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November 2016

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Nov. 21st, 2016

Agito

How extrapolating ideas can be very, very bad

It's been a while since another's opinion bothered a great deal out of me. One moment we were having this pleasant conversation over meals and the next, I find myself feeling a little bit scandalized and nauseous. Every neurons in my body were suddenly on a fight or flight system and I had to suppress the painful urge to turn the comfortable chatter to a full fledged heated debate.

As I went back to my room, I can't help but think over and over about, "How can this person possibly say that he or she respect gays but believe it wrong when they start living together and form a family?"

The term was, 'not right' Or maybe it's the the statement, "It's against nature" which Aggro'd me.

For me at the time of hearing this, I felt like I received a blow on my guts. Air was knocked out of me. That kind of respect felt so Shallow. So infuriatingly shallow. I couldn't get my head around it. It felt like the person was willing to tolerate the lifestyle of gay people but only to some degree and only until the point where they start living together. If I extrapolate, it meant until they start falling in love, until they engaged in relationships, until they started shacking up or forming their own families. Did that person believe then that gay people are not entitled to find happiness in the form of intimacy with the same sex? Is it only allowed when the gay person somehow suppresses her or his desire and instead opt to settle with someone else who isn't of the same gender? Regardless of human feelings? Because it's the natural thing to do?

And here I thought the natural thing to do was for every human to fall in love and choose whomever it was they choose and fall in love with!?


Wasn't love without gender??


That kind of respect did not feel like a true respect at all. It means putting the gay community in a cage, giving them limits and shackling them up. It still was just a teasing idea of freedom. Unreal.

But it is because I feel obligated to be as understanding that I have to acknowledge the fact that my opinion is just one among many. I could be wrong. I could be mistaken. All I know at the moment is that this somehow concerned me more than Trump's winning the US election and more than Marcos' burial in "Libingan ng mga Bayani." I guess I have somehow forgotten how homosexuality is still not wholy accepted and that gays are still a minority.

Or I may have just forgotten how opinions and beliefs tend to be: which was to always predictably clash at some point.


-.-

Needless to say, these musing aren't about the person who had the opinion or belief but of the opinion or belief itself.

There are family and religious backgrounds to think about as old school would teach us, but it is irrefutable that we are stubborn about our own principles.

I know at least I am.

And in the end, they are just that: one's principles.

And all this restless emotions will simmer and settle down as soon as they are expressed in writing.


-.-

Makes me wonder though, if I'm considered broken having this ground. Rather not think about how my morals would be judged then.


But I know in the end, I wouldn't have traded where I stood for anything else, not for anything less.

Oct. 23rd, 2016

Yano

You're so Beautiful Tonight

Summary: Yuuri briefly wondered about how at this exact moment, he didn't need to borrow anyone else's courage or inspiration.
.

It took a while, but they got there, where they are supposed to be.
Together.


Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice

Pairing: Yuuri Katsuki x Yuri Plisetsky (Yurio)

AN: This fic is not beta'd. All errors are all on me. >:D

I have to say though, I have lost my mojo for writing for quite a while and felt so uninspired for a long, long time. It's like I lived the same day everyday, inside a stagnant time capsule. Watching Yuri on Ice broke the curse. Somehow, by the end of episode 3, I found myself afloat in space with all of this unexplained joy and inspiration bursting inside my chest. This fic is the end result of that experience. :>


Better read this on AO3 LINK


YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL TONIGHT


You're so beautiful tonight,

Like flowers dancing on a summer field,

My eyes caught with your every sway,

You take my breath away.






It was his party, a small celebration for finally placing first in his ISU Grand Prix Finale. A throng of people would purposely seek him out to congratulate him enthusiastically. The pub they had booked for the night was small and he would feel occasional bumps on his shoulder, a tap on the small of his back or some friendly squeezes on his arms. A blush would at times colour his cheeks and he would stutter an embarrassed 'thanks'. He knew he should be more confident about it. He had come a long way... they all did. He should shake the hands of the people who came out of their way to express their continuous support more confidently. He still trembled, a nervous gesture. Deep inside, a small part of him still thinks this is all just a dream. He hears Victor's laughter somewhere behind him, most probably getting himself drunk at the bar, surrounded by a mesmerised crowd. His heart warms at the idea of having Victor's steady presence near him, and of having him in the same room. Yuuri was grateful of not having to disappoint his Russian coach and having Victor in this party is the tangible proof of that. Tomorrow, he could eat Pork Cutlet bowl with him. His friendship with the latter has taken root and ran so deep he now knew not where to go without his support. He allowed himself to look back at the skating genius. Victor was indeed having a good time, drinking wine from his goblet and chatting amicably with the old Russian coach, Yakov Feltsman. Victor catches Yuuri's eyes. Victor throws him a crooked grin as he raised the goblet and tipped it at Yuuri's direction. Yuuri lets out a small laugh and gave his amazing coach a nod. He would have walked towards the man had he not caught a blonde flurry of movement at his periphery.



