#I will say that Shadow’s a little bit more… emotional in this one. aim trying VERY hard to not spoil😂
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welcome-to-green-hills · 2 months ago
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question
did you get spoiled with like a bunch of leaks that almost reveal everything that’s going on in the third movie
or…?
cause if you did that must’ve been a little frustrating not wanting to be spoiled
Or maybe you wanted to get spolied
Basically are you ok with the spoilers you got from the leaks?
Hello, my dear!❤️✨
Great question. For me, it was a semi-purposeful find. This was a round the time when Paramount had their security breach happen and all of the upcoming movies/shows were leaked online. I checked to make sure that the “leaks” online were ones that aligned with information that I’ve shared here and through passing.
Turns out that it was real. That, and some images that were leaked online are already on IMBd’s website for the third film. (I’d share the leak from a couple of months ago online if I didn’t think that the watermark would trigger a Tumblr violation).
With everything that I’ve seen about the movie, characters, and story, yes I’m happy. I’m sure that there will be a few nitpicks, but hey. Everyone’s got nitpicks. I do, however, think that there will be… umm… some very vocal fans about a thing or two. Overall, I definitely think that many people might like this more than the first two.
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flagellant · 1 year ago
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I remember you once giving an EXCELLENT explanation of how magic “Doesn’t Exist but is Real” and how that kind of contradiction and reconciling it is so powerful?
Whenever you feel like answering this could you restate those concepts? I am working on actually thinking about my Practice and it’s Methods more lately and I feel that I highly agree with that sentiment you gave, but Tumblr’s search sucks.
I think I’m just now understanding a lot of that much more than when it was first said so I’d like to compare when you’re able to restate it
Religion isn't unscientific at its core. I think that's how I might phrase the contradiction these days: the idea that religion is fundamentally not unscientific at its core. Whatever else you can say about it.
Religion is fundamentally magical thinking, though, or at least often incorporates magical thinking. Religion is a sort of magic, also, after all--organized or unorganized, it is belief in something else. Something unexplainable. The idea that there is something you cannot see or cannot understand, but that this something matters to you, to your world.
And looking back, we see religion form again and again, in vacuums and when cultures meet and share and intermingle or oppose. Studying history at the end of the day will always require at least a little bit of studying religion with it. It is omnipresent--for better and for worse--in the way that it affects us, changes how we think, influences how we behave, structures the societies we live in.
Humans are illogical creatures, made of emotions and subjective dread. Magical thinking is fundamentally illogical. It is an attempt to find and understand reason in darkness, to comprehend the things we only see in the peripheries of our visions--but not always. Only often.
Because just as much as religion is magical and illogical, it was often borne out of our craving for understanding, for logic or explanation. We see a rainbow in the sky and we do not know where it comes from, or why we can never seem to reach it, so we try and find a logical explanation for this apparent impossible thing. The answer is magic--fairies, gods, witches. Or perhaps we look at the catastrophe of a storm, look at the all-encompassing wreckage of our homes, and we need to find a reason why this could happen to us. This couldn't be an accident, it has to be by design, because if it happened for a reason, we can understand it; we can give ourselves, if only slightly, the illusion of control. We propitiate an angry god, or we find someone who we have decided isn't like us and blame them for it.
Because the thing is, as much as we are creatures of illogic, we are terrified of it. It becomes existential rather quickly--the idea that all of this is for nothing, for random accidents, that you or your community isn't special or noteworthy or safe? The idea that your pain is shapeless and your terror is aimed at nothing at all? That's hard to imagine, let alone to find comfort in. Gods give a shape to the suffering. The invention of them is one which lets us take the illogical thinking and turn it against illogical thinking. Yes, it is unreasonable. No, it doesn't make sense. It is emphatically unempirical and there will likely never be any concrete proof of any religion's magical thinking being definitively confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt as True.
But it isn't unscientific. It was borne out of the same reason as science, the desire to understand and comprehend. It went only in a different direction than scientific thought did.
The space between science and religion is the difference between what exists and what is real. We walk along paths of trying to understand the world around or within us, and the paths in between those two points is where magic can be found. Neither existing nor unreal.
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the-flys-buzz · 3 months ago
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ANOTHER LYRIC DISSECTION 💔💔💔
“Floral sheets on long-given-up ghost, haunt my bedroom at night and say ‘Let’s get you home.’”
the ‘long-given-up ghosts’ line is william referring to his birth parents and how he left them behind in favor of traveling different universes. the haunt part is talking about how he still thinks of them with some sense of guilt! he probably sees the ‘lets get you home’ bit as them (his birth parents) telling him that.
“But come and braille-palm-read and hold my hand, see my reason and ‘Goodbye cruel world.’”
sounds odd, but i see this line as william try to explain what is emotions are like. i dont know why it just makes sense to me. likely him just rambling to steven about random things his brain says sometimes.
“And oh my god, what’s wrong with me?”
oh this one is easy. exactly what it sounds like. william asks himself this sometimes after he does something impulsive that he didnt mean to do. probably a lot after he snaps at steven.
“I’d rather stay asleep than never see you wake up next to me.”
this one is taken less literally. moreso in the sense that william would rather hide in his steven mindset than see steven whenever hes acting like abel, scott, etc.
“To incubate the shadows you can’t stitch back to your soles.”
wah!!!! william reminiscing on the actual good memories he has from his early childhood and realizing he cant get those moments back with his old family. hence, why he grips onto steven, jake, and his siblings so hard.
“And you seemed fine just a few days ago.”
i see this as steven talking to william actually. he has mentioned how william can go from happy and energetic to more stern and upset when hes using the phonehead form.
“Well, now you swear in your prayers telling time ‘Promise I’ll never have fun again, if you’d stop flying,’ but then you start crying ‘Never mind, you win.’”
steven probably bringing up what william says when hes a phonehead himself. how he'll 'do better' if steven stops acting a certain way himself. the last bit is when william gives up and eventually goes back to normal via a breakdown.
“And far too late came far too soon. And the love you never made became the things you’d never do.”
in reference to the impact steven has had on williams stability emotionally/mentally as well as the traits william has picked up from him. the ‘far too late came far too soon’ is in reference to steven not noticing it sooner. the ‘love you never made became the things you’d never do’ bit could be seen as williams missed opportunities in life now that he aims to follow in stevens footsteps.
“So come on, William, grow up, be a man, ‘cause until then they’re gonna treat you like you’re just a little girl.”
THIS LYRIC TAKES ME OUT EVERYTIME. it fits so well. how william thinks that people will see him as nothing but a kid if he doesnt act mature enough. how william is still concerned people will see him as a girl despite him being openly trans. OUH. this one is the entire reason this lyric dissection exists.
“It’s me who cries mercy while your fingers curl and, oh, are you at all like me?”
feels like william making a desperate attempt to reason with steven. especially the ‘it’s me who cries mercy while your fingers curl’ part. the ‘oh, are you at all like me?’ is a rhetorical question. he ask that to try and get steven to understand what hes doing is wrong.
“Do you know what I mean? Or am I too close to see? Someone, anyone?”
william trying to explain himself. likely what he feels like when no one is responding to his rambling how he expected. he doesnt like when hes wrong about something hes rambling about.
“Well, here is the church, here is the steeple. Open the doors, see all the people.”
this one refers to a memory william has of basically this exact thing. several people at an altar at a church, holding each other and comforting each other. hes not religious but he at that moment wanted that kind of comfort.
“Alright, that’s enough, let’s get you home.”
obvious one. after all of this, steven offering him the comfort he needs. in this case, steven is quite literally the home this references.
OUH. @ask-steven-stevenson th. this is a long one but OH WELL. you did wanna be tagged i think..... as a little bonus!!!!
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thats the songs meaning. so uhrm. yeh that definitely adds on❤️
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hopepaigeturner · 1 year ago
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20 Questions for Fic Writers!
Tagged by the lovely @angel-starbeam
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Only 24, but if you look in my WIP folder tho...
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
302,639. Erm--since when?
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Mainly Bridgerton on AO3.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Six Days (Kanthony),
The Light in These Shadows (oh my Benophie baby),
A Pinch of Salt (Benophie)
Sunflower Girl (Polin)
Why man looks at horizon (Polin)
But I'd always love more 😉
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
It;s my aim to, honestly because I love chatting with people who ahev resonated with my work, and I am so thankful for those comments make me smile. Currently I've been a bit behind, same with writing, for I've got so many plates balancing at once.😅 
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Hmm...I'm more of a happy ending kinda girl...but boy is there some angst in my potential The Road to Ruin & BeautyWIP (Benophie)
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
As above, I love happy endings. It is my belief that fundamentally we enjoy hope and happy endings. As for the fic...I would have to say A Pinch of Salt.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I dont think I'm really that big a writer to get hate--which I am thankful for.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I have, but in the future I'm not. 1) because I can't stand to read it back. 2) Reading/writing smut actually messes with my brain chemistry--it basically numbs my emotions.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Does the Umbrella academy AU Two Steps From Reality count?
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Never--again I'm only a little writer.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, but I'm always open if you guys want to translate one for me
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, I think it would be great fun to do so. But I have done a lot of brain storming with @bridgertonbabe about Bridgerton Umbrella Academy AU..
14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
aH. oH. Wait--I...you can't ask me that!
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I want to finsih The Light in These Shadows, and I will, I promise. It might not be by the December deadline I had in my head which is a shame. But it will be finished!
16. What are your writing strengths?
I think I have a good writing style? There are a couple sentences that I've had a double take on because...you know, they're not too shabby. Especially in The Light in These Shadows.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
To be honest, I feel I need to get better at endings, there are sometimes where I feel I overdescribe actions. Oh and I sort of have a writing style that 'misses' out words?
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I try to do it (not via google translate) but please let me know if I ever need to correct things!
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Hmm, personally I think it was Chronicles of Narnia as a little one. On AO3, Bridgerton.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Uh, uh...uhmm...
