforted him and they talked until the hour grew late. Neither of them had much sleep and he must’ve been tired too. Kuro sat on the back of the bike and leaned against him. Mahiru looked over his shoulder to him. He had his eyes closed and he would’ve drifted off to sleep if Mahiru hadn’t said: “I need you to give me directions, Kuro.”

“Head to the west. Hyde also has sharp senses so you can ask him for directions. Drive slowly and be mindful of your precious cat back here. I don’t want to fall off.” Kuro could feel his warmth when he leaned against his back and he felt so comfortable that he could fall asleep. Mahiru had a lean body but his shoulders were stronger than he thought it would be.

“We might as well be walking if I have to bike slowly. Wrap your arms around me and you won’t need to worry about falling off. Let’s go, Hyde, Licht. It’s already late so we should hurry or else all the rooms will be taken.” He waited until Kuro hugged his waist before he peddled forward. Mahiru biked at a leisurely pace with Licht and Hyde walking behind him.

“I’ve only known you three for a few days now but I see none of you take this journey seriously. I joined you to help collect the shards and get revenge on Touma. I think it might’ve been better if I went after him alone.” He sighed. Since they had buried his family and they were able to enter the cave, he knew they were good people. Licht had reservations though. “The cat is actually sleeping.”

“If you’re jealous and you want to be carried too, I’ll give you a piggyback ride. You can also ride your Nekomata.” Hyde suggested. Licht clicked his tongue and whispered to the small cat demon on his shoulder. They couldn’t hear him but his order was clear when Kirara jumped onto Hyde’s shoulder and bit his ear. “Hey, get this thing off me!”

“Will you two stop? Don’t make me turn this bike around and force you two to camp out here until you get along.” Mahiru huffed. His words made them stop fighting but Kuro had to wonder for how long. “You two needs to learn how to get along if we’re going to fight together. I don’t have time to stop your fights every few hours.”

Licht often fought alongside other demon slayers and trust was an important part of their work. “Tell him to stop provoking me.”

“There’s a festival in the village we’re going to. You two can spend time together and learn to get along.” Kuro suggested. Mahiru’s warmth was comfortable and familiar and he could almost fall asleep but their argument kept him awake. He recalled how simple and tranquil their travels were before Hyde and Licht joined. He was happy to have his brother back though.

As they approached the village, Mahiru could hear cheers and laughter. The festival was more elaborate than he thought it would be. Most of the rural villages they visited were sparse. Lanterns lined the houses and there were stalls for games and goods. Mahiru wondered which holiday it was. Since he came to the feudal era, he lost count of the days.

“Two of us should find an inn while the other two buy supplies for the journey. Let’s meet here in an hour and then enjoy the festival.” Mahiru suggested and stopped his bike. He moved off the bike and lightly nudged Kuro to do the same.

“I can find us a room easily.” Hyde said. When Mahiru took out his coin purse to give him money for the inn, he held his hand up. He had a mischievous grin as he told them, “I know a nobleman in this city. He’s a little paranoid. If I suggest a spirit is lingering in his castle, he’ll let us stay the night to exercise it. I can get a hefty reward as well. You three go ahead and enjoy the festival.”

“I’m going with you, Demon.” They were shocked when Licht stepped forward and grabbed Hyde’s arm. He stopped and looked back to him in confusion. Licht’s frown didn’t change as he said: “I won’t let you lie to a human. We’re going to secure a room without any of your tricks. How often do you use your ruse of a monk like this?”

“It’s not a ruse since I was trained by a monk. Even a demon has spiritual energy they can use. I’m far stronger than other monks since I can use my demon abilities and attacks.” He said. Licht didn’t comment that he hadn’t answered his question or pressed him for more. He doubted he would tell him the truth if he did. He took his hand and dragged him into the village.

Kuro watched them leave and hoped they didn’t start fighting. He sat on the bike as Mahiru walked it through the festival. He scanned the stalls around them and his stomach growled lightly. The sound made Mahiru chuckle and he stopped in front of a food booth. He purchased a plate of takoyaki and held a stick out to Kuro. “Try these. They smell great.”

“Festivals are fun but they’re expensive. I don’t go to them often.” He leaned forward and took a bite. Mahiru blushed slightly when he realized that it appeared like he was feeding him. Despite how flustered the thought made him, he didn’t pull away. He smiled shyly and ate an octopus ball. “Festivals are more elaborate than I remember.”

“But the laughter is the same. It’s charming, isn’t it? In my time, I would help cater festivals like this so it’s nice to enjoy it for once. I almost feel like a teenager again. Then again, I never had to carry my friends on my bike.” Mahiru said and Kuro chuckled at his joke. “I think that stall is selling noodles. What does your brother like? We’ll get something for him too.”

“Cheese and ham.” Kuro told him and thought of the family they once were. “Hyde loves festivals like these. Lily and Hugh did too. It was hard to keep track of all six of them since they enjoyed different things. You can always count on World End being at a food stall though. He’s lucky that he can hide his demon traits easily.”

Mahiru was focused on Kuro so he didn’t notice the people staring at them until Kuro reminded him that he was a demon. He looked around him and found people regarding him with a mix of fear and distrust. He stopped his bike and lowered the bike stand. Kuro was confused when Mahiru took off his white sweater. “Do you want to trade jackets, Kuro?”

The warm smile he wore compelled Kuro to take off his jacket even though he didn’t fully understand his intention. Mahiru placed his sweater on his lap before he shrugged on his red cloak. After Kuro did the same, Mahiru reached up and pulled the hood over his ears. He grinned up at him and scratched his ear beneath the hood. He whispered, “No one can judge you now.”

“I’m used to their stares but… Thank you, Mahiru.” His kindness and compassion warmed Kuro’s heart. People had already seen his ears so he doubted the hood would trick them. He didn’t voice that thought and he pulled the sweater tighter around him instead. Mahiru’s subtle and simple scent clung to the fabric. “Your cloak covers my ears but I might get stares from how strange your clothes are.”

“It’s called a sweater. I don’t think it looks strange on you. If we were in my time and I saw you at a festival, I would give you a complimentary takoyaki.” Mahiru said and fed him another one. He pushed the bike forward and they enjoyed the festival together.

“I bought two rooms for us, Shit Rat. Let’s go back to the entrance and wait for Mahiru.” Licht said as he stepped out of the inn. He ordered Hyde to wait outside because he worried the residents would be frightened by the demon. Hyde could disguise himself as human but someone with spiritual powers could sense his demonic presence.

When he walked outside, he couldn’t see Hyde immediately. Licht’s first thought was that he went to trick the lord like he initially planned. He clicked his tongue and marched forward to stop him. At least he wasn’t attacking the festival like other demons would. He fought many demons and some were as intelligent as Hyde. Yet, he was one of the few who had compassion for humans and protected others.

He didn’t walk far from the inn before he found Hyde. Licht was a little shocked to see him surrounded by laughing children. For a moment, he watched him play a goldfish game. A boy pointed to a fish and Hyde expertly scooped it into a bowl. All of the children had a fish and Licht realized that he had caught them for the children.

“That one next!” Another child asked and Hyde nodded with a small chuckle. He was certain he would spend all of his money on one game if he didn’t stop soon but he handed the stall owner another coin. In the water’s reflection, he saw Licht. He looked up to him with the expectation that he would be angry he didn’t wait like he was told.

Hyde scooped the fish into the bowl and handed it to the child. “Here you go, Kid. I have to go. You all should run back to your mothers before they start to worry.”

He waited until the children were gone before he faced Licht. Hyde expected him to kick him so his next words surprised him. “You’re good with kids but you need to be careful or else they’ll discover that you are a demon. You were using your powers to cheat in the game.”

“Most of these games are rigged so I’m just evening the odds. The stall owner gets money and the kids gets a fish so everyone is happy in the end.” Hyde countered. He was a little impressed that Licht could tell that he used his powers to manipulate the game. Licht was sharper than he thought he would be. He had controlled the water to keep the fish from swimming away.

“We have a place to stay so let’s go. Kirara is hungry.” Licht said and rubbed his finger over the tiny nekomata’s forehead. He had a soft smile as he regarded the cat.