Yuri Plisetsky was surreptitiously making his way to the exit. 'Yurio', Yuuri thought warmly.



Without having the time to think about it, Yuuri found his feet already making their way towards the younger man. He was always propelled towards Yurio. Yuuri dimly thought how he always knew where Yurio was in the room, in a similar way as to how Yuuri knew where Victor would be. Yuuri followed. People have called Yurio a Russian Punk. There was a time Yuuri referred to the lad as the same but somewhere along the way, in the course of their friendship, Yuuri could not find himself to refer to the blonde beauty as none other than a Russian Fairy. Yuuri found his chest constricting, his own breath caught in his throat. He knew Yurio too well and he recognised the stiff gesture as the other man exited. Yuuri thought he didn't like the way Yurio's shoulders were slumped in defeat. He wanted to reach out and ease the tension of those rigid muscles. Yuuri wanted to make Yurio stay and make him feel better. Yuuri didn't have time to think about why just as he didn't have the time to spare glances at the bodies he had to squeeze through in order to catch up to Yurio.



It was his party, a small celebration organised by his family and friends, but Yuuri thought he didn't like it if the one person that mattered wasn't in it.



Yuuri opened the wooden door and felt the cold rush of air hit his face. He shivered. He was too lightly dressed for the cold night. He nearly panicked when he didn't immediately have Yurio in sight. He spun on his heels and blindly took a direction. Yuuri has spent enough time with the Russian skater and observed him enough to know his habits of wanting to be alone. Soon enough, in the corner of the Pub and under a lamp post, Yurio was crouching down, his back against the metal post. Yurio's hood was pulled over his head, his blonde hair spilling at the side of his face. Yuuri walked closely enough until he was sure his shoes were within the younger man's sight.



"You should be inside," Yurio muttered, not even sparing a glance. Yurio continued to glare at the pavement. He didn't seem surprised to find Yuuri's presence.



Yuuri's shadow spilled over Yurio's crouched form. He couldn't see the Russian's face quite clearly enough but recognised the tone of dismissal.



"As should you," Yuuri breathed.



Yurio gave a low grunt in reply.



Yuuri smiled. He thought it sounded like a whine. Without preamble, he stretched an arm and offered a hand to the younger boy. Yurio seemed to be startled at the sudden gesture but easily concealed his emotion and whispered a rude, 'whatever'. It didn't faze Yuuri... because at least now, he can see the Russian's pale face and because Yurio was accepting his offered hand and was holding on to it. Yuuri's smile was full blown now, as their hands clasped together. No matter the air of rudeness or dismissal the younger boy would exude, Yurio would never reject Yuuri. There was a sense of comfort in knowing that, similar to the way Pork Cutlet Bowls would remind Yuuri of home.



Yuuri hauled the other boy up. The corner of Yurio's hooded head almost hit Yuuri's chin and he couldn't help but giggle as their bodies pressed together. Yuuri helped the other man balance himself. Yurio glared at him before rolling his eyes in mocked exasperation.



"That's better," Yuuri grinned.



The younger man pursed his lips and stilled at Yuuri's words. He glanced briefly at Yuuri's lips before flicking his eyes back to Yuuri's raven eyes. Yurio seemed to want to say something but instead changed his mind. He threw another inscrutable look at Yuuri after a breath. Yurio searched his eyes. Yuuri can't help but be drawn to the intensity of those azure blue eyes. It reminded him of skating atop the cold blue sea. Where the description came from, he didn't really bother to figure out about. Yuuri found himself lost in those blue-green eyes and thought about how he could look at them forever and about how infinite they seemed. He lost track of himself until he felt Yurio's grip tighten and then the magic was gone because Yurio was leaning back and was letting go of his hand. Yuuri felt bereft of the warmth.



Yurio sighed. "Don't be rude. Warm your palm the next time you offer it," he says. Whatever answer Yurio found in searching Yuuri's eyes, the blonde man did not share.



"Err, " Yuuri was lost for words.



Yurio flicked a glance at him, lips tightening for a fraction.



"I guess I will," Yuuri answers, "next time." He offered a small smile. Surely there will be a next time. And soon, he hoped.



