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 Posted: Thu Jan 13, 2022 4:43 pm
 all you wanna do
[wc: 1,088]
Haru was not often someone given to.....emotional attachments.
Well, alright, that wasn't entirely true. He did get attached to people, certainly, and often to his detriment. Back when he was Malachi, more than one trashcan man had looked at the bespectacled pretty boy with long legs who radiated "daddy issues" and decided that his was a chain worth yanking, for as long as he continued to provide entertainment. After a while, he'd learned to stop getting emotionally involved--that it was much better to hit it and quit it, that repeat hookups were the stuff of idiocy and foolishness. He tried, so hard, to not be stupid, to not get tangled up in feeling things for people.
And yet. Here he was.
He hadn't thought to get attached to Faustite--to Eion. Flirting with him had been fun, at first, a little joke for himself since Faustite was interesting; the shutdown had been swift and courteous, and it was fine to just leave it there. The desire remained, though, and that he was accustomed to. Thirst was fine. Attraction was all well and good.
Haru wasn't sure when base, simple attraction had turned into something else. Something....so, so much more complicated. Which was irritating, because he absolutely did not enjoy "complicated." It was difficult, and messy, and could make the very nice thing he'd found in the Negaverse less nice, if he wasn't careful. Because even the good ones, the couple of decent boys he'd dated in high school and college and after--he ruined it himself, eventually. Held on too tight. Chased them away because he couldn't let go. And that....seemed like the worst possible outcome. That his desperation for some kind of acknowledgement or affection might lead to him losing the very thing he treasured, again. That he might make things more complicated for their whole team, that he might make his own service to the Negaverse more difficult if he alienated his General, who at least was capable of acting like he found Haru someone worth keeping around.
Certainly, he'd known he felt more than attraction, more than friendship or admiration, when he'd seen Faustite torn apart on the field of battle. If he hadn't managed to acknowledge it then, the fact that he still could not reconcile the battle as a victory in his mind was more than enough to prove that. Luck, and the intervention of two other people, were the only things that had saved Faustite's life that day. Neither of those people had been him, because there was desperately little he could do in a fight. Certainly nothing he could do in the terrible, painful after.
And the fact that he had those feelings at all made this so much more complicated.
There was, of course, the base complication that both of them were sleeping with other people (or, at least, Haru was pretty sure Eion was). But truth be told, pretending that was the issue was a lie; Haru was not incapable of sharing, even if he found it difficult, and Eion hadn't promised exclusivity, and Haru wouldn't ask for it, especially when he couldn't even promise it himself. That wasn't the problem, no. The problem was that the likelihood that Eion held some kind of...of genuine, romantic affection for him--
It seemed implausible, to say the very least. What did he bring to the table, really? Nice legs, a good a**, a witty remark. He was fun, and that was by design; Malachi had been repressed and closed off and bitchy, and Malachi had been miserable, and Haruhiko was determined to not be miserable anymore. So he let himself be louder, and take up more space, and laugh and joke and cut, but only playfully, and all of it was surface level, and none of it lent itself to the prospect of him being a good romantic partner. Someone fun to spend time with, sure. A lark, a fleeting fantasy, absolutely. But someone worth having, worth keeping? It was difficult for Haru to see himself that way, no matter how much confidence and bluster he put up.
God, he was so ******** stupid.
And yet here he was, poring over a way that he might show devotion without having to speak words that might set everything he'd manage to build crumbling. As if that was any more a useful strategy, as if trying to say it without saying it would mean anything other than exactly the same sort of messiness if Eion figured out exactly what he meant by the gesture. As if it wouldn't lead to exactly the same kind of awkward conversation, dancing around, probable rejection.
And yet it was still the best idea he had, being an idiot who was all too full of feelings that he loathed to express.
He was only so-so as an artist, but the nice thing was that the internet was full of people who were much, much less so-so on that front. And that meant that he could find someone who could take his scribble and bring it to life, and who wouldn't ask too many questions.
Blackberry brambles, for envy, and for the way that Haru knew his thorniness made him hard to get to know. A whirl of fire for the General that thought him worth keeping around, even if it was just for his pretty face and his nice legs. It would sit on his shoulder, hidden when he was powered up by the collar of his uniform, and the next time they were in bed together....if Haru was lucky, Eion wouldn't ask.
