#Devi looks so expectant and vulnerable and so much in love

[primomover]

Kindly wondering (kindly begging on my knees) if it would be possible for you to write a little something sfw with Secondo, involving a sibling hes silently taken a liking to burning herself/themselves out

(No this is definitely not who you think it is. signed, the canadian wife)

hello random anon wife who i DEFINITELY don’t know and love. of course you can ❤️ i got carried away. this isn’t little LMAO

(all sfw, i’ve tried to be as gender neutral as possible!)

-secondo is a bitter old man. his ghouls will tell you that, so will his brothers, and he’ll probably tell you that too. but there is one thing that will always make his resolve crumble, and that’s you.

-you refuse to believe that the man is as scary as people make him out to be. i mean, he’s kind to you- why would he not be to everyone?

-he knows how hard you’ve been working. maintaining the looks of the ministry isn’t an easy job, and with imperator barking down your back due to the approaching holiday mass, the chapel is expected to be spotless.

-this means gum scraped out from under the pews, the marble altar polished until you can see your reflection, replacing of black candles that are too close to the bottom of their wick… the list seems endless.

-you have been stressing for this for weeks now, and he can do nothing but encourage you and remind you that you have a team to rely on too- the responsibility does not fall solely on you.

-you’ve taken too much on, you both know this, and you know that by the time that the day comes, you’re burnt out, exhausted, and anxiety ridden. but you have no other option.

-when you get back from your duties, it’s around 2am on sunday morning. to your surprise, secondo is waiting up for you in your chambers, stirring a cup of your preferred drink.

-“ah, tesoro. come here, you have been working so hard today. let your papa take care of you.”

-he’ll help you get changed into comfortable clothes (freshly washed, still slightly warm from the dryer) and he’ll wrap you in a blanket, pressing a vulnerable and gentle kiss to your forehead.

-“papa, i don’t know what to say…” you take the mug he gives you gratefully.

-“do not say a word, little one. that old crone may not recognise the work you put in but i do. lavori troppo duramente per il tuo bene, devi prenderti cura di te stesso.” (you work too hard for your own good, you have to take care of yourself.)

-he helps you into bed. you want to cry, want to thank him, but you know that your eyes say it all. you are truly thankful that the usually cold man has taken a liking to you in this moment.

-he gestures to the bed and you pat it beside you, smiling gratefully. he sits and lets you settle in on his chest, where you find the perfect spot. you drift off as you feel his worn fingers carding through your hair and he hums to you gently, falling asleep not too long after.

my inbox is open for requests, both sfw and nsfw for any and all ghost characters!

[gmwsuperfan5467890]

Hi there 💕

So I want to know, top 5 fav moments of nhie S3?

Hi 💕

I have so many, it’s so hard to choose.

-Devi telling Nalini that she wants to spend one more year with her. I really loved how their relationship went from butting heads and thinking that they were hated by the other to them openly communicating that they loved each other. I also loved that Nalini allowed Devi to make her own decisions on whether she wanted to go to the school or not.

-Nalini standing up for Devi and then telling Devi that she will find someone who will love her for who she is. I just love how Nalini has evolved so much from season 1 because I cannot imagine season 1 Nalini doing this at all.

-Ben and Paxton talking in the hospital and Paxton carrying Ben in the hallway. Their friendship was so unexpected and I loved how they both acknowledged that the other had certain qualities they wished they had. Paxton telling Ben that he was proud of him was too sweet and I’m glad they acknowledged and even joked about the love triangle situation.

-Devi and Paxton’s moment at graduation. They both acknowledged how the other helped them grow and it was a moment of closure for the both of them. I’m glad they were able to end their relationship amicably and maturely and that neither of them held a grudge. It’s rare to see tv break-ups portrayed in that light.

-I loved all the Benvi moments we got. First, finding out that Devi was Ben’s Valentines day match, then the hint of Devi being jealous in ep 5.

- Devi and Ben’s moment in the hallway when he tells her that he doesn’t want her to go to the school. The way that looked at each other. Devi’s stomach having knots when Ben tells her that he will miss her but not having knots when Paxton thanks her in his speech. The vulnerability it took for Ben to admit that he loves Devi’s personality and that he will miss her. The best part was that Devi’s previous two relationships ended because Paxton and Des thought that either her or the relationship was too much for them but Ben loves her as she is. This moment just cements that Ben is the one for Devi, like all their moments hit different from the other ships but I feel like this moment is definitive proof.

-The END SCENE. My jaw was on THE FLOOR. I did not expect Devi and Ben to get together until season 4. And she CHOSE him. AGAIN. And Paxton was the one who she dreamed about losing her virginity to but in the end she realized that she wanted Ben, that it’s always been Ben.

I was hoping this season would be good but it has exceeded my expectations. The writing was top tier and they were many twists and turns. I am so hyped for season 4!

[teebeornotteebe]

Daxton and the Triangle

Been thinking about this triangle and what it reveals about the Daxton dynamic, and it's clear that Devi pursues these two guys for very different reasons.

With Paxton, here is this guy that she's yearned for, for years and years, this super attractive, super popular jock who seems so far removed from anything she's ever experienced. He's almost otherworldly, compared to her. Sure she approaches him first, but listen to what she says. Devi was asking for a pity romp in the hay. She didn't ask for a relationship because she doesn't believe that he could ever want that. Want *her*. She even says that. She's simply not good enough for him, in HER mind. She's accused Paxton of this more recently and he's had to defend himself, but the truth is that is what Devi herself thinks. She's put Paxton on such a pedestal, she doesn't think she could ever match up. We see that change a little bit in the last ep of S2, after the pep talk from Mohan when she essentially gives up Paxton for her self-worth. Which is GREAT. But that particular insecurity isn't fully gone I don't believe.

Now on the other hand, Paxton has had his 'Eureka' moment when it comes to his feelings for Devi. At first he definitely doesn't think he wants her either. But the progression we've seen from him when it comes to her; - he's gone from being down for an easy lay, to being intrigued by her, to liking her, to REALLY liking her, to now he's willing to expose himself to ridicule and gossip rather than lose her from his life. He wants to be with her more than he wants to hang on to whatever he had before. That no longer satisfies him. The look he has on his face playing video games with the same old group, doing the same old thing, that feels empty to him now. That's Paxton realizing his feelings for Devi are deep and real and worth the sacrifice of his old habits.

The thing is, I don't know if Devi is at a place where she can fully believe that. Honestly I think her lack of belief in Paxton's feelings for her is the reason for the "triangle" in the first place. How many of us desire something so greatly and when we get it, we don't quite know how to handle what we've always hoped for? That's Devi with Paxton.

So when Ben shows romantic interest, and it comes at a time when she is incredibly vulnerable emotionally, she jumps at it. And continues to because I think she was always half expecting the 'thing' with Paxton to crash and burn. And when things do go awry, she swings wildly for the more "possible" scenario, Ben. Not to bash the ship, but Devi suddenly becoming fixated on getting back with Ben, to the point where she does what she does with Aneesa, that's not her realizing she's madly in love and Ben is all she's ever truly wanted. That's her thinking Ben is more "attainable", more on her level. She wants to salvage *something* out of the whole mess, she doesn't want to be alone again and Ben's the easiest of the two to achieve that. Paxton not being interested is almost exactly what she expected deep down, as evidenced by how quickly she adjusted to that. When he climbs into her window in the rain to kiss her (and say thank you), look at her face, she can't quite believe he's there. For *her*.

By the end of the season though, when she picks her self-worth over scraps from Paxton, and HE makes the deliberate decision to be fully with her, I think the balance between them shifts and becomes more equitable. Paxton is the one she truly wants and maybe she's starting to believe he wants her back too. Props to the writers for being able to execute so much growth in their dynamic over what's actually a pretty short period of time. There are some shows out there that took YEARS to get their main couple to get to where Paxton and Devi currently are.

I expect in future season(s), Devi gets to a place through therapy and LIFE where she doesn't think she screws everything up and where she really becomes confident in Paxton's feelings for her. He's had his issues there also but I think he's turned the corner. And I really do believe that an emotionally healthy Devi will BLOSSOM in a relationship with Paxton. As will he. These two are and can be so good together!

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Move Along

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6   🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Speak to me When all you got to keep is strong Move along, move along like I know you do And even when your hope is gone Move along, move along just to make it through

Your hands are mine to hold

click here to be on the update list

NIALL

                                           At first, I wanted to argue, but the way she was looking at me was telling me she was serious. I was not the type to face the persons I had a problem with. I preferred to ignore them or avoid them, but when it came to the guy who broke Devon's heart, I had a different opinion. I knew it was not a solution to hit him but that didn't mean I was not fantasizing about it. He was the kind of guy who did whatever he wanted without consequences and it made me angrier than I thought it would, especially now that he was so close and I could actually see his face. Devon was humiliated, pointed out, and had to leave her college, but him? He just denied the whole thing and continued his life. Devon had to start over while going through a heartbreak, and although I was glad she was here now, it was still a horrible thing to go through.

I placed myself in front of her to shield her from his sight and moved closer, bending down slightly to reach for her hand. I was not expecting it but her fingers immediately squeezed mine and she closed her eyes. I pulled on her hand gently, bringing her with me as she kept her eyes closed, guiding her to my car before she leaned her back against the passenger's door. I stood in front of her, as close as possible without touching her, and let my eyes roam slowly on her face. She seemed sad and hurt and I didn't know how to make her feel better. I wanted to kiss her but I decided against it, telling myself that doing that right after she saw her ex boyfriend would probably not be the best idea. Weirdly, it was the first thing that came to my mind when I thought of a way to comfort her. I held my breath for a few seconds as my heart thumped hard in my chest and finally brought my hands to her face gently, cupping her cheeks.

"Devie, are you okay?" I whispered with concern. I knew she could hear how worried I was in my voice and her eye fluttered open.

She nodded slowly, sending me a soft smile as my thumbs brushed on her cheekbones, making her eyelids flutter again. It took me a while but eventually, I took a small step closer and wrapped my arms around her neck. I was no sure of what she would do but she slid her arms around me, pushing her face between my upper arm and my chest. It felt good to have her so close and I wondered if Devon was affectionate like that because of what had happened to her, or if she had always been like that. Did she need that type of love and asked for it or was it just something natural for her?

"I'll make a deal with you, okay?" I proposed gently, leaning my chin on her head. "We'll go to that conference and we'll ignore him if you want." I felt her try to pull away from me but I held her closer. "And then we'll grab our stuff and drive to my apartment. We'll miss a few days of school and just do things that you like so you can stop thinking about him."

She seemed to relax in my arms but her hands gripped my shirt in my back and I felt her rub her nose on my arm.

"Where do you live?" she asked low, turning her head slightly so make sure I understood what she was saying.

"A few hours away."

"You have too much money." she mumbled, making me laugh and shake my head.

"Maybe." I shrugged, loosening my embrace. It took her a few seconds to move back and she tilted her head. "Do you have anything important this week?"

"No, but I don't know If I should leave."

My eyes roamed on her face gently. "You told me to take you far away from here, yea?"

Her lips parted slowly and she nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated, bringing one of my hands to her shoulder. "Hey, we'll go there, stay close to the door, and ignore him." There was a short moment of silence and I breathed in. "Come on, let's eat."

"I'm not.. really hungry anymore." she admitted, glancing down and then looking back in my eyes. "I'll just go back to our room."

I knew what I was proposing to her was not ideal, but attendance was required for that conference and failing a class just because of his stupid ass would just make things worse. I wanted her safe and happy and I was really hoping she'd agree to spend some time away from here. I had to admit I wanted to stay far from him too, if only because I had no idea how I'd react if I was near him.

"You need to be alone?" I asked in a low tone,, raising my eyebrows. "It's okay, you know. But I'll bring you back something to eat. You have to eat something."

She rolled her eyes a bit but I saw a smile draw itself on her lips as she nodded. I wanted to walk her back to our room but that sounded a bit controlling and when she walked past me, I turned around and called her name. She stopped and turned to me too, making my lips part slightly. I didn't know why but as I stared at her at this exact moment, something inside me seemed to hatch, and an intense feeling spread all over my body. The girl standing in front of me was the person I loved the most in my life, and I was ready to do anything to ensure her happiness. This is what I wanted, and that was what I was going to aim for, from now on.

"Don't go there okay? Not without me. Please."