Yuuri turned, fully intending to bring Yurio with him back to the Pub. He opened his lips for an invite and was about to offer another hand but Yurio beat him to it,



"You love him," Yurio blurted out. His azure blue eyes were blown wide and he seemed to have not expected the rush of words to come out of his mouth. He gritted his teeth and avoided Yuuri's eyes. "You're in love with him," he clarified. It wasn't a question. The last sentence came out as a whisper.



Yuuri didn't need to ask just whom it was Yurio was referring to.



It nailed Yuuri to the ground he stood on. He had not thought about his feelings. He was never really one to sort out his feelings. He could've just dismissed this conversation with a hollow laugh and an insincere answer to brush it away but doubted that it is what he really wanted to do. Not when the answer stood right in front of him looking so beautiful under the lonely moon, not when the touch of clarity was finally within grasp and not when his dimwitted senses are finally being shook forcefully to right themselves. Yuuri was never truly courageous compared to this beautiful monster in front of him. He was never genuinely confident about a lot of things in life compared to Yurio. It lifted Yuuri's heart realising how Yurio always beat him. In everything.



"I'm no match to you," he breathes instead. It wasn't what he was supposed to say.



It got Yurio to finally look at him square in the eyes. Yurio just stared at him for a fraction of a heartbeat, having been caught off guard. And then Yurio snapped out of it and shook his head. He narrowed his eyes at Yuuri.



"Fine," he snapped. "I should've known you'd be this infuriating."



Others would have probably stormed off if they were in Yurio's position... but the weren't really the Russian Fairy Yurio is. He was savage even to himself. Beautifully savage.



Yurio pulls at his silken blonde hair and was lost in a trance of muttering conclusions of his own. He seemed to be more annoyed of himself more than anything. Yuuri heard some faint words that didn't make sense to him at first but the words were lost to him after sometime when he had better things to do like staring fondly at the delight of a creature that was Yuri Plisetsky.



/"Should've known the way you always look at him and following him like a stupid puppy. Of course it wasn't just a silly crush or some adoration shit..."/



"I do," Yuuri answers gently, and belatedly to Yurio's inital question. It pulled Yurio out of his musings and tirade.



"I do," Yuuri repeated when there was finally quiet. It wasn't lost on him how Yurio winced at his words, hurt evident on his eyes. He needed Yurio to understand. He needed Yurio to hear him out.



Yuuri thought about how deep his affections for Victor ran and how his simple crush turned to respect and familial love over time. During the course of Yuuri's career, Victor had been the steady wall Yuuri leaned on. Victor was Yuuri's courage when he couldn't find it within himself. Victor was his inspiration. Victor Nikiforov was already cemented to Yuuri' life. It wouldn't change anymore. Things may have changed since the very first day Victor appeared at the doorsteps of Yu-Topia Inn to declare himself Yuuri's new coach but it does not change the fact that Victor is someone Yuuri loves. Yuuri believed that every piece has finally fallen to where they are fated to be.



"I do," Yuuri confirmed to himself for third time, lost in his own musings. Dimly he heard Yurio groaned. Yuuri felt the corners of his lips tugging to form a smile, "but not in the same way as I love you." He tipped his head and looked brightly at Yurio.



Yurio scowled. His brows furrowed. He really had such bad temper. Yuuri wanted to kiss that frown away.



"Of course," Yurio finally wheezed, biting his lower lip. "Of course, you love him." He concluded as he was nodding abstractedly to himself. The Russian git proceeded to a litany of curses and deductions, completely ignoring Yuuri. Yurio's jaws were hardened.



Yuuri was confused at Yurio's reactions at first but then burst out laughing. Trust the maddeningly beautiful blonde to disregard the most important part of Yuuri's confession this night---scratch that, the most important part of Yuuri's confession in his entire life. Yuuri didn't mean to laugh but he thought no person could fight off Yurio's charms. He felt like he was in the clouds.



Yurio glared at him, feeling insulted from the laughter. He looked wounded for a fraction, but quickly masked himself with a defiant expression of disdain. He stomped off and walked pass Yuuri.



"You annoying jerk--"



Yuuri caught himself and immediately grabbed Yurio's wrist. He gave a forceful tug until Yurio halted on his tracks and was facing Yuuri. The young blonde refused to look him in the eye. Yuuri stared warmly at him, at the pouting lips and at the touch of pink on those pale pointy cheeks. The mirth in Yuuri's eyes vanished and his amused lips turned gentle as he raised his hand to allow his fingers to alight on the Russian's cheek. Yuuri caressed the side of Yurio's face until Yurio was finally looking up at him. Yurio's azure blue eyes were wide and his pupils were blown wide. Yuuri can see Yurio's feelings as clearly as his own now... but he can also see the doubt, the worried confusion.