*looks at her brain babies with identical puppy dog eyes*
I'll let you guys decide 😉
*~*~*~*~*~*
Thank you for tagging me @angel-starbeam
I now proceed to tag...
@silverhallow, @bridgertonbabe, @polarmarie, @sophiebernadotte, & @austencello
Enjoy!
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numberonetrashwitch · 1 year ago
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My Tav's, Screenshots & Tidbids
(random collection of things that bring me joy or make me think)
Contains Spoilers from the game, none too specific as im trying to keep this entertainable to all, but as their are screenshots of the game, you might wanna consider.
CW: Cannonical Violence, implied domestic abuse, Greek mythology, light nudity, heavy emotions, Murder, Body horror
Neym (finished)
chaotic good, Druid, Woodelf, Outlander the Lost Soul of Tethyr, Savior of Spawn, the undying Light Romance - Spawn Astarion
The youngest of three, Neym was an optimistic, curious little thing that sought out the world to hone her skills. But she got more than she bargained for, when she was abducted. The events of the story left her drained, she laughed a lot less, she talked a lot less. But she was happy; the happiest she could've been after all her eyes had seen.
"Love is ... a mystery, right? One moment you're out, exploring the world searching for your fill, next you'll find yourself an autumn picker, content with plums. We fought, for our lives, for our freedom, ... to walk hand in hand in the sun again. I thought i'd never find something i love more than nature itself, but truly, I was mad; mad in love for him, and equally, mad at the world which sentenced him to a life in the shadows. But for him, my pale moon, I'd challenge the rest of the gods... we will find a way... we have to..." - Her last Diary Entry. Astarion wrote below; I am greateful for your sacrifice, my undying light. Thanks to you, I shall savour any day anew.
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Acheron (finished)
chaotic evil, Sorcerer, Tiefling, Haunted one (Dark Urge) the Horn of Bhaal, the bloodless Consort, the left Hand of Evil Romance - ascendend Astarion
A smiling paragon of evil, once the most feared man in all Baldurs Gate, but now a stumbling mess, left without memory but all the more yearning for murder once more. Slowly his memories trickled back until Acheron knew that he was meant to be Bhaals chosen and the one who rule over the Absolute. It was his destiny, but Acheron didn't want to be a pawn of fate anymore.
A feeling Astarion knew all to well. The pale elf admired Acherons desire for blood, as it rivaled his own. But in the end, Acheron handed over everything, including his own body and mind, to his elven lover. Knowing he could never leave, but not desiring to.
Astarion: "my dear, i have failed to ask you before, but... why did you help me? You could have taken all that power for yourself" Acheron: "because you impressed me; most of my victims didn't even take a fraction of the abuse you faced, but you were still dead-set on risking even the bit of freedom you were offered to have it all. Even though you were .. so afraid" Astarion: "...impressed?" Acheron: "I wanted to make sure you'll never fear anything ever again. Not other vampires, nor gods, not even me." Astarion: "but darling, i have never been afraid of you..." Acheron: "...no, you were afraid that i'd leave. So i allowed you to turn me into your spawn, be ... your's - forever"
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Dhaunae (ongoing)
neutral good, Monk, Lolth-sworn Drow, Noble the unlikely Hero, the Redemption of Mezobarrenzan Romance - Wyll
"Timid" is usually not a word you'd use to describe a drow, but Dhaunae wasn't your typical drow. She was highborn, expected to marry one of the few men that had a say in the otherwise matriarchal drow society, but knew that that would be the death of her. With not a single coin to her name, she fled to the surface - and of course be met with weary eyes and uneasy steps. But then there was Theo, a human, a monk of Ilmater - a tall and imposing-looking fellow, who offered her some food. It wasn't long before Dhaunae joined his order, aiming to become a protector of the weak, though knowing that Faerûn wasn't ready to be saved by a Drow.
She admired Wyll -Blade of Frontiers- the man who'd had been saving the Sword Coast over and over, and fell for him the moment she laid her eyes on his. When Wyll was turned into a fiend for sparing Karlach, Dhaunae was there to him, to remind him he could still be a hero, while thinking to herself that she couldn't. It was as if Wyll read her mind, thanking her softly but made sure he encouraged Dhaunae whenever her heart faultered. Both inched closer to the other, until Wyll asked her to dance, in the Moonlight.
After the events of the game, Wyll and Dhaunae married, but didn't stay too long in Baldurs Gate. Too many stares when they sauntered down the streets, besides, true hero's never rest - right?
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Orion (ongoing)
true neutral, Ranger, Wood Elf, Criminal the Scorpion of Dawn, the Hunter of the Absolute Romance - Minthara
"Necessity is the mother of invention" Orion chuckled, his head cocked to the side. His smile betraying that his comment was more than just a nice proverb to rely on when you're in dire straights. It had been his life's anthem, though not by chance. You see, Orion's parents knew he was cunning and talented, so they took their chances to offer him a better life. Leaving the countryside of the heartlands for Baldurs Gate, but barely making it to Rivington.
Orions' smile fleeing from his face, just as he had to flee. He always had to. The smell of cold ash and burning houses rippling through his mind as he tries to supress the memory. It isn't very effective, but enough to place a new, a constructed smile onto his lips "speaking off necessity - you guys know i am a wanted man?"
"You are? and i thought i was the only wanted man in this camp" Astarion said, half-jokingly, a signature smile on his lips as well. He was met with silence, and a piercing stare "Oh, ... you.. you mean you have a bounty on your head?"
Orion nods, he hated to admit the fact, but if their path truly lead them to Baldurs Gate, it's better to face the truth now. The faces of his companions betrayed how this silly little revelation changed their perception of him; Gale being utterly excited, though, in equal measure, appalled. Wyll frowning, gripping his rapier as a silent warning. Astarion being amused, intrigued almost, as if he was only now able to understand why Orion could tread as silently as him. Lae'zel's mimic was the hardest to grasp, but even she looked violently dissaproving.
The tone for the evening has been set, and so the red haired one started talking. His companions eagerly clinging to every word. About the night they reached Rivington, how they and other newcomers were welcomed into a house, helped with food and water and left peacefully sleeping for the night. Until some thugs locked the doors and set the house ablaze. From then on, Orion had no where to go and needed to fend for himself, joining the Thief-guild and doing odd-jobs to keep himself fed. He grew rather successful, quickly changing into a skilled head-hunter until one of his jobs went awry. He was to assassinate an obnoxiously unwitted noble who couldn't pay his dues, while exploiting poor workers. So Orion did as he was told, but in the midst of it all, his hood slipped and exposed not just the flaming red tresses of his hair, but his face all together. He still drew his bow, and skillfully plunged a poisened arrow in the heart of the noble before running off.
Soon the whole city guard of Baldurs Gate were hot on his trail. They had seen him and wouldn't leave a stone unturned. So he fled the city. If you're already charged with assassination (amongst various other, more petty criminal acts) poaching isn't such a big of a deal - right?
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Corentine (ongoing)
lawful neutral, Tempest Domain Cleric, Human, Acolyte the silent Storm, the Tempest of Mercy, the Thorn of Talos Love Interest - Gale
"We would be gods if we wouldn't have to die"
Corentine has seen her fair share of battles; not just those in which people die, but those that you'd fight within yourself. She remembers, almost fondly, how she had to go out in the pouring rain to save her little brother. He had run off, in secret, scared by the howling winds and the thundering voices above. By the time anyoone noticed, he had already been too far gone, but Corentine didn't relent. She was running, screaming, bellowing, almost louder than the storm did. Only stopping, once the girl came entirely out of breath. She scanned her surroundings, teary-eyed, but only saw a ball of blue forming, not ten feet from her, and it roared.
"Quick, turn or you might get burned"
Her legs gave in first, before her consciousness faded.
Suddenly Corentine found herself riding on a pale horse, feeling simulaneously too hot, too cold and entirely weightless. Below her, the vast expanse of Faerûn and thick, bellowing clouds. The Girl gasped, fearfully grabbing hold of what she could - but only finding a tuft of the pale horses hair, and ... a scary looking whip. Panic arose. Her breath quickened. She cracked the whip, hoping to stop the horse, but the sound of the whip, a gutteral scream and the noise of cracking bone, was enough to destroy that glimmer of hope. She felt herself aging rapidly, her hair growing, her teeth falling out, her skin wrinkling, falling off, only to appear young again, yet strangely glowing. Her hair turned into billowing smoke, then to clouds, and then to lightning. Her eyes went dark.
When Corentine came to, there was no brother, no horse, not even her parents. Laying in a bed that was far too comfortable to be her own. The girls eyes watering, hurting, and not working properly, she uttered a weak "help... please!" though only then recognized that her ears were almost deafned. But then a kind touch, a hand on hers - a spark of hope. It took days until the involuntary shakes in her body died down, her sight and hearing recovered. But the small, tree-looking burn in the middle of her chest still hurt. The people of this place, all entirely clad in black and white robes with one eye covered, called this a sign from their god, and Corentine agreed when she saw what became of her homestead. Thus she joined a secret order of Talos, god of storms, fury and destruction.
Years later, Corentine had grown into a capable fighter, and even more capable leader. Quickly she became battle hardened, yet remained soft-spoken and wild-hearted. With confidence as her first line of self defense, she knew how to tear apart someone with her eyes only, yet only using her weapons if it absolutely required it.
When she woke at the edge of a sandbank, somewhere along the sword-coast she took it in stride, while her companions complained. Though still flocking to her, for guidance, leadership, and in Gale's Case, seeing if this Lady is even remotely capable of smiling.
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Notes:
I am not a writer, just someone who loves acting, aspiring to be a voice actor and i have a hyperactive mind.
English is my second language, please keep that in mind.