He supposed that was unlikely, which meant he would have to find an explanation that was sufficiently non-sappy and not overly revealing, if that was even possible.
What a farce. He knew he was being an idiot, certainly; there was no other way to describe an unwillingness to speak words out loud but a willingness to ink a marker of it on his skin. At least he'd be able to play it off as a perfectly professional devotion, perhaps, even if that would minimize what it meant.
Still, he had the design, and he had an appointment booked. He would wear it like a brand--like a promise, in its way.
Haru wasn't going anywhere. That alone felt like an expression of devotion, when it was so much easier to run. But by putting it on his skin, engraving it permanently...well.
He supposed he hoped Eion wouldn't find it creepy. That would be more than a little awkward.
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Posted: Thu Jan 27, 2022 2:02 am
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Posted: Sat Feb 05, 2022 12:13 pm
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Posted: Thu Feb 10, 2022 4:48 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 20, 2022 1:31 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 1:46 am
[without having to confess anything]
[wc: 503 words]
It had been a fleeting impulse, at first. And then, there had been so many other things in the way that Haru hadn't had the chance to return to it.
But with things having quieted down since getting sucked into that weird inky hell dimension and everything that came after, Haru found himself coming back to the idea he'd first had in the park, with Eion's head in his lap and the twilight settling around him, when Eion mentioned that he'd lsot track of figurative language when he was in the Rift. It was stupid, and cheesy, the sort of thing that manic pixie dream girls did for their boring, cookie cutter boys in boring, cookie cutter romcoms. And yet, here Haru was, browsing the shelf of poetry volumes at a local queer bookstore. There were so many options, really, but his fingers kept coming back to one particular volume.
Richard Siken. Crush. Lovely, and longing, and melancholy, and full of all sorts of words that were so easy to leave unsaid, and thus, Haru couldn't help but think, perfect as a gift for the man he would die for but could not express his feelings to.
Cheesy, certainly, for one very gay disaster area to present to another. And yet, it felt right and natural, and frankly, there weren't any other options jumping out at him. When he kept wandering back to one specific choice, that had to be the right one.
So he pulled a copy off the shelf, went up to the counter, and smiled at the nice boy behind it as he paid.
"For yourself?" The clerk asked, idly. Sweet of him to make conversation.
"A gift, actually," Haru replied, sliding his card into the reader and waiting for the cheery little beep. "For someone who doesn't have a ton of reason to be exposed to poetry. Thought I'd get him something nice."
That was...good enough, as an answer, he thought. And it didn't step into the tangle of labels and refusal of labels that was his and Eion's relationship.
"Ooh, I hope he likes it," the clerk said, handing Haru the book.
"Me too," Haru answered.
He left the store, wandered home, pulled out a pen. Inked his note on the inside cover of the volume, and tried to ignore the way that his heart raced and his cheeks flushed as he did so. He hoped, when he popped down to Negaspace, that Faustite's office would be empty--easier to leave a gift on the desk than hand it to the intended recipient, pretty much always. This way, he wouldn't have to directly face his romantic gesture, and could smile and shrug it off later, if it was ill-recieved.
He was lucky. Pushed the door open, found it uninhabited, slipped over and left the book on the desk.
Hoped that this wasn't the worst decision of his life, somehow, becuase ti felt, potentially, like ti could be very, very stupid.
Eion,
You're not in the Rift anymore.
-春 Haru
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 8:54 pm
[call me by your name]
[wc: 1010 words]
It wasn't that running into Lysithea again had been some kind of catalyst, necessarily--at least, not by Haru's particular reckoning. Her reappearance, now complete with buttwings, hadn't caused any of the things that followed it. But it was still a convenient measure; since he had met Lysithea again,t hings had gotten...interesting, to say the least.
She had nothing to do with it. He still hadn't actually told Faustite that she had buttwings, and maybe he was holding that back on purpose--just like he was holding back that she'd punched him and turned her magic on him. And the longer he went without saying anything, the more it felt like a genuinely-kept secret rather than an accident of distraction. But there had, in fact, been plenty of distractions. Important and otherwise. Lots of things that had gotten in the way of him even thinking to bring it up.
