#Anyways if i was an old woman trying and failing to hurt the feelings of a 25yr old shop worker id probablybe embarassed

[sharpbutsoft]

In case no one’s told you, it is Weird and Rude and Obnoxious to project your insecurities onto customer service workers

It is especially obnoxious to repeatedly call yourself fat and make inappropriate and unasked for comments about other people’s bodies when you are a size Eight in a store that goes up to size 16/18

[vrisrezis]

Love triangle?? With atsv characters

Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?

Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.

This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.

How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.

Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.

She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.

You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.

“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.

She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?

“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.

There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!

Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.

You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.

Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.

Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.

“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”

Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.

But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.

“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?

“Hey, miles?”

“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.

“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”

“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.

Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.

You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.

However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.

He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.

He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.

You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.

Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.

You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.

But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?

A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.

Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.

You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.

Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.

You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.

While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.

Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.

His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.

If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.

Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:

He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.

Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.

He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.

And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.

“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.

And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

thinking about the fe games w/ routes (fates and three houses specifically but probably others idfk)

i think there needs to be more tragedy there. or opportunities for it i guess? or that fire emblem has to make unique death quotes for characters in general man

death in fire emblem feels so blah for me. more of an inconvenience than in other media. like when im playing DnD and an npc i love dies it isnt "man that sucks. anyway" but even w characters i love in fire emblem its just "man do i wanna reset the chapter for this that was so lame"

make death and especially betrayal related deaths Hurt More.

lets say youre byleth. youre teaching the black eagles, yay! but you have a b support with claude. you and claude are good buddies, maybe you just like claude as a character or its accidental because of x y z does Not matter. either way you are one of claudes closest friends. then the war starts, and you choose to side with a woman claude sees as a future tyrant (or at the very least a driven warmonger who might crush the alliance underneath her boot). imagine the hurt. the absolute fucking agony for claude.

and for byleth! byleth wakes up and their friend is gone. on another side, unreachable, 5 years of emotional distance *yawning* in front of them.

and then they reunite in the midst of battle, weapons drawn. theyve both come so far and have goals they *have* to achieve.

"I don't want this."

too bad. if you roll over, you get a game over because you fuckin failed the route. or you have to make someone else kill claude because sumn sumn mechanically you have a 0% hit rate bc of that b support. you cant do it.

too bad. claude cant run away, hes the last line of defense for a place hes responsible for. if he leaves what is he? a coward? a turncoat? would he have to believe in edelgard's future? would he have to slay his own allies, friends, the people who relied on him?

he cant. you cant.

he begs you to reconsider. you cant.

as he falls he reaches out a hand. you kneel beside him as he says a few things. calls this whole battle a clever gambit, praises your cunning in using effective weaponry, etc etc. but his voice is weaker. theres no option to spare him, you couldnt spare any *other* unit, could you? couldn't spare hilda. cant spare claude.

he mentions sometimes dreaming of the monastery. the food was good, right? hope the foods good in the future you build with edelgard. hope you name a town after him, thatd be fun. dont get stupid, teach, dont join him too soon. maybe he'll even wait for ya. keep a seat warm.

(fire emblem unit death sound)

then also: units in your own army.

lets say youre playing black eagles. its nearish endgame but not too close so i dont say any spoilers, but regardless bernadetta and yuri have an A support. they might get hitched postgame man, you havent done the A support of anyone else w those two. its a rough battle, your healer is severely low on psychic uses, you sold all your fucking vulneraries because you thought dorothea was more of a beast than she is. its dire.

unexpected sniper crit. yuri is on 0 hp.

bernadetta is within 5 tiles and instead of yuri's canned death quote, bernie interjects with one of the most well voiced anguished screams youve ever fucking heard. on the next turn, bernie gets +50 hit *and* crit on that enemy, and if she kills it the rest of the scene plays.

bernie is holding yuri, one of her few friends in her hellish fucking life. hes not gonna make it, she knows that, but shes still gonna try. shes wailing and begging him to stay like she wished she had all those fucking years ago, shes babbling about all the things he'll miss if he goes, all the things shes planned for them to do now that shes brave enough to leave her bedroom. he cuts her off to laugh. now is when she gets brave and honest with her feelings? when hes dying? oh bernie come on. he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, kissing her temple like an old boyfriend and not a quiet yearning crush. he murmurs that hes glad she left her bedroom. that hes glad she can see the world beyond what abuse happened to her behind closed doors. that she'll find some other person to hold in his stead, one who wont so rudely get his blood on her battle leathers. one who wont leave her time and time again like he has. she wails into his shoulder as she drops the scraps of cloth she had been trying to use to stop his bleeding and just holds her dying friend.

(fire emblem unit death sound)

if death felt like An Event and not An Inconvenience i'd play with permadeath more man. make me sad fire emblem youre so shit at it

.

[psychosith]

Echo

cal kestis x reader

summary: despite being close for years, you and cal go your separate ways after a particularly harsh argument. cal doesn’t see or hear of you for a long time, but stumbles across an old jacket of yours that reveals something to him

warnings: angsttttt, yelling/arguing, injuries, death, perhaps ooc!mean cal

a/n: i’m so sorry to the reqs sitting in my drafts ive had no motivation😭 specifically to the person who requested modern!anakin @ a halloween party it’s a little late for that now i feel like…. but anyways y’all might not know this but i’m obsessed w our boy cal and UGH. this prompt from @fallen-vic just struck me right and i had to get writing right away

the last four months had been a blur.

one second you were stripping an old star destroyer on bracca with cal, and the next he was fighting an imperial inquisitor while you cowered away in the corner. then you had boarded a ship with a lanky woman and abrasive latero. they had taken you to a planet hidden from the empire, a place where you thought you and cal could live safely. you couldn’t have been more wrong.

cal returned from the temple on bogano that first day talking about restoring the jedi order and a holocron? from there, it was all downhill. back and forth between kashyyyk, zeffo, and dathomir, all the while cal was forced to face strong enemies that left him on the brink of death every day. and you were tasked with patching him up at the end of every mission.

too many times have you entered his rooms while he was preparing to leave again and begged him to stay. it was always the same answer- i’ll be back before you know it. he couldn’t know, though, the feelings you harbored for him. he couldn’t understand how it pained you physically to watch him leave and come back beaten and bruised. but you stayed, because you loved him, and because you believed he wanted you with him.

it was all too much for you today. it seemed insane; they were planning to infiltrate the fortress inquisitorius and retrieve the holocron. you had stopped on a small planet to stock up on supplies before the big mission, and you were in your usual position: pleading with cal.

“cal, please,” you begged, tears welling up in your eyes. “this is just- it’s too dangerous cal! i mean, an imperial fort, for fucks sake! cal, if you didn’t come back from this… i don’t know-“

he cut you off with a reassuring hand on your arm. “y/n, i’ll be alright. i’ll have cere with me, and i’m stronger than ever. trust me.”

“you say that every time, you know. and every time, without fail, you come back closer to death than i’ve ever seen you. cal, we’ve found you passed out in the mud on kashyyyk. we’ve found you slumped against a generator on zeffo with a blaster wound in your stomach. no one will be there to find you if things go wrong this time, cal.” you say numbly, vaguely aware that there’s nothing you can say to make him stay.

“you’re being dramatic.” he says plainly. “you have no reason to be worried. i always come back, y/n. this time will be no different. you need to calm down.”

you groan in frustration, at his naïveté. “no, cal! you don’t understand… how much it hurts to watch you go. and who knows where you would be without me to put your pieces back together.”

you hear him scoff and look down at your hands as tears finally fall down your cheeks. you can tell he’s stressed by the tension in his shoulders.

“without you? y/n, i don’t need you to do this.” his words hurt, but you try to tell yourself the mission is getting to his head, that he doesn’t mean what he’s saying.

“y/n,” he says, waving a hand in front of your face, “did you hear me? i. don’t. need. you. if you’re so worried about me, maybe you should just leave. then i wouldn’t be bothering you so much.” he stood up angrily and marched off.

was he being honest? did he really want you to leave? all these years you had told yourself that he needed you with him, but maybe you had been mistaken.

you didn’t give yourself time to think. cere and greez had both made it clear that your presence on the mantis was unnecessary, and now that cal had said the same you had to go. you only packed the bare essentials: a canister of water, a couple weeks of rations, and a thick jacket for cold nights. you left through the front entrance without a word to anyone. cal simply watched you go.

a year later - cal's pov

there was no use in trying to hide it, it had been a hard year for cal. a year made much harder by your absence. he had tried to tell himself that you leaving was your decision, that it wasn't his fault. but as he played the argument over in his mind he found himself regretting everything he'd said. cal had been nervous, scared even, of the upcoming mission in the fortress. he'd let trilla and the empire get in his head, and it had cost him everything.

even after he'd retrieved the holocron - and ultimately destroyed it - he never searched for you. he didn't know why. the urge had struck him many times, but he never knew where to begin looking or what he would say to get you back.

it hurt even now, as cal lay in his bunk on the mantis weeping silently to himself. the mantis was empty, the engine humming softly as it flew through hyperspace. all the lights were out and cal's pillow was damp with tears. he hesitantly rose from his bed, staggering to the navigation panel in a sleep-deprived stupor. his cheeks are stained and his hair is tousled as he falls back into the pilot's chair, and he plugs the coordinates to a forgotten outer rim planet into the navigation system.

cal was exhausted, hungry, and mentally drained, but he managed to make it back to his bunk before he passed out.

. . .

something in the cockpit beeped quite loudly, waking cal from his sleep and alerting him that they were nearing their destination. the royal blue color of nez peron was pleasing to the eye, but brought back painful memories for cal. this was where they had made their last supply run before heading toward the fortress. this was the last place he saw the love of his life.

landing the mantis was the easy part; finding you, not so much. cal started in the sparse cities, scanning cantinas and shops, asking about a y/n l/n at every apartment complex and inn. he began to lose hope as he neared the edge of the latest city. just then he remembered you talking absentmindedly as he worked on his lightsaber, saying how it was your dream to live in the forest and live off the lands. it sounded crazy at the time, but now it made sense.

with a newfound passion, cal began searching the forests and plains for you. each dead end made him want to find you more and more, but there were no signs of life anywhere he looked.

one day, he was scanning the ground for any human tracks when a piece of fabric caught his eye. it was dusty, black, and oddly familiar. there were pieces of the same fabric just a little further up the trail he was following. up ahead, cal could just make out the shape of your thick winter coat on the ground.

his steps picked up into a light jog as he neared the jacket. as he examined it closer, he saw a dark stain had dried down on the stomach, and when he bent over to pick it up he was flooded with a powerful force echo.

_______

you had misjudged how hard life in the wild would be. the coat you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm, the water you brought only lasted for a few days, and the rations you thought would last had gone bad within the month. you were cold and hungry, and had only a pairing knife to ward off any threats in the forest. this would be a crucial mistake.

it was a particularly cold day and you were resting against a tree when you heard the crunch of leaves and the distinct mechanical whirring of an electrostaff. raiders. well, just one this time. it was a difficult feat, but you managed to ward off the raider not without sustaining many injuries. you had garnered a deep wound in your thigh and a large gash in your shoulder, luckily most of your vital organs were intact.

you hardly had time to catch your breath before a large mammal had sprung up from a ditch and pinned you to the ground. you screamed and struggled for your knife. your wounds had impaired your fighting skills, and you didn’t last long before the predator had beaten you into the floor. it was so, so cold. you must have lost your jacket at some point. you supposed the animal had lost interest, as it wandered off back into the trees, leaving you in a pool of your own blood.

the sun set behind the trees and you were still laying there, unable to move, slowly succumbing to the cold embrace of death. you could form only one coherent thought in your adrenaline crazed mind, and thus it became your last word.

“cal”

_______

the memory was like a knife to the heart for cal. he was helpless as he watched you draw your last breath, only to utter his name before closing your eyes for the final time. it finally dawned on him.

you were dead.

cal fell to his knees beside your tattered coat, a broken cry escaping his lips. it was all his fault. if’s and should’ves ran circles around his mind, but he understood the depth of this. you were gone, stolen from this world far to soon. cal mourned. he sobbed into his hands for hours on end, cursing you for leaving, cursing cere and greez for letting you leave, and cursing himself for letting his love for you blind him. of course he needed you. he always would. but he couldn’t have you any more.

his mind was blurry as he frantically followed the path he was on, searching for your body. he tripped and stumbled down a leaf covered hill, where he saw you. you were exactly as you were in the force echo, but your cheeks were hollow and your skin was sickly green. you had been dead for a long time. cal ran to your body, crying your name. he hoisted you into his arms and wept into your dirty hair.

“i love you” he muttered softly, hoping that perhaps you could hear the words he was to cowardly to speak when you were alive.

a/n 2: BYE the ending is so rushed. sorry.

[captainlunaxmen]

All for the Cameras

Chapter 5

Finnick Odair x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: we'll find a bit more about the reader's past.

Chapter warnings: murder, threat, well.. it's the Hunger Games.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

I'll tag you all on this chapter again to let you all know.ow that this is the blog I'll post the next chapters from now on... since the other one is inoperable. ❤️❤️❤️

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess

I'm sorry if it doesn't let me tag everyone 😔

Masterlist

"Hi, my love."

"Finnick." I shortly reply, using all my strength not to look at him.

There's a short pause before he speaks up.

"What did he want?" He asks.

"To remind me that after we're married I'll be... his." I sigh.

"He wishes." He lets out a soft laugh and I follow, "you look good in that." He then says, nodding to my outfit.

"I'll let you borrow it sometimes." I joke and he chuckles.

"Switching clothes... I like it. I'm sure you'd look a lot better with this on than me." He points at the fish net tied around him.

"Well, the Capitol seemed to appreciate you in it."

"I thought I've been clear earlier," he starts to get closer, "your eyes are the only ones I care about," he lifts my chin up to look at him, "and your lips are the only thing I can think of."

"Finnick..." I weakly warn and he pulls away, going to lean against the opposite wall.

"I could be dead in a week..." he starts.

"Don't say that..."

"I could be dead in a week," he ignores me, "and all I can think about is you. Being with you. All the things I would love to do to you right here, right now... well... actually all night and everywhere, "he laughs embarrassed, I don't think I've ever seen him embarrassed like this before, "I would love to scream to the world how much..."

"Stop it." I basically order him.

"I could be dead in a week." He bitterly laugh, "and I can't even get a kiss."

"Finnick..."

"I'm not blaming you, I want you to know that. If I were to kiss you right now, I don't think I would be able to stop and... they would probably catch us and... they could hurt you. Because I could be dead in a week, but you might have a chance anyway."

I just hug him. Tightly, like if I were to let go he would disappear forever. When I feel his arms around me, I sigh, feeling safe. He kisses the top of my head, holding me just as tight.

I pull away just enough to look at him.

"Don't you ever say that again, you hear me? I hear you say it again and I will kill you myself." I warn him, tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiles.

I nod and pull away completely, blinking away the tears.

"Tomorrow morning the training sessions start at 8. Not that you need any, but... it might be a good chance to make allies." I tell him, "just... put the flirting aside, okay?"

"Jealous?" He teases.

"I'm just trying to keep you alive, at least, until the beginning for the Games." I tease back, earning a laugh from Finnick.

"You can joke about it and I can't?"

"You weren't joking, Finnick." I reminds him.

"You're right." He smiles, guilty, "Thank you."

The elevator signals we're at 12's apartments.

"I thought you press for 4."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a woman go home on her own?" He smirks.

I roll my eyes, failing in hiding a smile.

"Go get some sleep, gentleman." I say.

"Yes, ma'am."

The doors close and I head to the kitchen to get a drink.

"Well, hello." Haymitch greets me from his spot on the couch.

"Tell me you didn't finish the liquor already." I joke walking to the cupboard to take a glass.

"I actually prepared a glass for you," he tells me, showing me the glass, "c'mon. "

I playfully roll my eyes and walk to sit on the couch with him.

We just sit there. Keeping each other company until it's so late we can't do anything but go to sleep.

--------------

I walk around each station of the training rooms to see if anyone need help, but as expected, no one does. They all probably know this place like the back of their hand, being first tributes and then mentors.

I keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta, to see if they're actually putting an effort in making allies... Katniss especially.

I see them walking around, inspecting the other tributes. A good part of the tribute is trying to show off, to intimidate them, most likely. I see Johanna smirking in Katniss' direction, so I look up at Plutarch sighing. Making Katniss trust any of them is gonna be harder than expected... a lot harder.

Peeta is now talking with one of the Morphlings, by the camouflage station, while Katniss is talking to Wiress and Beetee.

In my opinion they're a good choice, they're brilliant, but they're not very strong, and they need some strength too. Unfortunately the strongest one are also the cockiest one.

Speaking of cocky victors... I can't seem to find Finnick anywhere.

But I notice Katniss walking to Mags.

I would choose Mags, but because I know about the plan... Katniss doesn't, I don't understand what she's doing.

I keep on watching everyone until I feel a presence behind me.

"What do you think her strategy is?" Finnick asks from next to me.