“I’m surprised you have such a dangerous demon as a pet.” The thought had crossed Hyde’s mind several times since they met.

“Kirara isn’t a demon. She’s an angel.” Licht corrected him and his answer made Hyde pause. “I don’t hate demons aside for Touma since he killed my family. As a demon slayer, it’s my job to protect humans from the more savage demons.”

“You’re a strange angel.” He believed he knew the type of person Licht was but he was different than he first assumed. The same thought crossed Licht’s mind about Hyde.

“I think it’s time to meet up with Hyde and Licht. I hope I can leave my bike in our room. It’s tiring to push this everywhere, especially in such a crowded place.” Mahiru said. They walked side by side through the crowded street. Kuro didn’t want to make him push through the sea of people. “After we eat, do you want to come back and enjoy the festival more? We only visited the food stalls so far. I would like to play a few games and win a prize.”

“We passed an archery game and you can easily win that now.” He said and the compliment made Mahiru blush. Kuro glanced down at his face. He thought the rosy hue on his cheeks was from the lantern around them. Mahiru was a little disappointed they couldn’t stay longer but he didn’t know why. He liked Hyde and Licht yet spending time alone with Kuro felt different.

Mahiru’s body stilled when he sensed something familiar. A jewel shard was nearby. At first, he didn’t notice it because he thought the shard he sensed was Hyde’s. He realized the jewel felt slightly different though. He looked around the festival stalls but he couldn’t see its faint glow with so many people crowding them. The festival was peaceful so a violent demon didn’t have it.

“Is something wrong, Mahiru?” Kuro saw a concerned expression pass over his face. He quickly smiled to reassure him. Mahiru didn’t want to worry him when there wasn’t any immediate danger. He hoped he could find the shard by himself without causing a scene. It was possible that a human found the jewel and they didn’t know what it was.

“I saw something that caught my eyes.” Mahiru gestured in the direction he sensed the jewel. He hated to lie to Kuro and he couldn’t meet his red eyes.

“If it’s a prize or something, we can try to win it quickly. I’m sure Hyde and Licht won’t mind that we’re a little late. They managed to not kill each other this long so a few more minutes will be okay. I hope.” He said. Kuro thought his expression was strange but he trusted that Mahiru would tell him if it was something important.

Mahiru nodded and he followed the faint power of the shard. His eyes fell onto a cat mask hanging on a prize wall. Decorating the mask’s forehead was a sacred jewel shard. He was relieved that a demon didn’t have it and he could recover the shard easily. Mahiru asked the woman standing behind the counter: “Excuse me, I would like to play. How many pots do I need to knock down to win that mask?”

After she answered him, Mahiru handed her a few gold coins. He stood behind the line with a ball in his hands. His gaze drift to the mask and he thought the jewel appeared strange. The colour of the shard was a dull purple compared to its usual pink hue. He reasoned that the festival’s lights made the colour appear different. He turned back to the pyramids of pots and tossed the ball.

Mahiru only managed to knock down two of the five pots he needed to win. His second throw missed as well. He looked down at his last ball and sighed, “Why couldn’t this be an archery game? I was never good at baseball.”

“I don’t know what baseball is but I can try.” Kuro offered. Usually, he wouldn’t bother with the games at festivals since he wasn’t competitive and he thought they were a waste of money. But he could see that Mahiru wanted the mask and the determination in his brown eyes pulled at him. He handed him and ball and Kuro stood on the line. He threw the ball and easily broke the pots with his strength.

“You did it, Kuro! That was wonderful. Thank you for winning it for me.” Mahiru clapped and beamed up at him with a smile. His honest glee made him smile as well. The woman handed the mask to Mahiru and he thanked her. He held it in his hand and stared at the jewel shard.

Kuro stood next to him and asked, “Aren’t you going to try it on?”

“I can be a cat like you.” Mahiru joked and slipped the mask over his face. “How do I look?”

He didn’t know how to answer him. While Mahiru said he wanted the mask, Kuro preferred to see him without it. Between his doe eyes and soft smile, he had a beautiful face. His kind personality only highlighted those traits. He realized his thoughts had wandered and he shook his head.

Mahiru walked to his bike and Kuro assumed he intended to go back to the entrance to meet with Hyde and Licht. He was confused when he took out his bow and arrows. His movements were slow and precise as he aimed the arrow. The snap of Mahiru’s bow pushed Kuro out of his confusion and he barely managed to dodge his arrow.

His attack caused a panic and people began to scream. Mahiru didn’t regard the chaos caused by his arrow and nocked another one. Kuro didn’t understand why he would suddenly attack him and his mind raced with questions. “Mahiru?”

He didn’t answer him and released another arrow. Kuro swore beneath his breath and evaded the arrow. He also pushed a boy out of the arrow’s path. He didn’t know what overcame Mahiru but Kuro was certain he would feel terrible if someone was hurt by his arrow. His instincts screamed for him to run to Mahiru but he would be hit by his arrow.

“Mahiru, whatever’s controlling you, fight it!” He pleaded. Since Mahiru had a strong heart, he hoped he could resist the force controlling him. The only thing Kuro could do was dodge and keep the humans from being hurt. He searched the crowd for the scent of a demon who could be manipulating Mahiru. He heard Hyde call his name and Kuro looked towards his brother. A moment later, the sound of Mahiru’s arrow overwhelmed him. He turned around sharply but he knew he couldn’t dodge the attack.

“Sit, Kuro!”

He was dragged to the ground and the arrow flew over his head. The command had saved him from the arrow. Kuro sat up and looked back to Mahiru. He saw his body trembled. “Run, Kuro. I don’t want to hurt you but I can’t control my body anymore. When I put on the mask, I heard this terrible voice telling me to take your shards. Please, just run away from me!”

“I’m not going to leave you, Mahiru. I’ll save you.” He stood and faced him. The pain in his voice tore at his heart and he had to help him. Mahiru said the mask was controlling him so he needed to remove it. Kuro didn’t know if he would be faster than his arrows though. “Hyde, you’re a monk. Do you know about cursed items and how to purify them?”

“I’ve dealt with a few. Whatever is controlling him won’t let us take the mask easily. Even if we stop him, we can’t simply pull it off. I have to purify it.” Hyde said. He took out a few spell tags from his sleeve. “Licht, you and my brother distract him so I can get close enough to the mask and purify it. I don’t want to hurt him but this is the best way.”

“No, don’t harm Mahiru!” Kuro stopped him when he started to chant a spell. He trusted that Hyde wouldn’t injure Mahiru badly but he refused to hurt him. An arrow came between them and his attention turned to him. From how his body shook, he knew Mahiru was doing his best to resist the mask. They didn’t know how much longer he could do so though.

“Why are you two arguing in the middle of a fight? Until either of you can think of a way to remove the mask, focus on protecting the humans.” Licht yelled over them. Since Mahiru had a ranged weapon, it was difficult to close the space between them and stop him. They outnumbered him but no one wanted to fight him. “We can’t wait for him to run out of arrows.”

“I can use my wind tunnel to suck in his arrows. That should stop him for a while.” Hyde loosened the beads from his hand. The crowd had already fled from the festival so he didn’t need to worry that a human would be caught in his wind tunnel. “I’ll close the wind tunnel before Mahiru can be hurt.”

Kuro nodded reluctantly and stepped back. Once they were behind him, Hyde released the seal on his wind tunnel and the vortex pulled Mahiru forward. The arrow slipped from his bow but he kept his footing. Mahiru took another arrow from his quiver yet he didn’t nock it to shot them. He stabbed the arrow into the ground and created a barrier around himself.

“You found a strong mate, Nii-san. I thought you said he was still learning to control his powers.” Hyde said warily. The mask controlled Mahiru and likely drew out the power locked inside him. He bit his lower lip and closed the wind tunnel. “That plan failed. I don’t like our previous plan of dodging his arrows. Even if he uses all of his arrows, he can use his spiritual powers.”

“Kuro,” They turned back to Mahiru when he called his name. “I don’t want to hurt you so please let Hyde perform the exorcism.”