Please let me know if you liked any of my stories, if you have any ideas, or felt influenced to start your seventeeth playthrough.
these are my personal headcannons / stories for my tavs
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mirkwoodmunson · 2 years ago
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This is a weird ask maybe? But like, I have a really shitty relationship with my family, they make me seem like my emotions are overreactions. Soooo I was wondering if you could possibly do a lil hurt/comfort blurb where reader has a tough time showing emotions because of that, and Eddie insists that she can and won’t be judge n all that stuff? 💖
Have a lovely day, I love your writing!
nooo not weird at all + you are so valid ❤️
thank you so much!! i hope you have a lovely day too!!!
“c’mooon, crabbypants. out with it. what’s goin’ on?”
usually his goading and teasing gets you to grin, elicits a snort and makes you playfully shove his shoulder. usually.
he sits beside you only rotated — while you were sat normally at the picnic table, he sat on the table itself with his feet planted on the bench beside you, facing the opposite direction, elbows on his knees and leaning toward you with a wide smirk, aiming a waggling finger in your direction that threatens to come closer and tickle your ear or pick your nose. eddie was unpredictable like that.
“knock it off, eddie,” you state flatly, deftly swatting his hand away with a huff.
again, usually he would double down, but eddie knows you well enough by now that he’s been able to pick up on your quirks. he can tell the silly ‘knock it off’s’ from the serious ones, and that one was serious enough to make his smile falter a bit, shadowed by concern.
when he sees you like this it just makes him want to help you. it just makes him sad that you’re sad. far be it from him to allow this dark cloud to continue shadowing you.
you’re hunched over an open notebook, doodling in the margins of some notes. from the corner of your eye you see eddie crane down, leaning to the side trying to get a look at you, before he leans back up and simply drops down a level and onto the bench with you, grunting with the force. he watches for your reaction. you continue to hunch.
the quiet continues between you two, eddie just sits facing the opposite way while you continue to write. he props an elbow on the table and slides it down till he’s leaning way over, slouched towards you, craning his head to find your eyes. when they flit up to meet his, his brow raises slightly and he smiles that cheesy, dorky smile. a face that says, very simply, ‘talk to meee~!’
you sigh heavily and flip your notebook closed, eddie swings a leg over so he’s straddling the bench, facing you, resting an arm on the table waiting for you to say something. but you still don’t say anything, instead picking at the warped wood beneath your palms.
after another beat of silence, eddie raises his own palms to his mouth, and blows a startlingly loud raspberry into them, making you jump in your seat and whip your head around to look at him; and when you do he’s grinning at you and wheezing quiet laughter. you can’t help the upwards quirk in the corner of your mouth, not when he’s looking at you like that with that big toothy smile, your cheeks warming.
“there you are!” he beams, excited that he’s gotten a positive reaction, and scoots closer. you sigh softly and the smile grows a little, mimicking him and lifting a leg over the bench to straddle it and face eddie. a little more serious, softer, he says, “c’mon, y/n, you know you can talk to me. spill.”
“…you’ll think it sounds so stupid, i-“
“noo nononono, hey. look at me,” he speaks so gently but it’s insistent, and so you do. his brown eyes are warm and soothing and hold your gaze with a tender concern. “don’t say that shit. please? literally nothing you say is stupid. nothing.”
your heart beats heavy and you start to look down, but eddie catches your chin with a loose fist and holds it up for you, meets your eye again,
“hey hey hey, listen! what’re you scared of, huh?” he’s smiling, encouraging, and gently stroking your chin with his thumb, “you’re talkin’ to eddie ‘the freak’ munson. the guys in hellfire, you think i judge them? think i like hangin’ around you so i can pick you apart?” with his free hand he playfully pinches your arm and you squeak, finally expelling a giggle, and eddie lights up and finds you can hold yourself up now as he puts his hands on your knees. you look at him without trouble now, smiling at each other.
“you— you can tell me anything, and i’m always gonna listen. i’m always here, and i’m never gonna judge you, i just…” he squeezes your knees. “i wanna help. okay? i-i want… i want you to feel like you can talk to me. like i’m… safe. y’know?”
you nod softly and marvel at the boy before you.
“so,” eddie says, and takes one of your hands into his own. “let’s hear it. what’s goin’ on?”
and you tell him. and he holds your hand all the while.
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da-vulture-boi · 2 years ago
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BakuDeku THEORY
SPOILERS
Ok. Here me out.
I’m not saying it’s right or okay for what Bakugou did to Deku. Not at all. But. Their relationship has improved with Bakugou apologizing.
In the anime, Bakugou clearly is angry all the time. But with a careful eye, you can see not everything he shows is hatred, he just believes it is. Emotional immaturity.
Deku is emotionally… also immature but better than Bakugou slightly. Bakugou admits in the manga, that he was jealous of Deku for being quirkless and still determined to be a hero. That he was starting to move without Bakugou in the lead.
When Bakugou “thanks” Deku for saving him from the slime villain, you can tell he’s struggling with his pride and trying to act tough. Because really, he did feel bad. Not just because Deku, a quirkless no one just saved the great and powerful Bakugou Katsuki. But also, he did it and didn’t rub it in his face. He risked his life to save him in a situation that Bakugou probably knew he couldn’t make it out himself in. If it wasn’t for Deku, he could have died.
As the story continues from there, you start to see more emotions from Bakugou as he tries to face that quirkless, weak, Deku is now independent and strong Deku. He was straying from Bakugou’s shadow. That was making him panic.
He realized he no longer has complete control. After the kidnapping, Bakugou saw Deku, destroyed from fighting with Muscular, still attempting to save him. And by his expression, you could tell, he hoped Deku would make it in time.
Slowly through the story, Bakugou is seeing Deku grow into an independent person, which makes him feel behind. When the two fought, he told of how he was struggling. All Might’s relationship with Deku, the sudden quirk, it all just was rubbing him the wrong way.
But when he found out the truth, he calmed a bit. Not completely, but a little better. He no longer had emotional breakdowns from him. Instead, he tried to aim high than Deku and took it as strength for a challenge.
Bakugou eventually apologized to Deku in order for Rogue Deku to come back to UA and stop hurting himself. But he did mean it. And he started to help Deku train. All Might even asked him if this was his way of regaining Izuku’s trust after the bullying, his way of atoning. Which, he confirmed. Knowing he feels bad, recognizes the mistake, and is trying to fix it is already showing major growth. The way he was watching Izuku train in that scene tells me he really struggles with that fact.
Then, when the war arc is started, and Bakugou dies, the entire chapter he never said “Deku” he said “Izuku” and no matter what, the whole chapter was saying good things about him. While he was fighting to the death, he couldn’t help but admire Izuku. That’s where he got his strength. Then the last remark about the game card that he wanted All Might to sign, he got with Izuku when they were still friends. And maybe, that had always been something he kept of Deku. When he started bullying him, I believe he still held the memories with him in a good way.
There’s a theory of him being mean to Deku because of him trying to protect the “weaker” person. And he got mad because Deku wasn’t accepting it.
Also of him being jealous of his friendliness so he tried to keep people away from him, keep him under his control.
And though Izuku said the name Deku was given as an insult, maybe it wasn’t a clear message. For instance, he actually thought of Deku as a compliment but turned it around using word play to make it sound like he was useless. Plus, he names all his friends degrading nicknames. Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, Raccoon Eyes, etc. So the fact he gave Izuku a name that was degrading might also be his way of saying they were friends. In his own way.
There’s a lot of reading in between the lines with those two. We don’t actually know if being diagnosed quirkless was why Bakugou started to bully him. It could of been they had a fight, or a rumor, and the timing just matched up. We don’t know. And if the author doesn’t tell us, we’ll never know.
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bokettochild · 3 years ago
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Violet
So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?
I wrote a thing based off of it.
I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...
Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.
There are many things you do not do in Castletown.
One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.
He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!
They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.
It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?
Maybe it was because they were split.
It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.
True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.
In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.
That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.
He made small talk.
It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.
“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.
“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”
Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.
Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.
Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.
Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?
What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.
Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.
Bravo, Rancher, bravo.
“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”
“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.
Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.
They needed a distraction, fast.
So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”
His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”
Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.
Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.
“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.
Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.
“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”
Woman?!?!?!
“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”
Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?
A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.
“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.
Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”
The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?
“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.
“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.
“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.
People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.
“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.
“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”
The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.
“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.
“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”
“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”
And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”
Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.
Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.
“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”
It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.
“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”
Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.
He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.
“They thought we were married....”
Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”
“Yeah.”
"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.
Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.
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auncyen · 2 years ago
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A L and R for the ask meme!
a. ships and friendships I like a lot-- for ships this is Shuann, Pegoryu, Shukita and Shuharu. I do like some other ships (polythieves! ...but probably post canon because when would they find the time during lol) but those are the big ones. friendships--Morgana & Ren, Morgana & Ann (esp. with the angle Strikers took, where he's chilled out on the crush but just really wants to make her happy), Morgana & Sophie and like out of the adult confidants I really like Yoshida and Kawakami's relationships with Ren (just. 100% blacking out the part where atlus made it possible to date Kawakami, because I still maintain it does not make a shred of sense for her character.) Also the relationship with Sojiro but that's more family. While not a thing at all in canon it's fun to imagine Kawakami and Maruki as friends like. especially as the year goes on and Kawakami's getting a little relief from her own stress to notice Maruki's weirdness and basically the two of them trying to fuss after each other while being bad at taking care of themselves LOL. (I'd say "ship????" but I can't imagine Maruki remotely going for it, and I think Kawakami would at least need some kind of obvious sign of interest from a guy before she tried starting something herself. so just trying-to-be-functional adult friends.)