"I... I have no idea." I sigh defeated. "But I can't exactly blame her."

"How so?"

"Look at everyone. Each victor either has a cocky, a challenging grin, or a hateful grin on their faces. Not very welcoming. Especially when she has to choose who to trust." I explain.

"That's her only choice though." He replies.

"I know," I sigh again and turn to look at him, noticing just now the rope around his neck, "what the hell is that?"

"What?" He fakes innocence.

"I told you, not to joke about it." I sigh annoyed, walking away from him. Noticing Katniss went into the simulator.

"I was just practicing," He laughs, "you know this is the best knot to learn for the arena."

"I swear, half of the time all I want to do is punch you." I shake my head, stopping to watch Katniss practice.

"And the other half?" He asks, and I don't have to look at him to know he's smirking, proud of himself.

"Punch you harder." I tease back, earning a surprised chuckle from him.

As Kantiss starts more people gather around to watch too.

"She has trust issues, doesn't she?" Johanna stands beside me, looking ahead.

"Maybe don't smirk while wielding an axe next time." I sarcastically reply and she scoffs.

We all stand watching Katniss using her skills and once she's done, everyone is at least impressed, which makes me smirk, proudly. Wiress is actually cheering, clapping her hands and that makes me smile genuinely.

----------

"Good news!" Haymitch cheers as we enter the apartment. "At least half of the Tributes want you as an ally."

"Well, they saw her shoot." Peeta adds.

"Well, sweetheart, you got your pick of the litter." Haymitch tells her.

"Choose carefully." I suggest.

"I want Wiress and Beetee. " She states, with no hesitation.

"Johanna calls them 'Nuts' and 'Volts'." Peeta says.

"They're still the smarter out there. And you need smart." I, subtly, scold him.

"Well, okay, good. Now who else?" Asks Haymitch.

"Mags."

I have no argument to defend her choice... unfortunately.

Peeta turns around, frustrated. Well, I'd be too.

"All right, fine, then no one." Katniss sternly says.

Haymitch and I share a look. We already know we will have to do it ourselves.

"I'll tell them you're still making up your mind." He says before walking away and I follow him, after sending a reassuring smile to Peeta.

"What should we do?" Haymitch asks, once we're alone.

"We will have to make allies for them." I answer, crossing my arms.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I'll start with Johanna, you talk to Finnick."

"You talk to Finnick, I'll talk to Johanna." I tell him.

"And why's that?" He mimics me, crossing his arms, there's a smirk growing on his face.

"... no reason." I avoid his eyes.

"Mh mh..." he hums, "Are you going to be attending the solo performances?"

"Nope." I answer, "I have...wedding duties to attend to."

"Fuck..." he swears, "I don't wanna be in your shoes, princess."

"Yeah... tell me about it." I groan, fighting the urge to pull at my hair.

"What's the plan?"

"Venue hunting... I think... I don't know" I let out a puff, "or maybe, Cal wants to tell me what he decided."

"Sounds more like it." He pulls me to him for a reassuring side hug, "it's his wedding, after all."

"Yeah." I laugh, and pull away, "I'm just an accessory. He will probably decide my dress too."

"Of course he will." He sighs, before he can say more, an Avox approaches up with an envelope in hand, handing it to me.

"Speak of the devil..." I sigh, opening Cal's letter.

"I'm sure the devil would be offended by that." Haymitch playfully scolds me.

"Sorry, I'll apologise when I see him. I'd gladly go to hell than meet up with Cal." I joke back, still reading the letter. "He's apparently waiting for me... eagerly."

"How romantic." He mutters, "will you be here tonight? For the scores?"

"I hope so." I say, "I'll make sure of it."

"Still be careful, princess." He nods his head, "and keep..."

" 'those eyes open', I know." I wink and walk away to the elevator, hoping the day will faster than I hope.

-------------

I don't have time to even walk out of the elevator that Cal's hand is already grabbing my wrist, excitedly leading me to the big table in his huge apartment, where a well dressed man and two assistants, I think, stand.

"Come, come, my sweetness. Mr Travers, here, was just about to tell me a great news, apparently." Cal makes me sit in a chair in front of him, so he can rest his hands on my shoulders. The gesture only makes me feel more trapped.

"Oh, yes, yes." Mr Travers nods, proudly holding his hand out to his assistant, who immediately hands him a paper. "I was coming here with the intention of showing you the options I gathered for your special day, but..."

Capitol people and their fucking theatrical manner...

"But..?" Cal presses, getting impatient.

"But I received a call this morning, just when I put the last picture in the bag... from our so loved President Snow." Mr Travers announces and I tense, "he had an incredible idea, as always. He offered his mansion as a venue for your wedding." He put the photo of the mansion down on the table.

Of fucking course.

"Really?" Cal's hold on me feels even tighter than before... maybe it is, or maybe it's just Snow's control caging me in.

Once the man nods enthusiastically, Cal shouts excited.

"That's wonderful!" He turns to me, "isn't it?"

"Wonderful." I repeat with a forced smile.

"How generous!" He comments.

"He also offered to..." again with the theatre.

"Well?"

"He volunteer to formalise the wedding himself."

"He said that?" I ask, shocked.

"Exact words." Travers nods.

'Volunteer'...

"It's going to be amazing," Cal is back behind me, his hands around my neck in what could seem an affectionate gesture, stroking my skin gently, but it's actually more suffocating than a snake hold.

They both go on and on and on talking about the wedding, as if I'm not even here.

The cake's gonna be like this, the chairs like that, the flowers, the centre-piece, the food, the music...

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, real quick, excuse me." I say standing up, and hurrying to the bathroom near the bedroom.

I try to take deep breath, looking at the time, the solo performances are about to finish. I need to find an excuse to get out. They're not even asking me anything... I scoff at my reflection in the mirror, then I wash my face and open the door.

I gasp when I come face to face with Cal.

"Cal!" I exclaim, immediately faking a laugh. "What..."

"He's gone. We almost got through everything." He tells me.

"Already?" I ask, pretending to be sad I lost it.

"Yeah, gotta be prepared. We should get married when the Quartel Quell is over, and we don't know how long it will last. Maybe two days or two weeks.. gotta be prepared." He smiles.

"Of course." I nod, "well, then I should go. I have to be present, you know, when they announce the scores."

I try to walk past him, but he doesn't move a muscle, enjoying the closeness.

He wraps an arm around my waist to pull me even closer, leaning down so our noses touch.

"How about..." he starts, "you stay here a little longer, uh? We could have some fun together. It's been a while."

"I wish... I really do," I try to come up with the most sorry expression I can, "but I do need to get back. And since we finished earlier than expected, I should take advantage of that. I still have a duty to do."

"Oh please! I miss you." His hold gets a little tighter and he pouts, "Stay. I miss you, I miss your touch... your body... fuck... you still have no idea what you do to me, don't you?"

"Cal, trust me, no one is more sorry than I am, but I have a job to do," I cup his cheek with one hand and he leans into my touch, "Snow counts on me."

"Not even a few minutes?" He tries again and I shake my head, "Okay..."

"I'm sorry." I say, even though inside I'm hitching to run out of here.

I gently pull away from him and walk to the living room to grab my jacket, all of this feeling his eyes on me, constantly.

"I'll go now." I turn to him, to check if he is far enough for my liking and walk back to the elevator.

"Sure."

Before I can walk into the elevator, he grabs my hand, spin me to face him and crashes his lips on mine. His hands grabs everything he can reach. I try to push him off, as subtly as I can, but his touch just intensifies.

Thankfully, before I start to fully panic, he pulls away, just a little, still touching my lips with his, slightly.

"Once we're married..." he pants, "I'm never... ever letting you go." He lets out a breathless chuckle that only makes my skin crawl. "And, hopefully, I'll have no more competition for your attention. I'll make sure of it."

"Yeah." Is all I can say.

Once the elevator's doors open I rush in.

Finally the doors are fully closed and I can breath again.

'I'll make sure of it.' He said...

Finnick.

---------------

"Hey," Peeta is the first one to greet me as I walk back into the apartment, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Uh? Yeah... yeah, all fine." I force out a smile, I notice Haymitch watching me carefully, with a look that seems to say 'we'll talk about it' and I just nod, "so... what did I miss?"

"Oh these two basically put a big target o their own backs." Haymitch states.

"We didn't..." Peeta starts, but Haymitch stops him.

"Our Baker here painted little Rue on the floor. Girl on fire over there hanged a mannequin," he pauses, "after painting Seneca Crane's beard and name on it."

I'm lost for words, I look at both Peeta and Katniss, Peeta doesn't meet my eyes, he doesn't seem remorseful, but still he probably doesn't want to see my discontent. Katniss look at me, no trace of remorse or sorrow, but kind of proud.

"Not a smart move, I give you that," I say to Haymitch who nods thankful, "but it was a damn brave one."

Haymitch looks at me dumbfounded and shakes his head, defeated.

Katniss softly smiles at me and Peeta finally look up at me with a proud grin.

"It's starting." Effie tells us, and we all gather in front of the TV and Ceasar starts listing the tributes' scores

"Has anyone ever received a 0?" Katniss wonders.

-----

It's 12's turn.

"Oh god..." I scoff at the perfect 12 score for both Peeta and Katniss.

"Here, I present to you," Haymitch points at the TV, "the consequences.'

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"They didn't give you a perfect 12 because they were impressed by your performances." I say.

"They did that to make sure that now the other Tributes know who to aim for." Haymitch finishes. "Both of you."

I see Haymitch sends an accusatory look at Katniss knowing they just made our job at protecting Peeta harder.

"Well, the damage is done... better go all to get some sleep." I say with a sigh, "we'll have enough time tomorrow to get ready for the interviews."

Everybody nods and walks to the respective rooms. Effie walks past me, squeezing my hand, reassuringly, I smile at her and watch her go.

I turn around to Haymitch, already looking at me.

"Drink?" He sighs, I nod and follow him to the kitchen.

I sit by the counter as he pours two glasses of wine, I think... I don't really care.

"Thanks." I say as he hands me a glass.

"What happened?" He finally asks, sitting with me.

"Well... for starters the wedding venue is going to be, by courtesy of our kind President, his mansion." I start, then take a bug gulp of wine.

"How kind." Haymitch sarcastically comments.

"Then, since he is, oh so kind and oh so selfless, he will be the one to make us husband and... wife." I say the last part with a shudder.

"Control freak."

I nod and take another big gulp of alcohol.

"But I don't think that's what got you so jumpy." He puts his glass down and gives me his full attention.

"Cal was going through everything with the planner quickly, and they finished just as quickly, so I took the chance and said my goodbye. He caught me off guard and... well he kissed me and he then said he can't wait to be married and all... with no competition," I take a shaky breath, "he said he'd make sure of it."

There's a heavy silence, then Haymitch takes my hand.

"The fisherman is too stubborn to let some spoiled cunt take him out. In any way possible." He reassures me and I can't help, but smile at his choice of word.

"Yeah... maybe you're right." I say squeezing his hand grateful.

"He can't do anything to him from here. He can pay whoever he wants... but your man is hard to get rid of." He winks and I roll my eyes, "you should know that."

"He... he is not my man. Okay? I'm just worried." I defend myself.

"Sure... sure." He stands up to walk to his room, "get some sleep. So tomorrow you can warn 'not your man'. Just in case."

"Shut up."

He turns his back to me, but still raises his glass to me, and I softly laugh.

I decide to go sit by the window, to clear my head or just distract myself.

As I sit by the window with my glass, I take the remote so I can change the view. I skip a few until I get to one that actually makes me relax: the shore.

As I look out towards the artificial view I can't help to think back at when Finnick was announced winner of his Games.

After he was brought back, I managed to let him have a moment to realise he won. That time he hugged like he was afraid of being taken away again. He cried his eyes out as I tried all I could to reassure him. None of us knew what would've happened a few years later...

I almost drop the glass in my hand when I hear someone approaching. I relax once I notice it's Katniss.

"Hi." She says, "didn't mean to scare you."

"You never do." I gently smile at her, "is it the only way we can actually spend some time together?" I jest, remembering the night on the train.

"I'm afraid so." She jokes, "I needed a glass of water."

"Did Peeta need one too?" I ask, pointing to the two glasses in her hands. She seems taken off guard, but doesn't answer, she just puts the glasses down and come sit with me.

"Can I ask you a favour?" She softly says.

"I will try my best to save Peeta. Well, I'll try to get you both as far as I can, anyway." I tell her, thinking that's what she wanted to ask.

"No... no, I know you will." She says, "I wanted to ask you...."

"What?" I look at her, trying to make her feel safe enough to speak up.

"Would you look after my family?" She finally asks. I'm a little take aback by that, but my body relaxes more, feeling my heart getting warmer because she trusts me enough to take care of her family.

"You didn't need to ask me that." I gently tell her, "I would've, regardless."

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course, Katniss... I..." I take a deep breath, "I know what it's like to feel helpless and not being able to protect your family."

She looks at me, confused. "What happened?"

"I had a brother, Ray." I say, my voice breaking a little, Katniss' features soften, "do you know how I became Snow's 'protégé'?"

She shakes her head.

"My parents worked for him, apparently they were both very loyal and hard working." I start to explain, "when they died, he thought to take us in, to show Panem how generous he was, you know. It was all good for a while, he kind of taught me a lot, unfortunately, but the problems started when he assigned me to help the mentors." Kantiss nods as I speak, attentive, "after a while I couldn't take it anymore. I always got attached to the tributes, and seeing them killed in the arena was... devastating. And I made the mistake of asking him if I could stop. He didn't like it."

"He killed your brother for that?" She asks, I notice tears in her eyes forming.

"He imprisoned him, and threatened if I said no to him again he would've killed him." I tell her, "so I had to keep on assisting the mentors. Then... Finnick won. Which was the happiest day of my life, not only because I didn't want him to die, but also because I thought that maybe... just maybe, Snow would've let me see my brother. He didn't." I take a shaky breath, "when I turned sixteen he asked me to do something, he wanted to give me another 'assignment'... one I really didn't want to do. He had my brother brought into his office... then he had him killed." I notice a tear falling from her eyes as I wipe my own away, "he kept his word. He showed me he always kept his word. I wanted to die in that moment, I wanted to attack him so the Peacekeeper would shoot me, but he predicted that. Told me if I tried to get myself killed in anyway all my friends would die... and my friends included the tributes. Mentors I met, and tributes who won and I accompanied during the victory tour."

"He got you caged." Katniss says softly and I nod. "I knew I misjudged you when I first met you. But I never thought..."

"I know." I sadly smile at her, "I never blamed you."

"I'm really sorry."

"He keeps say that it's the things we love the most that destroy us." I look out the window again, "which is true... but as members of the human race we can't live without love. So I guess we are doomed." I bitterly chuckle.

"Love also makes us strong."

We both turn around to see Peeta standing there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I also didn't want to interrupt." He apologies, genuinely sorry.

"It's okay. I care about you both, I wanted to share my story with you for a while, but I mean... it's not something you just casually say." I shrug.

"No, it's not. Thank you for trusting us." Katniss says.

"No." I shake my head, "Thank you for trusting me."

They both smile at me.

"Do you want us to keep you company?" Peeta asks.

"Go get some sleep, you need it. I'm okay." I reassure them.

"It's not a problem." Katniss tries.

"I'm fine." I smile at her, "I better try to get some sleep myself, anyway."

I stand up, Katniss soon follows, and walk with them until we're in front of Peeta's room.

"Goodnight." I smile at them.

"Goodnight."

"'Night."

-------------------

I'm bouncing my leg as I wait for the elevator to stop at the 4th floor so I can finally talk to Finnick.

Once the doors open I rush in finding Finnick with Mags at the table. I stand here a moment, looking at how normal they look, talking. Like a family, and not like two people about to be sent into a deadly arena.

Then, Finnick's eyes move and lock with mine. His smile brightens for a moment, before noticing my fidgeting hands, then it turns serious.

"Y/n?"

Mags turns to me too, she stands up once she notices my nerves.

"I... I need to talk to Finnick." I say.

Mags walks past me, after giving my hands a good reassuring squeeze, then she leaves us alone.

"Is something wrong?" Finnick asks, standing up too and walking to me.

I lead him to the window so we can sit and talk.

"I... well...uh... yesterday I had to go see Cal," I start, and notice Finnick jaw already tensing, "for the wedding... he and the planner finished rather quickly and when I was leaving... uh..."

"Did he hurt you?" He asks, immediately looking for any sign on me.

"No, no, no." I quickly assure him, "it's what he said."

"What did he say?"

"He said he can't wait to marry me and to finally have me all to himself... with no competition." I look him in the eyes, he frowns, "he said he would make sure of it."

"What... what does it mean?" He asks.

"It means... you need to be more careful in the arena." I sternly say.

"Do you think he would try something?"

"I don't know. He does have enough money to corrupt any other Gamemaker, but the last word is always the Head Gamemaker, but... uh... just be careful." I say, with a soft voice, "Please..."

He looks at me with his sweet eyes and takes my hand in his.