His body moved despite his best efforts to stop himself. Mahiru set his arrow and pulled back the string of his bow. A soft glow surrounded his arrow. His eyes met with Kuro’s and he summoned enough strength to lift his arms so he would shoot his arrow into the sky. The force of the attack knocked him back and broke the barrier around him.

Kuro raced forward and embraced Mahiru so they fell to the ground together. He wasn’t hurt since he placed his hand on the back of his head. His bow slipped out of his hands and he could barely move in his strong arms. Mahiru was relieved to feel his warmth around him. “How can you ask me to run away when you’re in danger?”

I won’t be able to forgive myself if you were hurt. Mahiru didn’t voice the thought because the mask stopped him. While he asked Kuro to help him collect the shards, he never imagined it would be so dangerous. They were able to persevere through everything by protecting each other. Memories of their time together filled his mind and he closed his eyes. I want to protect you because I love you, Kuro.

A light enveloped them and Mahiru heard a small crack. The mask split in two and fell off his face. Kuro cupped his cheeks and looked into his brown eyes. They stared at each other for a moment and then Mahiru hugged him. He stroked his brown hair in return and whispered: “Thank goodness, Mahiru.”

“Where did you two find this mask?” Licht’s words came between them and they pulled away from each other. He didn’t notice how tense Mahiru and Kuro were since he was focused on the mask. He turned the broken pieces in his hands to examine it. “There’s a jewel shard on the mask. It must’ve made the curse more powerful. I didn’t notice the shard before because it was tainted.”

“The jewel has been purified. If only you did that sooner, Mahiru.” Hyde used his sword to break the mask further until he could remove the jewel. “For someone to manipulate the souls in the sacred jewel, they must be a powerful person.”

Mahiru stared at the shard that had returned to its previous pink hue. “I didn’t recognize the voice who made the curse. They ordered me to take Kuro’s jewel though. Do you think the person could be working with Touma?”

“We can worry about that later. How do you feel, Mahiru?” Kuro asked in a worried voice. “Let’s go back to the inn to rest.”

“I don’t know if they’ll let us in after the mess I made.” He joked but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Mahiru glanced at the festival around them and bit his lip. He felt Kuro’s warm hands around his and he felt less nervous. He was glad that he didn’t leave him.

“Kuro, are you awake?” Mahiru leaned over his sleeping bag and lightly shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes and sat with a small groan. They had decided to camp in the forest. It was dark but he came awake when he saw the conflicted expression Mahiru had. “Are your wounds bothering you, Kuro?”

“I wasn’t hit by your arrows and that light you used to purify the shard didn’t hurt me.” He told him. Kuro looked into his eyes and saw that there was something more he wanted to say. “Is it about the jewel shard? You can sense them so you must’ve known that the mask had a shard.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it.” He apologized.

Kuro wasn’t upset like he thought he would be. He gently tilted Mahiru’s face back to him and said, “I can guess why you didn’t. You wanted to deal with it on your own but that’s troublesome. Rely on me.”

“Okay. I was just afraid I was relying on you too much and becoming a burden. I want us to be equal partners on this adventure.”

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #lawlicht #greed pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #servamp hyde #licht jekylland todoroki #fanfiction

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Ninety: Across the River ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Mikoto ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: River Runs Deep ] [ AO3 Link ]

(This is a sequel to days 60, 77, 140, 165, and 189!)

For what is now the third time - and what may very well be the last - Uchiha Sasuke makes his way out of the fog and jagged peaks of the northern mountains. Beside him is his father, expression taut with thought and worry. They have come from the strange god-village hidden within the range, and have news to bear to their clan.

For weeks now, the Uchiha - whose line has long produced warriors and samurai to project their lord - have been on the run, with a new enemy on their heels. With their lord and master defeated, they were declared criminals under the new ruler, and were forced to flee their homes or face extermination.

They made it through the imposing mountains that lie along the northern edge of their old lands, hoping the terrain would slow or even stop their pursuers. It was then that - in the mist - Sasuke found himself lost...and stumbled upon a strange, almost ethereal valley. There, he met a miko who claimed to speak to a god. He was released and found his way to his people, only to be forced back into the peaks to chase down a traitor. Sasuke did so...and found himself face to face with the valley’s protector. She warned him of his trespass, but was held at bay by her miko, who suggested that it was his fate to find them.

And now, after bartering with the dragon god, Sasuke has been granted passage of his clan into the valley, to fall under the spirit’s protection. Itachi, who accompanied them, has stayed behind to be tended to for his persistent illness. The only question that remains is how to convince the others not only of the truth of their travel...but that their best chance for peace and survival is to join the other lost humans - abandoned by both men and gods alike - in the strange valley between the planes.

Fugaku, Sasuke is sure, is already trying to form the argument in his mind. Though Japan was long a land of kami and faith, the bonds between man and god have faded. Not many carry the old ways with them...and convincing some of their kin may be easier said than done.

But he knows that this is their best chance. The respite they’ve gotten past the mountains cannot be guaranteed to last. There may yet be hunters on their tail, seeking them past the border. And though they have mighty warriors among them, they are few, and weary. If they are to be safe...they must hide in a place where no one will ever find them.

“Your mother is going to have my hide when she realizes we left your brother there,” Fugaku eventually mutters, breaking the silence long held between them.

“She’ll soon know why. And I think of all of us...she’s the most faith left in her heart.”

“Even so...she’ll know no peace until she sees him again.”

“I’ll keep her calm.”

“The others may think us mad.”

“It’s a risk we have to take. You know the safety we’ve found is only temporary. But this...this will be forever.”

“...I hope you are right.”

They eventually find the camp among the bluffs, and any nearby eyes lift to behold them. Questions then flood as Uchiha surround them, eager to know where the patriarch and his sons have been.

But most demanding of all is the matriarch.

“Gods, I’ve had no rest with you gone!” she declares, parting the crowds to behold them. “Shisui would tell me nothing! Only that you’d granted him rank while you went back into those accursed mountains! Fugaku, what -?” Her eyes flicker to Sasuke. “...where is Itachi?”

“...Mikoto, I -”

“Where is my son?!”

“He’s safe,” Sasuke cuts in, gently taking his mother by the shoulders. “He was too weary, and is waiting for us.”

“Waiting? Waiting where? What is going on?”

“A moment’s peace, and I will explain,” Fugaku replies, tone tinged with exasperation. “...please.”

She quiets, jaw still firm.

“...when he was separated from us during our flight over the mountains, Sasuke stumbled upon a village within a large valley. A hidden, remote place. One I believe will house us, and hide us. The...matriarch of the village has granted us passage to join them, if we wish. But on one condition. Once we settle there...we cannot leave, and take its secret with us. I realize that some of you may not be...at ease with such an idea. And I understand. Therefore...I will take those of you who wish to go with me. The rest...I will release to forge your own paths. Renounce your name if you wish, to find peace.”

“You really trust a tiny mountain village to house us?” a man asks, brow furrowed.

“The valley is large, there is room for expansion. We will have to make our own way...but it would be so wherever we go. It’s a plentiful place - Sasuke has seen much of it with his own eyes.”

“What makes it so safe? If your boy found it without intending to, what’s to stop other marauders from doing the same?”

It’s then Fugaku hesitates, looking to his son for help. It’s now or never.

Stepping forward, Sasuke draws the eyes of his kin. “...this valley is not just a place where humans dwell. Within it is a mighty river...and in that river, protecting the people, is a mizuchi. A mighty dragon spirit named O-Suigin-sama. It was she who gave me protection, and allowed me to return.”

Murmurs immediately break out. “You claim you saw a god?” “Impossible! The gods have abandoned us!” “The boy’s lost his mind!”

“I, too, saw this divine beast,” Fugaku cuts in, begetting silence. “...as did Itachi. It is with she he remains to be cured of his illness. She is a spirit of health, and life. She takes those abandoned by the world, and shelters them. Cares for them. Sasuke has persuaded her that we, too, need her protection: abandoned by our lord and left for dead. If you choose not to believe...I cannot force you. Nor will I drag you there against your will. But I believe Sasuke is right. The mountains have bought us time...but not enough. Sooner or later, our enemies will find us. And they will outnumber us. But if we make our homes in this valley, with the protection of a god...we may at last find peace, and safety. And that...is what I want for my people. For my family. For my sons.”