"Don't worry, Niall." she replied, shaking her head and sending me a sad smile. "I don't even want to go. But since I have to, there's no way I'm going there without you."

---

I walked back in our room about half an hour later, throwing my keys on my bed and placing the box with our food on my desk.

"Honey! I'm home!" I joked with a grin.

I turned around swiftly when the bathroom's door opened and my smile fell immediately when I saw her. She had changed into a dress, a different one than the one she wore that time I saw her at Lewis', and she had put make up on. My eyes fell on her red metallic lipstick and I don't think I ever wanted to kiss her more than at this exact moment.

"W-What do you think?" she asked a bit shyly, pressing her lips together as I took a step closer.

My eyebrows raised and I pushed the air out of my lungs, shaking my head slightly. My eyes traveled on her body and when it met hers again, I smiled.

"I think anyone who's ever broken up with you will regret it, and anyone who never dated you will wish they did."

She rolled her eyes and pushed gently on my chest with both her hands, making me smile even more. She walked to the food and checked. I saw her grab some whipped cream with her finger and suck on it before turning to me with a smile.

"Thanks for that." she let out. I didn't know if it was for the food or for the compliment but I decided not to ask. "We can eat on my bed if you want, I know how much you hate it when we eat on yours."

I nodded and we sat in silence, facing each other as we ate our pancakes slowly. I kept glancing at my watch and it made me realize that I was actually nervous for that stupid conference. I wanted everything to go well but I was scared she'd end up being hurt and it would sort-of be my fault since I was the one who insisted that she'd attend it. I was about to tell her we should just forget the conference and leave now but she took me out of my thoughts.

"I'm not doing that for him, you know?" she pointed out as I looked up at her. "The dress and all that," she shrugged, glancing down. She looked embarrassed and I was not sure why. "I'm doing it for me. I don't want him to regret me, I want him to know I'm totally fine without him. That he didn't break me. That I'm not hooked on him anymore, and that he didn't fuck me up."

I swallowed hard as I stared at her. I didn't know what to answer to that. She didn't need to justify the reason why she wanted to dress up to me, but the fact that she trusted me enough to tell me was important.

"Devie, you look amazing." I confessed cautiously. "But you always do. With or without make up. In a dress or in a pair of sweatpants. And he doesn't deserve you in a dress or in sweatpants. You're too good for him and I hope karma gets to him, someday."

Her lips curled a bit but she didn't answer and I smiled back at her. She seemed nervous but when we walked in the room, I could feel her tense next to me. We took a seat on the last row, near the exit and when he walked out, everyone stopped talking. I felt Devon's fingers grip my thigh tight and glanced down at her hand. Her knuckles had turned a white color and I cleared my throat, bringing my hand over hers to try and calm her. It was tough for me to listen to anything he had to say, even if the History of Art has always been a fascinating subject for me. All I could think about was Devon riding him, or how vulnerable she seemed to be earlier when we saw him for the first time. Both emotions seemed to fight in my brain and I had to force myself to get out of my thoughts a few times.

However, when his eyes fell on me, I squeezed Devon's fingers tighter. He stopped for a second as he stared at us and without thinking, I wrapped my free arm around Devon's shoulder. I was not sure if once again, I wanted to shield her from him, or if I did that to prove him something, but I knew I wanted to protect her, and that's all that mattered for now. I thought she'd tense again but the opposite happened. She seemed to relax against me and the grip of her fingers loosened a bit. He finally turned around and kept talking and I waited a few more seconds to turn my head slightly her way and lick my lips.

"You still okay Devie?"

She turned to me and I didn't expect it. I held my breath, my gaze falling on her lips again, but she was so close I could kiss her. I couldn't stop thinking about the taste of her lips with lipstick on and I stopped moving. I even stopped breathing. Her thin lips parted and so did mine, but it's only when I received something right in the cheek that I got out of my thoughts. Clearly, Devon and I were not alone and apparently, some people wanted to bring us back to reality. I looked down at the small ball of crumped paper on my lap and spread my thighs to let it fall in the ground. I looked up, trying to find out who had done this, but as my eyes roamed on the people around, I realized there were some whispers and glances sent our way. I had no idea why everyone was looking at us, especially since I believed we were well hidden in the back, but I  just crossed my legs and ignored everyone, pulling slightly on my arm to bring Devon in a quick hug from the side.

I got up very quickly when the conference was over and stretched a bit before leaving. Devon followed me, gripping my arm to make sure we wouldn't lose each other and when we got outside, I turned only to see her frowning at the screen of her phone.

"What's wrong?"

She looked up  at me, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted, but she just shrugged. It made me frown too but my phone beeped before I could ask her again. I grabbed it and when I saw the words written, I chuckled in surprise. The text message was from Lewis and the right corner of my lips raised up.

'Are you dating Devon now?'

"Why is Lewis asking me if we're dating?" I frowned more, looking at her. "He wasn't even here."

"No, but Daxia is." she explained, raising her nose up in a cute grimace. "She just texted me about the same thing."

I realized what she meant and I tilted my chin up while rolling my eyes. That was exactly how rumors started and I hated it. I was not in the mood to answer questions or to have people discuss my relationship with Devon together.

"What do we answer them, then?" I asked, shaking my head as she shrugged.

"Nothing."

I chuckled but my smile fell immediately when I saw him walk closer. I knew it was too late to leave and running away would be awkward and would generate a lot of questions. Instead, I cleared my throat and whispered very quickly.

"He's coming here."

Once again, she tensed and I took a step closer but I was not quick enough and when he touched her shoulder to get her attention, I wanted to hit him even more. She turned to him and forced a smile but I knew it was fake, even if it probably looked real to everyone else. She was good at hiding how she felt but I could always decipher her expressions and I had no idea why.

"Miss Eaton, it's been a while, how have you been?"

His light eyes roomed on her and she cracked a bigger smile before shrugging a shoulder. "Oh, uhm, great, thank you."

"You should introduce us." I let out a bit louder, making both of them turn my way.

"Oh yea, of course, Niall, this is Mister Henry Thompson." she let out, taking a step closer to me subtly. "He was one of my teachers at my old college."

"Nice to meet you, Niall." He reached his hand out to me but I just glanced at it and crossed my arms on my chest. There was no way I was going to shake hands with that guy.

"Good conference." I let out after he took his hand back. "But hey, you know what they say. Those who can, do; those who can't, teach."

His lips curled and he chuckled low. "Apparently."

"That must be why some teachers enjoy the... power they have, you know? On young minds, I mean." I kept going. "Oh but not you, right? You'd never abuse the power you've been given. I was talking in general."

I knew it felt very awkward between the three of us suddenly but I couldn't feel bad. It's only when Devon took an other step back that my heart seemed to skip a beat. I felt her back against my chest as a girl walked our way, her eyes glued to Henry who smiled back at her.

"Cammy?"

The pretty blonde girl turned around and when her eyes met Devon's, her face changed completely. She seemed uncomfortable and now this whole thing had just became a shit show.

"Dev, hi." the girl said, wrapping her arms around herself in an embarrassed way.

"Cammy used to be my best friend." Devon explained, her eyes never leaving the other girl.

"Oh, the traitor?"

Cammy's face suddenly changed but I couldn't get to feel bad about anything I had said in the past few minutes. They both deserved way worse than that and feeling bad and uncomfortable for a while didn't even come close to the pain they put Devon in. Perhaps, it was not my place to do that, but I didn't care.

"Devie, they're fucking, you realize that, right?"

Their faces changed but I noticed Devon's lips curl slightly. She was trying to hide her amusement but it made me smile too. I had no idea why we were still there, standing near them and trying to pretend we wanted to be there.

"You wanna leave?" I asked, raising my eyebrows before she nodded.

I smiled softly at her and extended my hand. She seemed to hesitate as she stared at my palm but when she looked up at me, her lips curled more. I felt her hand slide gently on mine and I squeezed her fingers. We walked away slowly and I brought our hands up, twisting them to make her twirl on herself. She giggled, her dress dancing around her and when she turned her head to look at me, I bent down closer to whisper.

"Don't look back okay? Don't give them this satisfaction."

---

We held hands until we got back into our room and when I closed the door behind us, Devon started laughing. We stared at each other but she wouldn't stop laughing, so hard that it made my lips curl and I chuckled too. She seemed happy and I was not sure why, but witnessing it was an incredible gift. I thought she'd be devastated but here she was, laughing while staring at me, her eyes sparkling with joy and softness, and I took it all in, letting her happy feelings invade me too.

Suddenly, she walked very quickly to me and got on her tiptoe. I only had time to hold my breath when her mouth crashed on mine. She didn't deepen the kiss and I didn't have the guts to either. It didn't feel like a passionate kiss, just a thank you kiss, but it was enough for me.

"Their faces, I swear!" she giggled some more as she took a step back.

I felt a shiver cross my back but I didn't know if it was because of the kiss or because now that her body was far from mine, I could feel the cool air from outside reach to me.

"I was stuck. I normally am quite good at talking back or being sassy but.. I just couldn't say anything." she admitted with a big grin on her face. "I thought I was just going to look like an idiot and spend days thinking of all the come backs I could have thrown at them but.. Niall, you were perfect. Thank you."

"You... You're welcome."

She tilted her chin up to look in my eyes and I looked down at her. She reached for one of my hands and tilted her head as a fond smile draw itself on her still red lips. It made me wonder if I had some stains of it on my own lips.

"I like you, Niall." she whispered, her eyes never leaving mine. "I really really like you. And If I hadn't sworn I'd never date anyone ever again..."

She didn't finish her sentence, she just sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

"Okay," she nodded firmly, looking at me again. "Let's pack our stuff and leave."

[catty-words]

Hello cory! Have you seen the promo pictures for S2 of NHIE with the pro/cons list for Ben and Paxton? Any thoughts?

honestly? head full, thoughts racing so. thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble!

it’s been my experience that promotional materials released for new seasons of television shows are overwhelmingly from the first episode, and i doubt the nhie photos are an exception. so, keeping that in mind that these stills are likely all just kicking off the undoubtedly wild ride that will be season two, let’s discuss the love triangle.

right off the bat, i love the implication that devi’s not ready to make a hard and fast choice about which boy she’s most interested in. and i honestly should have anticipated this because it’s not really about the boys, and it never was!! it’s about how devi’s relationship with either of them reflects back on her. so of course our girl—image-conscious, hyper-intelligent, and romantically-inexperienced as she is—isn’t going to rush headlong into one relationship over the other. she’s gonna take the time to consider what each choice offers her. and, ultimately, what she’s boiled things down to is the way being with ben enhances her (or rankles her, as it were) internally vs. the way being with paxton enhances her externally.

which isn’t fair to paxton, right? his journey in season one was all about coming to appreciate devi as more than just what the high school caste system has dictated her to be. namely, weird and nerdy. so the fact that devi is looking at paxton and only seeing a hot, popular guy who’s bad at school speaks to how little she actually came to understand him as a person. we, the audience, know that, more than being hot and dumb, paxton is loyal, hard-working, and self-conscious about his reputation for being bad at school.

and that conflict between how paxton appreciates devi for more than what she is on the surface vs. devi appreciating the image of paxton more than she appreciates him as a person makes me very interested in the scene from this still:

the expression on paxton’s face here strikes me as open and vulnerable. likely, he’s laying his heart on the line—in front of his bros, no less, if i’m identifying the background actors correctly—and i’m so, so excited to see how being confronted with this version of him that’s so different from the one she keeps in her head will affect devi. will she continue looking at him and only seeing the myth, or will she slowly start to accept him as a whole person? how long will the process take? how long will paxton put up with devi appreciating only the image of him and nothing deeper? no offence intended to him, but will he notice that’s happening at all or will he continue to be pretty clueless about her deeper motivations? i don’t know, but i’m very curious to find out.

as for the ben side of things, i’m obviously partial to how much deeper his and devi’s relationship is—internal vs. external and all that—but i also really like the vibe i get from the picture overall, which is that devi is looking at a deeper connection and a surface-level image boost as being equally important. they’re really not comparable at all, but it makes complete sense for devi to value them in a similar way. in fact, i’d argue that her characterization thus far puts paxton at an advantage. she’s way more interested in surface-level image than she is in the promise of deep connection and intimacy.

anyway, what i like most about ben’s side of the board is how his pros and cons interact with and enhance each other. devi likes that he’s smart, but in the past he’s used that razor-sharp wit to be kind of a dick. ben challenges devi, but sometimes the challenge turns to bitter rivalry. ben has the advantage of being hella rich as a potential image boost, but he’s not conventionally attractive so it’s a mixed image boost at best. and the thing that pleases me about the way these descriptors all reflect back on each other is how it speaks to devi’s complete and total understanding of ben as a person. what’s good about him is also bad about him and she sees all of that, much in the way he sees all of her.

setting aside both boys for a second and focusing solely on devi, i love her pleased-as-punch grin in the photo. as a pop-culture savvy and—i love her, but let’s be honest—exceedingly self-involved character, it makes sense that the drama inherent in a love triangle is not lost on her. privately, she’s having the time of her life discussing the possibility of two different relationships when, at the beginning of the school year, she was stuck praying to the gods to drop some fictional dude in her lap and setting her sights on a gay guy in the meantime.