"I will."

"Promise me." I literally order him.

He holds my hand tighter, serious eyes locked on mine.

"I promise you."

I nod, taking a deep breath, not relieved, but a little calmer.

"Thank you." I let out a big sigh and pull myself together, "Alright, uhm... the interviews will start at 8... the usual stuff, you know the drill.." I stand up.

"Thanks." He smiles, standing as well.

We look at each other, the world seems to disappear, his eyes are all I care about on this moment. I make the mistake of looking at his lips for a second, my eyes move quickly between his eyes and his lips, anxiously. He notices and comes closer, taking my hands once again.

"It's okay." He whispers.

"It's really not, but I appreciate the lie." I sadly chuckle, and he does too, caressing my hands.

"You're right, it's not okay. But it's not your fault." He reassures me, "okay?"

I nod and he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me reassuringly.

"You're the one who has to fight for his life... and here you are... comforting me." I mutter, pulling away.

"Yeah, well... you're the one who'll have to deal with Cal Kingslay, not me." He jokes and I laugh, showing his slightly.

"Hard to tell which is worse." I play along.

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder, I turn around to Mags worried face.

"It's okay." I tell her, she then points at me insistingly, "I am okay, I promise."

She smiles sweetly at me, then points at Finnick then at herself, with a determined look, to tell me she's going to take care of him in the arena.

"Take care of each other. Okay?" I ask her and she nods.

"We will." Finnick rubs my arm, comforting.

"Okay... okay, I do have to go and get my tributes ready" I tell them.

"We'll see you tonight then?" He asks as he leads me to the elevator.

"I'll be in the audience." I smile at him.

"The only reason to be on that stage tonight." He grins, "so I can properly look at you."

"Finnick.." I playfully warn him.

"What?" He fake innocence, "I will flirt with you for as long as I can."

"You're insufferable." I roll my eyes and enter the elevator. "Careful on what you say tonight."

He nods, a sweet childish smile grows on his face.

"I'll see you tonight, my love." He says just before the doors close, preventing me from scolding him more.

I shake my head and deeply sigh. As the elevator goes back up to 12, I start to think of a way to properly protect them all in the arena. I know Plutarch will help, but too much help will get suspicious... and if Cal manages to pay someone, it would get harder.

I'm not losing any of them.

I'm not losing him.

[lament4piligrim]

Frozen heart knows no pain

Part 1

Chapter 1

Bi Han knelt in front of his father, biting his tongue until it bled, not daring to oppose a single word he said. 'You are the heir to this great clan. You should understand better than anyone how important this alliance is to us. Cut this thread and everything we've ever held dear will disappear.'' Of course, Bi Han understood. But he didn't understand why he should commit his life to a woman he had no feelings for. There were enough noble families in their clan that were devoted to Lin Kuei with all their hearts - marrying one of them off to the daughter of a friendly clan was quite possible. Why him? He hadn't even seen this woman's face!

So many thoughts were running through his head that it was about to explode. His father would be happy that this unworthy son would die here with his head bowed in shame. Clenching his hands into fists, scratching his palms, Bi Han nodded in agreement. The Grandmaster wouldn't accept any other answer anyway.

Kuai Liang and Tomas stood outside the door, humbly waiting for their brother. They hoped that their brother would be able to persuade their father not to be so rash, and that he would in turn be sympathetic to his son's choice. After all, there was nothing wrong with Bi Han falling in love with a simple village girl; besides, Mingzhu was a Lin Kuei warrior with potential.

But from Bi Han's slumped and irritable look, they realised that the attempt had failed.

"Don't be upset, Bi Han. Maybe we can try to convince father?" Kuai Liang offered enthusiastically, patting his older brother on the back.

However, Bi Han ignored him and silently retired to his quarters.

How naive they are…

Their father had easily fooled his brothers. He showered them with love and care and let them do whatever they wanted, thus creating the false image of a father they needed. If Bi Han had told them that they had given their hearts to a hypocrite, neither Kuai Liang nor Thomas would have believed it. They would simply conclude that Bi Han was just overheated and not thinking clearly, or that he was simply exaggerating.

Bi Han closed himself in his room without lighting the candles, walked to his bed and heavily collapsed face down on the soft pillows. He was too irritated and tired for any further training. Little did he need to injure someone else out of a fit of rage.

Unsure of how much time had passed, Bi Han heard a knock on his door. The first time, he ignored it. The second time, he ignored it… For the third time, the visitor had no more patience and raised his voice:

"Bi Han? It's me. Are you there?"

Mingzhu.

How would he face her? How would he say he had to agree to this mayhem?

"I'm coming in."

It looked like Bi Han had lain in his chambers for a very long time, since Mingzhu was in her casual clothes that she wore after training. She had a smile lighting up her face that made it seem as if she had never known adversity. The fresh fragrance of the oils on her skin pleasantly hit his nose. Bi Han slowly turned his head towards her, admiring her.

He didn't want to hurt her.

"Bi Han, I… understand. You couldn't resist Grandmaster," Mingzhu had a guilty look on her face.

Why did she feel guilty? It's not her fault at all that he's being tried to marry an unknown person! She shouldn't have to carry that burden on her.

"If I am a nuisance…"

"No."

Bi Han stood up abruptly and approached Mingzhu.

"Don't dare," he gently took her face with his palms and showered her with light kisses, "Let that old man do what he wants. But there's no way I'm giving up on you. As soon as I become Grandmaster, I will break this marriage."

"Bi Han…"

"I won't give up on you. If only you don't refuse, if only you don't want me to be a part of your life anymore, I will never accept this marriage. I don't care what anyone else thinks."

"I won't give up on you, Bi Han."

Cryomancer felt relieved. As long as they have each other, they can overcome this together. His brothers understand him and will accept any choice he makes. Mingzhu is by his side and won't give up on him, even if she has to be as a lover in everyone else's eyes. The rumours will be disgusting, but it will be his father's fault for dragging him into his games. Bi Han will be able to protect Mingzhu from evil looks and cruel sneers. All they have to do is wait until the power is in his hands. Then he can make things right.

Evenings in Harbin had never been warm. For those who once chose a life of luxury in a developed infrastructure, that did not seem to be a problem. But others who followed tradition faithfully, continuing to live as clans among the deserts, mountains and forests, coped with the cold in all sorts of ways. There were times when there was a catastrophic lack of resources for heating, and some clan warriors had to work tirelessly in the nearest towns to earn good money for firewood and coals.

As it happened, this year's winter was even harsher and more ruthless. Everyone in the small village felt its power, not risking to go outside.

Only one person was too insensitive to this weather. She didn't feel the frost that cut through her skin with sharp blades. Her heart and soul had long ago been covered with a thick layer of unbreakable ice.

Xuehua watched the woods from the balcony of her chambers, trying to digest what had happened in the past few days. As a result, they had decided to marry her off. So that she wouldn't feel "hurt" by her younger sister's gross misdemeanour. Both of them would marry worthy young men, but Xuehua would bring great benefits to their clan.

She had never experienced such an insult before. And for some reason, everyone in the clan supported her mother's decision, not caring that the victim should have gone into seclusion, come to her senses and find peace in her soul, rather than going into the arms of a strange man. And worse for the Lin Kuei Grandmaster's son.

Indeed, fate favours her.

It seemed that no one was going to stand up for her. Just hearing that a favourable candidate was coming from Lin Kuei, everyone seemed to lose their heads at the future gains. Her mother glowed with pride that her eldest daughter would be the future mistress of such an esteemed and powerful clan; some only encouraged and supported her enthusiasm. The younger sister might have opposed it, thinking it was too cruel to her. But under the pressure of the adults, she chose to remain silent, holding her fiancé's hand tightly.

'It's too late, sweetheart. There's no need to fake play. You got what you wanted,' Xuehua thought bitterly, clenching her icy hands on the railing.

"You haven't left your room in a while, jiejie. I was worried," the girl behind heard her younger brother's voice.

"It's not necessary,"

"Grandmaster was here. They have discussed things,"

"Of course they did," Xuehua snorted.

Sure enough, they had already decided everything, ignoring her existence. Mother is probably already jumping with joy.

"Maybe it's best for you, A-Hua? Away from A-Lu? It won't make you feel any better that she's staying here with that jerk. She intends to move your lab as well…"

"If she goes in there, she can't expect any good from me."

"Jiejie, I will do my best to make sure she is punished later," my brother took her cold hands in his palms, "Though I'm against mother's decision, but I think you'll do better in Lin Kuei. A-Lu gave them all sweet talk, now they're eager to get you out of here as soon as possible. Maybe they'll treat you better there. Think about it."

Brother's words didn't make it any easier. It was unlikely that she would be treated better in Lin Kuei. After all, this was a warrior clan that recognised power. And she was just a healer, albeit the best one currently living in all the clans.

Well, if there's nowhere else for her to go, she'll try to find her niche there. Maybe there'll be someone she'll feel comfortable with.

Maybe she should try to give herself and her future husband a chance.

P.S. Xuěhuā - "Snowflake", Míngzhū - "Pearl"

In the art below Xuehua's appearance close to my imagination. Art is from Pinterest, user @xichdiemcotich

[writeandsurvive]

Summary: Alden mistakes your relationship with Tobias Fornell for something it is not

Warnings: talks of grief, mentions of Emily Fornell's death, attack by a frame, wound, blood, jealousy, NCIS normal stuff

Author's note: I still think Emily's death was unnecessary but that's another debate. I had to give Tobias love bc damnit, he deserves the world. Based on ep 19x17 'Starting Over'

Permission ~ Alden Parker

Seeing Tobias Fornell walking into the bullpen brought some familiarity that instantly warmed your heart. You rushed to him, arms extended and hugged him pretty tight. "Hi sweetheart," he whispered, kissing the side of your head and returning the hug. He then greeted the rest of the team, included Alden, whom he hasn't seen in a long time. You smiled seeing them being friendly with each other and wished to see more of that.

Tobias started to talk about the victim, whom he sponsored in the grieving group, but it wasn't any help as Tobias thought Thomas was making progress. Eventually, the team got back to their desks to keep investigating while your favorite person said he was going to say hello to Jimmy down in Autopsy.

"Permission to go with?" You asked Alden.

"Um, yeah, sure."

You immediately grabbed Tobias's hand and the two of you walked towards the elevator, unaware that Alden stared until you were out of sight. In the elevator, the former FBI agent pulled you in for another hug. "How are you today, T?" You asked softly.

"I feel like I failed Thomas." He sighed. "But I'm glad to see you. I miss you."

"I miss you too. I'm sorry work has been crazy lately,"

"Hey, hey, don't apologize. I know how it is. I guess I miss having you at home."

After Emily's death, you made the choice to move in with Tobias without asking for his opinion. He was a mess - fairly so - and you didn't like the idea of him being alone. So you had grabbed your essentials, and made yourself at home in his spare bedroom. To be fair, Tobias hadn't had the strength to fight you on this, so he just let you. He even let you when you took a few days off to stay with him, try to get him out of bed even if it was just for a walk around the block. He let you feed him, hug him as he cried, take care of the house. You also took care of Emily's funeral and all the paperwork as Tobias couldn't bring himself to do it. He was dead inside and if it wasn't for you, he probably would've done the irreparable.

"You literally packed my stuff and brought them back to my place." You reminded him.

"Because an amazing woman like you shouldn't be living with her old ass broken friend." He kissed your cheek. "Alden wouldn't understand." He softly smiled.

"We are so not doing this again."

Luckily the elevator's doors opened immediately after.

The case was moving forward, and Tobias stayed around. He clearly wanted to be a part of the case, probably out of guilt and also perhaps he missed working cases. However Alden wasn't giving him anything to do, which makes sense when you think about it - he wasn't a federal agent anymore - but that frustrated you. Seeing your friend walking around the office like a lost puppy hurt.

"I can give T my laptop and he can help me with my research." You offered.

"I said no, Agent L/N." Alden answered firmly. "You're actually coming with me to see this other woman."

You sighed but grabbed your stuff anyways. You kissed Tobias's cheek before leaving, "Sorry I tried." You whispered.

Throughout the elevator ride and the walk to the car, you could feel Alden's frustration. He wasn't speaking to you like he usually is, he wasn't even looking at you. "T could use the distraction." You said, as you got into the car.

"It doesn't have to be our case. He's not an fed anymore and he knew the victim."

"And he feels like he failed the guy! Helping us would actually help him."

"Wow." Alden chuckled dryly.

"What?"

"For years I've heard about this girl who would protect Fornell with her life, go after anyone who went after him. I honestly thought she didn't exist, but boy was I wrong."

"Do you have a problem with my relationship with Tobias?" You asked, slightly offended.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your work and our cases, I honestly don't care."

You switched from offended to hurt. How stupid were you for thinking that Alden may reciprocate your crush. He clearly wasn't, he couldn't care less about you on a personal level. You stayed silent the rest of the ride, looking at the city through the window. Alden didn't talk either.

The silence treatment didn't stay on for long, as Thomas's other girlfriend threw a frame at Alden's after he told her about his actual wife. You jumped from the couch to check on him. "Alden, hey! You okay? Can you hear me?" He was holding his forehead but you still saw some blood dripping. "Let me see." You gently pulled his hand away and check at the wound. "Yeah you're gonna need some stitches."

The woman was still crying and shouting at you two to get out of her house. For a moment, you consider arresting her for assaulting a federal agent, but Alden simply said 'let's go' and you were walking back to the car.

You started to fish inside his coat pocket. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the car keys." You checked the other one.

"Pants." He said, leaning against the car. "Tell me you have a tissue or something?"

After looking at him for a second, you shrugged and searches for the keys in his pants pockets. You knew it was highly inappropriate but your hands behind so close to him and his crotch, did something to you. You took a deep breath before opening the car. Once inside, you took your knife and cut a piece of your shirt. "Again, what are you doing?"

"You need some tissue."

"Well yeah but not from your own clothes."

"I don't have anything else, so it's either that or your fancy suit."

He sighed but didn't argue. You pulled his hand away again, and started to clean the blood that dripped out of the wound. You were so gentle, and so close to Alden, it made him uncontrollably blush. When you brushed his hair away, he closed your eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling. "I'm not hurting you?" You asked softly, making his heart go faster.

"N-no. It's okay."

"It's going to be fun for you to explain this scar." You giggled.

"Better than explaining the one I have on my thigh."

When he saw the curiosity on your face and your grin, he regretted every word. "Don't--"

"What happened to your thigh, Alden?" You asked, still grining. "Hold this until you get back to the office."

"I won't tell you."

You settled back into your seat and started to drive. "I can be pretty annoying and stubborn."

"Yeah, I gathered that."

You gave a death stare but a few seconds later, you were both laughing.

You didn't bother going to the bullpen but instead took Alden immediately to Jimmy in Autopsy, where Tobias and Grace were.

"I got an patient for you, Jim!" You announced almost cheerfully.

"Oh wow, what happened to you, Parker?"

Alden sat on the chair Jimmy gave him. "He got attacked by a frame." You told them, after hugging Grace.

"Aaah, those nasty things." Tobias chuckled. You moved close to him, as he was leaning against an autopsy table. You grabbed his arm with yours and leaned your head on his shoulder, and started to tell the full story while Jimmy was patching up Alden. He barely looked at you or Tobias.

Alden really tried to avoid you after that, but it was almost impossible. He hated how you told the story of his wound, not because you were saying it with a smile, but because all he could think about was the after, in the car. He could still smell you from up close, he could still feel your minty breath on his face. He's never been into a friend's girlfriend before and he had no idea what to do. All he knew was how he hated whenever you hug, kissed or touched Tobias, how jealous he felt when he heard you and Tobias making plan for the evening. Clearly you were spending the night at T's place, and he wished it was him. He almost found an excuse to make you stay but realized how petty that was. This case couldn't end fast enough.

The next day, Alden was relieved to see you coming in without Tobias. You stopped at his desk, to grab a pastry and leaned a little to have a closer look at his wound. "It's good you don't have a bruise or anything else. It is hurting?" You asked. He wished you weren't this sweet and thoughtful with him.

"It throbs at times but it's okay. I'll live."

"Good, would be a shame to lose you to a framed picture." You smiled and walked to your own desk.

A minute later, a text popped on his phone. 'What happened to your thigh?' he read. He looked up to you and you were looking all innocent, concentrating on your computer.

'None of your business. Stop thinking about my thigh and get to work.' he answered, and regretted it immediately. Was he flirting with you through texts? God, Tobias was going to give him a matching wound on the other side.

'Can't help it. Is it a big or small scar? Where is it exactly?'

Were you flirting back? Alden's head was exploding. What kind of woman were you to do something like this? And why couldn't stop himself from answering.

'Want me to show you?'

'Bet.'

It was official, Alden Parker was going to hell. But he was happy cause he knew he would take you with him.