l. Makoto's not my fave but I do think she's a decent character and I think the fandom gives her too much flak individually for her plan of changing things as a police officer, so I want to praise her for that. Do I think it's a great plan? No, it kind of sucks, and I'm glad she has a good support network that makes for better odds she could bail out if she needs to and start a new career. But like. 1) she's a teenager and there's an obvious emotional angle to her plan. 2) she is the only Phantom Thief who seems to be planning to try to reform the system at all. This isn't to say the other Thieves' goals are bad (there's nothing wrong with doing something for yourself + some like Ann and Haru still are pursuing goals that aim to help others) but like. they're in Strikers less than a year out from the last near-collapse from society and Yusuke has a comment that's like "the Phantom Thieves will patrol from the shadows" which is. no. NO. some root things need to change society can't keep doing this!!!! (I did recently post about how Persona world constantly narrowly avoiding the apocalypse is...a bit odd for previous Persona users doing very little to help out later lol) So obviously. Makoto is inexperienced and so she has a plan that kind of sucks and will probably need reworking. But I admire her for trying to think about it and will mourn ahead of time that Persona continuity will let absolutely nothing come of it besides her possibly cameoing as a cop in P6. Someone who loves Makoto write the fic where as an adult she keeps working at the goal to make meaningful reform in the justice system, learning over time if/when she needs to change angles. ...This may have been more a rant about how the persona premise of "real world but psychological shadows do magic things" is at conflict with the attempt at continuity than praise. Plus I do like Makoto a bit, she's just not a fave. um. OHYA HAS THE MOST INTERESTING CONFIDANT BACKSTORY GIVEN ITS RELEVANCE TO THE MAIN PLOT. I just wish her confidant perks made sense.
r. morgana and ren favorite friendship PARTNERS IN CRIME PARTNERS IN CRIME
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cinnamonest · 4 years ago
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I feel like I’ve found my kin, I fell in love with Kakashi when I was like 8 LOL. Can I request some general yandere Zoro headcanons btw? I loved/still love him too 😶
Yes you may ahhh!!!! I love Zoro so much. I love writing for fandoms like this bc shounen anime are... Well, shounen, they're aimed at dudes, so they tend to not have as large of a female audience so there's not a lot of content out there. I love Luffy and there's like zero girl-targeted content for him. I swear I've spent so much time looking for wholesome, decent LuNa (my otp im sorry i just hhhh) doujins that aren't super male-oriented, and there's like... 2. For a 900+ episode anime. 2.
I also love the concept of a yandere in a situation where they CAN'T kidnap you, they're limited by their circumstances, so they have to kind of adjust or go insane. It's an interesting dynamic because it eliminates the norm for yanderes.
I think I mentioned this but I'm not 100% caught up with one piece (I mean, who is?), so I'm just keeping it simplistic and going with kinda basic Zoro and nothing with specific character developments or any spoilers other than his backstory
Yandere Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)
Tws: all the usuals -- yandere, noncon, kidnapping
He meets you while he's lost. I'm sorry I just. Zoro gets lost in the middle of some place they're docked, and you're just such a sweetheart, you see this guy clearly not knowing where he's going, and offer to help him. He's kind of taken aback by your softness and sweetness.
He's not easily made aware of his own feelings. He's a rough and tough sort of guy, and he has dedicated himself to swordsmanship so much that he's neglected to focus on himself and his interpersonal relationships, and he's not really self aware at all of his own feelings, very out of touch with his emotions.
Obviously, even if he tries to shove it down, Kuina weighs heavily on his mind in relation to you. He's another man that has known loss and it's dealt its damage on his psyche. He can't lose another person who's dear to him again.
This results in him becoming insanely protective, one of the most protective yans out there. He's easily one led into paranoia delusions regarding your safety. However, he's an honest and reasonable guy and can be level-headed when confronted. If someone (not yourself, as he thinks you're naive, but maybe another girl like Nami or Robin) tells him he's being overprotective and exaggerating about your safety, he may actually have a moment of self-realization and admit to it. He's capable of being reasonable enough to see it once it's pointed out to him. However... this doesn't stop him. He tries, really, he genuinely tells himself that he needs to stop. But his instincts just kind of take over. It's an impulse, to stop you from doing even the most slightly dangerous things.
Once you join the Straw Hat Crew, he just kinda... clings. It's a silent presence, but he's always there, constantly seems to show up wherever you are. Unfortunately, you can't really... get away from him per se. You're kinda limited to one ship, at least as long as you're out on the sea. Your only option for respite is going to your room or bathing, otherwise, he's gonna follow you, even if he's not saying anything and (very badly) trying to feign indifference, pretending you just happen to be going the same way all the time. He doesn't really know what to say, he's not good with these things, and often he's acting without really thinking too much about it. He won't usually strike up a conversation, he just... is there. Watches. May awkwardly ask a question or make a passing comment.
One scenario I imagine is you jokingly picking up one of his swords and wielding it around giggling and he just flips out, takes it from you and yells at you not to do that, are you an idiot? Do you want to trip and fall and have that impale you? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to slice your arm open by accident? It's startling to both you and anyone watching -- even for someone who gets yell-y as easily as him, it seems like an overreaction. He'll apologize but insist it's a safety thing, really.
And he really tries to hide his more... aggressive nature, because he thinks it will drive you away -- he's a blunt, tough guy with a short-fused temper, and he thinks that's definitely not something women like very much. He tries not to yell at you, not get mad so easy, keep his calm better around you, and might even be nicer to others so that you don't think he's mean. And for the most part, he can manage that. Except when it comes to a very specific, very problematic blonde crew member. His little conflicts with Sanji get worse, to even a point that he's snapping at him so frequently that even Sanji himself is a bit bewildered and caught off guard by it. The others notice they fight a lot more often... and Zoro always seems to instigate it, picking quarrels over the littlest things. In reality, he's afraid of the other's... sleazy nature. He can't have you falling for that bastard. He even starts to get jittery when you're in the presence of Franky, Usopp, hell even Luffy of all people. It's noticeable, and everyone kinda worries for him.
He kicks himself for it as soon as he does it, but he finds himself insulting you nonetheless. It's a terrible habit. He gets so awkward and flustered that it's second nature for him to say something snarky or even rude when you talk to him, and he immediately is just mentally screaming at himself for doing so. This will get a bit better with time, though, if you two talk more often.
Now, even if you can fight, you're never gonna really get the opportunity. In battle, he's clinging to you and protecting you at every moment, even if it costs the others some unnecessary wounds. It's highly uncharacteristic of him, and they notice. He won't leave your side, insisting that you're a weak fighter and that he has to take care of you. You just don't get it, you overestimate yourself, you underestimate your enemies, you're a girl. What, Nami and Robin? Well, they've been at this much longer than you, and they had rough upbringings. You're different. You're soft... fragile. You just can't see it. You're lucky he's here to protect your dumbass.
Due to your setup, well, he can't really kidnap you per se. He undoubtedly would if you two were somewhere else, in another life or another setting, but that's not really an option, and even as a yandere, he would never go so far as to kill or abandon his crew. So, he's stuck with just... slowly, slowly mentally deteriorating.
Now, he's not capable of kidnapping, he's not smart enough to really manipulate you into anything (although he WILL tell you that some of the other guys are out to use you), so, he's left to be the guard dog he inevitably becomes to you. If you avoid him, he'll just follow you. If you don't talk to him, that's ok. If you confront him, he'll just insist he has no idea what you're talking about, and you'll start to feel like maybe you're just paranoid. The others... don't really know what to do, to be honest. I can see Nami/Robin potentially confronting him, but in the end, they can't force him to change his behaviors, and they can't afford to lose him. This results in, gradually, everyone slowly kind of accepting your dynamic onboard. They feel bad for you, really, but... in the end, Zoro's just more valuable to the crew. Sorry. They're not gonna get rid of him, but they don't want to get rid of you either.
If you leave? It may just be one of the very very few things that could ever cause him to leave the Strawhats. It would tear him up, really, it goes against his dreams, his pride, his loyalty, but in the end... his loyalty is first and foremost to you. He'll follow you if you leave. It's a bad move on your part, because this gets rid of the only thing standing between you and kidnapping. Which, at that point, surely will happen. Like his other behaviors, he'll feel bad, he'll try and stop himself, tell himself it's wrong, but you'll end up bound in some dark basement nonetheless. He's one to take a very simple approach. Find you alone, sling you up and over his shoulder and carry you off before anyone can come.
Rejection doesn't faze him. No matter what, he'll remain by your side. Even if you never love him in return. It's just his nature, he's a guardian through and through.
In the end, he'll be right there by your side, scaring off any competitors, clinging to you like glue, ever in your presence like a shadow, forever. Whether you want him to or not. He's just an inescapable force, an unmovable object, and you're wasting your time trying to change your fate.
Now, he's very flustered with anything sexual. Highly embarrassed, lots of shame, and doesn't talk much about it. It just kind of happens. He doesn't talk much during, mostly grunts and the occasional fuck when you clamp down, occasionally asking you if you're ok, if it hurts, if it feels good. It's one of the only very soft sides of him. In the end, he really, truly loves you, and doesn't want to hurt you, he wants you to feel good and just love him. It's a very different side to him, one no one else has ever really seen, it's the most vulnerable he himself has ever been with another person.
He feels shame for it, but initially he'll definitely be one to steal your things, sit outside of your room at night, listening to you through the wall, try and get glimpses of you bathing or dressing. He really, really feels guilty, and he's one that will, once you're comfortably restrained and never going anywhere, just sit down and list out every nasty little thing he's ever done regarding you, just to get it off his chest. He understands if you react badly, and he'll apologize, which is a bit ironic considering how much worse kidnapping you is.
He'll apologize for that, too. He's actually one to do so a lot. He's normally a proud guy, but with this? He knows it's wrong, he knows it's fucked up. He knows he can't stop. And he'll be sorry to the moon and back. Just never sorry enough to stop.
He's actually a pretty vanilla guy. Hand-holding missionary type. And, despite being so embarrassed over it all, oddly romantic about it. It's one of the only things he's ever soft and gentle about, it's almost unbelievable to you that he's capable of being so gentle and slow with anything. But he'll kiss your forehead, really take his time with it all, make you cum on his fingers before ever actually fucking you. Hold your hand, look into your eyes. It would be honestly incredibly sweet if it weren't... you know, taking place in some dark sealed off room after dragging you there against your will.