“...we have been given time to make a decision,” Sasuke murmurs in the pervading silence. “And I ask you use it. Don’t jump to conclusions, or act on a whim. This is our future we’re debating. You may think us mad. You’ve every right to. But I give you my word, I know what I saw. And this place...it’s everything we need. Everything we could ever want. And I wish only for my people to be safe. To no longer have to run, or fear for our lives. Our home was lost to us...but we have a chance to forge a new one. Grander, and safer than ever before. When we are ready...the god’s messengers will guide us through the peaks.”

“We barely survived making it over the first time! We’ll surely perish if we go back!” a woman speaks up, anxiously clutching her infant.

“When we were running through these mountains, we were blind and afraid, in a foreign land. But this time we will be guided, with a god’s fortune. We will not be led astray.”

Glancing to his son, Fugaku murmurs, “...take time to think. Such decisions cannot be made lightly. When a consensus is reached...those who wish to accompany us will part from those who wish to leave. And a new path will begin.”

After an uncertain pause, the clan disperses, mutterings and mumblings loud in the air. Expression almost gaunt with worry, Mikoto asks, “...is this truly the right decision?”

“We can’t run forever,” her husband rumbles lowly. “Any other village may hold a threat. But here...I believe we will be safe.”

“Sasuke, you truly saw it? This village, and the god that guards it?”

“I did.” With his tongue no longer bound by secrecy, he tells her what he saw the day he returned: the houses, the shops, the bridges across the river...the clear air, the tall trees, and the beautiful shrine on the mountaintop.

“The dragon was the most fearsome and yet...graceful creature I’ve ever beheld. And her miko is a woman with eyes that can see into the plane of the gods. An all-seeing white eye, she called it.”

“...she claimed to be a Hyūga,” Fugaku offers quietly.

At that, Mikoto’s eyes widen. “...you’re sure?”

“Who are the Hyūga?” Sasuke interjects.

“They were another samurai clan, you could call them a rival of ours. But they were scattered as we were when another lord conquered their lands several decades ago. That there are still some about is...curious,” Mikoto replies. “And yet, in a way...I can understand why they would end up in such a place.”

“There was another, a man who looked near our age. He had the same eyes…”

“They were a very spiritually-devoted family. Perhaps they really could see gods…”

“Well...you can meet her when we return,” Fugaku offers.

“...then we will really go?”

“If you agree,” he replies.

“...I want my sons to be safe,” she whispers. “For that, I will do anything, go anywhere.”

“...then we shall go. But until the others are firm in their minds, we must wait.”

“The god is really attending to Itachi?”

Sasuke nods. “The miko claimed her talents lie in healing. The camphor trees that grow all over the mountains are medicinal.”

“The kami’s influence, maybe?”

“He’s in good hands. I’ll wager he’ll be fit when we see him again,” Fugaku offers gently. “But Sasuke and I should rest - the hike is tiring.”

“Will it be safe?”

“You need to be cautious, but it’s sound enough.” With that, Sasuke’s parents head toward their tent, speaking lowly to one another.

Watching them go, Sasuke startles a hair when a weight settles on his shoulder. One of the owls gives a soft screech of greeting.

“Here to keep watch?” he asks, receiving a gentle nibble on his ear in response. “I beg your patience. This is a big decision for them...we’ve already been so uprooted. How is my brother?”

Another nibble.

“...good. I think I’ll rest. Do as you will - until we have an answer...we’ll just have to wait.”

.oOo.

More kami verse! And more sort of...transitional stuff, my bad ^^; I thought I'd get a bit farther and have more HInata, but between some life stuff, it being late, and just...not wanting it to drag on too long, I thought I better stop where I did. NEXT TIME! lol Trying to convince your clan that you really DID see a dragon and you're NOT crazy and that you have to go BACK into the big scary mountains iiisn't easy. Hopefully between Sasuke and his dad, they'll get at least most of their people to take their word for it and head to the valley and live happily ever after*. But at least MIkoto is on board. The rest...we'll have to see. But yes, it's...very late, and I really need to sleep, so! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #uchiha fugaku #uchiha mikoto #river runs deep [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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kawaiigirlgoingghost · 5 years

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Ouija boards 2

I originally wanted to post about the Ouija board itself 💕 Before I even begin to consciously put that description out into the universe I really REALLY feel the need to stress the reasons you should not be using an Ouija board or spirit board in general 😓

I want to preface this with the fact I am aware people have good experiences with Spirit boards and Ouija boards. 😮 I, 100%, acknowledge that as a fact- sometimes you do get good spirits that come through. I do want to make note of- you aren't speaking with any angels. You aren't speaking with divine good. I'm gonna say 9/10 you get someone more malevolent that means you harm or wants something from you. 😔

If you are deciding to use a spirit board I really want you to not only keep how to use it in mind, but the consequences of using a board as well 😳

This was suppose to go up more edited on Wednesday at around 5:20, I'm not good with tumblr and probably messed using the queue up. I apologize for that. I am leaving my wording how it was posted in the main body. I use "Demons" loosely as more malevolent spirits, although they are really not the same imo. I want to note really briefly- that my experiences are not yours, for all I know most people probably take my posts like they are just stories to read. I'm fine with that and happy I entertain in some form. My experiences are mine. They cant be valued more than your own paranormal experiences to other people. I'm not here to debate with the paranormal community, I'm here to help out regular people who believe in next to none of this. It may not be for you.

The most IMPORTANT thing to note is- You have absolutely no clue what you are talking to. 😤 You have no clue the reason behind this entity contacting you, no idea as to what the intentions are and no real way to delegate a conversation with entities. You can ask it questions, yah sure, you get some answers, but that doesn't mean you get answers to the questions you ask.

There is a responsibility and energy you carry as an individual using an Ouija board. The brighter you shine the more entities you'll attract. (Moth to a flame so to speak) You are fully responsible for what you attract and what you let in.

You are also responsible for opening a door you cannot close. A lot of people do not accept responsibility when they mess up with things pertaining to the spirit board among other ways to contact the other side. It's a door you opened, along with anyone else who used the board. Please take responsibility for that door.

You are also responsible for the people you participate with. You are responsible if something happens to them, you are responsible if something follows them, you are responsible if they get hurt, and you are responsible if they die.

If you open a door, you should figure out what kind of damage control you can do. It's not something you can close back up 9.5 times/10. In my opinion, that space now has an invisible open door way for things to come in and out at their will. It's pandora's box and you opened it. That is your problem to now attempt to control. Moving sometimes doesn't help you, things will follow you if it is attached to you. If you sell a home with the KNOWLEDGE you OPENED something you can not close or control and you put other people unknowingly into that space where harm can come to them, just know you'll get burned for that. If you leave an apartment/home/townhouse because you opened something and refuse to take care of it, just know you passed the responsiblity you took when you decided to use a spirit board onto other innocent people who have no clue what happened in the space. You are sending them a situation, completely blind.

There are PLENTY of resources, first hand accounts, and books on the subject of why you shouldn't be messing with one. It's never worth it and the risks greatly outweigh the benefits.

I just feel like I should say this specifically. If you go to an Ouija board for lottery numbers, personal, or financial gain- just know that will come back and bite you 10 fold. Sometimes when I was little, we did not have food in the house. My mother never saw that as a way to survive and you shouldn't either. It's not going to gain you anything but a black mark on your spirit because maybe someone needed that lottery number more than you did. You're making a conscious effort to manipulate the universe to your own will to only benefit yourself. It's not just morally wrong, it's not just selfish (in some cases) you are opening up a line of communication with the demonic specifically. The demomic always call back for their "payment" whatever it may be.

You can gain almost nothing from a spirit board secession but something now in your space. I've seen some secessions have next to no information gained and a waste of 4 hours because time got lost. I say time got lost for a reason. Sometimes you just get bs'd for a few hours and tbh I think that's kind considering what you're probably speaking with.