It wasn't a Tobias Fornell free day. He showed up in the afternoon to check on the team and the case. Alden agreed for him to have an update, which you happily gave him. Tim and Nick were out of the office to interrogate your other suspect, and Jess was in the lab, checking things with Kasie. So, Tobias simply grabbed a chair and settled next to you. Alden felt extremely uncomfortable, especially when he noticed how your behavior towards his friend was the same. Like there hasn't been some speakable texts between you two earlier. He felt bad for Tobias. The man has been through so much over the years and now this.

At some point, Alden couldn't take it anymore so he excused himself and walked away. Almost immediately, Tobias kissed your cheek and said he'd be right back. "Fornell, don't do whatever I feel like you're gonna do!" You exclaimed.

"I love you." He mouthed and disappeared at the same corner Alden did. You sighed and your heart started to race.

When Alden saw Tobias coming in the bathroom, he expected to be punch soon enough. Should he prepared himself to duck or should he let Fornell hit him? After all, he did deserve that punch and maybe more. But Tobias was smiling.

"You okay, Fornell?"

"Are you?"

"I-huh? Yeah?"

"How long are you going to beat around the bush, Parker?"

"Um, what? What are you talking about?"

"I know that Gibbs had the rule 12 about dating a coworker. And Y/N learned the job through his rules, but come on. This one has been broken many times, even by Gibbs himself."

"Look Tobias, I'm sorry, okay? I know I shouldn't be interested your girlfriend, and it'll go away. I promise you, nothing--" Alden stopped when he heard a laugh coming from Tobias.

"Wait, you think she's my girl?"

"She's not?" Alden exclaimed, a bit to intensely.

"Okay, let's go get a coffee."

In the breakroom, they sat at a table, cups of coffee in front of them. "I'm gonna be honest, if my life has been different and if I was significantly younger, she would have a ring around her finger and I'd have kicked your ass." Tobias started.

"Fair enough."

"My relationship with her is--special, to say the least. A while ago, she named us 'platonic soulmates' and I guess it fits." Alden nodded. "And if you want to date her, you're gonna have to be okay with that."

"Obviously." Alden chuckled. "Clearly if she had to choose, it'd be you." He took a sip of his coffee. "But even though I'm slightly younger than you, I'm still much older than her."

"And does it seem like something she would mind?" Alden shook his head no after a few seconds. "Look man, you will not be able to help a better partner than her. We're talking about someone who moved in with me after my daughter passed away to support me. She even used her vacation time for that. She handled everything for me, even though she was hurt too cause she knew Emily for almost ten years. I literally had to move her out of my place, and honestly, I only did after she told she had a crush on you."

Alden was extremely moved by what he was hearing. He knew you were someone very special, someone who would give and do everything for the ones she loves, but this was another level. It made him fall for you even more.

"I don't even know what to say." He answered honestly.

"She deserves to be happy and loved. And as much as I love her, it's a different kind of love. Not the kind of love, I know you can give her."

Alden stayed silent. "However, if you just want to hook up cause she's insanely hot, find someone else."

"That's not the kind of man I am."

"I believe you. But never forget that I still have a gun, and you saw me use it a few times."

The case finally came to an end, and you were all very happy and relieved. Alden has been distant from you since his conversation with Tobias and T refused to tell you what they talked about. It was driving you crazy, and even making you feel uncomfortable whenever your team leader was around. What did he know? What did he think?

After coming back from the lab to the bullpen, you were surprised to see everyone was gone except for Alden, who was still typing at his computer. "Where's everyone?" You asked, avoiding looking at him.

"I sent them home."

"Oh, okay."

You started to work on your paperwork again before Alden spoke up again. "You can go too. Tobias is probably waiting for you."

This time, you did look at Alden who was still focus on his screen. "Wait, what do you think my relationship with Toby is exactly?"

Alden finally stopped typing and looked up to you. "What is your relationship with Tobias exactly?" He asked.

You sighed. This was taking you back a few years back when the guy you were dating was getting jealous of Tobias, accusing you of having an affair with him, being in love with him. And you hated that. "Like I said, if you have a problem with--" Alden stood up from his chair and walked over to your desk. He leaned against it, his body fairly close to you.

"I don't have any problem with it. It's obvious that if I want to have you, I need to accept him."

You looked at him, all lost and confused. "Wait--what? What do you--? What?"

Chuckling, Alden crotched down and made you chair spin so you were facing him. "Would you allow me to take you on a date? I've got Tobias's permission." He said with a huge smile.

You stayed silent for a moment, mouth opened. "Are you serious, right now?"

He stood up just enough so that he could grab your chin and gently pressed his lips against the corner of your mouth. You melted under his touch. "Very serious."

"Will you show me your thigh and tell me the story?" You whispered making him laugh.

[graendoll]

So I just read this post and have some additional thoughts. I'm making a new post so as to avoid any potential shipping nonsense on OP because no one wants that.

Basically OP is talking about how Buck's storyline is about learning how to love and be loved and Eddie's is about self-discovery (very abbreviated overview...please read the original).

Anyway, Buck's storyline being around learning how to love and be loved made me start thinking about Tommy and how he fits into this.

(Full disclosure I ship Buddie. I am not a multishipper, but generally don't have a problem with other ships. I just avoid their content because it hurts my feelings 😅.)

The way that Tommy has been presented thus far is, imo, another stepping stone on the path of Buck realizing what he really wants so he can find a fulfilling endgame love/partner. The post I linked goes through the lessons Buck learned from his other romantic partners, and so far Tommy has been framed as "the LI that makes Buck realize he's queer".

The few scenes they've had together up to now really don't feel like the way an endgame LI gets presented. I know folks are rooting for him and Buck to be it, but the writers would have to pivot a lot to do that. (Not that they can't, just...it WOULD be a pivot).

First, Tommy did not pursue Buck. Buck is pretty consistently chasing after his failed romances and Tommy is no different.

Second, the narrative choices have inserted Tommy in specific scenarios between Buck and Eddie. Tommy and Buck have really only been Eddie-less two times. First, when they had coffee and Buck asked him out and second, when they kissed in the hospital. Both of these were ways to move Buck's story forward and had little to do with the development of Buck/Tommy because narratively they're entirely one sided. Tommy comes to coffee so Buck can admit he wants to try something and they kiss in the hospital so Buck can come out to the firefam without making a lengthy, time sucking speech.

Tommy is there in both cases to move Buck's story along. Every other interaction between the two has either had Eddie in the scene or mentioned him a strange amount. I don't remember any of the other people Buck dated being framed so closely to Eddie or having Eddie haunt their relationship the way he has with Tommy.

This doesn't mean Eddie and Buck are endgame, but what it does mean is that Tommy is LIKELY a plot device to propel Buck's narrative along. (A narrative which includes a pre-packaged family, btw, who love him exactly as he is. Which maybe he'll decide he DOESN'T want, we don't know.) As OP of the linked post said, Buck is learning how to love and be loved and Tommy, while significant what with the bisexuality of it all, really just feels like another step in this process to me.

Obviously this is just one woman's opinion and like OP I'm old and have been disappointed too many times to put my whole chest into believing Buddie is endgame, but right now the narrative isn't really implying Buck/Tommy is either so whatever happens I think Buck is still a work in progress regarding his HEA.

(Also it shouldn't need to be said but please don't get spicy about ship wars kthxbye)

Edited because tumblr is being weird about embedded links on my phone....

[batrachised]

Can you please tell me more of your conspiracy theory that Hilary was the one to burn down Silver Bush?

DELIGHTEDLY. First, a point of order: this basic idea behind the theory is not mine! It belongs to a random book reviewer whose name has been lost to the sands of time of my brain :(

A year ago, I was reading an article about Mistress Pat which hit on the common discussion points of the book - Pat seems unwell, Pat and Silver Bush are kind of the real couple, the book is kinda eerie - and then it ended with the galaxy brained joke that Hilary was one the one to burn down Silver Bush, and I loved it so much I have spread it with fervor since.

There's not specific textual evidence or anything of the sort, but there's also not really anything to contradict it besides the in-text guess that it was May leaving a pot on the stove. In fact, it fits it so neatly with the neurotic behavior and disturbing undertones of Pat that I think it's brilliant. What follows is the mutterings of a deranged woman, but bear with me.

Hilary, in a way similar to Teddy, is largely absent from Mistress Pat. I believe he only makes an appearance a couple of times in the book; the vast majority of the time, as with Teddy, he's offscreen building his career as an (of course, because he is Pat's romantic interest) architect. As such, it conveniently gives him a large amount of leeway to basically be doing whatever he (or whatever I, with my handmade tinfoil hat) wants to offscreen.

First: Silver Bush only burns down after Hilary learns of Judy's death. We learn this here:

She had packed the picture up after Judy's death and sent it to Hilary. He had never even acknowledged it...that hurt her...but as she had sent it to his office she felt quite sure he must have received it.

There are several take-aways we can get from this. First, Judy was an extremely significant tie of Pat's to her old life that was now gone, clearing the way for Hilary to move in. Second, Hilary himself confirms that it was Judy writing him a note her deathbed that gave him the courage to try for Pat's hand, despite failing at every point in the past due to Pat's attachment to Silver Bush - except, oh wait, Silver Bush then burns down.

Second: no one actually knows what burns down Silver Bush. May is accused of leaving a pot on that exploded, but even that is presented as an educated guess.

Third: obviously, the loss of Silver Bush sends Pat reeling. Silver Bush burning down - and this is actually true based on the text, not wild conspiracy theory - was necessary for Pat to marry Hilary. If it had not, Pat would have never left. Both Pat and Hilary confirm this. We have Hilary's words upon returning:

Besides, you were taking me too much for granted, Pat. You were blinded by our years of friendship.

Then we have Pat's general emotional state:

They all went to Swallowfield until things could be settled. Pat took no part in the settling. Life had suddenly become for her like a landscape on the moon.

Mother was really pleased at the thought of going back to her old home to live. "Mother is younger than I am," thought Pat drearily.

She felt horribly old. Her love for Silver Bush had kept her young...and now it was gone. Nothing was left...there was only a dreadful, unbearable emptiness...She had a terrible feeling that she did not belong anywhere...or to anybody...in this new sad lonely world.

Not in a good place, Pat! Unless...someone takes advantage of the psychological moment and...

Fourth: Hilary conveniently reappears after years of absence, and then.. and THEN....AND THEN...HAS A HOUSE ALREADY BUILT FOR PAT. Keep in mind, this is two weeks after Silver Bush burned - yet Hilary is like oh look what I have for you :) just conveniently ready :)

He says this, which we can believe or not:

I started as soon as I saw the account of the fire in an Island paper. [reader: batrachised is Suspicious]. But I was coming anyway...I had only been waiting to finish our house. I know what this tragedy of Silver Bush must have meant to you...but I've a home for you by another sea, Pat. 

HMMMMM.

So, there is my case. Now, Hilary is a BELOVED character of mine, and I do not actually think this angel boy would do this; in fact, I think he deserves far, far better than Pat. However, I do think the idea of Pat marrying someone who would burn down Silver Bush to get her is a fascinating commitment to the Shirley Jackson afterflavor of the series. It fits the mood and tone well. Was it intended by LM Montgomery? Absolutely not - but neither was Pat coming across the way she did.

EDIT: I would like to add, this is quite literally the final line of the Pat series:

The old graveyard heard the most charming sound in the world...the low yielding laugh of a girl held prisoner by her lover.

[90sbee]

The patrol is over

Leon S. Kennedy x Ashley Graham

2k words. Also on ao3

As Leon and Ashley await for the helicopter to take them to safety, Leon is slowly spiralling, full of concern still. It is then that a ghost from his past decides to visit him.

What can I say, I had this idea already and then I saw Leshley Week... It was like the perfect excuse to write and post this one. Also this fic is quite silly but, hey, I love writing Leon's pov. Also @lightning-hawke is a sweetheart and she made sure that this was readable. Everybody please thank you to this brave soldier who had to face my 3am delusional writing.

Content: All Leon's pov, angsty and sad but also. Cathartic. Ash is asleep the whole time cos baby needed a nap after all that. Spooning, protective!Leon.

Warnings: Hallucinations, anxiety. Mention of guns, knives, zombies. Sleep deprivation. And I think that's it? Yeah, this is actually SFW, for once, haha.

It’s been three hours. Maybe four. Perhaps five.

Leon can’t sleep. He has tried it, though, but his body is still running on adrenaline and anxiety and he doubts that he will actually get some rest today.

Whatever. He has had it worse.

Ashley is passed out on the bed, curled up into herself, softly snoring. Leon blinks, trying to keep his eyes open. Even if his body is exhausted, his mind is still rushing through all the different scenarios in which this could still go wrong, heart rattling inside his chest.

What if Luis was wrong? What if the Plagas is still inside them? What if he ends up falling asleep, body going slump on this old chair and when he wakes up, he has hurt her?

God. Such idea gives him goosebumps, and he sits even farther from the bed.

What if instead, it is her? What if Ashley opens her eyes and tries to attack him?

Leon eyes the knife on the nightstand, the guns on the floor.

He knows he wouldn’t use any weapon against her, anyway. But if she hurt anyone, he’d be responsible.

God. Fuck responsibilities and guilt. It would’ve meant he had failed.

His blood runs cold then.

A failure. Assigned on what was, probably, the most important mission in his life. The president’s daughter involved, and what was supposed to be one of the top agents in the country, ruining everything. Returning a shadow of a woman, a timebomb.

Leon hides his face in his hands for a while, trying to catch his breath.

He knows he is spiralling.

He has to keep some faith: faith in Ashley, faith in Luis.

In himself, even if he is not used to it.

He looks at her, pursing his lips.

She breathes so calmly. Expression soft, features finally having some well-deserved rest. She is so gorgeous too. A soul too kind for him. He feels guilty for refusing to accept her proposal, though he is aware that being her bodyguard would have never actually been possible.

He blushes slightly, knowing that she at least wanted his company for a little longer. Maybe he is not so useless after all. She had also asked him to hold her to sleep, but he had simply shaken his head. “You’ll be fine, I promise. You’ll probably have a better rest taking up the whole bed”.

He sighs, crossing his arms. Leon is not sure how long it will take until the helicopter arrives. He hopes it is soon, because his head hurts and he feels hungry but he can’t leave her side and he definitely doesn’t trust the police officers next door.

No, scratch that.

He wishes the helicopter never arrives.

Because that means it is all over.

His gaze softens as he looks at her, feeling his heart pulling at its strings. For a moment, he considers it. A life with her. Visiting her at the White House. Maybe indeed fighting to accept the bodyguard position, his hand on her back as he keeps her safe once more, the sound of her laugh. The idea of getting acquainted with her shampoo brand, learning her favourite colour, kissing her forehead.

He is spiralling again, but this time in a more dangerous direction. Leon cracks his knuckles, yawning.

There is no point into wasting time thinking of all this. He can’t afford to lose footing in reality. And the reality is forcing him to remember that only a few hours they had both been fighting a Plagas, and he can’t be completely sure that the coast is clear. The mission isn’t over until she is back home, until they both reach American ground.

His foot starts hitting the floor quickly, as his headache gets even worse. He has to keep himself awake, he can’t lose focus.

At any given point Ashley could wake up and look at him with those soft doe eyes and ask anything, anything from him and, god, he’d give her the world, but first… But first he has to make sure that they’re both safe.

She’s make him feel like a worthy prince.

He can’t lose the princess for being careless.

He feels thirsty but he doesn’t even want to move his eyes away from her. His heart picks up when he thinks her chest stops moving up and down, but he realises it is his mind playing tricks on him as she sighs again.

Fuck. He is really losing his shit. He’s been trained for this crap. He barely sleeps anyway.

He curses in a whisper and looks down, grabs the water bottle next to his foot and sits down again.

That’s when he notices there is someone else in the room.

How? How would that be possible? There is no fucking way. It takes him just a second to fucking comprehend what is going on, but in an instant he has his knife on his fist, standing up as he approaches the figure, ready to attack the stranger.

The knife doesn’t hit anything.

Leon stills his movements then, realising that he recognises the face in front of him: the dirty-bloodied uniform, the stupid toothy smile, the look of hope in his eyes.

It’s him. The ghost of his younger version, the one from Raccoon City, stands before him.

“Fuck off,” Leon groans. He knows now that he is hallucinating. “Go away,” he pleads, in a growl, sitting down once more. His fucking head feels like about to explode.

“Buddy, I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” answers the more excitedly voice.

Leon considers replying, but he doesn’t want to wake Ashley up. The poor thing has already gone through too much, the least she needs at the moment is the man that is supposed to keep her safe having a full-on discussion with himself.

Fucking insane. He hides his face in his hands.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, that’s for sure. He’s gone through it all: hallucinations for being sleep-deprived, sleep paralysis after the most excruciating missions.

Most of the times it’s not even monsters, or zombies. Most times it’s people he knew: Annette, Ada a couple of times too. Last time it was Marvin, his body bloody and his eyes white as he swears he could hear his cries of pain still.

He wonders if maybe Luis will join as well, sometime, another painful reminder of his failures.

But himself? This was new.