"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Yuuri asked, barely above a whisper, afraid of ruining the magic and of scaring this Russian lion away.



"You just told me you love him,"



Yuuri's lips quirked to a grin. God, he thought, was there ever a time when Yurio wasn't this delightful?



"I did," Yuuri said because he couldn't resist it. Yurio tried to pull away from him but Yuuri was ready for it this time. Yuuri held Yurio's face with both hands.



Yurio glanced sideways, shoulders sagging in defeat. "That's it," he says lighly. "I give up."



"I also said I'm in love with you, stupid," Yuuri says warmly. Yuuri didn't find any part of himself refuting this. It sounded true and whole and it made him wish he said since the beginning.



Yurio moaned. "That wasn't what you said earlier," he complained, but he lifted his hands and tentatively covered Yuuri's hands which were holding the side of Yurio's face. There was fear and hope in the pool of azure blue eyes. There was this palpable want amongst others. Every part of Yurio calls and Yuuri finds every fibre of his being responding.



"Can you please just make up your mind already!", Yurio demanded. It was the most beautiful whine Yuuri ever heard in his entire life.



Yuuri briefly wondered about how at this exact moment, he didn't need to borrow anyone else's courage or inspiration.



He leaned down and claimed Yurio's lips for a searing kiss. And as Yurio hungrily kissed back and clutched at the back of Yuuri's nape, Yuuri reminisced how he wasn't really a match to Yurio since the beginning...



and how this must be the only thing better than winning his first ISU Grand Prix.





>>>.>>>

Sep. 22nd, 2016

His portrait

Vicious Love

Run like a horse, gallop like the mad man that you are,
There is no nook and cranny you can hide in that I shall not find;
You are but a pet in the palm of my hands,
It is I your flesh shall hunger for,
Only my taste your tongue shall crave with every passing second;
You can run but I will find you
And you shall be gagging for me then,
Begging me to tie you down and flog your back,
Mark you with this vicious love of mine.



---> an entry i wrote Feb/2013 on a piece of paper I found tucked in my journal
Oh gahd I must've been writing slash fiction at that time.

Sep. 10th, 2016

Gypsy

Suddenly

I wonder if it was because of the slow drizzles... Wonder if it was the cool breeze or the droplets against the window glass, wonder if it was the low hum of engines outside or the screech of rubber tires against the concrete. I opened my eyes and just knew. It was as if an encrypted data has beed unlocked and a new program was started anew. My poor brain's bombarded by the flood of data. And I knew then, just knew, that the core will not ever change. Travels abroad must've taken priority before. I may have relentlessly pursued some other real life stuff that demanded urgency... But I guess during the quiet...when everything's done and the primary missions are accomplished, the insatiable hunger awakens and takes over. And today that's what I'm enveloped with---the insane drive to play video games.

And I'm in love again because of it.

And again I wonder about the people who would not ever understand this feeling. Because at times like this, it feels infinite. And it's not just because of the unexpected rain, or the cool air, or the cars passing by outside my window.
Tags:

Aug. 1st, 2016

Yano

Totally Disconnected. And Random.

At some point, I felt ashamed and embarassed for no particular reason, didn't I? I also felt frustrated. It's the kind of frustration where you felt you were trapped inside your mind while someone else took control of your body and there was nothing to do but to watch everything unfold. Nothing truly unpleasant happened, but it's the thought of being able to do nothing that paralyses you and creeps at you. Because losing control is possibly one of the most dreadful thing in this world. And it happens a lot (sometimes unnoticed). It doesn't even matter if it's something mundane or irrelevant. It's the weight of feeling victim of something unwanted. Unwarranted.


'Don't mind the small stuff. Everything else is considered small.,' I believe that was something the old me would brag about to the crowd as I do the stupidest thing (I did a lot of stupid, stupid things). 'Don't problem the problem.'


Adult world is scary. I feel like I'm always trying to catch something intangible. And even when I just basically hid under the covers of my blanket and shut the rest of the world for 1 whole day today, it still felt as if I was rushing to something. Reaching forward. Chasing goals and wraiths. It's exhausting.


While I'm not as confident as when I was younger, I still have a dangerous mind. A cruel one. A selfish one. So i guess it can't be helped that I'm feeling a bit embarassed now. And a bit not myself. Because if I am harsh to people, I can be especially merciless to myself. I wish I can blame it on the rain, but I was honestly disconnected to the world I had no idea what it was like outside.


I know. Things like this will pass. I'll get over it. I should.


But I'm feeling particularly thoughtful... And if my thoughts were this disconnected to each other, imagine how my mind is to my corporeal self and my body to the rest of the world.