And maybe that was what was granting the meeting outsized importance. The way he still hadn't been able to say anything about it, despite the fact that he knew that he had valuable information on Lysithea. Despite the fact that he knew that Faustite would want to know, probably, that his former sister was still calling him her brother, and that she was angry at all of them for something to do with her stupid bimbo girlfriend, or whatever Ilse was to her, and that she had the power to back up her being ********. He needed to bring it up, he damned well knew he did. But Faustite was apparently in the throes of a starseed addiction relapse, and to add this new complication to everything else going on...it seemed almost cruel. Like tossing one mkore weight on his back, and wasn't stress supposed to be really bad, for addicts? Not that Haru knew much; Leon Jaeger had never bothered to seek treatment, just quit cold turkey for a couple weeks at maximum, until his wife or his son or his daughters were insufficient again and he found another reason to pick the bottle back up.
Which meant that Haru had very little in the way of answers for his current dilemma, which was more than a little bit frustrating.
Was he helping or hurting, by keeping this to himself?
Hard for him to judge. He'd never been good at guessing his complicity in the pain of others unless it was something he very much intended to inflict. (That, he was good at. Barbed words, cutting insults, sharp-edged comments. A talent, or something. Softness, kindness, care...that he was less suited to, but he was doing his best, of late.)
(He wanted to do his best, wanted to be better than he'd been before. There were so many reasons for him to want that, and so few ways for him to actually manage it.)
And there was everything else with Faustite, who...well. At least Haru knew for sure he liked poetry, now. That had gone well enough, a gift that was actually well received, which wasn't something Haru always expected to accomplish. It could have come across maudlin or overwrought, but apparently it had been the right thing after all. And doing that thing right, Haru had to admit, did give him a little extra hope that he might manage to do another thing or two correctly, givent he chance. Whcih was a chance he desperately wanted to take. He wanted to be a good thing for Faustite--more than just a good lay.
His fingers came up to turn over the cameo, and he hoped that it meant that maybe he was. That maybe this gift indicated that he was as good for Faustite as Faustite was for him.
That was the essence of it, wasn't it.
A desire to be good.
Ironic that he had finally found such a thing after discarding the trappings of the White Moon and embracing the Negaverse, since he was sure his former allies would say that there was no way for him to do good while dressed in black. But Alkmene didn't particularly care about being good for any cause or banner or organization--it was about being good for the people that Alkmene cared about. Faustite. Albite. Jadarite, his technically-former commanding officer, sharp and dangerous as her axe. Lilith, his sister, who had brought him into this and made sure he succeeded, who seemed all too content to let him go and figure it out on his own, which he treasured. Especially since despite being her older brother, he was the one with far less footing in this magical business.
But he felt like he had finally found that footing, one way or the other. And it was with this ridiculous little team that almost felt like a family, that had all come together to execute one man for the crime of disrespecting their boss, that had helped Alkmene not just find his feet but learn to run. And the longer he stayed in the Negavese, the more certain he was: this was where he belonged.
And so he ached to be something good. Good for Faustite, personally, the way no other boyfriend had ever bothered to be good for Haru. Good for the team, a useful member, a decent weapon, something worth deploying. Good for the Negaverse as a whole, so he could earn his damn buttwings and see what shiny new power came with them.
But Haru, Alkmene, Malachi--he'd never been good for anyone, really, not under any oft he many names he'd had. Terrible son, s**t boyfriend, miserable Senshi. It felt, the longer he was in the Negaverse, like that was becoming less true. He could fight, now. Had started to learn some real hand to hand skills. Had magic that both Faustite and Jadarite acknowledged the usefulness of, and if he wasn't going to accept their judgement, whose could he accept?
So maybe he was making better than he thought he was. Maybe the key was that he was already enough.
...It'd be nice, Haru thought, if that was the truth.
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Posted: Sat Apr 15, 2023 2:56 pm
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2023 1:42 am
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Posted: Sun Jan 14, 2024 7:40 pm
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