“What the fuck do you want?” he mumbles. It Is stupid, Leon knows that. But perhaps by talking to this ghost of himself he could get rid of it faster, make sure he can go back to guard Ashley.

“Heh, I think it is obvious what you want,” the high-pitched voice replies. Leon looks up a moment, seeing the rookie sitting on the floor next to the bed, pointing at Ashley.

“Very funny,” Leon groans.

“What? Are you gonna deny it? I’m literally you.”

“Just, shut up.”

Surprisingly, that works. When Leon looks up once more, the figure isn’t there. He yawns, rubbing his temple. Maybe he is gone, for real. Maybe his mind will stop playing tricks on him now. He resumes his watch, his whole attention directed towards Ashley.

He is not even sure what time it is now, but he hopes it won’t be too long. At this point, he is being more of a nuisance than an actual help, a real protection for her. He knows he will have to sleep soon.

Not yet, though. Not fucking yet. He has to fucking hold on, try to keep it together.

“Hey, maybe you should get some actual sleep,” the voice suddenly interrupts him, now coming from next to him.

Leon almost stumbles from his chair, heart racing.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he half-shouts, and immediately purses his lips, embarrassed.

The rookie, the fucking rookie, sitting down next to him.

“Sorry, just trying to help,” he mumbles.

Leon shakes his head. He doesn’t want to say anything else. He is sure he almost woke Ashley up. He decides to acknowledge this presence, since it is becoming quite clear that it is not leaving for now.

“What do you want? Don’t fucking say Ashley, I swear to God,” he whispers, ashamed.

“Well, you’re the one that should know that. Your brain is literally hallucinating me at this point.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I can’t sleep yet,” he replies, crossing his arm as he stands up, trying to walk around the room a little, forcing his body not to pass out.

“You look incredibly nervous, dude,” his younger version chuckles, seemingly amused.

“I’m not.”

“Why are you walking around, then?”

“Well, someone has to make sure the president’s daughter doesn’t die on my watch. I’d say that’s some pretty big responsibility,” his heart is about to get out of his chest, and he is sweating.

The headache is now deeper, more annoying.

“She is safe now, Jesus Christ. Give yourself some credit, man.”

“She is not,” Leon suddenly replies.

“She is. Don’t you trust Luis? Do you think he would have lied to you?”

That does stop him in his tracks. Perhaps the rookie has a point. Leon nods, slowly. In the darkness of the room, he looks at his arms. The veins are normal still. He hasn’t had any weird visions since they got the Plagas expelled.

Well, except for the unpleasant vision that his own mind conjures. Maybe even more annoying than Lord Saddler’s ones.

He doesn’t acknowledge the rookie, though, but he comes back to sit on the chair.

“How many hours has it been now?” this ghost insists.

“I dunno.”

“You do know.”

God. He didn’t remember his younger voice being that annoying. Leon inhales, trying to calm himself down.

“Five hours,” he replies after a moment.

“If any of you were still infected, don’t you think the Plagas would have acted up by now? Also, Lord Saddled is dead now. There is no one controlling the Plagas now. All the Ganado died, remember?”

Leon hates that the little kid is right.

“I guess that’s true,” Leon admits.

The rookie laughs.

“She is fine. You don’t need to keep watching over her like a creep. I mean, not that we are being creepy…”

Leon interrupts himself: “Just go to the point, man”.

The rookie looks up at him, glittering eyes full of hope and a gentle small on his face.

“Look, I thought I was the rookie here, but you’re being a whole amateur now,” he stands up, in silence. “The patrol is over, rookie”.

Leon looks at himself. That shadow of himself, too full of hope and of light. He blinks, still processing the rookie’s words… His own words, echoing from and inside his head.

The patrol is over.

Fuck.

He slumps on the chair, eyes welling up with tears. For a moment, he lets himself cry in silence, under the soft sound of Ashley’s breathing. He breaks down a little, feels pity for himself, as well as relief. He dries off his tears with his palm, trying not to be too much of a mess in case she wakes up. He should be strong still. He needs to be.

By now, the headache is unbearable and his eyes hurt, a combination of exhaustion and the tears. But he knows it’s true: they’re both safe. He saved her. Ashley is safe. And even if he can’t have her, if this story ends in a few hours, he can still breathe without regrets. He can even make sure that their last memories together are something pleasant, something nice and comforting.

Leon tries to calm his breathing. He looks up, still curious as to whether the old presence is still there, but not anymore.

No more ghosts in the room. Just Ashley and him now.

With heavy steps he moves towards the bed, dizzy by now. He lies down on the bed and allows himself to breathe against Ashley’s shoulder, timidly holding her from behind. He grips her body close to his, knowing this is the only and last time he’ll have this chance. And even if she is half-asleep, Ashley sighs, content on her sleep, as Leon closes his eyes, finally allowing himself to rest.

The patrol is over and so is their story. But for a while, they can still lie close together, in the dark. Both finally safe, at last.

My brain actually wanted to be mean and make it Marvin instead of Rookie Leon but you know what. I don't need to break my heart like that SO much. Let Leon be angry at himself, it's fun, lol.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 16

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1436

Masterlist

You told me you were insecure, but I didn't really believe you.

Girls - women - say they're insecure because they think being confident is the same as bragging. They see a woman walk confidently down the street, and they consider it being slutty.

Don't believe me, (Y/n)? Just think. When an insecure woman gets raped, she is a victim. Her life is ruined. But when a confident woman gets raped, she asked for it. She ruined the man's life. Women really think like this. It's all #girlpower and #badbitches until somebody gets hurt.

But you? You don't think like that.

And you really were insecure. I can tell because you're finally gaining some confidence, and it makes a world of difference. You give your opinion to your coworkers. You go outside without spending an hour staring at yourself in the mirror (you rarely wore make-up anyway, but you used to worry about your hair).

And you're writing. A lot.

You say you're not ready for me to read your stories, but you use Google Docs, which means everything is right there on your phone. You can't blame me for sneaking a peak when you go take a shower. Really, you want me to.

I don't know what you were talking about when you said you couldn't write. Your stories are amazing. You are wasting your talents, working in marketing.

The story you're writing right now is about a glass labyrinth. A girl has been walking through it for as long as she can remember. She can't find the exit. Then one day, she meets a boy on the other side of the wall. They try to walk the same route, hoping to eventually find a way to be together, but they never do. At least not where you're at, yet.

But I know they'll find each other eventually, (Y/n), because the story is really about us. All of your stories are about us. About being distant, and then coming together.

You're writing about us being from different countries, and then finding each other. You have to be. It's all one big metaphor.

I love your stories.

You're not fighting with your mom anymore, which is good because it means you are in an infinitely better mood lately. Even when you're grumpy, you don't shut me out anymore - you want me as close as possible, all the time. When I'm working and you're not, you even hang out at the bookstore.

You also want to see my apartment. You think it's weird that you haven't before. So one night, I clean up and I invite you over. I cook for you. It turns out bad, but you praise me because it's been forever since you ate anything homecooked.

You love my apartment. You love my old typewriters (you learn all their names in less than an hour) and you love that even though it's one room, it still feels like the living room, bedroom and kitchen are seperate rooms. You love that all my stuff is secondhand and old. You even love Paco, who comes over halfway through the dinner which I failed to cook.

His mom and Ron are fighting again, and you tell Paco that Ron sounds “like a dick”. But when Ron comes banging at my door, you smile sweetly and say you think Paco's just the nicest kid and get me out of a lecture because Ron thinks it's just fine for Paco to be here if there's a girl like you around, apparently.

I meet your grandparents. Not in person, of course. One day your grandma facetimes you while I'm over at yours, and you turn my phone and tell me to wave, and then your grandfather asks me a thousand questions. You don't have a dad, but your grandfather is like one. And I think he approves of me.

Basically, everything about our relationship is falling into place. But then:

“I'm going home for Christmas.”

My world shatters.

“Home?” I ask. Maybe, just maybe, you mean something other than what I think you mean.

“To The Netherlands,” you say. You pause. “My grandmother really wants me there.”

This is the worst. This is insane. You can't just go that far away from me. Anything could happen to you!

I say: “isn't Christmas three months away? Why are you telling me already?”

Like I don't care. Like I hadn't even thought about Christmas.

“Well, I don't want you to make plans for us, or anything.”

I already made plans. We were going to have dinner with Mr. Mooney. It would have been incredibly depressing, but you have to meet him at some point because he's the closest thing I have to family. Then, I was going to take you on a carriage ride, and we were going to watch Shakespeare in the park because you've read Macbeth, but you didn't get it and really, (Y/n), I love books but Shakespeare was a playwright and his words weren't meant to be read, they were meant to be experienced.

It's how you claim you don't like romantic comedies, but really you just don't like romance novels. I know if you watched Hannah and her sisters with me, you'd love it. You'd recognize that romantic comedies are art. But you are stubborn.

“When are you going?” I ask.

“December ninth.”

“How long are you going?”

“Until January third.”

I have to live without you for almost an entire month?!

“And you can just take that much time off?”

“I’m using all my days at once,” you say. “Plus some unpaid time. And I promised not to take any vacation during the summer next year. So.” You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you have to go be with your family,” I say. “I get it.”

And I do get it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not also the worst thing you could have done to me. Because you are not inviting me.

And I swear, sometimes it’s like you read my mind:

“Next time I go to The Netherlands, I’m inviting you, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just that if I invite you now, my grandparents are going to think it’s way too soon. They’ll think I’m just like my mother, and I’m supposed to be different, you know?”

You talk about your grandparents like they are your parents, and your mother like she is a sister who set the wrong tone within your family. Someone you have to outdo. I don’t understand the dynamic within your family and I don’t pretend to understand it. I just stare at you until you continue:

“She’s, like, a serial dater. She’s only with a guy until he loves her, and then she fucks him, and then she leaves him. When I was a kid there was a new man around basically every week. It’s more like every month now, but still.”

You are not like your mother, (Y/n). I know because I love you, and here you are. And also, we’re not having sex. It’s not because you say no, anymore. Now, I’m the one putting it off. I have a plan for us.

“That sounds like it was hard.”

“My grandparents tried to get custody of me,” you say. “It was a whole thing.” You take a deep breath. “But yeah. So I really thought about inviting you, but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. They’ve seen you now. I want them to hear about you more. To think of you as a guy who’s sticking around. Before they meet you in person, I mean.”

And you know what? I love that. I understand why you’re not inviting me.

I still hate it, but it does make sense.

“Okay,” I say. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that we’re not spending Christmas together, but I get it.”

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Not really,” I say. Mr. Mooney doesn’t believe in Thanksgiving and you’re not American, so it’s not like I have anybody to celebrate with. And anyway, it’s a holiday meant to deify white people invading a country and killing most of the population through semi-accidental biological warfare. What’s there to celebrate.

“Let’s make Thanksgiving our Christmas this year,” you say.

“Okay.”

It won't be the same. There is no Shakespeare in the park on Thanksgiving, because everybody will be watching football. But I'll just have to come up with something else.

“I can't believe we're making plans for Thanksgiving two months in advance.”

“I'm Dutch,” you say. “Be glad we're not having the Christmas conversation in March.”

[chuurroez]

the day 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 me

ღ pairing: Sung Hanbin x gn!reader, set in non-idol verse ^^

ღ genre: angst, really bad angst.

ღ warnings: i'm not sure if there is any, if there is, please tell me!

ღ summary: you wondered where it went wrong, was it you? or was it him that went wrong? you wanted to know answers to your questions that you knew wouldn't be answered.

ღ notes: hi! this fic is inspired by laufey's latst release 'california and me', i suggest listening to the song before continuing to read this fic! tysm to the people who voted on my poll. this isnt in order of the actual song and i skipped a few lines for the fic to make more sense. do you guys want a part 2 of this btw? im sorry if this is rpetty short, the lyrics weren't as long as i thought. :(

ღ word count: 970

''Should've figured that you'd go back to New York Don't consider me when you run back to her"

Sung Hanbin was the perfect boyfriend for you, he was everything you'd want for a partner. He was caring, loving, respectful, kind, affectionate, he was perfect. almost. He became distant from you the past few weeks, you always wondered why. You tried to ask him why he was becoming more and more distant from you but he always said he was just stressed and busy. You knew he was lying, whenever he and problems, he would always open up to you about it. On the earlier stages of your relationship with him, he told you about his ex in New York, the same place he'd be going back to for her. You should've figured that he'd go back there anyways, your relationship has been going downhill ever since he became more and more distant from you. You knew you were just a distraction from her when Hanbin broke up with his ex, a distraction from all the pain he felt when she left him.

"You don't have to hide it, I know why you went Said you needed space, I know better than that"

He tried his best to hide the real reason he went back to New York, for her. He reasoned that he needed space for a while for his departure but you both knew it was a lie. You knew the actual reason of his leaving, he was like an open book that you read very well. He thought you were oblivious to his actions, but of course you knew better than that. You knew he lost his feelings for you, you knew he never truly loved you in the first place. His heart still belonged to her, the woman he first loved and still loved. He didn't care that you were a distraction for his aching heart, he waited and waited for her to come back. I guess she did so after all, huh.

"Could've fought for you but I just let you leave Hurt too much to consider you didn't love me''

You had a choice of trying to let him stay, but you just let him go. It would've been a failed attempt anyways, he never actually loved you. It broke your heart to think that he maybe never for once thought about you for you. He just thought about you as her. You wonder if you looked or acted the same way as she did, you would've been correct after all, right? You stayed speechless the time he waved goodbye at you, it gave you a glimpse of hope that he would come back, but deep in your heart you knew it would never happen. You wanted you to say something, but you stayed with your gut that said to just be quiet for the sake of it. You didn't want to ruin this moment for him just for you.

''I imagine you holding her in your arms Laughing 'bout how I thought that you were the one"

You tried your best to think positive and stay happy without Hanbin, but your mind said no. You imagined him holding her in his arms, laughing about how oblivious you were to Hanbin's plans. You thought how crazy it was for you to fall for his tricks. I mean, who wouldn't? He was charming in every single way possible, who wouldn't be able to resist his charms? Your mind clouded with all the thoughts of Hanbin and his ex living their best lives, especially Hanbin, he got to live his life without you, you were like an old t-shirt that was thrown away because it didn't fit the its owner anymore. You didn't blame him for that, you always thought she was better even if you didn't know what she was like. She should've been better than you for Hanbin to go back to her, right?

''Left me and the ocean for your old flame Holding back my tears, I couldn't make you stay''

Beach dates were Hanbin's favorites, or were it her favorites? Did he force himself to go on beach dates with you because they reminded them of her? You loved going on those beach dates as well, it made you feel as if you and Hanbin were the only people there, it made you feel...free. You tried your best to hold back your tears that were already on the verge of escaping as Hanbin went on the plane. You saw a glimpse of his face that somewhat looked...sad? You didn't care much though, all that was on your mind was the person you loved most in life just left, but he needed space from you, didn't he? You couldn't make him stay, you wanted to but you didn't have the courage to do so. Maybe it was the fact that maybe your were the problem in the relationship? Maybe it was actually you?

"Can't quit this, so damn wicked to leave California and Me"

It was so cruel, so damn wicked for him to leave you behind. He didn't even explain why he was so distant from you, but you didn't need it though, right? He left for her. The person he loved most with you being the next. You met Hanbin in California, in which your relationship with him bloomed more and more, but all flowers have to wilt in the end, California was the same place he left you. Who knew that your relationship with him would start and end at the same place? A part of you despised him for his cruelness, the other part knew he needed this and stayed hopeful that the negative things you thought about would never happen. I guess you were right after all, weren't you?

likes, comments, reblogs, and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

[comfy-whumpee]

Echoes

Whumptober Day 10 - "You said you'd never leave me." CN: referenced domestic violence, minor whump.

Jax taglist: @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @burtlederp, @rosesareviolentlyread, @eatyourdamnpears

Savvie, Izzy and Jamie belong to @ashintheairlikesnow.

-

She says, “You said you’d never leave me.”

She is staring at him from across the metal table. The inmate jumpsuit is a good look on her, he can’t deny, and he likes seeing her hands cuffed to the table too, unable to grab or touch him anywhere at all. Her nails are short and round and unpainted, which he has never seen before.

She says, “You’re mine, Jax.” She has tied her hair back from her face and it makes her look more her age. He looks older than her, has for years, because of how they have lived. But now, she looks as haggard as he feels, without the makeup he is used to seeing on her.

He doesn’t have an answer for her demand. He remembers promising many times that he wouldn’t leave her. He’d never betray her. He couldn’t. That always satisfied her well enough.

Of course, the moment he could, that all became moot. But he’d said all the right promises without worrying about that. Looking to the future was never his strong suit, anyway.

“I thought you loved us,” Savvie continues. She doesn’t need him to reply. “I thought you cared about us, as a family, Jax. But you just wanted to hurt us.”

Jax thinks about her nearly dropping Jamie when he spit up on her shirt. He thinks about Izzy coming into the kitchen white as a sheet from one of her ‘talks’. He thinks about how sound carries in her old house, and how both kids have heard his screams.