You can easily open yourself up and become possessed. No one believes this because it's not something you hear everyday but it can happen. Even if it's for a fraction of a second. The end goal for them is to obtain a vessel. If you become their vessel do you think that demon is going to personally care it's using YOUR body as that vessel? I'm here to tell you that no, it probably does not and yes it can happen to you or even me. They do not care you have grandmas funeral tomorrow or mac and cheese you to make for the cook out next week.

Demons lie. If you didn't know they lie pretty often. They can change form and change their story. Most of the time they don't care to keep their stories consistant. They can tell you fact about things only you and your bestfriend know. They can lie and say they were alive. You can't make them tell the truth either!

I would do your own research on whether or not this is a good decision for you personally. If you do this in your home, wouldn't you feel bad if it broke someones favorite thing? Or hurt someone you love? Or for god sakes something harms your animals? Do you think things from the other side care about your cat/dog/lizard? They do not. I would NEVER EVER want to see my cat harmed due to making a decision like that. There are risks, rewards and consequences when using this as a tool to communicate to the other side. The universe would not make you use an Ouija board to speak to your dead family members that you miss dearly. I don't believe the universe to be that cruel.

Some demons see the use of an Ouija board as a direct challenge. They will invite themselves in if its powerful enough.

These things also go for any demonic game. I'm sure many demons use the midnight man ritual as a means to get out into the open, or invited in.

Also if you use your blood for any demonic game or put it onto an Ouija board- its now attached to you. 🤷‍♀️ you used your blood as a binding contract to whatever decided it wanted your blood. You let your blood be up for grabs and something took it. Don't put it out there in the first place. You can't escape those sort of things, if you can its very difficult to accomplish.

You don't have to be religious for 'demons' to show up. I don't consider myself a part of any certian denominations of Christianity. To some degree, there is proof certian demonic energies become reactive around Christian idols, Christian artifacts and Christian Churches. That is any denomination of Christianity- I'll try to really dive deep into that over the next few weeks to give you a better idea with facts.

Those are the main reasons I can give you as to why using a spirit board really gets you nowhere. 😅 I think the main thing a spirit board ends up doing is it scares a lot of people away from the other side and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to anyone, especially something as avoidable as this. You have to make reasonable and responsible choices when using tools to contact the other side. I believe deceased family members come into your dreams to see you or they'll come to your home and visit you. They won't make you use an Ouija board. That's just the way I believe though- 😅

Again as always, if you have an questions, concerns, thoughts, my DMs are always open and I'm willing to answer any questions you guys have! 💕💕 I'll always try to point you in the right direction and help you to the best of my ability!

Anyway-

kawaiigirlgoingghost out

#ouija planchette #ouija board #ouija #spirit #spiritual #spiritguide #paranormal #other side #other realms #demon #demonic

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allforthecourtt · 5 years

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rereading aftg with my dumbass opinions pt. 2 (tfc chapters 6-10)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

look guys! its the highly unanticipated continuation of my reread of aftg!

chapter 6 (aka. meet this MESS of a team)

“My mother's family is French." It was a lie that probably had his British mother rolling over in her sandy grave.”

neil really never misses an opportunity to remind readers that he fucking buried his mom on the beach huh?

“A liar who practices occasional honesty. Clever. Keeps people guessing. Very effective. I would know. I do it myself, you see. Come on, then. After you.”

have i mentioned how entertaining high andrew is? because he’s funny as hell

also rereading these are fun because Nora is incredible at foreshadowing just sayin

“Neil automatically reached for his seatbelt, but one of the brothers was sitting on it.”

how neil would be in the back of the cousins’ car if they let him:

“You?" Neil said. "You can't." Andrew's smile curved wider. "Ohhh, that sounds like a challenge. Mother may I?" "Your mother's dead. I don't think she cares what you do.”

HO HO HOLY SHIT NEIL

“Starting a fight was too out of character for who he portrayed "Neil” to be, though.”

“Consider this your official invite, you suicidal wretch. I'm bringing you to Columbia with us this Friday.”

awe suicidal wretch... glad they’re starting those pet names early

“I don't drink or dance," Neil said.

andrew: i kno u can

“Kevin doesn't dance anymore”

anymore? ANYMORE??? release the cursed events that led to him not dancing anymore Nora im begging you

“Are you bleeding anywhere?" Matt asked. "Nowhere vital," Neil said.

gskjgnsak god i stan this little asshole so much

“She said it gently, with the hint of a smile on her face, but Neil still felt the rebuke. It was subtler but somehow deadlier”

have i mentioned how gay i am for renee? because im very gay for renee

“Allison looked ready for a photo shoot with perfect platinum curls, spiked heels, and a skintight dress.”

im also gay for allison ngl

“I can move if you want to sit here," Neil said. "No, this is fine." She smiled, but it had a smug edge to it, probably because Seth was glaring at them like he could kill them with willpower alone. ”

lol remember how neil doesn’t think he’s attractive and yet in 0.1 seconds after meeting him allison is like “yes this idiot is hot enough to piss off the other idiot im dating”

“Personal favorite was when someone told the police we were running a meth lab out of the dorm," Dan said sourly. "Police raids are awesome.”

no offence dan but that’s fucking hilarious omg

that’s kind of like the time my residence floor had to get evacuated bc some kids hotboxed their dorm room

god i love uni

“The death threats were creative, though," Nicky said. "Maybe this time they'll follow through and actually kill one of us. Let's vote. I nominate Seth.”

pfffffttttt i love Nicky omg

also hahahahahah foreshadowing!

“It'll be fine," Andrew said. "I promised, didn't I? Don't you believe me?" It took a while, but at last Kevin visibly relaxed. ”

again this is why i thought they were fucking for like the better part of the first two books

“The dead look Kevin turned on Andrew today was the same look Neil saw in his reflection. When Neil stopped acting, when he stopped worrying about who was watching, when he let go of the lies that kept him alive, that was the only expression he could make.”

it’s fine i didnt need a heart anyways

this kid is 18 hes A BABY

the first time i read this i was 18 too and like jfc i was a BABY at 18 and so i neil

“One of us has to make it, Mom." It wasn't going to be Neil. It was obvious he was too stupid to survive without his mother if he let himself get into messes like this. But maybe Kevin could do it.”

sorry let me just wipe my TEARS off my fucking laptop neil honey what the fuck

“He felt distant as he watched them walk in. Maybe he was already dying, his stupid soul fading from his short body in preparation for a brutal end.”

neil we get it you have depression (me too bitch u aint special)

“Fuck running," Seth said.

now that’s a whole ass mood

“he didn't know how Renee could smile so warmly when she was speaking to Andrew.”

haha bitch just wait

“when he slept, he dreamed of his father waiting for him on the Foxhole Court.”

remember how at the end of the series his father is waiting on the court but neil wins??? god we love good storytelling

this is such a fucking wild chapter

could you imagine? coming back from the summer and your first introduction to this amateur from arizona is this neil josten level of sass? because i’d probably kill him

first years are bad enough but first years who dont care about other people’s opinions? the fucking worst

chapter 7 (aka. neil does NOT have a fun night out)

“It seemed Allison and Seth didn't believe in middle ground: either they were slinging vile insults at each other or they were making out in the locker room regardless of whoever might be around.”

that’s just how the straights are

“It reminded Neil a little of Allison and Seth, except without the desperate sexual undertones.”

i’ll just leave this gem of a line here

“His teammates held so little regard for him he didn't even have the dubious honor of being dead last.”

neil shading himself is actually hilarious how relatable

“Neil watched him do it, trying to remember the last time someone gave him a gift and coming up blank. That his first one should be from Andrew was unsettling.”

i actually love the fact that andrew bought him clothes so early on like andrew your gay is showing

“Neil debated how much damage the thick heels of his new boots would do against Andrew's face and liked what his mind came up with.”

i thank god everyday that these books are neil’s pov

“Andrew gave Neil another slow once-over and let go. "We're going.”