Do this a lot.

Retreat.


At least, when I dont like fighting or riding the tides of everyday life. Or when I'm genuinely lazy.



And while I got lost (in whatever world), there are still lotsa roads to try.

Jun. 22nd, 2016

Agito

GO UP

Tomorrow gets me higher.

I think I found something I didn't think I was already losing.


Inspiration


It feels like I was given another chance at life. I knew even then (before traveling to the West) that I wanted to get my gears turning again. I wanted to be moving. To be doing something different and radical and life changing. I wanted to have another goal. I wanted a purpose because I wanted to be continously pursuing something. I can't function with daily lives otherwise. I think having this trip to the U.S. gave me what I was missing and more than that. I saw another possibility. I saw a future I never thought possible but realized I wanted. Having been reacquainted to my relatives both in Hawaii and New Jersey made me feel so grounded, so connected, so alive. It made me feel somehow, if not totally, whole. I didn't realize I was feeling terribly lonely and weak. I didn't realize that I was feeling lost, at least a part of me.


Being graced with the company, love and generosity of people whom I shared blood ties, or of whom I shared a connection with felt fulfilling. This trip made me feel rested. Rejuvinated. Determined. It feels brilliant.


It feels exhausting, too, just thinking about the lengths of what I need to go through again to get what I want. I have never taken things so easily. I have never gotten to one place from the other without having to cross some demn effing 100th level difficulty bridge. I always needed to take the long route just because I didnt have the proper connection or money before. Exams are by no means an obstacle. It's something hardwork can get you through. But now I have acquired the proper equipment and level by sheer perseverance and slowly leveling in different terrains and parts of the map. it took a while... but the means to make another jump isn't lost.

I think.


And I'd be lying if I don't mention how I found that I apparently love guns. Even after a whole day from shooting at the range, the endorphins in my system won't go. I want to touch that Gloc and that Rifle again. I wanted the feel of metal on my cheek as I press the trigger. I don't condone gun violence. But I find I have this irrational desire for guns and ammos. They are sleek and beautiful. and powerful. One does not get to touch such power so easily after all. My heart pounds so much just thinking about the experience.


And I want to spend another time with my cousin. Deng.


But the gate will open soon and I can't afford to get more dramatic. I can't even afford to double check my grammar or my spellinga.

May. 26th, 2016

Agito

If it's you

Ahhh there it is again. That feeling. After so long, I'm enveloped once again by an irrational sense of giddiness. I can't remember the last time I was able to curve my lips to a full lopsided grin or the last time a swarm of butterflies have overtaken my core. I can't remember the last time there were bounces on my steps or the last time I believed things will get better. While I don't have any result yet, just "following through" made me encounter one thing I thought I would never want again. 'The reward of not being a coward'. And now is the time to finally take responsibility.


I'm sure the novelty will fade one day. I don't see this same joy sticking with me through the end... but a choice was made and all there is to do besides following through will be holding onto it with all I've got. I've decided to be responsible and own up.


I think at then end of the day, I was left with one thing to do and that was to play the cards I have while I have them. They are my strength and about the only thing i can offer. They haven't expired yet. They can still be appreciated. And if i think deeply about it, all roads just seemed to overlap. I was brought back to the path where I started... and now hands seemed to be reaching up and urging I take what's in front of me.


I refuse to be a coward. It seems I'm taking a gamble again and jumping onto something I dont know whether tis a grave or an oasis. But I think I'm sticking through with it and hope for the best that the people around me will understand.

Because it's not something I thought about recklessly or spontaneously. At least, not all of it.. And it is not something I chose without any difficulty.

May. 21st, 2016

One More

/This emotion may burn without a single purpose
But I'll speak its name./




Knowing what you want to do and actually having the strength to do it are different. They especially don't always come together. While this issue is already a pain in the ass, there's also 'doing something while not knowing if it's truly what you ought to be doing'. Now, I think this second dilemma is the more bothersome one. Is the door you're about to open truly the one that will lead you to that destination you desperately wanted to arrive at? Is it the solution to your problem  or just the path for self destruction?


I have thrown the dices yet again when I'm not even a hunderd percent confident that I should-- or if I wanted to do it. I'm not even wholeheartedly motivated. All I know is that I wanted to get moving. I need to get the gears turning. Another step. Another gamble. Another hit or miss. Just to get moving. Mohitotsu no. Mou ippai.


There's a place I'm searching for and all I know is that I'm not there yet. So I should get moving again. It feels hollow inside otherwise. There's a person I wanted to become as well and all I know is that I'm going to turn out into someone different if I don't take another step. It makes me feel truly very restless inside. It makes me mad during the silent hours. The thought hunts me so that it hursts inside. As if a hundred blades pierce through my chest repeatedly.