“My poor babies.” Savvie is a one-woman show of grief. Her eyes glitter with crystalline tears, but they don't leave him, watching for his reaction. “You can’t take them from me. They’re mine, Jax. I’ll fight for them. I just need to see them again, to make sure they understand what’s happening, to make sure they know why you decided to break up our family.”

“You did that, Savvie,” he interjects. “You did that every time you took me away from them.”

“You never wanted them,” she replies dismissively, trying and failing to gesture with a rattle of chain. “You just wanted to lecture me about them. It’s thanks to me they even exist.”

That is all true. But none of it matters. It stopped mattering as soon as there became real children involved. He couldn’t just abandon a baby to her.

“You’ve ruined our family,” she adds. She’s been refuelled by his words. He needs to stay quiet. “It will never, ever be the same, after what you’ve done. I hope you’re happy, Jax. I’ll never be happy again.”

His mouth is already open to speak, to retort, when she adds the rest. But it only becomes more true. “Here’s hoping.”

-

“Daddy,” she sniffles, arms tight around his waist. Her face is pressed into his stomach and he strokes her hair gently. “I’m sorry, daddy,” she hiccups. “Please d-don’t go without me an’ Jamie, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you two,” he promises. He gently loosens her arms, but keeps hold of her hands as he drops stiffly to one knee. He meets her wide, tear-filled eyes. “Hey. I said I’d never leave you two, didn’t I?”

She stares at him, full of fear. He should have seen it coming, of course. He can’t talk about a holiday without reminding her of Savvie’s version of a weekend getaway: kids abandoned with zero warning, sudden trips to the airport while they were still asleep, Jax dragged along on half-baked promises that Isaac would send someone.

“I want to go on holiday with you both,” he promises her. Her little hands are gripping his back, her fingers soft and warm against his callouses. “That’s what holidays are like now. I will never run away on holiday without you, especially not if you are sleeping.”

“Never ever?” she asks, her gaze so afraid and so desperately trusting.

The weight of his words feels so heavy, knowing she will hold onto them tightly, repeating them over and over to herself. How to pick words that will comfort her through all their uses?

He starts with the fundamentals. “Family is me, you and Jamie.” No Mommy. No Savvie. Not even grandpa makes the cut, at the end of the day. With this established, he adds, “Family holiday has to be me, you and Jamie too.”

She leans forwards, asking for a hug in that careful way she has with touch. Touch with him, anyway. She isn’t this cautious with the others.

He hugs her close. “Never, ever,” he repeats. Sometimes he likes to imagine how long he could go without un-hugging his baby girl. He could sleep with her in his arms again. He can eat with her on his lap. Walk the dogs with her in his arms. He could keep hold of her forever.

Of course, it’s just an instinct. He lets her go. “And,” he adds, to lift her spirits, “you get a say in where we go on holiday, now. We choose together.”

She doesn’t care as long as she’s with him, he knows. It’s the same for him. But maybe, with some time, he can get her excited for the holiday, and give her back some of the joy she never had.

Here’s hoping.

[kitgundy]

DYSPHORIA

Mom, do you know how much of a nightmare it is?

Looking down at my body and feeling like something’s wrong

Looking back and examining and reexamining my past thoughts, my past beliefs

Realizing I’m a boy and no matter how much I try to deny it I always have been

I’m a boy. I’m a boy, <DEADNAME> isn’t a boy name. I’m not a FUCKING SHE. I AM NOT A SHE AND MY NAME ISNT <DEADNAME> PLEASE GOD JUST STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THOSE THINGS YOU TELL ME TO STOP TELLING YOU TO STOP, YOU TELL ME IT HURTS YOU WHEN I TELL YOU TO STOP, YOU SAY ITS BECAUSE OF MY TONE WHEN I TELL YOU BUT IT HAS BEEN FUCKI YEARS AND YOU HAVENT EVEN TRIED DO YOU KNOW HOW MCH THAT HURTS ME?

I can’t even explain how tiring it is that you look at me and you don’t see me for who I am. You see a girl who doesn’t know herself. You see a stupid little girl who is following a trend. IF YOU REALLY KNEW ME YOU WOULD KNOW I DONT FUCKING FOLLOW TRENDS MOM!!!! It isn’t a fucking phase! I thought I was just non-binary and I told you back then. And I wish I hadn’t, because I was still confused about what I was and I went about it aggressively and that isn’t how you tell people how you really feel because then they’ll never believe you.

You will never believe me when I tell you who I am. I don’t know if I hate you for it or if I can just ignore it so I can still love you. It’s both. I have to ignore the way you see me so I can love you in a way that works. I hate when you talk about me to other people because I know the words you will speak, I know the name you will use, and I try to brace myself but it still hurts more every fucking time.

God, I wish I was just born a boy. I wish I was born and raised like a boy. I wish I had a dick. I wish I had a deep voice. I wish I had facial hair, I want to look at myself in the mirror, I want to look in the mirror and not see a stranger looking back at me.

I don’t know what to do. Whenever I try to explain what I want to be (a gender non conforming guy but also just some guy), you butt in and say “why not be a gender non conforming girl?”

BECAUSE I TRIED THAT AND IT DIDNT WORK. I LOVE MYSELF AND I LOVE MY BODY BUT I AM ALSO IN THE WRONG BODY AND THERES MEDICAL WAYS TO FIX THAT BUT IF I TRY TO DO THAT UNDER YOUR ROOF I AM TWRRIFIED OF WHAT COULD HAPPEN TO ME. And GOD I am terrified of doing the medical treatments too, because I am one bad politician away from my entire life being ruined when I do go on those. There’s already a lot of states I cannot safely go to or live in. I can’t fucking visit my grandmother in Florida because I am TERRIFIED of how I would be treated there. I am TERRIFIED of the politics there.

And yeah, sure, maybe I wouldn’t visit that grandmother anyway, sue me. I know there’s gotta be somewhere you got your beliefs from and I’m willing to bet it’s not just the church, but also her. God I hope it’s her and not just you absorbing the church’s ideals like a sponge, because I KNOW you’re smarter than that. And I KNOW childhood beliefs can be challenged and changed, but there’s a sinking feeling in my heart that it isn’t just childhood beliefs. There’s a sinking feeling that that church is part of why you’re not a safe space for me.

And I am so scared, because I know when I move out, I am going to double down. I’m a man. I’m a boy. I always have been. I always will be. I don’t know how to explain it, you try to explain why you’re a woman without saying it’s because of your body. Tell me why your spirit is a woman without saying “I don’t know”. What exactly is your connection with womanhood?

I’ll tell you my connection with manhood. When I was a little kid, I didn’t think about this stuff. But I thought it would be REALLY cool to do things in a boy way. I tried and failed multiple times to stand up to pee, just to prove I could. I didn’t even really care about the stereotypes, I just thought it’d be cool to be a boy.

I remember years later, I was sitting in front of the old TV, staring at the screen after starting a new save on Pokémon Ruby. I was wondering if I should pick the boy option. Part of me REALLY wanted to pick the boy option.

But I was scared. Why was I scared? Had my mind already been poisoned with subconscious hatred, even at such a young age? I don’t know. I just know when I heard someone nearby, I picked the girl option- out of FEAR. Part of me KNEW I shouldn’t pick the boy option. Part of me KNEW I shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

I didn’t think about these things back then, didn’t realize being a boy was an option- in fact, I thought it was dangerous. I considered myself boyish, sure. I wasn’t a tomboy, but tomboy fit what I thought I was, I thought I was a girl who felt weirdly.. boy.

My breasts started to grow. I had been excited for them at first, but when they actually grew, I hated them. I didn’t know why. I just wanted to hide them. I wanted them gone. I was excited, so why was I feeling like this?

Why did I hate the way my body was changing?

Must just be normal puberty, right? Everyone hates their bodies changing like this. And besides, the breasts came with periods, and periods suck. So maybe I was just hating puberty as a whole.

The feeling didn’t go away. It just got worse and worse and worse.

I grew up. And then I found out what trans means. And then I did research. And then I picked a fight with you, telling you I’m non-binary.

Because that’s what I thought I was. I had never had time to really think about it, after all. I wasn’t a girl, but I couldn’t be a boy, right? “Boys are gross and ugly and annoying and I don’t want to be that so I can’t be a boy. Besides, trans is too strong of a word for what I feel,” that’s what I thought.

And time went on. And I matured. And I realized that, yes, I am a boy. A girlish boy, maybe, a genderfuck boy who wants to wear dresses AND suits, but he will NEVER be recognized as a boy when he does wear a dress because his body doesn’t match his soul.

The more I grow, the more I realize:

My body wasn’t meant for me and I wasn’t meant for this body.

My voice in my head is lower than how it comes out. My face itches for lack of facial hair, my whole body itches for lack of hair. Long hair feels suffocating, blinding. I can’t even bear to look at my chest anymore, can barely bear to touch it.

And it HURTS every time I look in the mirror, every time I speak.

But not NEARLY as much as it hurts to hear that name.

I chose the name Kris because it was convenient. <DEADNAME> and Kris both start with a K. They’re both four letters. And, unlike <DEADNAME>, NOBODY is going to say the name Kris wrong, and nobody is gonna SEE the name Kris and assume it’s a girl’s name.

I chose the name Kris, and my pronouns fluctuated, but my name stayed the same. For TWO YEARS it stayed the same.

And yet you still keep calling me <DEADNAME>. You keep calling me a DAUGHTER. You keep calling me a SHE.

It HURTS.

And honestly? I wish you just wouldn’t call for me at all at this point.

I love you. But I can only handle you in small amounts, and only when we’re alone, because when you talk about me, you use words that drive straight into my soul.

I am not a FUCKING girl.

Girls are awesome. They’re great. Girls are beautiful, and wonderful, and I love girls.

It’s just.. I’m not one. I never was.

And I don’t know how you can’t see that.

Don’t you remember? The times when I was a kid, when I would try to stand up to pee? Don’t you know how much I wished to be a brother too? I made being the only daughter my personality, but that’s because I didn’t know I could be anything else.

Didn’t you see how much I tried to reject femininity?

One day, I said I hate the color pink. I said I hate it with a passion, I spat vicious vitriol at such a pretty color.

I was wearing a pink jacket.

Years later, I look back and I see a confused, hurting.. I’m not sure what I was.

Honestly.. I don’t think I was a boy then. I mean, I was ALWAYS a boy deep down, but at the time, I didn’t KNOW that, and I was trying REALLY HARD to just be a girl but not like other girls(?), so I’m not really sure what I was then.

I just know I wasn’t a girl. And some part of me deep down knew that, and was VICIOUSLY attacking everything feminine I did and liked in an attempt to distance myself from it all.

I hate that you can’t recognize that.

I love you, and I love the name <DEADNAME>, it’s such a nice name, really. I love women, they’re so wonderful and deserving of all the best (deserving of much better than society gives them, really).

But I’m not <DEADNAME>. I’m not your daughter, I’m not a she.

I will probably burst into tears if you ever call me your son. And I am TERRIFIED. Because I KNOW you will take that the wrong way, use it as yet another reason I’m just confused.

I’m not. I think YOURE confused.

You tell me statistics aren’t good to use but good GOD, the statistics I use are REAL. They’re from STUDIES. If you can’t use real FUCKING numbers, what the hell else are you supposed to do?

I don’t know what to do. It hurts more to talk to you every day because it’s getting worse and worse the longer I spend in a body that doesn’t fit with a voice that doesn’t match, and YOU aren’t helping.

I’m so, so tired of being seen as something I’m not. I’m so tired of fantasizing and dreaming about being seen for who I am and then being reminded that wouldn’t be safe.

I’m tired of you. I love you, but you make me so, so tired.

So forgive me if I got too snappish when I corrected you. Holding in the corrections is only serving to hurt me, and I don’t feel safe around you anymore.

Honestly, I doubt I ever did.

I don’t remember the last time I had a genuine conversation with you that ended where you understood me. You look at me and you see this wayward child, this lost sheep. You don’t try to understand ME, you only try to make me understand YOU.

Well, guess what? I am an ADULT HUMAN MAN. Your god will NEVER be mine, he has HURT ME. I’m not a sixteen year old trapped in a nineteen year old body, I am NINETEEN and AUTISTIC. I'm not maturing the way you thought I would because school and everything in my life burnt me out and people hurt me, so I didn’t get to emotionally mature when I should have, and I’m picking up the pieces left behind by that trauma now but that doesn’t mean I’m not an adult. I still feel too overwhelmed by the world to live on my own but I am an ENTIRE ADULT and you need to REALIZE that. I know I’m still young and stupid, but that doesn’t make me not an adult. YOU NEED TO LOOK AT ME AND SEE AN ADULT.

Oh, and on your religion? I’m not a lost sheep, I am a WOLF who will EAT your Shepard.

Because I was a blue sheep.

I was a blue sheep who was painted pink, and the flock said “Our Shepard loves you no matter what color you are!”

But when I showed my colors, the flock turned away. Averted their eyes and avoided me.

And you did too.

And that shepard never said a word to me, never even noticed when I was left behind.

The meaner ones in the flock even called me a wolf. So you know what I did? I grew fangs.

You know what? Part of me wants to bite you- that is to say, to keep correcting you. You take that as a bite? Fine. I will fucking bite, until you bleed enough that you decide enough is enough.

You can choose whether you distance yourself from me or actually start referring to me by my name, by my pronouns. You can respect me or you can leave.

I don’t care.

I hate you. I love you, but I hate you so much.

I don’t even hate you, actually. I’m just hurt. I’m so hurt and angry and I feel so guilty for feeling this way.

I didn’t choose to be a blue sheep. I didn’t choose to get turned into a wolf. The flock thought of me as one and that’s what I became.

I never asked for this.

I never asked for you to adopt me. I never asked to be put with someone who can’t understand.

Why don’t you understand?

WHY DONT YOU UNDERSTAND!?

WHY DON’T I UNDERSTAND!!!???

I DO UNDERSTAND!!! You don’t know how to understand. Because you only look at one side.

The church’s side.

Your God’s side.

I want to kill your god.

So many of my problems would be solved if he never existed. So many of my problems wouldn’t exist if Joseph Smith didn’t exist.

Maybe I wouldn’t be alive today.

Or maybe fate has a way, and our family would have been together somehow anyway, and maybe you’d care for me the way you do for my brothers. Maybe you’d stop seeing me as your daughter.

If I was born a boy, maybe I’d be your weird gay GNC son.

Please call me your son.

Please call me your son.

PLEASE CALL ME YOUR SON.

I LOVE YOU PLEASE, I BEG YOU ON MY FUCKING HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE CALL ME YOUR SON IM YOUR SON I AM YOUR FUCKING SON PLEASE CALL ME YOUR

[dangermousie]

A pusher post: What Happened in Bali (2004)

This monster hit of a drama (also known as Something Happened in Bali) starred three about to become huge stars - Ha Ji Won, Jo In Sung and So Ji Sub. It's one of my favorite kdramas of all times and was HUGE when it aired, but because it's almost 20 years old, is nowadays less known than it should be.

My elevator pitch for it would be: "What it's like to be the object of (adult) Domyouji's obsession in real life." Answer - misery and self-destruction.

The plot seems fairly straightforward and revolves around four individuals, all of whom are damaged and none of whom are that likeable but some of whom (if you are me), you end up loving anyway.

Ha Ji Won is Soo Jung, a poor girl working as a tour guide who ends up being torn between attentions of two very different and very damaged men - the icy, ambitious, poor one played by So Ji Sub and a volatile, abused car crash about to happen wealthy one played by Jo In Sung. (In possibly my favorite performance of his ever.) The fourth main character is a wealthy young woman played by Park Ye Jin who was in love with So Ji Sub but threw him over for the status and money of arranged engagement with JIS.

Bali is a very dark drama, in a way dramas really aren't today. Yes, of course there are dramas with damaged or even negative protagonists, tragedy, and darkness. But what old kdramas sometimes had is a certain grinding every day aspect of misery, if it makes sense. It is not larger than life, there is no message, it's not healing. It's broken people trying to get through soul-crushing darkness and being ugly about it and often failing.

Ha Ji Won, the pivot of the story, is not happy or noble. She is desperate and grasping; she wants money and she wants love and she wants everything, anything to feel the gaping hole in her soul. I knew the story wasn't going to be your usual one when I saw the scene where Jo In Sung's character Jae Min offers her $$$ for a one-night stand and she calls him a jerk (and you see by his reaction he doesn't even understand that what he said was insulting - he is puzzled. In his world, everything can be bought and sold, and there is no such thing as affection) and then asks whether he is going to pay before or after. In her world, there is no room for the grand gesture, for throwing money in his face. She leaves only because he kicks her out (giving her money but not doing anything - which is so telling) telling her to buy her new shoes (hers are broken) and saying "it's not fun any more" (the first of many instances she really throws him off any usual ways he deals with things). And then she trips on her broken heels walking out, sprawling in the lobby, inelegantly grabbing and picking up money.