^andrew seeing neil w/o contacts (aka. the ‘i can’t think straight’ vine)

“Most of the men wore leather, half the women had corsets, and a good number of both genders were covered in buckles and chains.”

this... is a... gay bar

“Andrew saluted the bouncers on his way by and led the way into the club, bypassing the line entirely.”

i always forget the drinking age in the us is 21 but like this bar really dont care about their liquor license AT ALL lmao

“You think Kevin would risk his future over a night out at the club?" "What future?" Neil asked.”

WOW NEIL WAY TO BE A BITCH

“Neil hadn't seen Aaron get up, but he was waiting behind Neil when Andrew let go. Neil reached for Andrew with lethal intent, but Aaron grabbed the back of his chair and pulled hard enough to topple it over.”

why are the twins literally this gif:

real talk nicky kissing neil like that is horrible and really reflects poorly on nicky as a character

andrew for this entire chapter:

chapter 8 (aka. a hitchhiker’s guide to lying about your identity)

“I don't know how your conversation with Andrew went, but it didn't end well. Rumor has it you paid a busboy a hundred bucks to knock you out. Way to cut our night short.”

this is probably my favourite thing neil does in the entire series ngl

“Wymack grabbed his elbow and hauled him inside. He slowed just long enough to slam the door behind Neil. "Are you stupid or just crazy? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you between here and there? What were you thinking?”

Why does Wymack literally sound like my father?

foxes: daddy?

wymack: DO I LOOK LIKE

follow up:

kevin: daddy?

wymack: uh yeah

“I don't know what the beef is between you two, but it ends here and now.”

Wymack @ neil: tell your boyfriend, if he says he’s got beef that your a vegetarian and your not fucking scared of him

“Then correct me." "Give me a reason." "Besides the obvious?" Andrew said. "If I can't get an answer from you, I'll get it wherever I can.”

andrew:

“I'm—" Neil didn't want to say it, but the word was already there, broken and pathetic between them, "—nothing. I'll always have and be nothing.”

“He wondered for a moment if Andrew could handle the entire truth so calmly, but that was too dangerous and stupid to consider.”

“Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it.”

this is such a good fucking line like i am shooketh

chapter 9 (aka. neil is, like, really horny for exy)

“Are you stupid?" Seth asked. "Yeah," Neil said.”

what a fuckin MOOD

“Neil had almost forgotten why he liked Exy so much. He did his best at practices but these days he worked mostly to keep his teammates off his back. As Neil surveyed Kevin's damage, he finally felt inspired again. On its heels was a hungry, desperate rush.”

“Seth made as if to throw his beer at Neil. "His life is not more important than mine just because he's more talented.”

sometimes i really wish seth was actually given a chance to have some character development

“ "Maybe you're not as stupid as I thought." "Maybe I am," Neil said”

another big fucking MOOD

chapter 10 (aka. shocking: university is hard :/ )

“It's fun telling Kevin no," Andrew said with a wicked grin.”

why is andrew like this omg

betsy probably was like just looking for a chill job and was like “oh cool uni students? ill have to deal with like a lot of anxiety, sexual tension, depression and like confusion about the future, not to bad” but NOPE welcome to the fucking MAFIA WARS

“That wasn't so bad, was it? Andrew was convinced it would be a disaster. He put money on you hating Betsy." "Did you bet against him?" "Yes," Renee said. "It was a private bet between the two of us.”

“I hope you didn't lose much," Neil said.”

god why is he such an asshole at every opportunity i love him

“I can take care of myself," Neil said. "Watch me beam with pride.”

wymack is the best father in the world and you cant convince me otherwise

“There was one for every fall team with schedules printed on each. Neil kept the Exy one, tossed the rest into the trash, and buried his magnet deep in his pocket where he didn't have to look at the dates.”

neil “i only care about exy” josten strikes again with his great school spirit

“Palmetto State was facing Edgar Allan on Friday, October 13th”

that’s such a cliche and i love it

“He detoured around students toward one of Palmetto State's three dining halls. Two were for the general student body. The third was for athletes only”

lmao my school literally has one dining hall and it couldnt give less of a fuck what type of student they’re selling food too as long as they’ll pay $15 for chicken fingers

what kind of money does palmetto state fuckin have

like i get us tuition is a lot but jesus so’s mine and my school couldn’t be less fucked

“It was only the first day of school and he already had three assignments: a short paper, a fifty-page chapter to read, and a page of questions about said chapter. Neil debated for a minute as to which one sounded least painful. Five minutes later he was still uninspired, so he put his head down on his desk.”

1. MOOD

2. first years are so cute thinking that’s a lot of assignments i remember in first year being like “i have to read 40 pages thats so unfair :(” and now i’m like “ah sick only 200 pgs of readings this week? im gonna have so much free time!”

upper year history sucks ngl

“I'm fine," Neil said.”

neil knows exactly two (2) words and those are it

“You say that an awful lot," Matt said. "I'm starting to think you don't know what it means.”

overall thoughts:

the plot is pickinnnng upppp

i kind of forget how much world building happens in the first book but like its good

also i love neil literally hating everyone its so funny bc like bby these going to be your best friends just wait

anyways that’s all for now

part 3 will be the rest of tfc and then we’ll move onto trk if you guys still want more of this? let me know

love u all bye

#rereading aftg

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blackcat-in-the-rain · 5 years

Text

Writing your Craft

going through the list created by @baduhennasraven

1. What draws me to witchcraft?

I’ve honestly always been drawn to it, even before I knew the word for it. It just always made sense to me from a very young age.

2. How do I see the divine?

I believe that there are many spirits, energies, Gods, and Goddesses in the world. People have connections to them, and often it’s to one particular or more that are their patron Deities.

3. What in witchcraft makes me happy?

When I’m able to help others by giving them a spell or by knowing.

4. Do I want to follow a path that has to do with a little nature, or a lot of nature?

I follow a path that has a good deal to do with nature.

5. What areas of witchcraft would I like to learn more about?

I’m not very good at knowing plants and their properties

6. Where do my witchy talents lie?

My talents lie more in things I don’t have any control over like reading minds and just knowing things. But i’m also good with spirit sensing and divination

7. What kind of deities, if any, do I want to honor?

My patron Goddess is the Morrighan

8. How do I believe magic works?

Through will and energies, everything is connected by threads and with the right energies you can manipulate them or read them.

9. Simple or elaborate spells/rituals? Why?

Depends on the reason. Though sometimes the more simple spells can cost the most energy (says the Witch who fell asleep during her last ritual because she asked for a vision). Really, whatever it takes to get your energies up and flowing and working for you.

10. What are my views on cursing/hexing?

Do it.

11. Do I want to practice something similar to my ancestors?

I don’t know what they practiced... but I do want to talk to my Grandma before her memory goes anymore. She often used to talk about how she and I were sensitive, but I was never given the opportunity to look into what she means by that.

12. What are the basic morals and ethics I feel I should live by?

The world is harsh enough, I can be a gentle force within. However I also believe in “don’t fuck with the Witch” mentality.

13. What in nature am I drawn to; the ocean, animals, the trees, etc?

Rain, the moon, stones, animals, rivers, shadows, and fire.

14. Which (witchy) holidays, if any, would I like to celebrate and how?

I want to celebrate more of them

15. How do I believe divination works?

It’s like a spider web, I am currently reading your current path (tarot cards). If we want to discuss changes I need to pull out my oracle cards though as those are the only ones that I can get to talk about different possibilities.

16. Would I like to work with a group some of the time, all of the time or not at all?

I suppose this leads me to my insecurities. I enjoy working with groups even though they make me second guess myself on some things. So most of the time I like working by myself in the dead of the night like I used to growing up.

17. Which aspects of witchcraft appeal to me most, which the least?

The most: controlling myself and the weird things I have done. The least? Memorizing certain plants and their properties and which ones combined together is a no go.

18. What do I believe happens to us when we die?

I think that depends on which Deities you’re attached to. If you’re attached to someone like the Abrahamic God then you have the heaven hell debate. However I believe I’ll be going through reincarnation.

19. How do I see mythological creatures?

Some of them are cryptids that we just haven’t found yet. Some of them are energies and spirits.

20. When do I feel most magical?

When I’m walking barefoot in the rain feeling everything around me as the rain soaks into my clothes and weighs it down.