The truth is I'm scared... but I refuse to be called a coward. The truth is that I'm undecided... but the dices have already been thrown and there's nothing else to do but follow through. It's about the only thing I can do right now. I just have to enter the door that's been randomly opened. If I should take a wrong move, I guess all I need to do after that is to do my darnest to make it right. Right the wrong. Fix the mess. This fear, these crazy heart beats, this lump in my throat, this nasty idea that people might misinterpret my motives... all that I have to do is to swallow them and pretend they didn't exist in the first place. I'll just embrace them when I'm alone. All that matters at this point is following through. Another step. Embrace the gamble.


I just need to get moving from where I am. Didn't I already forbid myself never to get complacent? never to be stagnant? I'm not 'there' yet.


Seriously, though, my heart is already in Japan. I can't wait to see the cherry blossoms and walk the place I consider as my 'Mecca'. A year is too long a wait. I feel as though everything I ever did is for that one moment when I finally get to enjoy Nihon. There's also my trip to Hawaii and New Jersey. I shouldn't get ahead of myself or get too excited. That moment where I have to make a decision, it will come soon. It will come earlier. Now's not the time to be distracted. Dang, I have a lot of distractions, honestly.



I think I've been lazy again. And over indulging. A hedonist to the core.


But I guess it was precisely because I've been through this hedonistic period that I am now willing to take another risk. Why there's this hand that pushes me to move again... A time for a new arc.


Mou ippai.


The things is, I've tried the doors I perceived will direclty bring me to where I truly wished to be... but fate was a bitch that wouldn't let me enter them. (not a single one of them). All attempts led to failure.
So I'm going to be stubborn. I'm going for a door I'm not sure about. A random path. One I never once saw myself taking willingly. Will it serve as a detour which will get me to that place I dream of or will it be a path that will make me lose sight of my goal?


Doesn't matter.



Just to get moving. Just to take a step. There really isn't a need to think so much. All that matters is making it right in the end.
Tags:

Lacrimosa 1

A/N: A ficlet for a friend.



1. Flying


*


I remember I was flying. I was surging up, cutting through air, and defying gravity.

I remember feeling so ecstatic... That in that so short a moment, and for the very first time of my life, I was genuinely happy.

I was very happy.


But then I was falling.

And it happened so quickly.


*

I don't remember anything else after that. Everything turned black and all the pain was suddenly gone.

People said I tried to get up from the ground even after my fall. They said I wanted to repeat the act. They said I wanted to fly again.

That even when my bones were all mangled up and when there was blood everywhere, my deliriious state got myself up from the earth so I can jump again.


I believe them.


*

The next time I open my eyes after my fall, I was in a place with ceilings of white.


It wasn't a bad place. It wasn't good either.


But it was where I met him.


--Ian

Apr. 12th, 2016

Agito

The Start of Eras

THE START OF ERAS

PART 3 of THE PRINCE AND PAUPER

Summary: His addiction had to start somewhere. Jim purred against John’s mouth. He wished he could do that every day. Tasting. He finally found his omega.

Fandom: Sherlock BBC

Pairing: Jim Moriarity x John Watson




A/N:
This Part3 is dedicated to nosetothewind94. Pls view nose’s wonderful art in this LINK : http://archiveofourown.org/works/1356790.

I stopped writing for a long, long time. I can't even give any excuse. It was seeing nose’s art about my Dance of Wolves that made me want to pick up the pen again and write Johnlock. Seriously, I owe nose. ^^
This fic is still not beta’d. All mistakes are on me. On my knees*
(I hope this one does not feel rushed.)

I feel so out of practice... but then again, we don't need practice in expressing love ^^











/If it feels good,

tastes good,

It must be mine,

-The Emperor’s New Clothes. /

*

It was raining heavily when Jim Moriarty found him.

Jim’s heart would pound ecstatically whenever that fateful day crosses his mind in remembrance. That was how it was. Jim found him. Jim did not meet him.  ‘Meet’ seemed so shallow a word to describe his relationship with John Watson, after all. Nothing relating to his John could be trivial, could mean so little, or could be undervalued. That Jim found him implied a gratifying sense of belongingness and ownership. Because John wasis his. If Jim could, he’d garnish the very ground his little blonde omega walks on with flower petals, diamonds and gold and desiccated limbs. It would have been wonderful.