(side note: i’m expecting devi’s going over these pros and cons with eleanor and fabiola and i’m really nervous about the way this could set up the fact that she learned nothing at all last season, re: being a better friend. sure, a love triangle is a big deal and eleanor, being pop-culture savvy herself, is probably equally excited about the prospect of drama, but i hope against hope devi’s not about to let this situation overshadow her friends’ needs for another season)

anyway, though she’s privately having the time of her life, in practice...

...she seems really uncomfortable to be stuck in the middle, and i am intrigued by the potential of her shutting both paxton and ben down because she just can’t handle the responsibility of juggling their interest in her. i mean, look at ben’s body language here. dude is part Notice Me, Devi!! part side-eyeing paxton with some blatant Back Off energy. and though paxton is, naturally, much chiller about the vibes he’s throwing off, he’s still projecting a similar competitiveness back at ben.

since she’s wearing the same outfit in both photos, i do wonder if whatever happens in shapiro’s classroom prompts her and the girls to go back to devi’s place and make their list of pros and cons. having some ridiculous mid-class outburst be the reason the three of them spend a whole scene discussing devi’s love life would make me feel better about devi’s relationship with fabiola and eleanor since there’s a difference between her insisting on the triangle as a topic of discussion and school day events prompting the discussion. but i digress.

i will leave you with this final and only semi-related note: ben in a jean jacket my beloved!!!

[monstrous-femme]

Post season 1 Daxton fic? Summertime pool party?

Summer in the Air, Bodies In the Heat 

(or read it on ao3 here)

The last time Devi Vishwakumar had been this close to a pool, she’d fallen into it.

But that wasn’t going to happen this time. She had a hot boyfriend, her old friends were back, and she was wearing the cutest one-piece Old Navy had had to offer, courtesy of her mom saying that bikinis were just underwear with less fabric and she would not let her daughter leave the house in one.  

Everything was coming up Devi.

Even if the boyfriend wasn’t who she’d been expecting.

She looked across the pool at Ben, who was chatting with Trent and gesturing broadly with his beer. Devi never thought she’d be the one elevating her boyfriend’s social status, but she was the reason Trent and Paxton had come to Ben’s party. In fact, almost everyone here was a friend of hers. Fabiola and Eleanor had brought along their partners, and a few more of the popular kids had shown up because Paxton was there. It wasn’t a rager, but it was the sort of high school pool party Devi had always assumed she’d be invited to once she was popular and desirable. She sat down with her legs dangling into the pool, kicked at the warm water, and sighed.

 “What’s up, Vishwakumar?” Paxton asked, climbing out of the pool to sit next to her. He shook his head, sending drips of chlorinated water all over Devi.

 “Not much, Hall-Yoshida.”

 Paxton tilted his head. “Mmm. No. Doesn’t work as well with a hyphenated name.”

 “Guess not.”

 “Seems like your boy over there is getting along with Trent.”

 Right. Because Ben, not the incredibly athletic Adonis with the easy smile sitting next to her, was her boy. Friend, she added in her mind. He was her boyfriend, ever since the day after Malibu, when he showed up at her house saying he’d broken up with Shira, and he looked so eager and vulnerable and her mom was smiling at him and she thought, why not?

 Ben Gross made sense. Neck in neck for top of the class, Ivy-league bound, and already in her mom’s good graces. Devi never would have been allowed to go to a boyfriend’s pool party if Paxton was the boyfriend in question.

 “Yeah, wonder how long that’s gonna last.”

 “Not long, from the looks at it.” Paxton leaned closer and pointed. His shoulder brushed against Devi, sending a jolt through her body. “See? Gross has that scrunched up look he gets when he’s trying not to correct someone. I give him ten seconds.”

 “You don’t know him as well as I do.”

 “Oh yeah?”

 Devi smirked. “He’s not gonna make it five.”

 “Ten bucks?”

 “No way. My mom doesn’t give me that kind of cash. I’ll bet you three quarters and that broken monkey keychain at the bottom of my backpack.”

 “Lil D, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

 They shook on it.

 “Okay, so that was already like three seconds—don’t look at me like that, Devi, I’m not going to let you cheat—so it’s four, fi—”

 Paxton didn’t even make it through the word “five” before Ben had started gesturing earnestly, causing Trent’s arms to cross and his eyebrows to scrunch together.

 “Ha!” Devi laughed. “Pay up, loser.”

 “But what can I possibly give you that’s equivalent to a broken monkey keychain?”

 “Um, excuse me, that keychain has an emotional value of seven million dollars and eighty-three cents.”

 “How about—” Paxton dug through the pockets of his swimsuit (and hey, why did guys get pockets on swimsuits?) and pulled out their contents. “Okay, um, a rubber band, some lint, and a stick of gum that you probably shouldn’t actually put in your mouth.”

 Mouth. Shit, now she was thinking about mouths—was she looking at his mouth? Was he looking at her mouth? That kiss a few months ago had been nothing—it wasn’t like Paxton had followed up on it in any way—so why was he looking at her mouth?

 “Um, yeah, that’s fine. I mean, you still owe me the seventy-five cents, but—”

 Paxton laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “I’m good for it. Take it easy, Devi.”

 “Yeah, I will—I mean, you too—”

 “Ho-ly shit.” Paxton was no longer listening. He leaned forward, starting at Ben and Trent. “Is Gross going in for the kiss?”

 “What? No way. Ben’s not—”

 But he was. Ben was leaning towards Trent with the same anger-turned-intensity-turned-arousal that he used to look at Devi with. Ben, her boyfriend, who she’d always assumed was straighter than like, Jonah Hill or whoever, was leaning in as though he were about to kiss—Trent? Trent, the guy who thought that bananas were a root vegetable?

 “He’s pulling back.” Paxton turned to look at Devi. “Thank God. That would have been awkward. Since you two—”

 Devi was already scrambling for her phone. Are u hot for Trent???

 She could see Ben pull out his phone and look at it.

 No, I am obviously not “hot for Trent,” what are you talking about?

 You almost kissed him!

 No I didn’t!

 You think I don’t know wut u look like when you’re about to kiss someone?

 Are you really accusing me of trying to cheat on you with Trent?

 You should do it.

 What?

 If you want to. I think—I think if we want to kiss other people, maybe we should listen to that.

 What?

 Never mind, just a dumb idea, I don’t know what I was talking about.

 Oh my god. You want to kiss him don’t you?

 Trent? Ew, no!

 Not Trent, you idiot. Paxton. I can see you two all cozied up next to each other. Maybe we should just be friends. I can tell who you really want to be with.

 Are you accusing me of cheating on you?

 Well? Should we break up?

 What?

 If I kissed Trent, would you kiss Paxton?

 WHAT?

 Stop staring at your phone and look up, dummy.

 Devi looked up, and across the pool, Ben had put his hands on opposite sides of Trent’s face and was pulling him in. Trent looked confused, but after a laugh he put his hands on Ben’s waist. It was a short kiss, nothing more than a peck except for the thoughtful look on both of their faces as they separated.

 “Wow.” Paxton took a deep breath. “I did not see that coming. Devi, I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t have invited Trent if I’d thought—”

 “Can I kiss you?”

 “What?”

 “It’s just, I’ve been really wanting to kiss you again for a long time, and if Ben can kiss other people—and we just broke up over text like, half a second ago, and I really like him better as a friend and academic rival who I hate sometimes, and—”

 “Yeah.” Paxton’s voice was as soft as water, rippling in the wind.

 “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.” He gave a half-smile. “You can kiss me.”

 Devi leaned in as far as she dared. Paxton slid his fingers up her arms, gently pulling her in by the shoulders. His lips met hers, soft and firm. Her whole body lit up with electricity. She was swimming, fast and furious through an ocean that no longer threatened to engulf her. Her fingers brushed against his chest, and she didn’t pull them away. She didn’t run. She didn’t cry. She didn’t tell herself to love another boy, a safer boy.

 Instead, she slid her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck, pulling him closer for more.

[rainsonata]

Doppelgänger 5/15

Chapter 05: Smokes and Mirrors

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; none Rating: M Word Count: 7,006

Summary: It was like looking into a mirror. What happens when one’s reflection talks back and throws uncomfortable questions? El Search Party struggles to find entrance into the Demon Realm, but Dominator has a plan.     

Alternative Title: Dominator fucked up and now everyone meets their alternative selves 

AO3 Link / FF.NET Link

— [Chapter 01] [Chapter 02] [Chapter 03] [Chapter 04] [Chapter 05] [Chapter 06] [Chapter 07] [Chapter 08] [Chapter 09] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] —  

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

Class Notes: 

Canon Path: Knight Emperor, Aether Sage, Daybreaker, Rage Hearts, Code: Esencia, Comet Crusader, Apsara, Empire Sword, Doom Bringer, Ishtar and Chevalier (Innocent), Bluhen   

Alternative Path: Rune Slayer, Oz Sorcerer, Anemos, Furious Blade, Code: Ultimate, Fatal Phantom, Devi, Flame Lord, Dominator, Timoria and Abysser (Catastrophe), Richter

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

Knight Emperor

He was floating, fading in and out of consciousness in the depths of the mind. When Knight’s mind surfaced, the pain returned to his sense, tiny needles streaming pass his pores. Red flashed past his vision and his eyes snapped open. His hands reached for his chest, feeling for a heart pulsing through. Heavy audible breaths and the smell of moss greeted the knight.  

Cave, Knight grasped to make form a cohesive thought. He was trapped in a demon-infested cavern. Demons stronger than the ones he and his friends have fought in the past. The biggest one had geodes growing from is back and its insides - no, the demon was a crystal monster. It could have broken his spine into two if not for… 

The red-haired knight held his gaze at the man in front of him. A scar in the form of a pink jagged line slashing downward, lanky limbs dangling to the sides, and translucent skin thin as parchment paper. Who was he? Why did he share the same face as Bringer, who was nowhere as thin or gangly as this stranger?

“Add?” He backed into a wall.

“Elsword!” Mad Paradox exclaimed.  

“What are you doing here?”

“Elsword!”

“Why do you keep saying my name?” Knight was frustrated.

“Elsword!” He feigned disapproval. “Is that how you greet an old friend? This is the part where you thank me.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Or do you~?” Paradox sang.

Knight kept his lips sealed into a straight line. He knew Bringer, but he never met this man. This could be a trap. It was an attempt to get him to talk, that had to be the case. There was no hiding it that he was on his own and was vulnerable once cornered by multiple enemies. As the leader of the El Search Party, Knight was the perfect target because he had access to information about the El that any of their enemies would use to their advantage. If outsiders knew why they were in Demon Realm, that would put his friends in danger, a risk Knight wasn’t willing to test. Not after the effort they poured into rescuing him. He wasn’t going to put their efforts in vain without repaying them.  

What was Paradox? He didn’t look like a Henir cultist with the purple and magenta color scheme in contrast to the black and electric blue monsters in Elrianode. Unlike Henir cultists, the time traveler acted by himself when the cultists always appeared in bigger groups with monsters in their wake. The black sclera reminded him of the demons in Lanox, but that couldn’t be it. His movements were too fluid to belong to those of a demon.

Ishtar was never going to let him off the hook if he was to ever suggest that demons lacked grace.  

“Why the bleak face?” Paradox chuckled, “You can talk to me. I don’t bite.”

“Tell me what happened,” Knight wasn’t as convinced.  