When we first see her, she seems mostly well-adjusted but the more the story progresses, the more we see she is just as broken as Jae Min, who just be the most broken kdrama ML that I have come across. (So Ji Sub's character In Wook has frozen himself and somehow avoided some damage that way; it doesn't hurt that his damage unlike SJ and JM's isn't reinflicted over and over; and Yeong Joo, our secondary girl, is largely content - she mostly accepts the devil's bargain she made for money.)

One of the biggest pleasures of this drama for me is contrasting in the way Jae Min is going to be with Soo Jung eventually - utterly desperate and brought down and willing to beg and beg and beg, and the way he is at the start - emotionally detached, with all the 'power' on his side - I mean, contrast his propositioning her for that one-night stand and the scene where they finally make love, a dozen eps from then.

BUT! And I think this is one of the reasons I love this drama so much - it is not a story of love as salvation, it is the story of love as damnation. As far as Jae Min is concerned, this is the story of devolution. His soul wakes up and he falls in love and he commits himself utterly and that breaks him down more and more and eventually makes him a broken destroyer of himself and the woman he loves. Because, the drama seems to say, in his environment, only a true cold monster can thrive or at least survive; the moment he loves someone, he's done. The way this drama shows abuse is so telling. His monster father beats him regularly even if Jae Min is a grown man (there is a scene in his office in ep 2 where daddy is practicing golf in his office and Jae Min flinches any time the golf club is in his vicinity, and almost stutters and it's a small preview of what we are going to get.) But his mother who spoils her "baby" even though that "baby" is a grown man, but only if he does what she wants; he's supposed to have as much self-determination as a poodle, is as bad.

And there is Ha Ji Won - she is so desperate, so alone, so grasping, so greedy, so alive. She is a rare kdrama FL who sleeps with both her leading men (not at once, it WAS 2004 :P) and takes so long to decide that she loves Jae Min because she doesn't want to let go of even a crumb of what she can have because she's been so starved in every way.

And then there is the infamous ending

SPOILER

SPOLER

SPOILER

Where Jae Min (who has been through total hell by then; god the scene where he's on his knees begging his father to spare Soo Jung, trying to convince the man he never loved her) believes wrongly but reasonably that Soo Jung never loved him and played him to take all the family's stuff in cahoots with In Wook and goes into their room (where they just finished banging) and shoots them both right after she just finished telling In Wook that she is going to go back to Jae Min despite the risk because that's who she loves is !!!!! And as she dies, she tells Jae Min, for the first time, she loves him. And he goes out and the last shot (no pun intended) is him on his knees putting a gun to his temple and a shot ringing out. And that's the ending; our main three dead (and Jae Min never knew she never betrayed him and only finding out she loved him when it was too late), the sole survivor is the ice cold secondary girl. All people who had some humanity dead and destroyed by the monsters heaping constant wrong and abuse on them until they broke and said monsters continuing with their nice lives.

And the thing is - the drama does not condone anyone - not the family abusers who break Jae Min down bit by bit in the drama, not Jae Min who does the most monstrous thing at the end, going from a man willing to die body and soul so Soo Jung could live to the man who himself kills her, not In Wook who steals everything who wasn't nailed down, nor secondary girl who will never be touched by anything, not even Soo Jung who got into all of this because of her greed - it just lays it all out and presents their humanity and goes "watch. watch. watch."

Nobody would make this nowadays. They'd need a message or a cynical tint or w/e. Not just - sometimes there is no moral, no message, sometimes you watch people self destruct and love them as character even if not as people anyway.

There has been a rumored remake (shudder) for years but it has never taken off the ground and thank god. Without cast and with modern way of doing dramas, it would be terrible.

PS Speaking of terrible, the clothes in this drama oh my GOD.

[snowbellewells]

"Carolina Moon" update {Chapter Two}

Hello Friends! Here we are at last with the next chapter of my @cssns23 fic!! I sincerely never meant to keep everyone waiting so long; real life got really hectic there for a bit, and I had to focus on the job that pays the bills in the few hours that were left over! Anyway, I hope that you'll forgive me and enjoy this update. If it's any sort of consolation, it nearly doubles the length of the story so far...

Also, this story is now moving into M-rated territory. After talking with a few fandom friends and readers, this seems like the way to go to be on the safe side and let everyone know what they're reading upfront. I don't know that I find my love scenes half as spicy as others I've read, but there is one for sure in this chapter, and it will not be the last before all is said and done. I hope that doesn't turn anyone away from reading, but I would rather someone know before starting than be bothered by it after the fact.

**As always, thank you SO MUCH to @eastwesthomeisbest for this beautiful cover art to go along with the story, and to @xarandomdreamx for her thoughtful beta reading comments, suggestions, and encouragement.**

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Two: Secrets Beneath the Surface

By the time Killian got back home to the family home that afternoon, he could already hear their housekeeper Johanna scolding Ruby from the kitchen, as soon as he crossed the threshold. “Well, what else was you expectin’ Miss Sassy Britches, sashayin’ all over town the way you do? Didja think that would make you a lot of friends ‘mongst the other young ladies?”

Killian kicked off his shoes in the mud room, well aware that the older woman who had practically raised he and Ruby - more so than either of their parents had done - would turn on him next if he tracked up her clean floors. Making his way quietly along the well-worn path to the kitchen at the back of the house, he could practically hear his sister huff and sputter indignantly at Johanna’s rebuke and picture all too well the way she’d roll her eyes and pout, before grumpily going to Johanna’s side and taking up whatever chore the woman had no doubt bid her to help with before their little spat had begun.

It was a rhythm as old as Killian could remember, since almost the first afternoon Johanna Bishop had appeared in their kitchen - cooking, cleaning, puttering and tending to all the essential but seemingly unworthy, household chores his mother simply couldn’t be bothered with. If - as the Jones children had grown - those chores also came to include bandaging scraped knees, soothing hurt feelings, listening to whispered wishes, and cuddling and correcting where needed, well, that had fallen naturally under her purview as well. Even more so when the three children had become just two.

Stopping in the open doorway, Killian leaned against the jamb for a moment, trying to keep his chuckling to himself as he watched his tall, leggy sibling with brilliant red streaks running through her dark hair frowning in deep concentration next to the short, rather round Johanna, trying diligently to match the rosy-cheeked, twinkling-eyed matron’s deft and graceful speed at coring and slicing apples, and failing miserably. He must have made some involuntary noise, however, because both women looked up at him in surprise.

Johanna’s bright eyes smiled at him as her cheeks crinkled with the welcoming grin he could always look forward to, no matter how long he had been gone, whenever he returned. Ruby stuck her tongue out at him when he smirked at her efforts, arching an eyebrow as if to question what in the world she was trying to do.

“Oh? Think you can do better, do you?” she challenged, flipping a discarded peel his way, before Johanna hushed her, not about to have food flying on her watch, just before Mrs. Jones’ formal dinner was expected in the dining room; as formally as it had been expected every night for years.

They all quieted for a moment at that remembrance, none of them necessarily wanting to summon the lady of the house any sooner than necessary - though that feeling went unspoken. Johanna’s nimble fingers flew over her task, the knife flashing with ease, and Killian noticed that Ruby’s movements gained confidence as well the longer she worked at it.

Giving a bit of a playful bow in flirtatious chivalry, he greeted them with, “How can I help, Miss Johanna?” and his most charming grin.

“Oh Sugar,” she demurred, “you don’t need to do nothin’ but pull up a chair and tell me ‘bout your day. Things are almost ready in here.”

Pausing to put a hand on her hip, Ruby mock glared at him, before turning to the older woman in challenge. “And why are you always nagging me, and then turning around and acting just sweet as sugar to Killian? I suppose he’s your favorite now, too?”

Ruby’s question was largely put-on sass, that melted into an unconvinced, “Uh huh, sure,” when Johanna blithely assured her that “Sweetness is as sweetness does.” All the same, Killian could see the doubt underneath her churlishness, and the longing in his sister’s expression, not wanting this one person she depended on, no matter how much they snipe at each other, to dismiss her as everyone else did. Honestly, Killian thought to himself with a guilty pang, he had written her off and disregarded her many times himself over the years. He hadn’t done it to be cruel, more out of his own survival instincts and desire to avoid conflict. Where he had withdrawn into his own thoughts, focused on achieving goals, meeting the standards set for him, making up for what had been lost, even if he ran himself ragged in the attempt, Ruby had instead completely cut herself free from all boundaries and expectations, going wild, or at least appearing so to the untrained eye. The moment she had gotten the chance, she’d fled Storybrooke on the back of her boyfriend’s Harley - eloping and not returning to Storybrooke until she had seen her fill of everywhere else. She played at nonchalance - as if nothing bothered her or could even penetrate the perfectly painted-on armor their mother had taught her to apply so well long ago.

She hadn’t really been back home that long, but Killian found himself wanting to get to know Ruby all over again, to bridge the gap that had grown between them over the years while they each attempted to weather the hurt and neglect in their own ways. The simplest method for doing that seemed to be in joining the easy banter between Ruby and Johanna, so he waggled both eyebrows at her, both in playful challenge and as an annoyance to his ‘little’ sister, then he circled the island easily to pull Johanna into a side-hug and plant a smacking kiss on the older woman’s cheek before nettling Ruby with, “Hear that? I’m sweetness itself. Maybe you should try a little sweetness sometimes and see how far it gets you.”

Johanna’s softly weathered cheeks crinkled with well-worn laugh lines, even as she rolled her eyes and shooed him away - but not before he snatched a sugar and cinnamon-dusted slice of apple from the pie crust she was crimping, causing Ruby’s eyes to narrow at him further in playful indignation. “You just hush now with all that, Killian Jones,” their housekeeper scolded. “Your sister has more than enough sweetness to share when she takes the notion - you just don’t give her any more reasons to be sour.” And though the woman who had been with their family for as long as Killian could remember, imbuing their kitchen with a warmth and comfort that the rest of the pristine, stately old home notably lacked, was warning him with her words, she also winked at him slyly - letting him know that she was glad he’d joined their fun, and that she was still nettling Ruby a bit herself.

Shaking out her mane of dark hair with a dramatic flounce, and planting her red-lacquer nailed hands on her hips, Ruby fixed them both with a fiery look. “Just the two of you know, plenty of people find me a delight to be around. Maybe I should take myself off somewhere I’m appreciated.” Turning on her heel with all the precision and purpose of a high fashion runway model rather than the demure Southern debutante their mother had hoped for, she stalked toward the doorway which led from the kitchen back into the hall, only to turn around before she left with a retort on her tongue when Johanna called after her.

“You tell that nice Dr. Hunter hello for me, Ruby Jean. You should bring him round here for a nice, home cooked meal sometime. That sweet young man needs a little meat on his bones.”

“But - I didn’t - why do you think- ?” Ruby spluttered indignantly, never finishing any of the attempted comebacks and finally just snapping her mouth closed and shaking her head with vigorous agitation.

Killian would have been laughing at her plight if he hadn’t been so wide-eyed and flummoxed himself by their housekeeper’s words. Oh, he’d known alright that his best friend since grade school had been nursing a painfully awkward silent crush on his remaining sibling, pretty much since puberty. What he’d never realized or noticed as Ruby had chewed up and spit out a first husband and teased and strung along countless other men since, was that maybe she was aware of Graham’s feelings - possibly even returned them.

“And you,” she turned from squinting at Johanna as if sizing her up to point an accusing finger at Killian, “don’t just think you can come in here and take over the one room in this place where I can actually breathe, just because you’re the family’s perfect prince and entitled to whatever you want.”

Killian jerked back at the sharp edge to her voice until he looked for a moment at the tensed pain of her features behind the dangerously flashing brown eyes. She was hurting - aching, in fact - at the idea that her one ally in her own home might also turn to the heir, her big brother, as well.

He had always known she snapped and hissed partly out of pain; he felt it too. They all did. He missed Rose awfully - more than he would have ever imagined - but to have shared the womb with her? To have been joined with her from birth and then suddenly find her gone? He couldn’t imagine that. And maybe he hadn’t really wanted to see just how much turmoil hid beneath his sister’s vexing habit of picking fights and pretending he drove her crazy, or how much loneliness was painted over with her vivacious bombshell facade. At any rate, he didn’t pick an angle and fight back at her as he normally would have, instead he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, giving a slight dip of the chin and a tentative smile. “Aye, Ru… Well do I know you and Johanna are the undisputed queens of this domain. I only wanted to join you for a moment.”

She huffed as if not knowing quite what to make of his earnest admission, then with a shrug of her shoulders and one more toss of her head, she merely replied, “Whatever you say,” and was gone. But he hadn’t missed that small half smile tilting up one corner of her mouth, or the spark of hope in her eyes. Maybe they weren’t as far removed from each other as he had feared.

Johanna turned and tilted her head up to look at him knowingly before patting him on the cheek and affirming, “You’re a good boy, Killian. You always have been. And you’ve grown into a fine man. Just don’t you give up on that sassy sister of yours, you hear? She needs us more than she’d like to own. Much like Miss Emma, I’ll wager.”

Killian smiled at the older woman warmly before nodding in agreement and scoffing lightly at her uncanny prediction, knowing she had him there and he couldn’t even argue. “You’ve always seen a lot more than we realize, haven’t you?”

She was the one to wink knowingly at him this time. “You’d better believe it,” she retorted. “That’s part of my charm.”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Killian wasn’t about to challenge her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Not half an hour later, at Hunter Veterinary Clinic on the outskirts of town, Graham was closing up for the evening when he heard the bell on the door jangle, signaling someone’s arrival. He was puttering around in the back, making sure that the surgery was cleaned and sterilized for the following morning, and that the mother golden retriever and her unexpected litter of mixed breed pups he’d delivered in a tense, last minute c-section that afternoon were settled in the kennel area for the night, and he had been certain they (he and the dogs) were the only ones still there. He knew that Grace, his summer assistant while she was home from college, was normally careful to be sure the sign was off and the door closed and locked when she left, but maybe she’d forgotten something.

“I’m in back!” he called out distractedly, still running over his mental checklist of closing chores to accomplish as he awaited an answer. “But we’re closed for the evening. Is this an emergenc– “

The door from the waiting room and lobby swung open while he was still speaking, only to reveal a vision that made him choke on the end of his words and nearly swallow his own tongue as well. Graham knew he had flushed all over almost instantaneously at the sight before him, a sweat that was part embarrassment and part lustful attraction breaking out across his skin. His eyes were wide as he shook his head in stunned disbelief, drinking in the temptation of Ruby Jones posing seductively where she leaned against the doorframe and watched him knowingly.

When several silent moments had ticked by, the heat and tension in the room between them only climbing higher, Ruby finally quirked a dark, artfully sculpted brow and smirked at him, those full red lips glistening in a lure so effective Graham could think of nothing but grabbing her, pulling her close, and capturing them with his own until his need was sated. And she knew it too - she always had. Pushing off from the wall and slinking toward him purposefully on blood red kitten heels, she began to unknot the belt of the trench coat cinched at her waist as she fairly purred her response. “Well, you see, Doctor Hunter, it is an emergency. I’m burning up with fever - one only you can break.”

By then, she stood directly in front of him, where he had backed up against the stainless steel surgical table and was clenching and releasing his hands into tight fists, straining mightily to keep himself from grabbing her and clutching much too tightly. Ruby Jones was nothing if not untamed; a wild bird that ventured close, playfully allowing the observer to think he could hold her. But he knew she would flit off and leave him behind again if he made the wrong move. Instead, Graham watched her intently, muscle working in his jaw as her graceful fingers danced across his chest and shoulders, tracing over muscle and skin, inflaming him with her touch as she went. Tilting her head to one side, Ruby shamelessly licked her lip before grinning broadly. “What’s the matter, Hunter? Cat got your tongue?” She snorted at her own little joke. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Bringing her hands to the lapels of the coat she wore, now loosened and unbelted, Ruby parted the fabric on either side and allowed the garment to fall to the floor at their feet. Pleased amusement flooded her veins at Graham’s bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Completely bare beneath the thin jacket, she’d felt a thrill running through her since leaving the house in search of him, and the power sizzling along her nerve endings, where she usually felt as though she were careening out of control, was genuinely intoxicating.

Poor Graham couldn’t seem to move and managed only to hoarsely croak out, “Ruby, w-what are you…?  Someone could… could walk in here and see…  This is a place of business! You can’t just…” He swallowed hard, and her eyes tracked the reflexive movement of his Adam’s apple with ravenous intent.

“Are you sure about that, Doc?” she teased seductively, clicking the ‘c’ with her tongue exaggeratedly, despite his eyes already being glued to her lips - and every other part of her on display before him. Voice low and throaty, cajoling him to take what he very clearly wanted - what she wanted too - she added, “I’m pretty sure I can actually. I’m standing right here waiting. What are you going to do about it?”