If he's particularly mad, he can get rougher, but he'll apologize after. It's a lot of harsh grabbing, biting, it leaves bruises that he'll rub over softly, whispering an apology, even if a little part of him likes the way it looks on you.
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hes-writer · 4 years ago
Text
Reign (3)
Summary: harry sees something he's supposed to have
Warnings:  angst in the beginning, angst in the middle, angst near the end
Word Count: 4881 words
A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : dont cheat and don’t do drugs, kids
Tarnish (1)  .  Halo (2)  . Reign (3) . Trial (4) .
Errors (5) . Ruin (6) . Crumble (7)
Error Taglist
____
A writer that cannot write is dead.
When one loses the ability to tell their stories and anecdotes through the mere action of swirling words together to create an imaginable atmosphere of real-world fantasy; they are dead. A writer recovering from the mundane and mediocre way of penning experiences to bounce back into what they used to be is difficult. It is easier to free fall and drown in the depths of despair. The moment thoughts and rumination fog up to form a blurry image of conviction is a warning sign, blaring at the back of their minds and sometimes even in their faces.
Harry is a writer--or, he was. Picking up the pen to style the words lingering in his head used to be as easy as blinking; quick and natural. Now, the words claw at the swell of his throat, trying to spit an adjective to describe the way he felt. It was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be lathed into existence. It did not matter if his cognition was mingled with various chemicals aimed to be able to feel happiness.
He was sober but he had trouble placing his finger on why it was so strenuous to narrate his feelings throughout the breakup. Being high or drunk was never the answer for him. Weed made him tired and made him have a case of cottonmouth. Harry learned from a young age that he should only ever engage with alcohol if he was in a mindset and setting that catered to increase existing good vibes. He thought that maybe he was in an odd phase of perceiving the opposite, and so he intoxicated himself enough to understand that it didn’t matter if he was soaked head-to-toe in sobriety or whizzed out of his mind by the amber liquid swirling in the glass in his hand. But that wasn’t the circumstance. It also didn’t matter if he was grasping his favourite pen to write--because it was comfortable--or tapping his calloused thumbs against his phone keypad. Hell, it didn’t make a difference when he sat down and prepared his typewriter to indulge in a headspace of vintage songwriting. Maybe that would help.
It didn’t.
He had stories to tell. Everything was laid out in misty overcast yet Harry’s great ideas morphed into gentle mistakes, harsh mistakes and discoveries that had him almost ripping his hair out of the roots of his scalp. When he felt the wave of his ocean-thoughts rise and peek where the sand shifted, his fingers were ready to move and discern for the eyes to see. But with each fritter, he couldn’t seem to get even two paragraphs in to decide that it was utter shit.
Harry was old enough to understand that slumping on the wet sand was a part of life. Sometimes picking up a fistful of grains and throwing them back to the sea was a great way to release frustration. But it seemed like this plunge of his ability to write was a hole of quicksand. He was trying his hardest to displace himself as swiftly as possible but it only made his scenario worse. The muddy sand clung unto his legs like sticky glue, heftier with each effort to leave. He wanted to move on. He wanted to forget everything that occurred in the past four years. Harry wanted to erase Y/N from his life because she wasn’t around anymore to bring those memories back to sparkly existence.
What he needed to do was nestle himself into a certain depth, calmly, in order to pull a limb out and ensure that his progress on the so-called ‘moving on’ did not have any drawbacks. Until then, he cannot possibly create songs that he was well-known for if he wasn’t patient enough.
He wanted so badly to tell his side of the story. Harry craved to think as clearly as he did when he told Y/N about his plan for their future. Admitting to his feelings was a hard route. Sure, he can be vulnerable but it took a great deal of convincing on his part to immerse himself in the deepest parts of his brain to understand why he felt the way he did. He usually had the means of songwriting to help him out but that obviously wasn’t working out that good for him.
___
Harry was packing the rest of Y/N’s things in boxes to be picked up later in the afternoon. He was annoyed at first at how she depended on him to fold her clothes properly instead of doing the bundle of the work herself. But he guessed that she didn’t want to be around him for longer than she had to. To be frank, he also did not want to indulge in what might turn into an argument if they spoke about the reason for their breakup. It was just a bit confusing because he had an urge to still want her around despite their less than likely situation.
Torture. If Harry had one chance to describe the way he felt right now; it was torture. With every nook of Y/N’s side of the closet emptying into brown, cardboard boxes--he physically how much she had integrated her life with his. How much space she took up in his life. How his clothes and her clothes were so interchanged between them that he couldn’t decide if the gray pull-over was actually his or hers. And in a moment of selfishness did he tuck it away for his safe-keeping despite seeing the tag imprinted on the inside; a shop that he hadn’t set foot in so it was a guarantee that it was hers.
Her scent embedded in the thin threads of each fabric wafted to his nose; each with a new wave of memories engulfing his senses as if each piece garnered a specific scent tailored to a specific event. Like her sunflower sundress--it smelled of fresh flowers as if the print was a scratch and sniff that released a fragrance. Or their DIY-ed tie-dye shirt of pastel blue and cotton candy pink. It was a matching piece made out of the cheap dye and a simple white tee but it was theirs. Things like these made Harry want to yell in frustration because every time he thought that he was completely over her-- Y/N appears out of visibly nowhere and towers over him.
Seeing her for the first time in days was a breath of relief. She looked fine. Glowing even, and Harry did not know what to make of it. As sadistic as it sounded, he was expecting dry-stained tears and a birds’ nest of hair trampling her head. Instead, Y/N was dressed for comfort in her baggy jeans and an even looser sweater covering her body. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, giving him a nod in greeting as he gestured to the boxes littering the floor.
Harry offered to help--it was the least he could do. And somehow, silence protruded from the tense atmosphere, begging to be cut by a knife yielded through their voices nipping at each others’ emotions.
“Let go of my damn hand,” Y/N stated, her hard stare could turn Harry into stone. He just wanted her to listen before she left.
He shook his head in denial of her request, tightening his grip further. “No. Listen to me, Y/N,”
“What do you possibly have to say that will change anything between us?”
And maybe it was her fault for assuming that he wanted to fix things. The sliver of hope thinly dressed behind closed lids enabled her to think that maybe he was going to say that he wanted to make things work again. That he had broken up with Camille and he realized what a stupid he had done throwing away everything they built up to for the past four years for an affair that couldn’t quench the thirst of his desire to have a family.
Harry sighed, a shadow of mischievous smirk painted on his lips. But maybe it was Y/N’s sight in deception because she could never see Harry as anything other than sweet and kind Harry incapable of hurting a fly.
“What? I don’t intend to. We’re broken. We’re beyond fixing,”
The hitch in her breath was as sharp as the stare he was searing her with. Forcing her to please understand that this would be their last conversation--if time and fate were on their side. “You’re not something I would take the time to handle,”
“Stop saying shit you don’t mean, Harry” Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. His macho act was barely an act and more like a stage curtain easily pushed with a flick of a wrist.
“Things I don’t mean?”
“You heard me,” She crossed her arms over his chest in defence, leaning against the closed trunk. “Say what you will but our love was real. Don’t make me seem like I’m crazy. Don’t tell me that I’m a mistake,” Her voice was filled with confidence because she knew the affection that Harry diffused.
The cradles of his palm at the small of her back when they had to walk past a crowd. The subtle graze of the back of his fingers caressing the bare skin of her arm. Kisses pressed to her temple as she read a novel and swirling fingertips twirling her hair. These were acts of love that happened nearly every day in their relationship. A routine that felt different if it wasn’t done to or with each other.
Exasperatedly, Harry felt the same itching crawling up his spine. His ego ballooning into a delicate size and one more word from Y/N’s lush lips would have him on his hands and knees, begging for her back.
“This, us, was a fuckin’ mistake,” Harry’s accent thunked heavily in her cochlea, practically spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were poisonous. Ringed fingers gesticulated the space between them to emphasize how much of a misunderstanding they truly were. “I should’ve known the second things went further than planned,”
Y/N felt her heart drop to her full stomach. The feeling so nauseating that she instinctively palmed her belly over the fabric to protect her little baby from his harsh words. Even though they weren’t directed towards anyone but Y/N. She didn’t think that their unborn child deserved scrutiny from their own father.
“You don’t mean that, Harry.”
Because how could he? Not when he emulated sincerity through his syrupy voice. Not when he spent hours loving on her tummy and spoke to it like he would if she were pregnant. Especially not when every kiss from him felt like a buzz of electricity coursing through her veins because he was the main distributor of her happiness.
Harry truly was an asshole for making her hope and wonder of what the future held when he was unsure himself. He did want a family. That was a statement in all its truthfulness. What he wasn’t sure about was if he wanted a family with Y/N. He could have a family; kids of his own in his own time. But Y/N didn’t have to necessarily be the mother. So was he besotted with the concept of family and marriage regardless of who it was with?
“But I do,”
The rain started drizzling in frequent spurts, planting a fat droplet on her cheek that could be argued as a tear escaping Y/N’s eye. It hurt a lot to hear that from him. The man of her dreams blatantly denying each sugary word because his plans had changed.
“You’re a goddamn mistake is what you are,’
“Why are you. . .saying all these things to me? Are you trying to hurt me?” The shakiness of Y/N’s tone had Harry swallowing his words down his strep throat.
He shook his head in disagreement, “No, I’m not. ‘M just tryna make you see my side. So you can understand,” His head dipped to the side, softening his tone yet stern as though he was speaking to a child.
And that was one of the reasons why Y/N didn’t believe his all-too stoic demeanour about her. Harry was great at making others see his side regardless of how much in the wrong he was.
So why was he struggling?
___
Needless to say, he wasn’t very respectful towards Y/N any other time afterwards. He had unblocked her number months after blocking it at one point and demanded answers that he didn’t have the right to know. In retrospect, Harry was embarrassed by the way he acted. He did cheat on her and suddenly he was a saint because she moved on quicker than he thought she would? Unbelievable.