“Someone got lost and the cute monster said goodnight.”  

“I fought demons and a bigger one,” Knight said with curtness.

“Avoidable battles if you weren’t running and screaming so much,” Paradox rolled his eyes, iridescence and mechanical in eerie uncanniness. “Why are Elbrats so loud?”

Jagged ridges graveled to the ceiling and the walls enclosing the cavern, paving uneven paths the Dark Agate left behind. Limestone lined the walls and peeled away. Crystals from the ground up and black ink blots painted the ground until coming to an abrupt halt midway to where Knight sat. His forearm was cracked with dry blood and scar tissue forming where it hurt the most, wincing when he stretched and pulled a tendon.

Crushed boulders trampled over, stalagmites and stalactites shattered into pieces and the ground weakened from the fight Knight had with the crystal monster. Pebbles crumbled under his boots into fine dust. The cave echoed with the sound of water dripping from the ceiling, sharp hisses from an unknown source unseen by the knight. He squinted for lines of purple amethysts, his gaze wandering to the ledge leading to the abyss below.    

“Where’s the monster?” 

“Gone.” Paradox teased, “Do you miss it already?” 

Again with the all-knowing tone and shit-eating grin like they knew each other. This man was crazy acting like they were somehow connected. Calling himself an old friend and now commenting on his fighting style. How would Paradox know about why he preferred taking on his opponents first on first over sneaking around and avoiding fights? He was a knight, not an assassin.

Although… Paradox wasn’t wrong on pointing out the obvious. Hours of getting ambushed by demons placed a toll on Knight’s energy and resources. By the time he faced the Dark Agate, he was low on stamina and lacked the initial vitality he had at the beginning of his trek through the cave. Knight came in blind with the belief that it would fight like the smaller monsters, a beginner’s mistake that deserved much chastise. Perhaps he let his arrogance get into his head because a child was with him and Knight wanted to prove that everything would be okay.

Anger flickered in his core. How stupid could he be? It was no better than cutting corners in training for the sake of flashiness. There was a flash of pain replaced by numbness and a period of timeless nothingness, but he was…          

“Alive,” Knight held up his hands. Fingerless gloves steeped in iron red, a reeking metallic smell mixed with his sweat. Whispering to himself, “I’m alive. How?”

“Can’t let the main character die in a side story, now, can I?” Paradox cackled.

Knight realized. He was rescued by Paradox, not unlike the many times Bringer watched his back in Elrianode. An explanation he pieced together with the minimal informal he had, but it failed to answer more persisting questions. The time traveler spoke in rhetoric suggesting the impossible, an observer from another realm. 

Perplexed, Knight naturally wanted to ask more but stopped himself in realizing that would only result in more cryptic answers from the noodle spaceman. His answers were as vague as to how or why the El Search Party kept fighting brainwashed enemies for the past few years. One would think half of Elrios was brainwashed from the number of unavoidable fights they had.     

“And the child?” Knight asked. Surely there was something of them left if he was alive. When Paradox didn’t answer, he yanked on the time traveler’s collar, forcing the other to lean down at his eye level. “What happened to them?” 

Still smiling, Paradox laughed. “What child?”

“There was a child,” Knight explained. “They were with me, they-”

“Were they, now?” Paradox snickered. “A dangerous place for children to wander into such as yourself.”

“I’m eighteen years old,” he growled.

“Hardly a difference.”

“They were defenseless and I was the only one who could fight.”

He told them to stay close to him, hang on and let him take care of the Dark Agate. Leaving a child alone would have made them into an easy target for the crystal monster to pray upon. What option did Knight have without risking another life? In the end, he wasn’t strong and he had no one else to rely on. Not even someone who was as elusive as the child could avoid those shards when the monster let the lights out. 

The child pulled no strains with their weight when Knight lifted them up, less than what one would expect for a child of their height and age. Up close, a deep scar marked against one side of their cheek, a zigzag and a pair of asymmetrical eyes. Black sclera identical to ones looking into Knight’s field of vision with a devious expression.

Horror breached Knight’s thoughts. No. No, no, no, no, no, please no. He knew fate had a crude sense of humor and loved irony, but he didn’t want to deal with this again. Dread prickled his tanned skin when a pair of black gloves held his chin up. The undersides were hot pink, almost red.   

“You’re the child?” Knight choked.  

Paradox clapped his hands and beamed, “Congratulations! You’re faster than the last Elsword.”

“I’ve been protecting an old man?”

“Twenty-one, brat.” Paradox laughed, “Did you enjoy my gift?”

The greatsword in Knight’s hand suddenly felt heavier in his hands, the redhead aware that its original owner was not present. This belonged to Rune, his counterpart. They were the same, yet there were distinctive differences that made them separate people. If Rune was here, the rest of the El Search Party couldn’t be far behind.  

The blade held a shine and a thicker build than what Knight was used to, a type of metal favored by battle mages to amplify their magic. Sparks flew from the blade when struck against boulders. His counterpart chose to compensate for their shared weakness of magic, why didn’t Knight think of that?

“This isn’t mine,” Knight said.

“A little mix-up,” Paradox was less concerned about the details. “That fight you had with the demon took longer than I anticipated. You’re not ready for Rosso.”

“Ready for who?” Knight demanded to know.

Sharp pain seized his chest, his insides twisted. Knight hugged his stomach, reminding himself to keep his breaths even, fanning himself with his hand and leaning forward with his sword for support. He wiped his forehead and hugged his sides. Colors blurred in a mess of tears as Knight applied pressure to his forehead. He may be alive, but experience told him that he wasn’t out of the woods yet. The pain dulled into discomfort, persisting in his abdomens and chest. Knight lowered his head and wanted to throw up whatever Rage put into the dried meat. 

Knight cursed.

“Oops, looks like the Time Sickness finally kicked in.” Paradox said with an unapologetic giggle.  

Time what? Knight didn’t like the sound of that and turned pale, “What are you doing playing around with me? What did you do to me?”

“You still don’t get it?” Paradox feigned annoyance, lips curled up and showing his teeth. “Ah, right. It’s your first time. I’ll have to fix that.”

Lights went out.

Crystals glistened in the blackened space, magenta flashed in the form of Paradox’s suit and artificial eye. The sound of gravel and something cracking under pressure snapped Knight’s attention to the source, waving his sword in the uncomfortable darkness. 

When the lights returned, the older man was no longer where he once was. Dark laughter flooded his eardrums in unison with unnerving cackling. Paradox emerged from the ceiling, head sticking out from a ripple in the dimension, torn into pieces for the time traveler to tinker with as he pleased. Below him was the Dark Agate holding the ominous lantern in its hand.

Paradox had a fluid gait, crossing his legs one over the other with the skill of an acrobat walking over a wire with fear absent in his stance. He lacked the guarded tension hallmark of most adventurers in a cave home to demons and monsters. Hands over the wall, manipulating Dynamo with the same familiarity Knight had with his sword.

Crystal shards rained down on Paradox, thin needles penetrating him with the older male barking an ugly sob and guffawing in pain. His body shuddered and his limbs went limp without struggling as the Dark Agate scooped him up, claws curled at Paradox’s chest. A loud crunch broke from the darkness.

Knight looked away. He wanted to hurl. It crushed Paradox like grains of sand, no time for the older man to even cry or choke before his life was stolen. The redhead drew his sword with unsteady hands, dread and tranquil anger sending sparks at his fingertips. Knight’s eyes fluttered to discover that the traveler’s body missing.  

A dimension ripped open from above, sliding to where the monster was for gravitational spheres to downpour with intensity shaking the ground from the bottom up. Rough crystal formed at the edges of the portal and a figure dressed in black appeared, phase shifting next to Knight.    

His left shoulder blade shattered into diamond shards; Paradox’s body lost visibility in shape and electricity emitted from his core. There were no holes in his clothes or blood to suggest he had been injured in the fight. It was as if Paradox was never wounded. 

Paradox ripped open a portal with his hands, clawing at the edges with his hands. Pulling his foot into the entrance, he stretched and widened the portal with his arms and legs until it was the size of the Dark Agate. He reappeared from behind, generating energy and shoving the monster into the abyss. The older male moved the portal to the ground level as the opening shrunk in size. An arm was torn off from sharp edges applying pressure to the Dark Agate’s arm reaching out for them. Paradox kicked the still twitching arm and stomped until it ceased its movements and fell silent. 

Knight gawked at the other man dusting blood off his sleeves, “Your spine. It snapped. The monster, you-”

“Awww, look at you.” Paradox cooed, “Seal of Time reduced you to an infant.”

“What was that?”

He grinned, "can’t die if you undo time on yourself."

That’s why they were alive after fighting that monster. Paradox unwinded their injuries and restored their lives. With powers like that, Paradox had time and luxury to learn the enemies’ tactics and won otherwise impossible battles. But why would he have an interest in keeping Knight alive? The time traveler cheated death more than once, but how much would that unhinge a person?

“What do you want from me?” Knight asked weakly.

“What kind of popcorn do you like?” Paradox didn’t answer, as usual.

Knight blinked, “I’m sorry, what?” 

Apsara

Sky blue eyes glaring with intensity directed only to her. Azure locks flowed over their flawless features, too clear and smooth to belong to a person whose posture was accustomed to the battlefield. Light flashed under the melancholic moon. Her opponent summoned a wide array of spears, clashing against hers and sending white sparks flying like the fireworks she lit up at the summer festivals as a child.

The man standing before the spear user held a stand hand over his weapons, pointed spears emerging from his palms with ease. White gloves gripped over the pair of weapons, the color of glass reminiscent to the stairs and platforms in the Hall of El. Iridescent and emitting a blinding light, forcing Apsara to shield her eyes.  

Was this man really Ain? He wielded a white gold pendulum with gold trims at the edges. His white attire and demeanor reminded her more of a mercenary than the priest Bluhen was, charging towards Apsara with no mercy at his disposal. There was no hesitance, going for her blind spots if she failed to cover her bases and stand guard. Projecting one spear after another, it was a macabre dance of blades, furrowed brows deepening in time to his precise footwork. Right foot up, left foot back, holding his stance and unflinching when Apsara pulled back and forced her weight against his.

“Don’t let him heal!” Chevalier shouted.

A lotus flower formed as Apsara spun her spear in a figure eight, launching the ball of energy and shoving her opponent back. Knocking Richter off his feet, Apsara smacked the priest with the end of her spear. She leaped into the air, performing a somersault midair and diving in to slam her weight against the man. Air escaped from Richter, choking on his saliva and struggled to break free. Apsara missed him by a mere hair and charged with her spear in hand, audible gasps rippled through the cold air as she attacked.   

Richter gritted his teeth, anger flickered in his features. A forced serene facade masked over a fury reaching through his attacks. He fought a losing battle against four, but he persisted. Static surged from his palms and wind picked surrounded the man, drawing more blades and launching himself several meters into the air, turning his head to face his other opponents.

A tall Nasod dressed in white with a black helmet swung a chained sword, Oberon phase shifting and crossing blade with a heavy clang. Two drones floated midair, engaged in a transversal angle. Lasers blasted from the drones, spinning and converging energy aiming for their target.  

“Tell us what happened to Elsword,” Esencia talked over the clashing blades.

Richter breathed heavy breathes, shoving Oberson’s head down and using his knee to hit the lower jaw, pushing the Nasod servant away. He fired deliberate projectiles to Esencia’s drones, hitting and shifting them at the base.

Apsara squeaked and ducked from a laser pointing to where her head once was. That was a close call! The spear user hung her head and sweated bullets. She was glad Esencia was on their side, but having the Nasod Queen’s attacks directed back was a terrifying thought for the young woman. Her hair remained frizzled from proximity to the energy beam, sinking her body and crawling over to Esencia to avoid another laser.  

“Then you understand that he isn’t yours,” Richter spoke. A deep harsh echo carried in his voice, “Are you aware of the consequences for your actions?” 

“He’s not with us,” Chevalier said. He and Ishtar circled the priest, keeping distance in a guarded stance, gun blades and soul spears ready for sudden movement.   

“I wasn’t addressing you, Blue Demon.” Richter glared at the butler.

“How dare you talk to Ciel like that!” Ishtar pointed her soul spear at the priest, “What are you doing with a weapon you have no right to claim?”