There’s one memory that I have where I was dancing in the rain in the trailer park when I was 11. I had skipped into my prettiest dress and went twirling in it, and just singing into the wind and feeling the electric pressure of the storm. Only to suddenly stop. Make eye contact with a black cat and was watching me. Upon seeing me looking at it, the cat got up and slowly crossed the road with me watching and then disappeared into the shadows going into the backyard of our trailer home. That is a moment in my mind filled with magick.

21. How much is witchcraft woven into my daily life; is this too much, too little or just enough?

I think it’s too little. I don’t really have a daily devotion as I’d like. I have an emergency witch kit in my car, but it is in need of updating and replenishing.

22. What kind of witch do I feel I am?

I don’t know... probably closer to a HedgeWitch. A little urban, a little thrift, a little nature based. I’m trying to go through traditional training and they want me to focus on Divination.

23. Which texts/quotes best describe my current path?

I honestly can’t think of any.

24. Do I like research and gathering info, or do I like things handed to me?

I mean... who doesn’t like things being handed to them? But I think I like something in the middle, I like researching and drawing my own conclusions, but often I have trouble finding resources to go through. I have a strange problem where I’ll try and try to search for something and then someone else searches it with me right there. Same words. And NOW the item in question pulls up for them. I think it has to do with my initials being EMP by birth and I have had many instances where I lived up to it.

25. Which things about witchcraft worry or scare me?

Not being ready in the case of emergency. I’ve been a Witch for 25 years and I feel woefully unprepared should there be demon activity.

26. What is my favourite element?

Water is probably my favorite element, despite my fear of big bodies of water and the times I’ve almost drowned.

27. How do I see gender (roles) in witchcraft?

Meh. What gender roles. I see them more in the lines of defense and offense. Archetypes! The Healer, the Fighter, the Seer, the Thief, etc.

28. Am I interested more in magic, or spirituality?

To me they’re more or less the same thing. I need to know more about the Morrighan for my spirituality, but I have many gaps in my knowledge of magick as well.

29. Do I like to be told how to do things, or would I rather figure it out on my own?

For science! Magickal science. Figure things out and let things blow up in my face so I get a feel for what should be handled how.

30. What rules, if any, do I live by when it comes to witchcraft and magic?

Don’t ask if you’re not ready for the consequences.

31. What do I gain from witchcraft and magic?

Feeling more in touch with myself.

32. Formal or informal rituals/spells? Why?

Depends on the occasion. I go very formal for Coven rituals/spells because then it’s uniform between all of us. I go informal for stuff by myself because it’s how I feel my relationship with the spirits are.

33. What subject do I love to study?

Silly as it is, I love creatures. Cryptids, spirits, mythological creatures. All the legends and the stories.

34. What is my favourite type of magic; candle, sympathetic, sigils, etc?

Color magic is my favorite fall back. That way I can see how I’m feeling and work some magic into the cloth of what I’m wearing that day. Not feeling good? Pulling out the grey for some invisibility magick.

35. What would my perfect witchy day be like?

Waking up to it raining, eating breakfast and drinking a warm drink while watching it fall with my kitties curled up next to me. Going to run some errands and help a few strangers along the way. Go for a walk late at night and feel the lingering thrum of the storm and smell the richness that is left behind, kind of exposing the wounds of my environment so I can experience it’s health for myself. Then curl up with the kitties eating something tasty while watching some Witchy media.

36. Would I want to be dedicated/initiated?

Have been. Honestly it’s not all that, but I do like my Coven members.

37. Who do I honor (ex: deities, ancestors, myself, etc), and how do I, or would I like to, honor them?

I really want to get some kind of daily devotion going for the Morrighan. But I also should get a self care ritual going so I can start the healing process and mending my spirit and physical self.

38. How do I create a sacred/witchy space?

I sing. I harmonize with the energies and I bless the space.

39. What do I believe is needed for a succesful spell/ritual?

Intent. Enough tools that you feel confident with. Doubt is the best way to hinder yourself and curse your work.

40. Which cultures do I draw from in my witchcraft?

I don’t know. I just work the neopagan wiccan stuff I’ve read with what I was doing before I could read.

41. What is my learning style; books, websites, videos, more hands-on?

Hands on, video, books, but honestly if you could give me it in story form it will never be forgotten. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I wish there was more Witchy memoirs out there.

42. What, if anything, in my mundane life influences my witchcraft?

Everything probably. The pain and wear and tear on my body makes it hard to do everything I want to do.

43. What are my hobbys, how do I (or can I) incorporate them in my witchcraft?

I like to write, I like to craft things, learn new crafts. I’ve already incorporated them a bit, though I would like to do more Witch writing.

44. Where do my non-witchy talents lie, how do I (or can I) incorporate them in my witchcraft?

I am good at writing, so I can use that to create more Witch media that I want? I cannot incorporate my perler beading due to the plastic and how easily they melt. I’ve already incorporated my singing, even though I don’t particularly think of it as a talent.

45. What would my dream witchy life look like? What steps can I take to work towards it?

I first need to konmari my place to help the flow of energies. Learn more about different aspects that I’m lacking. Get my anxiety under control and handle my emotional healing that needs to take place so I can better help others. Address my caffeine and sugar addiction so that tea is enough and I don’t need all these creams and sugars in my coffee.

I would love to one day be the lady that people came to more when they need help.

46. What would my dream sacred space/witchy home look like? What steps can I take to work towards it?

I guess that’s not too far from the one above. I just want the energy to flow better, more comfy pillows and plants.

47. What symbols correspond with me; runes, animals, flowers, gemstones, etc?

Not sure if i feel comfortable sharing all that lol

48. Am I an open and proud witch, or do I (need to) hide my craft?

I’m usually a very proud and open Witch, though I have to hide it at work since I’m now at a very religious school that probably wouldn’t take too kindly to this. I spent most of my life having to hide it so I’m not terribly keen on having to do it all again.

49. What are my favourite witchy items/tools; divination tool, ritual tool, décor, clothing, etc?

I actually need to replace my very witchy hoody lol. It had sigils on the inside and was huge and comfy and would help make me feel comfortable enough to focus on my craft.

50. What is holding me back in my craft?

Insecurities really. Worried about people judging me, when I know that shouldn’t matter to me. I was in an online coven once and it turned into a cult and really did a number on my self esteem.

51. What is my pre-spell/ritual routine?

A walk or a drive to get my energies flowing and amped up.

52. What are my ultimate witchy goals and how can I work towards them?

I want to be someone others can come to. So I need to make a list of things that I’m not knowledgeable on and start working towards them. Of which I already have an extensive list created for what I consider would be my ultimate grimoire so I could just work on filling that out as it would also help fill in my gaps of knowledge.

Also to be more helpful to others I first need to heal and work on myself. So a ritual set up to address my self esteem and physical ailments would be ideal.

I also need to get used to offering what I know instead of waiting for those rare moments someone is drawn to me and asks for help not knowing if I can help them or not.

#writeyourwitchcraft #witchcraft

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triggeringthehealing · 6 years

Text

Courtside

Derek/Stiles | PG | ~1900w | AO3

Summary: No, Stiles is not stalking anyone. He just has an interest in supporting the school’s basketball team. That’s not a crime, is it?

A/N: Written for the @fullmoonficlet challenge - prompt #284: seed A/N2: please excuse artistic liberties taken with anything sports related.

-=-=-=-=-

Stiles never had time for following sports news. Or maybe he just didn't have any interest, at least not in the past. Now though, now he's glued to the local TV station, waiting for the report that was supposed to be aired an hour earlier but got delayed.

Because he's developed a vested interest in the state high school tournament. He's been following the friendlies, sat in the top row for every Beacon Hills home game, drove to a few away ones. No matter what Scott says, he's not obsessed though. He's just... developed a love for the game, that's all.

"Stiles come on," Scott complains, tugging on Stiles's sleeve. "You promised we'd do this mission, like, half an hour ago."

"I'll switch over in a minute," Stiles says, eyes still on the TV screen and remote firmly in his hand.

"You said that half an hour ago," Scot tells him.