It was raining heavily when Jim Moriarty found him. The dark clouds had cloaked the whole city of Scowall and the moon was scarcely visible. He remembered the cold clinging dreadfully on his skin and the heavy drizzle swallowing all forms of sound as the droplets hit the cobbled ground. Back then, Jim found himself in a territory he didn’t recognize. He had snuck out again. He had been exploring the dark underground passages of the castle like how he’d always done when he found a path he hadn’t bother to take before. It led him to one of the most unsavoury areas of Scowall. It was the bit the City does not recognize and thus shamefully hides from the other neighbouring places. Jim had known it immediately that he found the place. Even the rain couldn’t wash out the foul smell of poverty and crime. He remembered how he thought it was the very ground where the Jim Moriarty would truly start. His playground. The place will be his stage. Everyone starts with baby steps after all. What he had not known at that point was that his discovery would also lead him to the wolf who would change the course of his life.

Jim wound his way through the dirty alleys. He explored. He marvelled. He sniffed his nose in disgust every now and then. He inhaled the scent of the place and drunk all the details his dark eyes light upon. He walked and lived the place until he was dead sure he had a map imprinted inside his head, until he could see a vivid imitation of the paths he threaded on whenever he closed his eyes. He had, in any case, decided he would own the place. He would be the true King of that forgotten and forsaken residence. The whole town would smell of him sooner or later. He had these ideas inside his head.

He had plans.

He threaded his way very cautiously, insidiously. His age was a disadvantage. While nothing was impossible, he found it bothersome to skirt around when he could’ve executed things far more efficiently the way he pictured things inside his head. He needed to be careful and observant. He wasn’t that powerful yet. And so Jim was being sly and stealthy with the shadows of the walls serving as his cover when he finally walked in on a brawl where upon his young John Watson was engaged with.

It was not instantaneous. He had not immediately known then that he’d want a claim on John Watson. It wasn’t love at first love or some similar shit.

Jim watched closely, eyes, for some irrational reason, trained on the blonde boy with a knapsack who had his back against the wall. It was a very reckless predicament to find yourself in when you are outnumbered by older and bigger men… or by men who lived in the place you find yourself cornered in. It was clear as day to Jim that the blonde kid did not live in this place of the City.

Jim held himself and watched. The blonde boy’s eyes were darting around, clearly searching for an escape. It was of no use. He was absolutely cornered. There was no use calling for help as well—not when the rain seemed to want to pour heavily and eternally. Not that anyone who might notice would want to intervene in any case. They were in that part of the City where crime probably was just a breeze in the wind. The boy, he was younger than Jim. He was at the age where wolves first discover their gender. It was difficult to ascertain the blonde’s gender from his distance, not when the humid air had a permanent stench to it. Jim already knew the boy was a were. His instinct never failed him.  It was a gift. Even before the evidence was under his nose, he would know if someone was human or not. There was something about the boy that was especially wild and steady and solid. Jim found himself bracing with the uncontainable anticipation. There was something about the boy that was totally captivating. He was excited for a reason he could not explain. He was engrossed with witnessing how the scene would unfold.

The boy’s clear blue eyes were glaring defiantly at his assailants. He swiped at his forehead to clear his damp fringes off his eyes. His lean arm was trembling. The poor kid was unmistakably frightened. He had every reason to be. He seemed so ordinary. So little in the face of his adversaries. Even so, Jim watched him clench his fist on his sides and grit his teeth like how a four legged form would bare its fangs. The boy opened his mouth and snarled. He said something to his assailants which Jim could not make out of the torrential rain.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.

Jim wanted to know what the exchanged words were. Badly.

And then it happened. The blonde little wolf leapt and practically threw his whole weight at one of the men. The brute fell on his back, head hitting the cobbled ground. The boy was already swinging his fist in the air, eyes savage and intent of hurting. He swung at his opponent’s face, one fistful after the other. He was fighting recklessly and beautifully. But then the other man who had been initially frozen by the surprise attack caught his bearings. He kicked at the boy’s side, throwing him off the beaten man. The boy fell on the ground with a thud. He howled in pain and clutched at his side, wincing.

The other man approached the boy but before he could lay another finger, Jim Moriarty was already on him. Out of nowhere. Jim struck with precision. Jim was older than the blonde boy but then Jim was also younger and smaller than the two attackers.  There was no way he could’ve defeated anyone of them with bare strength. Not that he even considered it. Jim’s lips were curved into a predatory smile as he felt his blade pierce through flesh, onto the man’s side. He trembled in excitement as he slid his dagger deeper, eyes fluttering, feeling the organs rip open. It was so easy, killing a man. He had not known before… but it was so very easy as he imagined. He also didn’t know it could feel so exhilarating, so fulfilling.

He could have ended one there and then.