In his defence, the night he became the drunk caller was the same night he fought with Camille about having children; having a family they can call their own. Ever since that discussion did Harry notice a dispatch in their relationship. It was like they were aware of a missing link that had disappeared in their connection, but neither one of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. Harry supposed that now that Camille knew what he wanted (and vice versa)--she was feeling the pressure of giving in to him. Don’t get him wrong, Harry absolutely wanted a family and he thought that Camille was the right partner to build it with. However, he couldn’t help the voice at the back of his mind slyly whispering that he had forced her to give him what he wanted for the sake of saving their failing relationship.
___
It had been two and a half years since he mildly and miserably accepted that his dream family was being erased like a pencil on paper.
The first year; Harry still clung to the obscure hope that Camille might change her mind of having kids. Many fights sprouted between the two of them concluding in them sleeping at different places for weeks on end until they eventually crawled back to each other like an invisible string. The second-year; Harry brought up the idea of adoption. It was a hard choice for him as he desperately wanted kids of his own. A boy that looked like him and his love or a little girl that smiled at him with deep dimples mirroring his own.
And Harry liked to think that he was just on the edge of convincing Camille to consider the option when his tour was scheduled a few months after. A new dealbreaker was that Harry wasn’t going to be around much to watch and nurture the little bub they might’ve adopted. It was a sudden intrusion to think about since Harry was good with kids. He knew that. That was why he had three godchildren of his own. But what hit him the most was how sure Camille sounded when she yelled at him about leaving for months at a time and returning for a bit, only to leave again. Now, Harry hadn’t considered that part. But surely he will be ready to choose between a family and his career, right? When the time comes, he thought.
___
It pained Harry to admit that his relationship with Camille was dwindling down the drain. The knowledge that there was no future--the one that Harry envisioned--for them was getting more and more real each passing day. 
A late-night grocery trip was one of the many examples that had Harry rethinking his actions for the past couple of years. It was the time period where night owls arose and barely any customers littered the aisles. Still, Harry made sure to keep his hoodie up to shield his face.
Camille had an early flight to Milan in just a few hours later that day and she wanted to purchase some things to bring with her; in case they weren’t available in the country. So here they were at three in the morning.
As Camille walked ahead of him in her sweatpants and a plain tee, Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker to the clothing section to his right The first-floor space was decorated with pastel blues and pinks; a stroller was displayed with a price would not make a dent in Harry’s bank account.
“‘M just gonna grab somethin’ over here, Cam,” Harry muttered as he pointed a thumb behind him. She nodded, “Meet me at the produce? Need to get you some fruits,”
Harry felt guilt thudding his chest because although he was losing feelings he thought were written in stone, Camille appeared to care for him the same way she always had.
He walked to the brightly lit area, puffing his cheek as a cute onesie caught his eye, “You’re so golden” with the word ‘golden’ printed in a shiny, yellow glimmer. He smiled at the thought of baby angel cooing at him as he tickled her tummy. Harry passed by the shoes next, picking up a pair barely the size of his palm. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Y/N years ago,
___
“I’m just saying,” Y/N took a bite of a pickle she held on her left hand, “Baby shoes have no business being that expensive,”
Harry chuckled from his place across the counter, “Babies need shoes too, love,’
She grabbed her fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry from her bowl, “I didn’t say the don’t need shoes. For tiny things, they could at least be a bit cheaper,”
Harry watched as she munched on a pickle on her left and took a bite of a strawberry on the other. His tongue poked out in a gag at the odd combination, resorting in glare and a huff from Y/N.
“You should try it instead of judging me,’
“No, thank you. Watching you eat it is enough for me,’
___
Harry craned his head at each aisle, hoping to find Camille and to distract himself from the endless Y/N related thoughts that somehow returned to his brain. He needed his girlfriend to remind him that he cannot just knock on Y/N’s door and ask her about the baby she has. If he could hold them for a bit because his baby fever was through the roof.
Locating the produce section, Harry whistled mindlessly as he searched for a blonde head of hair, failing to notice that there was a basket in front of his feet. He had kicked it, jolting him out of his thoughts in a hurry.
A man with brown hair sporting an outfit similar to his (sweats and a hoodie), chuckled at him as Harry leaned down to retrieve the gray basket filled with a jar of pickles.
“Sorry man,” Harry muttered, holding the handles up for the man to carry.
“It’s alright, it happens,” The guy had not seen his face yet, too busy inspecting the carton of strawberries.
He decided to continue the conversation, “Strawberries and pickles? Odd combo, huh,” Harry was briefly reminded of Y/N’s obsession with the two rival products.
“Yeah, m’lady loves ‘em. Had a craving in the middle of the night. She’s in the car right now with our lil bubba,”
Harry’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. He needed to get his rails in check. He cannot keep having his heart bursting with adoration at the mere mention of a baby.
“I’m Connor,” He said, finally facing Harry after choosing the best carton.
“I'm--,”
“Harry!” Both men turned their heads towards Camille carrying a basket full fruits and green veggies, “Got you some stuff to blend for your smoothies,”
Connor squinted his eyes at the couple and Harry internally screamed because he knew that he and Camille had been recognized. “Harry. Yeah, I know you,” The sudden hostility made Harry confused as Connor grasped his basket from him in a harsh manner, heading towards the checkout.
The rest of the time inside the store was filled with curiosities as Harry carried the paper bags towards the car, barely recognizing Connor’s figure heading towards his own vehicle. Luckily, Harry has parked only a few slots away and could inconspicuously watch Connor and his so-called ‘lady’.
Except, Camille was ushering him to hurry up as she still had a few things to pack at home.
___
On most days, Harry was used to waking up alone. Used to feeling the shiver crawling up his side, used to seeing the indent left by Camille’s body instead of her. He had grown familiar with the sudden cast of loneliness blanketing him thicker than the duvet on top of his body.
The early morning trip to the store had tired him out, paired with the overthinking of the man named ‘Connor’ that flipped his attitude towards him quicker than he could kick the grey basket with his feet. He flopped back to the mattress after washing his face and brushing his teeth. It was noon when he jolted out of bed again at the sound of his front door opening, voices filling the empty space that had Harry running towards the foyer in case there was an intruder.
His tense shoulders sagged in relief when he caught sight of his mum and Gemma, “Oh, s’just you guys,”
Both women looked up at him at the top of the stairs, “You forgot we were coming over for the weekend, didn’t you?” Gemma teased as she headed to the living room. Harry followed, walking down the stairs.
He scratched the nape of his neck nervously, “No. . . “
“Can you help me reach this, H?�� Anne called out from the kitchen.
His mum gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, you did, by the way. Slept through the whole morning. Good thing Camille let us in before she left,”
At the sound of a bag crumpling and squeals echoing the hollow house, Harry scrunched his nose in curiosity, briskly walking where Gemm was currently holding up tiny baby clothes in front of her. “Who’s that for?” He thought of any possible friends that had had a baby recently but couldn’t recall any.
She immediately stuffed the clothing into the bag, nervously placing a hand on her chest, “Gosh, Harry, you scared me,” Her brows went high on her forehead in alarm, sharing a look with her mum trailing behind Harry.
“Well? Did I miss something?”
“Oh, it’s for one of my friends,”
Harry contemplated on his next words, “D-did you know that Y/N had a baby?” It couldn’t be right if his sister and mum knew about his exes baby and not him, right? That’s just plain odd to still be in touch with an ex's family. His brows furrowed in suspicion as both of them declined his question.
“What? Nooo,”
Awkward silence filtered through the air as Anne sipped water from her mug and Harry was slowly putting the pieces together. Gemme dove to the centre of the couch where her phone was when it rang suddenly, surprising all three of them. Harry was quicker, eyeing his mum and sister and inspecting the emoji substituting as a name before sliding his thumb to answer it.
"Hey, Gems! Are you coming to the park? We're waiting for you,”
Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach just as the phone nearly slipped from his clutch. That voice. He could recognize it from everywhere having spent nearly every morning for the four years that they were together hearing it lulling him out of sleep. It was Y/N’s voice calling his sister who was looking extremely anxious.
He tapped on the ‘mute’ button, “What does she mean ‘we’?”
“Nothing! Give me my phone back,” Gemma tried to reach for the device but Harry held it high beyond her reach.
“I saw the picture you sent me. I told you that you and Anne didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry felt dizzy. “Connor and I got some things a few weeks ago. But that skirt is so adorable!”
One part of him was glad to hear her voice. In fact, Harry found himself smiling too, despite what he just heard. Connor. “Harry, won’t be there right? Hello? Have I been talking to myself this whole time,” Y/N laughed a little; she had a habit of talking endlessly when she was excited. It made Harry more sombre, letting his guards down and his arm in reach for Gemma to grasp.
“Hey! I'm just organizing the clothes, see you soon!" Gemma jammed her finger on the red end call, anxiously glancing at her brother, piecing everything together.
“Who's Connor?" Could it be that the Connor he met last night was the same as Y/N’s? The one who bought pickles and strawberries--one of Y/N favourite food combinations? He mentioned that he had a little girl and Y/N just called to meet his sister and his mum at the park. And baby clothes?
Anne and Gemma looked at each other, quickly deciding that for the benefit of Harry that they should tell him at least a little bit. He was looking as if he was going insane, especially with his bed head pointing his hair out in different directions.
“He’s Y/N’s partner”
Harry gulped, reeling his thoughts to a halt, “Partner? And the baby is...?” The last bit of confirmation was all he needed to lash his feelings out.
“Is... waiting for us at the park! Sorry H gotta go,” Gemma was swift enough to gather all the bags without having Harry chase after her. His state of confusion and shock was enough to render him partially speechless and immobile.
“Hey wait!”
Anne garnered his attention, “Oh, Mrs. Q from next door wants me over for dinner. I’m sure wants to see us both. Why don’t you get ready, Harry?” Anne tugged his arm in the direction of the staircase pushing him to stumble up a couple of steps.