"Yeah but I didn't know the announcement would be delayed," Stiles replies.

There's a marquee running over the bottom of the screen, informing him of what he already knows. That the seed for the state championship's group stage has been delayed and will be aired shortly.

"Can we just, you know, play, and you'll catch the results later?"

Stiles tears his eyes away from the screen and glares at Scott like he's said something unforgivable.

"Or you know, just let Derek text you?" Scott smirks and ducks the smack that Stiles attempts to aim at him.

"Derek's got nothing to do with this," Stiles protests, slumping into the couch with a huff.

"Yeah buddy, it's not like you started being obsessed with the basketball team right around the time Derek Hale was put in the starting lineup," Scott says. "I mean, did you even know the school had a basketball team before that?"

"I did!" Stiles says, maybe a little too fast. "I absolutely knew. All last year, I knew."

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

Scott raises an eyebrow at him, clearly knowing the truth.

"Fine," Stiles admits. "So I didn't pay any attention until this year."

"You know it would probably be a better idea to just, like, ask him out," Scott says. "Instead of being a stalker."

"Excuse me, I'm not a stalker," Stiles says, but even he knows that it's a very fine line between his following of Derek's games and what his law enforcement officer father would see as stalking. "Also I'm pretty sure he doesn't know I exist," he says in a defeated tone. "Watching from afar is all I've got."

"Lydia didn't know you existed for real and that didn't stop you from wooing her for years," Scott points out. "Remember when I asked her if she'd want to join us for a study group and--"

"Yes, Scott, I remember that vividly, thank you for the reminder," Stiles interrupts him, the memory still painful even though he's now not only over strawberry blonde princesses but also actually good friends with Lydia Martin, despite their ongoing battle for class valedictorian.

Or maybe because of it. Keeping your friends close and your enemies closer and all that.

"I'm telling you, he's not going to say no," Scott says. "Anyway, you're missing the seed announcement."

Stiles turns to the TV fast enough that for a second he feels dizzy. Then his attention is fully on the list on the screen and the presenter's voice and he memorizes the upcoming schedule and teams for the state tournament.

-=-=-=-

Scott's words, no matter how little Stiles believes them, keep playing in his mind for the next few months. He continues to go to all the games, with increasingly lesser subtlety about whom he's watching during them. He does not include Derek's number or name on any of his banners but it's only because he refuses to let Scott help. He does, however, drag Scott to the games, in return for Scott making him sit on the bench for lacrosse.

"They could win this year," Scott says a few months, when the BHHS team is clearly on the way to the finals, clear out of the group stage and on a winning streak through the playoffs.

"It's a good lineup," Stiles agrees. "Told you they're worth supporting."

He pointedly ignores Scott's judging glare.

"Ally asked me about us being at all the games, you know," Scott tells Stiles after a while, as the cheerleaders do their warm-up routines on the court. "She thought I was there for her."

"You two broke up, like, two years ago," Stiles says, frowning in the direction of the cheerleaders, one of whom happens to be Allison, Scott's ex-girlfriend. "Why would she think that?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she was just trying to see why we were here all the time."

"You didn't say anything, did you?"

Stiles feels a little panic rising in his chest. The team and the cheerleaders are close -- he knows that Allison and Derek especially hang out a lot even away from training -- and while he's okay with Scott having figured out why Stiles has such a dedication to the games, he's not at all okay with anyone else knowing.

"I told her it's about school spirit."

"There's no way she believed that." Stiles scoffs.

"I also told her Coach is making us support other teams because he wants them to come to support us," Scott adds, grinning. "That, she did believe."

"Well, yeah. Just don't let Coach hear you say that, or we'll spend more time cheering on other teams than anything else," Stiles says, eyes back on the bench, where the team is slowly gathering for the game.

They're closer to the court today. The back rows where Stiles usually chooses to sit were already occupied when he and Scott got there. It's also an away game, and their school has seating allocated right behind their own bench. Because Scott insisted on driving -- something about practice for his own car -- the only places left were right behind the team's non-playing members.

"Hey McCall," comes from the seats in front of them and Stiles turns to see Boyd waving at Scott. "Coach still on to you about the whole team spirit bullshit?"

"Yeah," Scott answers easily.

Stiles narrows his eyes, wondering when Scott learned how to lie.

"Why aren't you up front?" Scott follows up, drawing attention from Boyd's question.

"Muscle strain. Doc has me on break for today, so I can play the finals," Boyd explains.

"Damn man, that sucks."

Stiles tunes out of their conversation about injuries that follows that exchange. He's never had that issue, despite being forced to do cross-country during the off-season and the occasional game he got to play. Scott knows a little about dealing with being benched -- Stiles at first wasn't even sure Scott could play, since his asthma was an issue all through middle school -- and him and Boyd swap tips and stories.

Meanwhile, the team moves from the bench to the court to warm up. Stiles tries to remember to watch all of them, not just Derek, but he's pretty sure he's not as subtle as he'd like to be. Luckily, it seems like he's getting away with it today and no one is paying him attention.

"Hey, Boyd said the team's going for burgers on the way back," Scott tells Stiles during one of the breaks in the game. "Said since we made the effort to drive out, we should join them. I said we would."

"Scott, why?" Stiles managed, but then the game is back on and their attention pulled away.

The game ends with another clear win for Beacon Hills and Scott and Stiles join in on the victory cheers. Despite Stiles's protests, Scott confirms with Boyd that they'll join the team at the diner on the way back home. And since Scott still has the keys to the Jeep, Stiles has no choice but to sit in the passenger seat and pout in protest.

At the diner -- about halfway on the way home -- the team takes over several booths. Stiles attempts to snag a seat with the cheerleaders since he's on friendly terms with Erica, but he's tugged into one by Scott before he can steer anywhere by himself. He's staring at the menu and debating whether he wants to test this place's curly fries or go safe and just order a milkshake when a shadow falls over the page. He looks up and freezes.

"Hey Stiles," Derek says, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"H-hi," Stiles stutters a response, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

"Thanks for coming to the game tonight," Derek tells him as he sits down. "It's great to have people from home at the away games."

Stiles nods, not sure what he's supposed to say. Which, he's pretty sure Scott would say, is a first in his entire life.

"Hey, your lucky charm is here, Hale," one of the other guys shouts from the other booth, drawing Stiles's attention. "Thanks for helping us win, Stilinski!"

When Stiles looks back at Derek, he sees the way his cheeks are darkening.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Derek mutters, but he's obviously nervous, shredding a napkin with his fingers.

Stiles waits.

"We started winning when you started coming to the games," Derek says quietly. "Lost the ones you weren't at."

"How does that make me your lucky charm?"

Derek mumbles something in response, but Stiles can't make it out.

"What?"

He's confused and his mind is already coming up with ideas, half of which he would love to be true, the other half so outlandish that he's not even going to try believing them. Beside him, Derek grabs another napkin and starts shredding it, then he takes a deep breath before he starts talking again, this time a little more clearly.

"The guys say I play better when you're there. Showing off."

"Oh."

There's a pause, then Stiles's curiosity gets the better of him and he blurts the question that's taken over his mind.

"Do you?"

Derek -- still staring at the table and the napkin in his fingers -- sighs.

"Maybe. A bit," he says quietly, not looking at Stiles.

Holy shit, Stiles thinks. Then he freezes when he hears a chuckle from his other side, where Scott is pretending not to listen in to the conversation.

"Oh."

Finally, Derek glances in Stiles's direction, but only for a second. He looks away fast, cheeks burning but a small smile playing on his lips. Stiles blushes in return.

"Hey Stiles, I'm taking a ride on the bus on the way home, they're going to drop me off," Scott says, breaking the tension a little.

"Right."

"I think I'm taking Derek's spot though, would you mind driving him?"

Stiles turns around and stares at Scott with his jaw dropped, speechless for the second time in one evening. Then he nods and turns to Derek.

"Is that okay? We could talk."

Derek nods. A beat later, his fingers stop pulling apart the napkin and he drops one of his hands under the table, finding Stiles's own and he links their fingers together. Stiles absolutely does not blush.

#sterek #eternalsterek #sterek ficlet

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