Her wings wavered, a cyan blue membrane stretched over thin bone structures and beating the air with anger in the tiny demon’s features. Ishtar whined when her butler blocked her from lunging at Richter, fuming and crossing her arms.

“I apologize for that,” Chevalier said with equal iciness as the priest. “You must understand how important Elsword is to us. We just want to know how you came into possession of his sword.”  

“Is that what this is about?” Richter pulled out the greatsword from his belt and sighed, “Humans and demons alike show unnecessary concern over materialistic things that hold no value. This weapon will not bring him back.”

Apsara protested, “Please, it’s important to him! If you’re Ain, why are you fighting us? Aren’t you friends with Elsword? I’m sure he wouldn’t want this!”

Recognition sparked from Richter’s expression, anger? Fear? Emotions alternating with one another before he settled for indifference and narrowed his eyes, “Ms. Fox in White. No, Devi. ”

Bluhen had abilities that garnered wariness from Eun’s end, but he was a patient man and did not judge when she asked him to explain something in simpler terms. He had a child-like wonder in everything that made him gained stares when they visited towns. After Bluhen nearly ran the team bank dry because he discovered cinnamon rolls, Apsara decided he was harmless. Anyone who had a sweet tooth couldn’t be all that bad, could they?

This stranger who responded to the name Ain… He stole Knight’s sword, gave them crude nicknames, and treated them like they were the enemy. Why did Richter call her by that name? Apsara wanted to believe there was a reason behind Richter’s behavior, but little emotions were revealed when Esencia asked what happened to Knight.     

Be careful, Ara. A feminine voice whispered in the back of Apsara’s mind, I sense something about him. 

What is it, Eun? Apsara asked, The Dark El?

No. The fox spirit paused, High levels of energy resonates from him, more than Ain. Let me take over.

Apsara shook her head, He must know something about Elsword if he has his greatsword. 

Knight had to be nearby if his sword was found by someone else. There were others with Richter, their shapes unrecognizable in the shadows and concealed by the night. How many, she could not tell, but it was an impressive size, at least a dozen of them. Could they be humans the dark elves mentioned this morning?

Apsara quivered her lips, hard pressed in finding the positives in their situation. It felt like they were interrogating Richter instead of talking to an ally. Not unlike the shadows they have fought in Hamel and the Hall of El, Richter was averse to answering their questions, disdain was apparent in his brief and curt answers. But Richter was different. He held a will of his own and reason. Despite not drawing his weapons back, the priest had them lowered and was listening, even if reluctantly.     

“If you know anything about what happened to Elsword, tell us!” Apsara pleaded, “We haven’t seen him in two days and we don’t know where he went!”

“I don’t know any of you.” Richter said with an even tone, “And I’ve never met this Elsword of yours. Elsword is with you-”

“Which one?” Esencia asked.

Ishtar mused. “Having more than one Elsword makes this conversation confusing.”

“Where did you find the sword?” Chevalier asked, “If I may ask.”

“In the forest,” Richter replied. “You have my duplicate with you, but he failed to find it before me? Are you done interrogating?”

No use, Apsara lowered her head in defeat. If only Knight was here…maybe Richter would have listened. The redhead was good with words and preventing situations from escalating like Empire, but neither of the Sieghart siblings was present. What would Empire do if she was here? Would she smile and reassure Richter or put her foot down and lay down what needed to be accomplished to make the discussion work? Empire made talking to people look easier than it actually was!

“Ain had a lot on his mind,” Apsara clutched her hands around her spear. “I’m sure you do too!”    

“Your Elsword is not with me,” Richter tensed. “Where is Mr. Half-Nasod with no shirt?”

Rage Hearts? The mercenary escaped with the rest of the El Search Party because of the sudden appearance of their opposites. Were they really mirrors of themselves? From the few members Apsara had met, they were strong-willed, unwavering on their opinions and determined to retrieve Rune. It was true that Rune wasn’t their leader, but he was still Elsword, so maybe he could be helpful in helping them find Knight. 

If Knight wasn’t with Richter, where could he be? Was he lost in the forest somewhere surrounded by demons, waiting for them to find him? Empire tried contacting him through their communicators for hours, but no one picked up. Were they too late that something happened to him? Or was he taken somewhere far and away from where the connection between them has weakened?  

Knight had to be alive, she mumbled a prayer and pursed her lips. If something happened to him, Empire would be left with no family, just like her. Apsara couldn’t bare to see the knight captain suffer, not after everything they have gone together.  

Apsara breathed, “You’ll have to catch up with our friends if you want to see Raven.”

“Noted.” Richter vanished from the crowd encircling him, appearing behind Apsara, “Then I understand that I must take on those that defy the goddess.”

With projectile weapons materializing in his palms, energy surged as Richter leaped. Six spears encircled the priest, casting them to where her spine was. Apsara turned and raised her spear, but Chevalier beat her to it, shielding the attack with a cross-shaped gunblade larger than the butler. Ishtar launched herself into the air, soul spears forming at her fingertips to counteract Richter’s. The priest backed away to the sight of Esencia and Oberson joining the demon sovereign in the fight, back to back with the Nasod Queen giving orders to her servants.

“What is he doing?” Ishtar growled.

“I think we angered him,” Chevalier ushered her to stand behind his gunblade. “Get ready for cover!”   

Blue lines shone from above, a paradigm grid forming and crossing over in loops and lines into an array of magic circles. Raised in the air was Richter looking down and weapons materializing for the priest to grasp in his hands, more floating beside him. Spears and projective weapons showered down as the magic circles glowed.

Apsara twirled in a half-step, using her spear to leap away from the countless weapons crashing down her path, using her weight to pull herself from harm’s way. She nearly tripped over falling debris, scrambling to pull herself up and dodge a spear aiming for her foot. The earth shook in vibration to the intensity of their battle. Tucking her spear under her arms, Apsara curled her body into a tight ball and rolls away. She overheard Esencia throwing commands to Oberon and Ophelia to help Ishtar and Chevalier.        

Her feet barely touching the ground, Esencia hovered with a raised arm. “Heaven’s Fist!”

The Nasod queen grabbed her roughly by the shirt, lifting and pushing Apsara away. She landed behind Ishtar and Chevalier. Clothes torn from the fight and suffered a few cuts, but the demon and butler were otherwise unharmed. 

A Nasod arm raised in unison with Esencia, descending as she gave the command. The giant mechanical arm sent shockwaves as it crushed its sole target. Dust and debris clouded her vision and made Apsara gag, waving her hand and covering her mouth. Once things began to clear, she could make out the outline of a tall figure. 

A swordsman in a white hooded jacket trimmed with black fur and a tan complexion emerged from the settled dust. His blade was of a blue metallic, its handle grip wrapped in black ribbons held by his left arm. Gold eyes hardened when they formed eye contact.       

“Raven,” Esencia identified the man.

“Eve,” Blade lowered his blade. “I see you have found one of our comrades.”

Apsara gasped in seeing the older male. That look again; she was worried. It held the same disdain Richter gave her. Apsara wasn’t used to being at the receiving end of scorn and indifference. It took her a moment to recognize that Blade’s left jacket sleeve cut around the shoulder area to make room for a mechanical but sleeker Nasod arm. She had almost mistaken the arm for a human one with how smooth and fluid its movements were. Blade used his Nasod arm to wield his sword, a contrast to Rage.

Arm pulled over Blade’s shoulder, Richter limped in his walk. His hair lost its shine and returned to a darker shade of the sky. Cuts and bruises decorated his skin exposed to the elements.

“You took too long,” Richter said.

“We’re limited on members,” Blade replied. “Can you still walk?”

Richter nodded.

“Let’s go,” Blade pulled out a sphere from his jacket pocket and tossed it at their feet.

Mist evaporated, dense fog obscuring their vision. Apsara reached for where the two men once were, only to run her hands through nothing. Gone. Where have they disappeared? The young woman turned to see her friends following her. 

“They’ll be back,” Esencia said. “Raven is not one to run away.”

“Diplomacy seems to be out of the question,” Chevalier rubbed his head. “Not ones to talk, are they?”

“Did you see the way Ain talked to us?” Ishtar fumed. “He looked down at us like we were inferiors!”

We need to be cautious, Eun warned her. They could be planning something.

I know, Apsara thought with sadness. Would things have worked differently if she was more cautious in her words? 

Sensing her distress, Eun reassured the young woman. You did what you could. No time to regret what has been done. 

Apsara looked into the mist with sadness.   

Furious Blade

Blade rested his head against the base of a tree not too far to where they have encountered their friends’ counterparts. There were at least four of them when Blade found Richter cornered by them, weapons raised. Sweat patched over his forehead, the older male looked up to one of the Demon Realm’s numerous moons, clenching his Nasod arm into a tight fist and releasing. Wiggling his left digits left a tinge of an emotion Blade hasn’t felt since he last saw his father.  Wonder and amazement to how human-like the motions were, no longer claws gripping over his palm.

Calibrated to be sensitive to the slightest touch, it processed information from its owner as quickly as a natural one would, maybe faster. It was one of Dominator’s better inventions that didn’t involve lasers, although the scientist proclaimed he was more than happy to change that. Mentions of an auto-tracking rocket arm were the last straw where Blade had to put his foot down. Ultimate’s suggestions for spears wasn’t helping things either. The swordsman let out an audible sigh on his teammates’ lack of tact. Let him use his arm for its intended purpose!

“What were you doing fighting four people at once?” Anemos applied pressured over Richter’s open wounds with a cotton ball.

“They had Elsword,” Richter replied.

“You should have ran away or called for backup!” She snapped, “One of us could have come and helped!”

The priest did not protest but kept his head lowered. Lips visibly quivering, his shoulders shook as Richter let out shallow gasps from the short sprint they endured. It was a rare event for the celestial to use his feet to run rather than using external forces to propel himself off the ground. There were limited magical sources for Richter to rely on, forcing him into making pragmatic decisions in saving his energy for more immediate matters.

Blue hair drenched in sweat and red dirt, he reminded Blade of a demon plant minus the deadly neurotoxins. His skin flushed pink and had glassy eyes, blinking rapidly and mumbling prayers to an unseen being Blade had lost faith to years ago. Richter was strong, but his unbreaking loyalty reminded him of the comrades he once worked with, before Owen…

“And they didn’t let you see the brat?” Dominator looked up from his screens. “Who did you see?”

“Elsword wasn’t with them,” Blade frowned. 

Anemos and Dominator caught him up with the details of what happened when they came into contact with their counterparts. They caught Richter in possession of something that belonged to one of their friends. Pleads and excuses were lost amid the fighting and confusion. The swordsman rubbed his forehead in frustration when he caught sight of his alternate throwing Rune over their shoulder. Of course it had to be his counterpart, Blade looked up to see a dark sky. The universe seemed to enjoy pitting him against himself on more than one occasion. Hopefully, this Raven will be more open to reason than the previous ones.   

“Both of the Demons were there.” Richter pressed his hand over another cotton ball over his opened wound as Anemos wrapped a bandage over. His lips tightened into a straight line, “and Ms. Fox.”

Lights flickered out from Dynamo, holographic screens dissipated into thin lines and Dominator stopped typing. The scientist turned to Richter, mumbling to himself and biting his lower lip in anger. Dynamo twitched in unison with their master, blinking purple light that made it distracting for Blade to watch without closing his eyes.

“She’s with them?” Dominator cursed, “Of all luck to deal with her.”  

“Do we really have to fight her?” Anemos rested her hand over her brow. 

“What else will it be?” Dominator growled, “That’s what she does. Have you seen what they’ve done to this guy?”

Richter leveraged his arm to test for pain, pressing his finger over the bandage with a light tap and twisting his wrists for movement. Potions and elixirs sped up the healing process, but it didn’t ease the tension between them in seeing the injuries on their teammate. If Blade hasn’t found Richter earlier, how long would the priest last in a fight? Richter was easily outnumbered by well-coordinated fighters with years of experience. Blade didn’t expect anything less from their alternates. Their numbers and adaptability were what made them strong. Close bonds only made that more so.

“Elsword isn’t with them, so shouldn’t we reprioritize whether to fight them?” Richter asked. “It’s clear that their motive is to separate us from the others to reduce our number.”        

“We can’t ignore the possibility of her going after our friends,” Blade said. “Our fight at the very least will slow her down.”

“That’s a bleak outlook,” Anemos commented. “Have more faith in us.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust our efforts,” Blade rubbed his neck. “It’s our luck.”