Harry was confused. He made the sounds of his footsteps creeping up the wooden stairs, hearing his mum quietly talking to Gemma on the phone, “Elmsway Park, you said? How long till you're home? I’m not sure how long I can keep him occupied,”
With that being said, Harry was out of his house, silently unlocking and locking the door. He was dressed in some basketball shorts and a graphic tee, slipping on the first pair of sneakers he had tossed aside. Harry jogged to his car, typing in the name of the park on his phones’ GPS. The route was only a few minutes away so he decided to take his time, gathering his scattered thoughts along the way.
He parked just beside the playground scouting the trees around the premises. Harry decided that it was the perfect day. The sun was out. It wasn’t too humid and the birds were chirping on the branches. He could see why the playground was full of children running around in delight. The green patches of grass were partially filled with picnic blankets and food to be shared. Families laughed with each other as one in particular caught his eye.
It made him smile at first, seeing just how adorable the couple was with their baby. He exited the car, making sure to lock the vehicle. With his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his shorts, Harry could feel the tethered grass rubbing against his legs. As he got closer, he couldn’t help the twinge of familiarity spark in his chest, recognizing that what he was staring at was Connor playfully chasing a little girl of about two-years-old as she squealed at how close he was getting to tagging her.
Harry stood by a tree, shielding him away from view. He tried to appear invisible without seeming too creepy. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes found the woman he had been missing, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Connor picked up the little girl in his arms, dotting pecks all over the girls’ cheeks, causing her to giggle and push his face away with a tiny palm. And there she was standing outside the raised platform of the playground, coming up to the both of them with a juice box in hand to hydrate the little angel. Connor turned his attention to Y/N, planting the most adoring kiss on her lips that made her smile so wide and the baby cover her eyes. They laughed together, looking like a picture-perfect family.
Gemma sat on the bench, flickering her gaze to the precious family in front of her and to the figure of her brother walking away from the scene. Her heart broke for Harry, and it cracked, even more, when he turned back. This time, watching Connor and Y/N cheer on baby angel to go down the slide. Both of them clapped their hands in enthusiasm as the girl hesitantly slid down the plastic slide. The smile on her face was infectious.
It almost made Harry smile, too.
___
Let us know what you thought!
Trial aka pt 4 is already up on Patreon! (link in bio)
___
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teawaffles · 4 years ago
Text
The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 8 / End
“Hey, Helena. In the middle of the game, you suddenly went along with that guy and disappeared — where on earth did you go?”
“Hmm…… Explaining it would be a real pain. Just imagine what you like.”
The girl groaned in annoyance. “……Can’t you just tell me? Meanie.”
After the game had ended with the blue team’s victory, as he observed Helena and her former friend’s conversation from a distance, Bond spoke to William.
“Those two sure have gotten closer, haven’t they?”
William answered with a smile.
“Perhaps it’s like how after rain, comes fair weather.” [1]
“Though for the two of them, it must’ve been like a bolt from the blue, huh.”
After that modest exchange of proverbs, Bond wondered aloud.
“Moran-kun and I haven’t heard the details, but for now, can we consider the case closed without incident?”
“Yep; the perpetrator has been caught, and the threat to Helena and her family has been effectively eliminated.”
This time, the plan had been set up after William and the others leveraged their intelligence network to identify the criminal, and then shared the information they’d obtained with Helena. From his profile of Andy, William had read the man’s every move, then intentionally left him at large in order to catch him in the act — that was the entire flow of it. Hence, apart from the key players involved, the others had been told nothing more than that they would be “using the game to capture the criminal”.
William had put an end to it all. After hearing his report, Bond seemed satisfied.
“That’s great. To be honest, ever since I got caught up in the game, I’ve been thinking a little — that maybe, I haven’t actually done anything useful today.”
“Far from it; on the contrary, it’s because you took the game so seriously, that Andy dropped his guard and carried out his plan to frame Mr Kevin.”
“——So you’re saying the match between me and the old geezer was well and truly a serious one.”
Placing a hand on William’s shoulder, Moran joined the conversation. Behind him stood Jack and Albert.
Jack sighed in consternation.
“You’re quite persistent, you know. It was just one hit.”
Yet Moran was undeterred.
“Still, it’s a fact that I scored that hit. If it was a real bullet, you would’ve been a goner.”
“Wasn’t it because it wasn’t live that it managed to hit me……?”
Jack smiled wryly, and Albert spoke up in a cool voice.
“Furthermores, it’s an undeniable fact that you got hit right after. Isn’t that right, Colonel?”
“Ugh.”
Albert had been spot on, and the corners of Moran’s mouth twitched as he fell silent.
Having watched their exchange with amusement, William thanked them once again.
“I’m truly grateful to all of you for lending a hand today. Truthfully, it pained me to have involved everyone in catching just one criminal.”
Hearing that, Moran clapped him on the shoulder.
“As I said, we had fun, so it’s alright. In fact, it’s been a long time since we’ve fought one another all out, so I’m grateful for that.”
“Indeed: we’re also pleased to have had a showdown with Colonel Moran.”
“Now hold on just a minute. Don’t think you’ve won just because you caught me off guard once.”
Even now, Moran was still snapping at Albert. Seeing that, Jack spoke up in a grave tone.
“On the battlefield, even the slightest carelessness will cost you your life, Moran.”
“I’m well aware of the basics! Don’t give me those useless platitudes!”
Just like that, William and the others were engaged in an amicable conversation, when the parent and child who’d been the central figures of this case called out to them.
“Everyone: thank you very much for today.”
Having wrapped up her conversation with her friend, Helena thanked them in a light-hearted tone that was distinctively hers. Continuing from where she’d left off, Kevin stood beside his daughter as he gave the entire Moriarty household a deep bow.
“How can I ever thank you enough for this……?”
On behalf of all of them, Albert spoke.
“We have simply acted according to our sense of justice. In particular, Mr Kevin, I would like to apologise for not informing you of our plans.”
Kevin hastily shook his head.
“No no no; Lord Albert, you have nothing to feel guilty about: you all saved Helena’s and my lives.”
“That’s right — we’re really grateful for that. We’ll probably never forget this kindness.”
Upon hearing that inappropriate cockiness, Kevin admonished her at once.
“What’s this pomposity towards the people who’ve helped you? Also, you should be saying ‘definitely’ rather than ‘probably’……. Apologies; to have such an unpleasant exchange at this time…”
He bowed repeatedly as he said that. But suddenly, as he remained in a bow, Kevin looked up and asked a question.
“……Come to think of it, what happened to that man? It seems the other participants haven’t noticed anything at all.”
He was concerned about Andy Krueger’s fate. He had punched the living daylights out of the man, so much so he’d been knocked unconscious — that much Kevin himself knew, but as William and the others had taken care of the aftermath, he hadn’t heard the details of what happened after that.
“He’s now on one of our carriages, with Louis and Fred keeping an eye on him,” replied William. “We felt there was no need to blindly call in the police and spoil the fun.”
“I see……. Then, will he be taken to the police after this?”
Handing a criminal over to the police. That was what common sense dictated, but William deliberately tilted his head with a troubled expression.
“As much as we would like to, ……the nobility of this country wield an outsize influence, hence there is a concern that even judicial rulings will be twisted in their favour. If that were to happen, both of you may end up in harm’s way again. As such, we shall engage in careful negotiations, with the aim of preventing such things from ever happening again.”
A calm smile rose to William’s face, and unconsciously, Kevin gulped.
Normally, negotiating with a criminal outside the authority of the state would be out of the question. But William’s smile held a power that seemed almost divine, erasing all such doubts.
How would they deal with Andy after this? It was probably wiser not to probe into that. Anyway, it was true that they had saved both their lives. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.
The unfathomable nature of these young men made Kevin’s blood run cold. Then, William changed the topic.
“So, what are your plans from here on?”
Kevin lowered his gaze a little, and met his daughter’s eyes as she stood beside him.
“Just like before, I’m going to spend time with my children. As for the plans for the new store…… To be honest, I’m worried about going it alone, but I intend to do my best anyway.”
“Hmm — I have no idea how to manage a store, but my brother and I will be supporting Mr Kevin together. Even though I don’t look like it, I’m good with housework and stuff, you know.”
“……Is that so?”
At their words, William nodded, and a strange silence settled between the two parties.
Kevin and Helena were trying to appear relieved at having overcome great danger, but even so, it must’ve been an immense shock to learn that a person important to both of them had been murdered. That emotional wound had yet to heal, and now that fact revealed itself in the form of silence.
“U-Um……”
In a hurry, Helena tried to find the words to dispel the unpleasant atmosphere. Right then, Kevin raised his voice a little as he made an announcement.
“In any case, we’ll be alright. Somehow, I believe we’ll overcome this tragedy and move forward.”
Helena nodded along with his words, and William broke into a gentle smile.
“Indeed. I shall be praying for your family’s bright future.”
After those modest words of encouragement, William held out a clenched fist towards Kevin.
“Also, that punch was very satisfying.”
“Definitely. You socked him with all you had — I’ve seen you in a new light.”
Helena did a swift one-two as she shadow-boxed, and Kevin ruffled his hair in embarrassment.
“It was unbecoming of me. Though, I don’t regret it one bit.”
“Since you had the courage to pull that off, I’m sure you’ll do just fine from here on.”
“I’m honoured to hear that. Well then, I hope we meet again someplace else.”
As Kevin bid them farewell, Helena stood up straight and looked at William and the others in turn.
“To everyone in the Moriarty household: today, we are truly in your debt. We’ll never forget this kindness, definitely not.”
With an uncharacteristically polite tone, Helena expressed their gratitude once again, and both father and daughter left the scene with peaceful expressions.
As he sent them off, the eldest brother asked his younger sibling a question.
“——Well now, is this truly the end of it, William?”