Jim back pedalled and tore himself from the human brute before the other could clutch at him reflexively. Jim didn’t want the man’s dirty hands on him. He watched, pleased, as the man fell on his knees, hands trembling and fear sculptured on his old face as he started down at the knife sticking on his torso. It was raining, but Jim was sure there were tears on his eyes.

“I wouldn’t pull the knife off if I were you,” Jim stated matter of factly, head tilting to his side and eyes with detached interest. He found it fascinating, the glint of his blade under the moonlight and the slow dribble of blood as it mixed with the rain.

The other man the boy had initially beaten has eventually gotten up and ran to his comrade’s side. He looked between his accomplice, the dagger sticking out and then at Jim. His eyes were wide with terrified, bewildered recognition.

“Hmm,” Jim hummed, his smile extending to his eyes. “You aren’t dumb are you?”

“You… you’re…”

Jim was aware of the shuffling behind him. Ahh yes. The boy was already recovered. He glanced back at him and saw the boy witnessing the exchange of conversation.

“Well,” Jim drawled, “do you not need to take your friend somewhere?”

Jim did not bother with the grown men any more than necessary. They were inconsequential. One was likely to die soon anyway, what with his guts being ripped open, and Jim could always find them later if he wanted to. They had this foul smell you can always trace when needed. He turned his back on them, confident that there would not be any attack anymore, and instead placed his attention to what mattered most. Then again, even if the men did plan on anything underhanded, the blonde boy was apparently already looking out for him.

Jim stared down at the boy with renewed hunger. He kind of felt irked that the other wasn’t paying any attention to him. He also felt moved that the boy kept glaring warily on the men and watched them shuffle away. It was only when the men’s footsteps have all but faded within earshot that the boy started to properly look at him.

“Turning your back on them,” the boy muttered irritably, “are you stupid?”

Jim couldn’t help it. The edge of his lips twitched. That wasn’t what he expected.

“That was dangerous,” the boy further admonished.

Yes, Jim couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the endorphins or the rush of adrenaline from the earlier scuffle. His smile spread onto his face before he exploded into a full blown laughter.

Dangerous.

Dangerous, he said. That really was funny. Didn’t the boy just see him gut someone with a dagger? There was a sense of giddiness in Jim as he shook with mirth, his shadows looming over the boy who was still kneeling on the ground, hands on his sore side. Jim laughed as the boy continued to scowl at him. He laughed as the boy looked at him with eyes of naked curiosity.

But then Jim noticed how the boy’s nose finally twitched in apprehension, noticed how the boy’s guard started to build up against him. This boy was a wolf after all. He’d have caught and recognized the coppery smell of blood. Jim knew when the other started remembering, albeit belatedly, that Jim was the stranger who planted a knife in a grown man’s torso without any form of remorse. Jim saw his reflection on the younger boy’s blue eyes. There was a manic glint in Jim’s eyes even as his lips were curved to a smile.

The boy held his breath. Good instinct, Jim thought.

“Your name,” Jim inquired sharply the soonest that he reined in his butterflies of laughter.

“John,” the boy answered promptly, staring at Jim with levelled gaze. Scared. The boy had his hands clenched into fists now. Jim wondered if it was a habit whenever the boy thought he would engage in a fight.

“John,” Jim carefully tasted the name in his tongue.

“T—thank you,” John said to him. John’s eyes never strayed away even when Jim was fairly sure that the latter was fighting the impulse to avert his eyes. The boy’s shackles were raised. Good instincts, Jim marvelled yet again. But also very polite, the boy was. John still recognized him as his saviour.

Good, Jim thought to himself. All good.

“Aren’t you going to pay me, in exchange for saving your life?” Jim tested. He extended a hand. He was gratified when John took it. Jim was taller than him.

“I don’t have money on me,” John answered honestly. “Didn’t you think I’d have given them what they wanted and stayed away from trouble instead?”

“Your knapsack,”

“There’s nothing of value,” John cut in hastily and defensively, teeth flashing in the dim light.

Jim mused. It was still raining but when he folded his arm and sniffed at the hand which John touched, he caught a trace scent. There was suddenly an indescribable ache in his stomach. John was an omega. The smell was almost washed away just as quickly but there was no mistake in its raw, maddening sweetness. This John was an omega and he had just had his first heat. Jim caught all of that from his scent. It all made sense now. Jim didn’t have to wonder about the encounter. It also explained the boy’s constant glaring and impossible sense of guardedness. This wonderful boy was an omega. Jim wanted to moan. But then he almost wanted to howl. He remembered how those men have hurt him.

“I… I really have to go,” John ventured.

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