It couldn’t be helped that they would have to confront their counterparts, but that didn’t make it any easier for Blade to accept without thinking of the possibilities. Another unavoidable fight, he thought with bitterness. It was going to be troublesome sorting things out, especially with himself. The last time Blade tried to reason with himself ended with ruffled tail feathers and a one sided fight. 

“Then what is our objective?” Richter asked.

“Slow down their progress,” Blade said. “Don’t let them catch up with the rest of their group. If you can take them down, do it. We don’t want to prolong a fight and waste our resources if it’s something that can be helped.”

Brutal words, but pragmatic in a situation such as theirs. They hardly had the luxury to adjust to their new environment before they encountered the other El Search Party. It was uncertain how long their alternates have stayed in the Demon Realm, but it was evident that they were more familiar with their environment from their strategic placement and movement. They were at a disadvantage going against a group that was more familiar with their surroundings than they were. 

“Why are you looking at me for answers?” Blade gripped his blade, his fingers trembling over the handle. 

Dominator scoffed, “you’re always bossing us around like we’re children.”

“So we leave as quickly as we come.” Anemos mused, “and what about Ara?”

Blade turned pale. Right… a strategy to combat the woman who shared Devi’s face. Luckily, the alternates wore different clothes, so they couldn’t mistake them as their own teammates, but it didn’t make fighting them any easier. Apsara was still a skilled fighter and would likely be as brutal as her counterpart if given a reason to be.   

“Ms. Fox-in-White is the most dangerous in close combat,” Richter said. “The Demons are more synchronized.”  

If Ultimate was here, Blade would have sent her to fight Apsara, but she was with Flame and Phantom. Splitting their party into smaller groups had the advantage of covering more ground, but it was important that there was at least one person with the ability or technology to detect Elsword. Dominator would be just as sufficient in keeping distance between himself and the martial artist. His drones could be meddlesome for close-range fighters.    

“That sounds like our friends all right.” Anemos adjusted her gloves. “Is there anything else we should know about who we’re fighting?” Anemos asked.

The priest glanced at Dominator to the side, hesitant in his answer. “Ms. Empress is with them.”

“The Queen?” Dominator drawled, hands clasped and fingers crossed. “Tell me more.”

Confused by the scientist’s sudden eagerness, Richter threw a quizzical look to Dominator.

“Three more Nasods were with her,” he reported. “One is tall and carries a sword, another uses projectiles, and there was a little one with her.”

The Nasod Scout? The appearance of the smaller Nasod flashed in Blade’s mind. Hoisted by claw-like appendages, it crawled on its fours like a crab and used its size to attack unexpected enemies. Esencia having control over multiple Nasods was new, but the return of the Nasod Scout was relieving news. At least not everything about their alternates was completely different.  

“They move on their own accord and wait for orders. They won’t fight unless she’s nearby,” the priest continued, “Ms. Empress has the most drastic change in how she fights.”

The description eerily resembled the Nasods under Adam’s command. They were weak, but their creator mass-produced them at an alarming rate. Ultimate didn’t have that ability, so Blade prayed that the same applied to this Eve. The swordsman was not as enthusiastic as Dominator about the possibility of fighting Nasods again.   

“Lu, Ciel, Ara, and Eve.” Anemos murmured, “And they work well together from what Ain told us. Who will go after Elsword in the meantime?”

“Eve said she’ll run scans for him and Elsword.” Blade said, “Lu and Ciel might be further from them, but they’ll be on the lookout as well.” 

“If this fight is too much for you, then allow me to take on the Queen.” Dominator grinned, “You can deal with the fox.”

Blade twitched at the transparent excuse. Using Esencia as an excuse to avoid fighting Apsara… No tact whatsoever, the older man covered his eyes with his Nasod hand. Although with the scientist’s extensive knowledge of Nasods, a fight against Esencia would reel positive results. They would be evenly matched because of Dominator’s drones and Nasods.   

“I oppose,” Richter raised his hand.

“You haven’t even listened to my perfect plan yet!” Dominator jabbed a finger at the blue-haired man, “Is it your life objective to disagree with every statement I make?”

A faint line curled at the corner of Richter’s lips, subtle but distinctive for the otherwise stoic priest.

Dominator groaned, “Can’t even complete a sentence without Mr. Holy-Art-Thou over here to rain on my parade!”

“Have you finally caught up on modern language, Mr. Ancient?” Richter taunted the man in white.

“Do I need to separate you two?” Anemos walked between the two men and turned to Dominator. “You can fight Eve, but don’t forget why we’re here.”

Whether it was the strange gleam in Anemos eyes - usually reserved when the El Search Party trailed off-track, or because of the unsettling aura the elf gave off when her patience was wearing thin, she was effective in maintaining peace in their group. She didn’t have the charisma Rune had or the sternness Blade established from years of being in the army, but she always seemed to know the right words. A simple nudge or phrase from her was all it took to get them back on track and focus on their goal.   

The scientist froze, blinking upon realization to who he was talking to. Dominator smiled and nodded, but a rare sign of timidness was there, not unlike one of a child caught red-handed with arms deep in the cookie jar. Blade snorted at the mental image and comparison.

Richter’s reaction was more subtle. There was less vanity in his expression, but it was hard to tell with the man who kept his emotions close to his chest.    

“If Mr. Ancient fights Ms. Empress, then I’ll take the Demons.” Richter said.

“Are we fighting them individually?” Anemos asked, “We’ll be spreading ourselves too thinly.”

“It will weaken them as well,” Richter disagreed. “They’re strong because they’re together.”  

“Wasn’t it the other you who ran off with the brat?” Dominator looked at the swordsman, chuckling to himself. “Almost didn't recognize the other you with all the white hair. It’s a shame we missed an opportunity to analyze a fascinating tool. The power readings Dynamo gave me are nothing like what I’ve seen.”

“We’re not fighting myself,” Blade said with curtness in his tone.

It wasn’t that he feared himself - Blade was past the point of being fearful after the mess they left behind in Elrianode, but it was irking to see a reflection of himself staring back at him. The same angular face painted with a tired expression, aged with years of fighting and traveling.  

It was a brief moment, no less than maybe five or six seconds, but Blade’s eyes fell over to the arm. Black as a crow, crimson streaks bled over his alternate’s arm. Gold tips painted over Rage’s claws; spikes ripped out from the shoulder and forearm. The arm looked more demonic than Nasod, pulsating and contrasting rhythmically to its host’s breathes. It was alive .

“I gave our friends information about what to do if they have to face me.” Blade said, “Our goal is to save Elsword, not fight our counterparts to the bone.”  

“Then I guess we have no choice but to follow your lead, huh, gramps?” Dominator cocked his head to the side with a sly grin.

Why was everyone insistent on giving him unnecessary nicknames? Each one was as ridiculous as the last, sometimes making no sense at all. Twenty-nine years was hardly old if he was comparing himself to Ultimate and Anemos, although one would think Richter was a century years old from how he talked.

“Do you really think this is our only option?” Anemos asked.

“I don’t know,” Blade admitted. “One of us just attacked them and are making demands they can’t give into. In their eyes, we’re the enemy and I might have to agree with them.”

The elf woman looked at him with sadness.

Blade knew he wasn’t wrong. Like many regretful decisions, there was no pulling back on what already happened. The swordsman wasn’t going to waste his time getting angry over Richter for initiating a fight with themselves. If Seris was still alive and was kidnapped instead of Rune, Blade would have done the same with worse repercussions. Unlike Richter, he wasn’t surrounded by good company when he was at his worse.   

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I think this fight will end differently than you anticipated.” Anemos giggled, “I’m sure Elsword will let the other Raven know what he thinks about our situation.”

He snorted. Rune was going to talk his kidnappers’ heads off until dawn broke if given the chance, but the imagery was enough to garner a faint smile from Blade.  

“Are we leaving?” Richter asked.

“Yes,” he pulled his blade out. “Let’s go.” 

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

Author Notes: As you may have noticed, it has been a while since I uploaded a new chapter.  Without going too much into detail about my life, my schedule has changed and I won't have a lot of time to work on fanfics.  In addition, I no longer play Elsword as much because of new interests and due to CP restrictions in the newer dungeons.  I will see what I can do to finish this fanfic, but future updates will come slower.  Thank you for your patience and for all of your support!

[tindang]

Snapchatting on my way to Boston Logan.

4/23/20 - Day Break

Last Saturday, from 2 to 5am, I drove from Clearwater to Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood Airport. Work wanted me back in Boston. They’re expecting everyone to be at their desks, sipping on coffee, making small talk, rubbing their aching backs within two weeks. I doubt it’ll happen, but I like having a job during this pandemic and want to keep it.

The drive was mesmerizing. Cruising at 80mph, I passed by St. Petersburg, then Sarasota, Fort Myers, and North Naples, before jetting cross-state towards the Eastern seaboard. It was dark driving through inner Florida; the kind of darkness in which I couldn’t help but imagine running out of gas and being stranded in oblivion, lost to posterity, or swerving and somersaulting down a hill to avoid a peripheral deer. Both thoughts sent shivers. Does Florida even have deers?

I started reading Vietnamese with my mom again while I was home and have continued it thus far back in Boston. Yesterday, we read about Sunita Devi and her 4 children. Part of India’s working class, the family lived off of the $73/month Sunita made cleaning homes. One can imagine what has happened to the family in this era of Covid-19. I pray for them and hope that Modi steps up the government’s assistance programs so that India’s vulnerable may survive the coming weeks.

In the U.S., SARS-CoV-2 has invigorated racism against Asian Americans. David S. Jones, a professor at the Department of the History of Science at Harvard, suggests that this violence is part and parcel to how societies make sense of epidemics. In the New England Journal of Medicine, Jones writes:

“One dramatic aspect of epidemic response is the desire to assign responsibility. From Jews in medieval Europe to meat mongers in Chinese markets, someone is always blamed.”

This remark gives bearing to the intractable nature of social division in times of crisis. It begs us to imagine a different history, one in which all countries, all peoples, can come together, hold hands, and sit down to tackle the problem as one. Is this history possible? I think that Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient offers a compelling response. The story highlights four lives--Hana, Caravaggio, Kip, and Almásy--housed under the same crumbling roof of the Villa San Girolamo. Each character is damaged in some way as a result of a war that had just ended--Hana, the loss of her father; Caravaggio, the loss of his thumbs; and Kip, the loss of Lord Suffolk. In a time of repatriation, negotiation, and reconstruction, their existence together represents not only an attempt at healing but also an experiment in reaching past race/nationality to create a new pluralistic identity. 

Such an identity would have the capacity to engineer a world free from racial violence. In the novel, this world is made possible through a kind of place-making that works to dissolve and precipitate constructs of identity. The Villa, for example, functions as a receptacle for “the remnants of war societies” (92). Pockmarked, soiled, emptied, and burnt to ruin, with “little demarcation between house and landscape”, the Villa is open, literally, to any one who wishes to store their fractured selves (43). It’s a privileged space made for innovation, for recreating oneself anew. In this way, the Villa acts as a simulacrum of the desert, which Ondaatje invokes to describe a place outside of nation where one can chart new paths of being. Indeed, for Almásy, the desert was where he not only “became nationless” (138) but where he could be “his own invention” (246).  

While place dictates the situational circumstance through which identity is reformed, it is the love, friendship, and community within the Villa that provides the energy for this process to occur. Manav Ratti notes in The Postsecular Imagination that Odaantje makes use of aesthetic tropes to frame such relations between his characters. Ratti states, “the aesthetic imagining of another world, rich in pleasant sights, smells, sounds--enables the affirmation of friendship and affect, especially between individuals with marked differences.” Aestheticization, which describes the attachment of value to the sensory experience of objects or events (Sharman 178), is thus a catalyst for tolerance and understanding between the Villa’s inhabitants who differ by race and nationality. Ratti points to one passage that instrumentalizes this use of aestheticization; Almásy states:

“It is assumed that the face of David is a portrait of the youthful Caravaggio and the head of Goliath is a portrait of him as an older man, how he looked when he did the painting. Youth judging age at the end of its outstretched hand. The judging of one’s mortality. I think when I see him [Kip] at the foot of my bed that Kip is my David” (116)

Here--and I admit that I am paraphrasing Ratti’s line of thinking--Almásy calls forth the image of David with the Head of Goliath to establish some basis of commonality between Kip and himself. Hence, this passage serves to underscore a relationship between two characters who share few lines of common history. 