His handsome face reflected his inner conflict for several long moments, and Ruby fought not to hold her breath in worried anticipation. She didn’t care that much if he accepted her offer, she tried to tell herself, but deep down she was well aware of how much of a lie that was. Brow furrowed, Graham struggled to resist her manfully, but it was a lost battle even before he began. He had never been able to deny her; they both knew it, and today would not be any different. At last, with a growl of mingled frustration and lust, he lurched forward, his dexterous, long-fingered hands gripped her hips and pulled them into his own roughly before practically devouring her mouth with an almost maddened groan of arousal.

Sinking into his clutches, Ruby thrilled at his loss of control, all synapses firing and the blood boiling in her arteries as he finally gave her exactly what she wanted. Clinging to his bicep to stay upright as her knees went weak, Ruby plunged her other hand into his hair, mussing the honey-coloured curls he’d never outgrown between her fingers and pulling them tightly in response to his ardent desire and how he was further igniting her own.

Desperate by then, Graham was long past caring who might have seen her walk in past closing, what small town rumors might get started, whether or not Ruby was simply using him again to have a little fun and forget the past that nipped at her heels, and how he knew it would chip away another small piece of his soul when they finished and she wouldn’t stay in his arms. Whirling to push her back against the exam table in the center of the room, earning him an enthusiastic moan from deep in Ruby’s throat, even muffled by his own lips over hers.  Sweeping a hand over the cool, hard surface with reckless abandon, Graham cleared it to easily lift her onto the tabletop and soon had her spread out on it, frantically working to strip out of his lab coat and remove his shirt, even as her grasping hands fumbled for the button and zipper of of his pants to free him to her touch.

Writhing against him, Ruby grinned up at him wolfishly, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, every bit the goddess he’d never been able to deny a thing: the dessert from his sack lunch, the use of his first car, and every inch of his body and corner of his heart. She wrapped her long legs around his trim hips, demandingly pulling him closer still, before he thrust forward and finally sunk into her willing body, welcomed home once more.

Leaning over her as he moved, Graham captured her nipple between his teeth, his scruff abrading the sensitive skin around it as he did and stealing her breath when he bit down just at the edge of too much. He captured both her hands, twining their fingers together and pressing them to the steel surface on either side of her head. Setting the rhythm they both craved, feeling the rightness of what he had missed echoing through his body as they moved together, Graham forced himself to take the moment he had; enjoy it, love her enough so that she would feel it, despite refusing to see what they could have always, and not let himself think of what came after.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Killian had just left the kitchen, still contemplating his relationship with his sister and the things Johanna had told him, when he was brought up short by the regal, silent appearance of his mother, Cora Jones, the once-belle of Storybrooke, in the hall nearby, studying him with an icy assessment which made him feel distinctly like she had heard all they had said and could read his mind beside. Forcing himself not to startle or recoil physically like some teenager caught sneaking out past curfew (he had actually never been caught at that in his youth, though by the time he’d had a license and places to run, the dangers parents fear for their children at night had long since struck and the damage been done) Killian gave his mother a nod of respectful deference, smiling at her carefully and waited, knowing there must be something she intended to say.

Cora’s bearing was still poised and correct, standing straight enough to appear taller than her actual height, her chin tilted rather haughtily. Even in the comfort of her own home, before no one but her eldest child, her skirt and jacket ensemble was impeccably tailored and she had not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless. Her eyes had lost none of their shrewdness as she moved nearer to her golden years. And Killian couldn’t help wondering with a blend of bitter sadness if she would allow anything about them to be golden or fulfilling. His mother retained all of the clout and reputation she had held in her prime, but her sharp edges had only grown harder and more jagged with the loss of, first her favored child, and then her husband, to his own grief and poor choices.

He was right of course. A moment later Cora’s clear, measured voice reached his ears with unmistakable authority; as always, she meant what she said and expected to be obeyed. Though his mother had never been especially warm or effusive, Killian had always known she was pleased with him, proud that he was living up to the Jones family name as she saw fit. Things he really had no power or control over - his natural good looks, athleticism, intellect, and so on - were only to be expected, and so, when he excelled in school, made the papers and the Homecoming court, and earned a college scholarship, or when the other mothers in her social circle all enviously wanted their daughters to catch his eye, well then Killian was merely behaving as he ought and garnering just the sort of attention she had hoped he would. He had grown up following in his father’s footsteps, learning all he could about running their small shipping business and how to manage all that would one day be his.

Killian had never rebelled or railed against the expectations, the assumption that he would blindly follow along on the path laid out for him, until recently. He had made several changes to modernize and streamline the business - almost two years ago now - and things had been tense between he and his mother as a result. Cora did not welcome change in any arena, not unless it was on her orders, and though she deeply resented her husband’s gradual decline and eventual abandonment at his death, she did not see why Killian needed to upgrade what had always worked well for Brennan. She had gone as far as threatening to withdraw her shares from the operation until Killian’s changes had doubled - then tripled - their profits, word of mouth bringing in a steady stream of new clients and renewed raves from established ones at their company’s efficiency and success. There was no arguing with such hard evidence, and so Cora had grudgingly relented, but she had not forgotten.

However, even at a glance, Killian could see that the bone she meant to pick with him would not be resolved with patience and time. He gritted his teeth against offering a harsh warning for her to save her breath. He knew before she spoke a word what she wanted to discuss, but this time she would find him every bit as unyielding as she was herself.

Without further preamble, Cora leveled her accusation. “You’re renting that cabin on the marsh to her, aren’t you? Despite what she’s done, and knowing how it would displease me, you’ve let that Swan girl waltz right back into our lives and invited her to make herself at home. I simply cannot understand it, Killian.” Her words were clipped out distinctly, but as cold and pointed as chips of ice. “Do you not remember what associating with the likes of her cost your sister? Or are you looking for a reason to spite me? I hardly think I have done anything to merit such hurtful defiance.”

She waited, seeming to have all the time in the world for her son’s reply, but Killian was still tempted to stare back, challenging her silently, waiting to speak until he discovered whether the pristine veneer she presented to her family right along with the rest of the world would crack and show some human feeling underneath. In the end though, Killian couldn’t hold out forever; she was still his mother, and despite his frustration, the manners she had pressed into him from birth would not allow it. Not only that, but he knew what she had suffered, the pain and loss she had endured - just as he had. It might have made her brittle and untouchable, but he always had the hope somehow that things might thaw between them yet.

With a sigh, he released the answer on a low breath, still meeting her eyes to let her know both his resolve and that he was hardly ashamed of his choices. “You clearly already know that I am, Mother. Though you might not believe this, it was not a decision made to hurt anyone - least of all you. Emma Swan is moving back into town. She needed a place to stay, and ours was available to rent. Honestly, I was glad to have it, to do something to help her out after how horribly we treated her years ago.”

He meant every word, but, as he had expected, her eyes widened with indignance, her voice finally losing its polished control. “What we did to her?!” Cora Jones spluttered, clearly appalled and faintly trembling in her righteous anger. “It was she who took our sweet angel from us. If we had kept Rose away from her… If she hadn’t crept out to meet that vagabond child…. Rose would still be here!”

Killian had heard this argument many times, yet the unfairness of it never ceased to stoke his own temper. Fighting to remain calm, he tried to reason with his mother, to speak in a tone that still remained civil - tightly wound as it was and on the knife’s edge of tipping over. “You know as well as I do that Ms. Swan is not Rose’s killer. There was never any chance of that. She was thirteen years old, still a child just like Rose, and Rose was her only friend in the world. She was as devastated as we were.”

Cora could not have appeared any more injured or insulted if he had drawn back his hand to strike her. “No one has suffered as we have,” she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously, “certainly not that little she-devil! How dare you even suggest it?” She took a seething step closer, appearing as taken by emotion as Killian had seen her through the smooth, proper mask in years. “You mark my words, Killian,” she continued distinctly, eyes boring into him like pinpricks through his skin, “you may have control of this family’s land, the business, all the executive decisions your father left to you as intended, but I do not condone you allowing that woman to live on our property. Not even for a second, do you hear me? There is something not right about her - always has been - and you will live to regret letting her back into our world. Rose must be rolling over in her grave at the very thought - “

Flinching away so abruptly that his mother’s words were cut off and they both stood, breathing harshly in the horrible silence, Killian finally shook his head sadly and broke eye contact. He turned to leave, at last seeing with regrettable finality that Cora Jones would never change her mind, not for anyone or anything, no matter how much time passed. At the door, he looked back at her, his eyes betraying the strange mix of pity and bitterness she had stirred up in him anew. “You’re the one who should feel regret. Rose was good and kind, the best of us all. It would break her heart to know you’ve spent all these years holding a grudge and nurturing hatred against the person she considered another sister. I am finally thinking about what Rose would have wanted. Then maybe we can all let her rest in peace.”

That final admonition voiced, Killian was out the door in the next instant, letting it slam behind him exactly as he had been reprimanded against all his life. Even as one part of him cringed, he also felt a thrill of petty satisfaction too, knowing it made Cora crazy for such noisy outward shows of temper and bad breeding to be on display. Hurrying down the wide front steps to his truck, Killian gripped his keys in hand tightly, not at all sure where he was going, only that any place seemed preferable at that moment.

His cell went off, just as he reached the driver’s side door. Fishing it out as he settled into his seat, Killian pulled the door closed behind him and answered to find Graham on the other end of the line. Too relieved to turn his energy to something - anything - else but the argument he had left behind, Killian didn’t dwell long on why Graham sounded out of breath, cagey, and awkward as he explained how he had planned to meet Emma at the end of the work day, take her to dinner, and then go with her out to the cabin and help her make sure she at least had enough unpacking done to settle in there for the night. It turned out something had come up, and would Killian mind going to meet Emma instead?

While a part of him wasn’t at all sure how fond Emma would be of the development, he couldn’t deny the way his insides leapt at the opportunity to see Emma Swan again and spend some more time with her. Especially if it kept him away from the lit powder keg his home had just become.

“Not sure how Emma’s going to feel about that,” Killian quipped to his buddy lightly, “but I’ll do it. I’m heading her way right now.”

Graham’s relieved thanks made Killian smile as they said goodbye, wondering vaguely what had his friend all tangled up in knots, but he couldn’t dwell on it long. What almost felt like happy anticipation was creeping up on him, and whatever else might be pressing on him, Killian was simply glad to have an excuse to be near Emma Swan.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Some three hours later, Killian’s arms and back ached from lifting heavy boxes and moving them around to various counters and display tables for unpacking, his cheeks ached from grinning and laughing like he hadn’t done in ages, and he knew his eyes must look a bit dazed, mesmerized in Emma’s presence as she breathed some sort of magic into the air around her and onto him, bringing the previously empty and nondescript space to life. She didn’t seem to keep much of the warmth and humor for herself, however, Killian noted painfully, but it was easily felt standing next to her, and his fingers itched to grasp her, to pull her in and hold her tight, give back to her some of the warmth he had felt since he’d walked into her new little shop - particularly welcome after the chill of his encounters with his own family just before he’d arrived.

Thankfully, Emma hadn’t seemed averse to his visit and offer of help, to be followed by dinner in his friend’s stead. She was possibly a little hesitant and uncertain of why he wanted to help out and spend time with her, but it did his conscience good to see that she seemed willing to at least see how the evening went.

After the initial bit of awkwardness upon his arrival, Killian had assured Emma that she should put him to work. Once she had done so, they’d had their hands full and the conversation had begun to flow between them. She was incredibly knowledgeable - not that Killian was surprised, she had always been smart and eager to learn, one of many things she and Rose had shared in common - but he’d never been able to hear her really speak unabashedly about something she loved. Not only did she have an engaging and eclectic collection of art and photography by several known artists, but she also had numerous pieces of her own photography available for purchase as well. When Emma began talking about how she had captured some of the shots, and what she hoped they conveyed, Killian simply couldn’t look away from her features that had come to life with enthusiasm, her eyes alight. It was enchanting; he could think of no other word for it. His lips curved upward irresistibly, without his really even noticing it until she paused, cocking her head curiously before asking, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Startling from the reverie he’d slipped into on the rise and fall of her words, Killian smiled back at her, shaking his head slowly in amazement. “Just marveling at you, honestly. You’re brilliant, Emma.”

“Hardly,” she retorted, making a dismissive noise and waving off his praise, though the pleased blush on her cheeks unmistakably belied her words.

“No, truly… You’ve got a real gift.”

Emma shrugged noncommittally, but didn’t argue with him further, instead she merely studied the photograph on the countertop in front of her, matted but still in need of framing. A wry, wistful tone slipped into her voice as she spoke then, more quietly than she had before, “Well, that’s at least one instance when my added sight is a pleasant benefit.”

Killian’s eyes widened, his attention even more fully captured than it had been, curious as to what she might say next. Emma rarely - if ever - offered to comment on her visions and the things she knew because of them voluntarily. He bit his lip to keep from speaking, from verbally nudging her to continue. Instead he watched, waiting hopefully, breath held, for her to do so if she chose.

Looking up, Emma caught his eyes, but the soul-searching expression pierced right through his chest. “It’s as if the person or animal or place in front of the camera tells me the story it wants to share.” Shaking her head helplessly after that admission, she chuckled at herself before adding, “Yeah, I know that sounds completely crazy.”

“Not at all, Swan,” he breathes, the nickname sliding from his lips naturally and without thought, neither of them reacting to it - almost as if he had never called her anything else. “It’s just like I said… amazing.”

For several minutes, no more words were spoken, the quiet stretching comfortably between them as the shadows of evening lengthened outside the big front window. It was nearly seven-thirty, well past time for dinner, and they both laughed when his stomach rumbled loudly, breaking the spell between them. “What say you, Swan? Time to find some sustenance?”

Eyes glimmering with a mysterious sort of humor, she hedged, “Would you be willing to take a rain check? It’s been a packed couple of days, and I’m hoping to open in a couple more. I’m exhausted, and really just need to make it an early night.”

Considering her words for a moment, Killian studied her before acquiescing, hoping she wasn’t putting him off when it felt like they’d gotten so much closer over the course of the evening. “Fair enough,” he assented before playfully adding, “but I’ll hold you to that rain check. Unless you’re afraid of finding me even more irresistible after a few libations.” He waggled his heavy dark brows at her devilishly until Emma was laughing out loud at his antics.

Only a few minutes later they were ready to go, Emma locking the door of her shop behind them and Killian following her gallantly to her VW. Turning to look up at him where they stood facing each other on the sidewalk, Emma added, “I really would be glad to go to dinner another time, Killian. It’s been a nice evening, and - to be blunt - I could use a few friends. Just so we’re clear that’s all it is.”

Killian felt a tightening in his chest at her proclamation, disappointment clenching in his gut and alerting him that he had already allowed himself to want so much more. “You’ve already decided that, have you?” he responded, fighting to keep his voice light. 

She held his gaze, expression mournful, knowing, and more than a little haunted. “It’s for the best really. Trust me on that. You don’t want to get too close to me. Eventually, I’m too much for anyone to deal with. It gets messy. I’m just sparing us both a lot of hurt in the long run.”

He hummed low in his throat, the deep vibration of the sound almost physically palpable to her as he leaned closer, gauging her reaction with a knowing glimmer in his eye. “You say that now, Swan. And that’s fine, I can be incredibly patient. But I see that there could be so much more between us.”

“Do you indeed?” she queried in an equally teasing measure, his response allowing her to drop the wary seriousness she had spoken with before and banter back with him in return, almost irresistibly.

“Have a gander for yourself if you doubt me,” he offered, holding her gaze, an open expression seeming to lay himself bare before her. “I am an open book to you… just as you are to me.”

Emma caught her breath, helpless but to stare back into his eyes as he asked. Guard down, walls lowered, there was a flash behind her eyes of bare limbs moving in unison, heavy pants of exertion, whispered endearments in a familiar timbre, and a shattered cry of completion in a voice sounding much like her own. 

Blinking free and pulling away with a gasp, she knew what she’d seen, and flushed from the roots of her hair outward. “What was that?” she whispered, almost to herself, even as she knew exactly what she had witnessed. Never had she experienced such a glimpse of something so pleasurable it left her quivering with unquenched need.

“I think you know,” Killian replied with a roguish smirk, though his voice was gentle, almost hiding the slight hurt that swam in the crystal blue of his eyes at the distance she still tried to keep between them. “Possibly the dessert we could enjoy if you let a nice dinner for us progress to its natural conclusion?”

Nodding, she regained her equilibrium at last and reached out to pat him on the shoulder with a sort of playful camaraderie. “Hmm… well, maybe you’d better keep those thoughts to yourself for now,” she taunted. Still, as she settled into the driver’s seat and waved to him while backing away from the curb and pulling onto the street, Killian could see a deep and fragile longing behind her practical nonchalance. She wanted, just as he did; that closeness and heat and belonging, but she wouldn’t allow it for herself. She didn’t trust that anything good could last - and why would she, after all that she had survived already? Possibly she had waited so long to be loved, to feel wanted, that when it was placed before her, she denied what was being offered. While that might have worked for most, he wasn’t going to stay at a careful distance. Not when he could see the loneliness and yearning in her, as clearly as he could see it in his own mirror each morning. He would keep coming back, closer and closer each time, until maybe they could both find what they had been living without for so long.

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