Though Ondaatje spends considerable time building up this utopia-on-a-hill, it comes quickly undone in the wake of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Upon learning of these incidents, Kip confronts Almásy and asks, “How did you fool us into this?” (283). In this encounter, Kip rejects the life he’s led for the last few years, and “[leaves] the three of them [Hana, Caravaggio, Almásy] to their world” (286). “Their” world is one without distinction, whereas “ours” consists of lines that separate Japan from America, India from England, of nation, citizenship, and the other. I’m not sure whether, with this ending, Ondaatje hints at the impossibility of different people coming together to radically effect change, but he certainly leaves us with a schema for imagining this alternate reality.

I want to stop writing because I have to study but it is interesting to see the parallels and dissimilarities between The English Patient and Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese. The latter tells of twins, Marion and Shiva, who grow up in post-World War II Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, born to an Indian nun who dies giving birth and an English doctor who abandons them at birth. Like the Villa San Girolamo, Missing Hospital, where much of the story takes place, is situated at the end of the same war and exists as a privileged space; descriptively, it sits upon a “verdant rise” and was built to resemble “Eden before the Fall”; functionally, it serves a plurality of local residents and caters to members of the Emperor’s family and other high-ranking government officials. However, unlike the Villa, Missing experiences bouts of violence that stem from political conflict. This is where Verghese’s narrative departs from that of Ondaatje’s. Cutting for Stone is as much about love, friendship, and community as it is about the real-life violence that holds sway over these relations; it is politics that poisons Marion’s love for Genet, and it is the political economy that harms the patients that Marion attends to during his time in America.

In short, this story too does not offer us much hope for a united front against Covid-19 or any future cataclysm. If anything it strays further from this prospect. Verghese relays this message early in the text; Marion, who writes this story as the omniscient narrator, claims:

“Born in Africa, living in exile in America, then returning at last to Africa, I am proof that geography is destiny. Destiny has brought me back to the precise coordinates of my birth, to the very same operating theater where I was born” (10)

Without 600-pages of context, we are left blind to the meaning behind these words. But, from the outset, we are introduced to the fatalism that underlies Marion’s recollection of history. This kind of fatalism that embeds itself within a geography considers global unity a childish ideal. From here I ask, what is the alternative? Perhaps Verghese addresses this in the text, somewhere, but for now I am tired and do not want to write anymore. 

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 10

Chapter 10 : If Only

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6   🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

Well every single time I see you I start to feel this way It makes me wonder if I am ever gonna feel this way again. Then I hear myself reply "You've got to hold it in" this time tonight There's a feeling screaming in the back of my head Saying it over and over

If only I had the guts to feel this way if only you'd look at me and want to stay if only I’d take you in my arms and say That I won't go cuz I need you

click here to be on the update list

                                         What woke me up the next day is the sound of someone walking quickly but gently around the room. I felt a shiver cross my whole body, realizing I didn't have any blanket over me. I reached for one and pulled it over me, ready to fall asleep, when I remembered my evening. I had spent a good part of the evening locked in a bathroom with Niall, he drove me and Louis home, we lied down in the same bed but most of all, he had kissed me. I felt my heart flutter as I held my breath, living over the kiss in my head. His body was warm, just like his lips, and I whimpered low as the moment played over and over in my head.

"Shit!" someone whispered after a light sound.

It made me frown and I forced myself to wake up and sit in bed, my palm pressing and rubbing my tired eyes. Niall had kissed me, it was true, but he had also ran away right after, and that meant I had no idea what was going on in his mind, or what I could expect from him this morning. His mood swings, or whatever it was, were driving me insane.

"Niall?"

He turned to me suddenly, his eyes getting slightly bigger when he noticed I was awake, and held his breath. His eyes roamed on me and I immediately felt self-conscious. I probably looked like an idiot, but at the same time, it wasn't the first time he was seeing me in the morning.

"Hey uhm, go back to bed, I didn't want to wake you up." he let out low but a bit nervously. "I just needed to get changed and pick my stuff, I have somewhere to be."

I pressed my lips together, blinking a few times until I was completely awake, and started playing with my fingers.

"Niall, about last night-"

He kept rummaging through his stuff without looking at me. "Look, Devon." he cut me with a sigh. "I don't really have time to deal with that right now."

The first thing that hit me was how hurt I was that he hadn't called me 'Devie', the way he always does. I knew it was mostly to tease me, but it actually grew on me and I ended up liking it. No one else had ever nicknamed me like that before.

"What do you mean, 'deal with it'?"

"I mean I don't have time to talk, okay?" he grabbed his back pack, eyeing his guitar and finally sighing again. "I'll be back late. Or not at all. Hope you have a nice day."

My eyes followed him as he walked until the door, opening it and glancing back at me before leaving. The door closed behind him and that's when I realized I was holding my breath. I emptied my lungs and inhaled again before closing my eyes and sighing. It could have been worse. At least, he had acknowledged me. He had even talked to me, and looked at me, which were two things he didn't really do during the low moments of his mood swings, so that was something, right?

I brought my hand to my mouth, running two of my fingertips on my bottom lip, remembering when he kissed me once again. I never thought a simple kiss could obsess me that much but it did. There was something about Niall that I needed, something that I lusted, something that I wanted... and I couldn't explain it. But I had to face reality, even if admitting it, even to myself, seemed totally horrible. I liked Niall. I really really liked Niall. For the most part, he was the opposite of my ex boyfriend, at least when he was in a good mood, and I chuckled low when I realized it was probably his best quality, which obviously didn't mean that I liked when he'd ignore me. In fact, that was something I really hated, and that reminded me of my ex boyfriend, unfortunately. I had been played so much before and I had promised myself no one would ever use me that way again. There must have been something extremely wrong with me if the men around me would ignore me whenever they didn't feel like it, right? I was not a toy to play with, and I deserved so much better... didn't I?

I sighed again and my eyes fluttered open. Of course, Niall didn't owe me anything, and the fact that I desperately wanted him in my life was going to remain a secret. I just wished he wouldn't pretend nothing had happened, because something had, and clearly, it had meant something. It was not alcohol, since neither of us really drank, and that kiss couldn't be excused by an intoxication. Thinking about it made me feel ecstatic and I cleared my throat, trying to push the thought away.

All the thoughts, questions and memories in my mind kept getting mixed together, confusing me even more. I finally decided to take a quick shower and dress up before leaving my room. I had nothing to do and nowhere to go but I ended up walking around without a specific destination. It was no surprise when I ended up in front of my unfinished painting. I stared at it for a while, blinking as I focused on the navy blue slowly turning into black on my canvas, before finally sitting in front of it. I felt something twist in my stomach at all the feelings reaching me as I looked at my own painting and the pain inside me was sharper than a knife. To me, what was on this canvas was so obvious that I felt naked and somehow, it made me think about Niall and when I saw him write a song on the piano. I had seen him vulnerable in a way too when I spied on him as he composed a song, and even if I still felt guilty about it, it made me see a side of him that I probably would have never seen in any other circumstances. I felt like I connected with him because of that and as my eyes roamed on my panting, I realized perhaps he couldn't connect with me the same way. After all, I hadn't opened up to him and he didn't see any of my art either.

I sat in front of my half-done painting and without thinking, I grabbing my brush and started adding colors. I had done a few nature paintings before, and I did enjoy the techniques and dimensions, but throwing paint at my canvas depending on how I felt had always been my favorite form of art, if only because it was abstract and I didn't have to follow many instructions except those my guts and heart were telling me.

I ended up straining my pants and shirt but it didn't matter. After half an hour, I was done, and my lips parted when I realized I had never worked so fast before. I stared at my creation, immediately hating it even if I knew it would pass, and I closed my eyes. I breathed in an out for about a minute and finally opened my eyes again. My painting was still there and my heart twisted in my chest. It surprised me because I was pretty sure I had thrown all of it on that fucking canvas.

I got up and licked my lips, breathing in deeply and taking a step back. I decided to leave it there and perhaps, at some point, I could show it to Niall. Maybe I would have the guts to show him all the feelings inside me, all the things I had gone through, all the betrayal, rejection and fake love I had received before even knowing him... but it wouldn't be today.

I finally turned around and left, walking very quickly and randomly in the halls. I realized it was not so random when I heard the notes on a piano and a voice that I could recognize anywhere now, especially because it always brought a special kind of pain in my chest.

"Dear Patience If I pour my heart out, can you keep a promise? 'Cause the situation Is like a mountain that's been weighing on my conscience If I'm being honest"

I held my breath and only pushed the air out of my lungs when the notes and the voice stopped. I moved closer to the door and peaked inside, my heart jumping at the sight of Niall, scribbling in a notebook. Once again, he was sitting in front of his piano and when he brought his fingers back over the keys, I held my breath again.

"Hey, can you show your face? Can you see that I'm anxious? Can you hear what I'm saying, saying? Hey, 'cause I fall too fast And I go down blazing Can you hear what I'm saying?"

My eyes fluttered close and I pressed my lips together, the sound of the notes invading me as his voice made my whole body throb. I leaned against the wall but tripped on my feet, letting out a curse word. The piano and the voice stopped at the same time and quickly, I turned around and left. I felt like my heart was about to explode in my chest when I heard a "Hey!" coming from behind. I brought my shoulders up and closer to my cheeks but didn't slow down until he reached me. His hand touched my upper arm gently and swiftly, I turned around, coming face to face with Niall.

"Devie, hey."

My lips curled slightly at the nickname and I licked my lips. "S-Sorry Niall, I didn't want to spy, I just-"

"What are you doing here, Devie?" he cut me, frowning at me as he put his hands on his hips, staring down at me. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing I just, I felt like painting." I explained, shrugging a shoulder. "So I painted. And then I heard a piano and a voice. And it was you. That's all."

"Pretty sure the painting class isn't around here." he pointed out, making me blink a few times.

I started playing with my fingers nervously and swallowed. "I know, I just walked around and ended here."

I glanced around us, noticing there was literally no one around. Everyone was probably doing something else with their sunday, something like relaxing, spending time with friends, or any other hobby normal people have.

"Okay." he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and making me even more anxious.

"I thought there would be like ten of you, singing random songs together whenever you didn't have class." I joked with a chuckle, making him smile.

"This is not a Disney movie, you know." he pointed out, smiling more. "There's a lot of heavy curse words and throwing notebooks and pens around the room violently."

This time, I laughed and shook my head as he took a step closer, letting his arms fall on each sides of him. He frowned a bit and bent down slightly to look at me before bringing one of his hands up again. My heart threatened to get out of my chest when his face was only a few inches away from mine and I couldn't help but think he was about to kiss me again. Instead, I felt my eyes flutter as he brought his thumb right under my eye, on my cheekbone.

"You're got some blue paint here." he whispered before wiping it slowly.

I felt disappointed that I couldn't feel his lips on mine again, but the way he had touched me made me feel a bit dizzy and my lips parted.

"Thank you." I breathed out, staring at him.

"Don't thank me." he chuckled. " I think I made it worse."

I chuckled too and licked my lips before pressing them together. "Look, Niall, about last night."

"Dev, I need to go, okay? I'll see you soon."

"Wait, Niall!" I let out, taking a step closer as he took one back. "I just-"

"Sorry!"

He turned around and started jogging back to where he came from and I sighed a bit too loud. The truth was, I had no idea what I was going to tell him. That I liked the kiss? That I wanted to kiss him again, and maybe even more? That I actually liked him? That simple thought was ridiculous, no... I would have probably ended up telling him that it was ok, that I knew he regretted it, and that we could pretend it never happened. It was not what I felt, but what else could I tell him?

I could have just gone back to talk to him. After all, I knew exactly where he was and what he was doing, but I decided against it. I couldn't force him to talk to me and maybe it was better this way.

I stood motionless just staring in front of me for a while, until I heard my phone. I grabbed it from my pocket, almost dropping it, and noticed all the blue and black paint on my hands. Now I knew how some of it had ended up on my cheek. I wouldn't admit it out loud, but I was happy it did, if only to have this interaction with Niall.

'Dinner. With me. Tonight.'

I smiled fondly at my phone and quickly typed a reply to Louis.

'How about now? I'm starving.'

He just replied with a thumb up emoji and I walked back to my room, smiling when I saw Louis leaned against my door, hands in his pockets and ankles crossed.

"Hey you!" I just said when I stopped in front of him. "How's your head today?

"Bad. My whole body hurts. It feels like I was ran over by a truck. How are you?"

"I didn't really drink." I admitted with a shrug. "You know, in case you needed someone to bring you back home."

"You needed to be sober to ask Niall for a ride?" he asked with a frown, a smirk gracing his lips.

I raised my nose in a grimace and groaned low, making him laugh. He moved closer and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into a hug. His hoodie was soft and warm and I just closed my eyes, inhaling deeply his scent. It reminded me of how good Niall smelled last night, in my bed, and I felt my heart jump in my chest. I recognized this feeling, and I hated this feeling.

"So, how about chinese food?"

----

"Wait, he kissed you?"

We had decided to eat in his room, sitting on the floor, and I thought we would put a movie on but we just ended up talking together. I loved talking with Louis, he was pretty much my only friend here anyway. Hell, he was probably the only friend I had in the whole wide world.

"Mmhm, but then you were sick and he brought you back to your room and spent the night with you." I explained, my eyes locked on the noodles in my bowl at I moved my spoon in it.

Letting all that out was embarrassing but at the same time, I felt like Louis was the only one I could share this with. I was also extremely confused by Niall's behavior and by mine, too. What was I doing exactly? Why did I want to get closer to Niall so bad and why did it matter if he was nice to me or not?

"Ouch, sorry about that." he grimaced before I shrugged. It was not Louis' fault and I would never blame him for it. "Wow, I can't believe he kissed you." Louis added in a low tone before putting way too many noodles in his mouth and chewing. "Never thought he'd make a move so early."

"What?" I asked as my heart skipped a few beats. "Why do you say that?"

He stopped chewing and his eyes met mine as I remained motionless, my lips slightly parted. Did I really hear what I thought I heard?

"Dev, do I have to state the obvious?" he asked, raising his eyebrows as I frowned. "Niall likes you!" he added a bit louder before chuckling. "He's liked you since the first day he met you!"

My frown turned into a smile and I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. "Yea, sure, of course." I let out sarcastically, putting my bowl away and leaning against his bed. "Niall Horan likes me."

The thought was so ridiculous that I laughed a bit more and shook my head.

"He does."

"He's been an ass to me since day one. He's rude to me or ignores me. Just because he kissed me one time doesn't mean he actually has feelings for me."

Louis kept quiet and when I turned my head to look at him, he was staring at me with a smirk on his face, noodles in his fork up in mid-air.

"What?"

"You like him." he pointed out, making me suddenly embarrassed as I frowned again.

"No."

"You fookin' like him!" he repeated, bursting into laughter. "You should see your face!"

"Shut up!"

Louis pushed my upper arm slightly, making me tilt slightly as I groaned. I hated that he said that because I hadn't admitted that to myself just yet. Perhaps, the fact that I liked Niall was very obvious but I just hoped it was not. I didn't even know how to deal with that new feeling and I certainly didn't want anyone to try and analyze how I felt.

"You like him!" he added, making me groan low again before I turned and pushed him gently at my turn.

The cup of noodles slipped out of his hand and ended on my thighs. I let out a short yell and held my breath as the warm liquid soaked my pants and the bottom of my shirt.

"Fuck! I'm sorry!" Louis let out before chuckling again. "Sorry, this is way too funny!"

He got up as I remained still, trying not to make it worse. After a few seconds, he handed me a hoodie and I just stared at it. What would Niall say if I walked back to our room wearing Louis' hoodie? I knew it shouldn't bother me but Niall seemed to get pissed whenever I said something about Louis and I felt like it would make things worse between us.

"Thanks Louis, but I'll just go get changed." I just said, getting up, feeling how drenched my pants were. "It's not like my room was very far."

"Okay, I'll pick a movie while waiting for you, if you want."

"Mmhm, good idea."

I walked out of his room and reached mine with only a few steps and without thinking, I turned the knob and opened the door. Niall was there, completely naked, laying on top of the brunette I remember seeing at the party, the one he had his arm around. They both stopped what they were doing when they noticed me and Niall turned his head to look at me. I suddenly felt nauseous and dazed, so much that I had to hold the knob harder and lean my other hand on the door frame.

I could swear I saw guilt in Niall's eyes but I was probably just dreaming.  I blinked a few times, swallowing the tears that threatened to come out. It was so tough to do that it started physically hurting and I just cleared my throat.

"Sorry, I just..."

"Why don't you just get the fuck out?" I heard the brunette yell.

I didn't send her a glance. I just kept looking at Niall, feeling my heart twist so hard in my chest I could swear it had completely broke, and the worse was that he stared back. He was deep inside an other girl and his eyes were on me, and all I could think about was that I hoped my pain was not showing on my face, because I didn't want him to know that I was fucking hurt by the fact that he was shagging an other girl after kissing me less than 24 hours before.

Like an idiot, I waited. I waited for what seemed like an hour, but was probably just about a minute. I waited for him to apologize. I waited for him to tell me it meant nothing, and that it was a mistake. But I waited in vain because after a while, his gaze just dropped, and I decided that I had seen enough. I had waited enough. I didn't know what I was expecting anyway.

"Fuck you."

My voice was low but firm and with those words, I took a step back and closed the door gently.

--

REQUEST

[catty-words]

it's me again! i haven't really seen any analysis/meta/discussion abt NHIE (i'm pretty new to the fandom) and i really liked your last answer to my q so i was wondering if u had any thoughts on ben/devi as a relationship (not necessarily just the romantic aspect of it but like as a whole) and paxton\devi as a relationship as well and like ur thoughts on all that. sorry if this is werid!

The short version? I love them both and find it really cool that season one gives both relationships a complete arc. As for the long version…

Devi/Paxton: Popular guy gradually comes to appreciate all nerdy girl has to offer is a cute trope, right? Right. Of course, the thing I love the most about it in Never Have I Ever is that behind that cuteness is a lot of dysfunction. Devi chooses to pin all her post-trauma hopes and dreams on Paxton not only because his image holds enough power over the school to overshadow her stint in a wheelchair, but also because he has no idea who she is. He walks past her without seeing her at his swim meet. He’s clean across the parking lot and has not even the tiniest inkling of an idea that he’s about to distract Devi from her trauma long enough to get her walking again. He doesn’t remember that she sits behind him in history class.

And that appeals to Devi because, at the beginning of the season, she’s not looking for intimacy or true connection with Paxton. She’s looking for the image of normalcy. She’s looking to rebrand. So when Dr. Ryan convinces her that getting a boyfriend, any boyfriend, is not the way to do it, Devi—not wanting to completely give up her plan and fueled by Ben’s recent exacerbation of her insecurities—swerves right past the true point of Dr. Ryan’s words to set her sights on having sex.

I adore the way the first season is driven entirely by Devi’s unabashed horniness. She thinks Paxton’s hot and gets to openly gaze at him. She has wholesome ‘I know nothing about sex other than I want this shirtless boy in my bed’ sex dreams. And I adore the way that, on the flip side of that very straightforward and relatable feeling, is how focusing exclusively on her desire for Paxton is shown to cause a lot of her problems. She both gets to indulge her fantasy and get so lost in it, it becomes actively harmful to her life.

Meanwhile, on Paxton’s side of things, we get to see him become very quickly interested in intimacy and true connection. When it becomes clear that Devi’s not actually able to indulge in casual sex—because as much as she might not be looking for true intimacy, she sure cannot bring herself to relax into the surface intimacies hooking up requires—Paxton draws the line for her (no, we shouldn’t keep trying to meet in my garage) but continues to seek out her friendship. Shortly after calling off their attempts to hookup, he chooses her to be in his group for a class project. He’s excited to see Devi show up for Trent’s party. He asks her what Ganesh Puja means to her. Moreover, he opens up a very vulnerable side of himself to her in his relationship with Rebecca.

So, yeah, there’s an obvious imbalance of power in the relationship, and it’s actually not weighted in Paxton’s favor as the trope would initially have you believe. Paxton falls for Devi’s boldness and her YOLO approach to living. He cares about her well-being, as demonstrated by him asking if she’s okay post-pool fall. For Devi, on the other hand, it’s not especially clear whether she realizes just how much she keeps looking at Paxton and seeing only her fantasy, only what he can offer her, instead of the hints of a real person with his own shit to deal with he keeps trying to give her. Look no further than the narration after their kiss—“She just snagged her first kiss from a teenage Adonis. As far as Devi’s concerned, that car ride just solved all her problems.” By the eleventh hour of the season, Paxton is well and truly interested in building a relationship with Devi, while Devi’s excited for their kiss not because Paxton has shown that he cares about her. She’s excited because what she’d wanted this whole time—the image boost of being with him—is well within her reach.

Now, it probably sounds like I think Devi’s callous for this, but not so!! I think it’s impressive, the way the season manages to clearly show Devi’s motivations as sympathetic while also refusing to fully endorse her actions. She’s for sure using Paxton, and it’s not an especially good look. But her desperate desire to be seen as normal—to be talked about for reasons of her choosing and not because life decided to knock her out with some serious shit for a while there—is so, so heartbreakingly accessible to me. Wanting to control your own narrative is a fascinating theme for a fictional character to explore. And the packaging this theme comes in—Devi’s witticisms and Devi’s yearning to have more time with her dad—is charming as hell, is human and heart-wrenching. I love Devi with all my heart. So I don’t dislike her for using Paxton. Also, I love Devi with all my heart, so I can totally relate to the way Paxton falls for her.

Devi/Ben: Rivals to…an undefined something else. Not as cutesy of a trope, which works perfectly because Devi and Ben—though they certainly have their moments that make me squeal—are not cute with each other. Their relationship is about challenge, about being held accountable because messing up is grounds for mockery. And with that accountability and that constant attention paid—I mean, even the point I made earlier, about Ben’s “unfuckable nerd” comment being present in Devi’s mind when she decides to ask Paxton if he wants to have sex, is proof of the way Devi and Ben constantly exert an influence on each other—comes unexpected vulnerability and intimacy.

Which, again, Devi is not looking for. But unlike with Paxton, Devi doesn’t have unrealistic expectations of her dynamic with Ben to get in the way when actual intimacy starts to develop, and therefore she has no readily accessible place to hide. For this reason, she actually ends up leaning on Ben a lot, leaning into the growing compassion between them, and accidentally stumbles into some mortifying ordeal of being known shit. All throughout season one, Devi is honest with Ben without being cornered into that honesty. He reads her mood in the second episode and surmises that her plan to “get railed” didn’t go well, and she lets him offer his Ben-flavored wisdom when just a couple minutes before, she made the choice to mislead her best friends. Ben is the first person she tells about not actually having sex with Paxton, where she has to be put on the spot by Eleanor’s mom to actually make the confession to Eleanor and Fabiola. She asks Ben if she can move in with him and spends a lot of the final episode talking out her feelings about her fight with Nalini and saying goodbye to her dad with him.

So yeah, there’s certainly an imbalance in their relationship, too. Devi leans more heavily on Ben than he gets to on her. Of course, she does have a lot more going on in her life than Ben does. Plus, this imbalance is not quite as insurmountable as the stuff with Paxton. Navigating it won’t be as big an obstacle. As it is, Devi gives Ben the sympathetic ear he needs on more than one occasion—in the kitchen in episode six and at the party in episode eight. He may have to specifically ask for her to shut up and listen in episode six—“I’m trying to be vulnerable here!”—but I think that’s more proof that they’re accidentally really well-suited for each other because of the way their rivalry has built accountability. Stop being a dick for a second, I have something important to share with you. It’s a parallel sense of isolation and image-contentiousness you’re battling. Doesn’t that make the burden of feeling these things just a little bit lighter?

Triangulation: In summation—Paxton kisses Devi to show her that he cares, that he’s not done with her, and she totally misses that in favor of idolizing the relationship they don’t fully have. Devi kisses Ben because he showed her he cares—he stayed!—and she wanted him to know she got the message. Which means, next season, Devi gets to make a choice between something she spent all of season one wanting and something she hadn’t at all expected to want. But, in either case, she gets to explore a relationship with a boy who cares deeply about her—which makes me really excited for her because, you guessed it! I love Devi with all my heart.