A hint of the Lord of Crime — who was striking terror across the country — revealed itself in William’s expression as he spoke.
“Of course not: we still have the finishing touches left.”
At those words, the entire Moriarty household smiled in unison.
T/N: Helena’s story isn’t over just yet — there’s one final piece of the puzzle, and it’s a big one! Stay tuned x)
Footnotes:
[1] This is the literal translation of the proverb 雨降って地固まる — essentially, it means that good things do come out of bad things.
Translator’s notes
The Moriarty household
I’ve translated the phrase モリアーティ家 as “the Moriarty household” when it is used to address everyone in the Moriarty organisation, since “the Moriarty family” suggests that only the three brothers are being referred to.
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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago
Text
WandaNat x Reader : Safe
Summary: What is it that they say about a woman in uniform?
Warning: Violence
Word Count: 2,481
* * * * * *
“Lieutenant Colonel Y/ln.”
Hearing your name, you stand up straight, the brown paper grocery bag in your hand clutched a little tighter as you do an about-face. 
The mystery man himself, Nick Fury, steps from the shadows of your apartment buildings hallway. Right off you can tell he wants something from you, if not for him just showing up, it’s written in the smirk on his lips.
“It’s been a while Lieutenant Colonel.”
Steam billows from the mug as it fills with coffee, and after dropping a spoonful of sugar in it, you carry the mug over to Fury. Then move to lean against the wall opposite his spot on the couch.
“I don’t think I’m the fit for your special team Nicholas.” 
After you had invited the man in, he’d informed you that he wants you to join the Avengers. His reasons somewhere along the lines of you having special skills and being able to relate to a number of the people on the team. 
You’d given it a little thought as you fixed him some coffee. 
Having just left active duty, you assumed you would have some down time until your next deployment. Not that you were going to be “relaxing” anyway, but still.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He sips from the mug and sets it on the table,“ you are more than fit. And I’m certain you’d appreciate the distraction.”
You lift your head, taking in his words. They hold deeper meaning and you know what he knows. He knows you go to group therapy with other Marine Corps members, both active and retired. He knows you struggle with dealing with what you’d seen out there. 
“I have an obligation to serve my country Nicholas. That would come before your special team.” You inform him while also avoiding that topic.
He nods,“ an obligation you won’t have to neglect. The second you’re assigned for deployment you can go, until then, you’re an Avenger.”
Just like that, one meeting with the man, and you were walking up the graveled path to the Avengers compound. Fury waiting for you beside the door.
The man smiles at you,“ everyone’s inside waiting to meet you. Follow me.”
Walking into the usual meeting room, Natasha pulls a chair out for her girlfriend. Wanda smiling up at her softly.
The woman takes a seat as well, looking to Steve,“ what’re we meeting for again?” 
Steve shrugs,“ Fury didn’t go into detail.” 
Everyone in the room waits patiently for the arrival of Fury, filling the time with light chatter until the door is pulled open and the man walks in.
Eyes widen at the form that enters behind him.
Natasha’s gaze subconsciously wanders down the uniformed woman. She takes in the way the pristine navy blue and red striped pants fit her legs and the form fitting coat adorned with medals. 
Trailing up her body only to be a little shocked when she meets the woman’s striking e/c eyes. 
The two hold eye contact until Fury speaks.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Colonel Y/n Y/ln. Lieutenant these are the Avengers.” Fury gestures from the uniformed woman to the group surrounding the table.
All eyes follow you as you go around formally introducing yourself. Starting by shaking Steve Rogers hand as well as Bucky’s. Then saluting Rhodey and mentioning that it’s an honor to meet him.
When you reach her girlfriend, Natasha notices the seemingly nervous pause Wanda has, before rising and shaking your hand. She holds it a little longer, held titling to the side and Natasha knows her girlfriend is reading you.
Based off your expression, you know as well. And you let it happen. She let’s go before it becomes obvious to everyone else and with a nod you move to Natasha.
Up close the woman can’t help but appreciate how good the uniform looks on you. How the coat fits but still leaves much to imagine. 
“Natasha.” She introduces personally, shaking your hand.
Again you nod,“ it’s a pleasure.”
From there you shake Tony’s hand and Peter’s, who does so over excitedly. You then reassume your spot beside Fury.
“Lieutenant Y/ln will be joining your ranks until her next deployment. Simply lending a helping hand on missions.” Fury explains your presence.
Hands linked behind your back, you look at them all, adding,“ but only when need be. I’m not here to take anyone’s position, nor will I be overstepping.” 
Wanda’s little smile at your words isn’t missed by Natasha and she makes a mental note to ask about it later.
“In that case, let me give you the grand tour.” Tony cuts through the silence, walking over to you.
“Lead the way.” You gesture for him to walk first and follow after.
Fury leaves shortly after. In the silence, everyone non-verbally agrees to make you feel welcome unless you prove you should be treated otherwise. 
And it’s a decision that everyone is glad they make. Especially Natasha and Wanda. 
There had been an instant physical attraction toward you from the moment you walked in. That attraction grew the more they saw you and learned about you.
In the beginning the physical part led it. They would see you in the gym at the early hours in the morning, adorned in your uniform camouflage pants and a perfectly fit green t-shirt. Or in that same outfit as you ran with Steve around the compound.
It was clear that the team was growing fonder of you by the day. 
Rhodey had begun speaking with you about your served time and his only to find other common interests with you along the way. Both Steve and Bucky found your loyalty and dedication inspiration and took to that. 
Tony had grown closer to you over a conversation about his company’s departure from weapons manufacturing. You’d simply found it admirable and later became interested in what he was currently doing.
Obviously, impressionable Peter Parker was taken with everything you did. He worked out with you, asked about your service, and took a genuine interest in what you do daily in and out of the Marines. 
But Wanda and Natasha.
The two women learned about you at a slower rate than the rest of the team. For a number of reasons.
Wanda didn’t want to learn about you. Having had been so physically attracted to you the second she saw you, she made it a point to avoid you. She loves Natasha and didn’t want her seeming crush on you to get in the way of that.
Natasha mainly wasn’t sure if she should trust you. You’d come off to her as too perfect.
Personally, you thought the women didn’t take a liking to you. Which kind of sucked. Not only had they seemed like great women based off what you saw from their interactions with the team, but they were incredibly beautiful.
You knew they were together but that didn’t stop you from doing your best to be friendly toward them: speaking in passing or starting conversation when together. In the end you assumed they just didn’t want anything to do with you.
That all changed in the span of two nights.
Both being particularly hard nights for you. Where your PTSD had become too much. 
The first night, due to nightmares, you found yourself awake in the common room with a glass of straight vodka. And Natasha had found you. The far off look in your eyes was one she was familiar with and the pure human side of her carried her to you.
She’d simply sat with you. Her surprise set in when she felt your head resting on her shoulder. A conversation had barely begun between you two, one simply about nature as you both looked out the window, and you’d fallen asleep.
The second night you spent in another country.
Both yourself and Natasha, as well as Wanda, were sent on a mission in Egypt. You all settled in, ate, and went over the mission before heading to bed. 
Wanda couldn’t bring herself to sleep though. Since you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. 
Your thoughts were loud and she wasn’t trying to listen but she couldn’t ignore it. You’d sounded so scared and anxious. Both emotions she never would’ve associated with your strong and confident persona.
So there was no way she would leave you in that state by yourself. After knocking on your door, she’d offered to make you tea and the two of you sat together. When Wanda noticed that your thoughts hadn’t changed. She used your powers to calm your mind. 
As you fell asleep that night, head resting on her shoulder like you had Natasha the night before, you had no idea how hard your actions had made her fall for you.
People had always been scared of her powers and you just trusted her to use them to help you. Not a single hesitation in your eyes. 
What they didn’t know was how safe they’d made you feel in such a short time.
On your own, there was no way to get the nightmares to stop. You had always just distracted yourself when woken up by them. You’d read, watch nature, workout, and occasionally drink. But going back to sleep wasn’t a thing.
The fact that their presences were so comforting spoke to you.
It all came to a head the next day on the mission.
First having seen how good you looked in your desert camouflage uniform made their hearts flutter, something Natasha would only admit to Wanda. And then on the mission. 
Your group had been clearing the enemies base and were under heavy fire when you saw Wanda using her powers. It was clear the young woman was concentrated and so she hadn’t seen the people aiming their guns at her. 
Natasha had watched in slow motion as you ran to protect her girlfriend. Effectively taking a bullet for her as you ducked for cover and then throwing back a grenade they had thrown in the first place.
Shielding Wanda’s body from the blast sent you both crashing into the wall behind you. But you took the brunt force of it and had fallen unconscious.
Both women were beyond worried for you but had to focus on clearing the building. The second they did, they gave you their undivided attention. 
Working together, they got you back to the safe house and set out to clean your wounds. 
“Wan, remove her jacket and shirt I need to get a better look at the entry point.” Natasha instructed before going to grab a first aid kit.
It was a bit of a struggle to shred your unconscious body of your uniform but the second she did she froze.
Taking in the sight of your mostly bare torso. On both you sides sat tattoos. Tribal tattoos. Your sports bra covered the top of the tattoos that seem to start under your breasts, and stretch down below the hem of your pants.
“Staring isn’t po-” Natasha’s teasing falls short as she sees the cause of her girlfriend’s staring.
But she manages to pull herself together faster than the younger woman. Telling her to stare later because they have to help you.
After having successfully cleaned your wound, Natasha removed the bullet and thanked whatever higher power that no internal damage seemed to be done, and stitched you up.
The two showered and sat in the living room. It was clear they had a lot on their minds.
“I have feelings for her.” 
Natasha almost misses the whispered words from her girlfriend. Almost.
Sighing, she leans back into the couch.“ Me too.”
Wanda scoots closer and snuggles into Natasha’s side,“ so what do we do?”
“Tell her.” 
“Is that-”
“Tell me what?” Your groggy, slightly pained voice meets their ears and they look behind them to see you walking from your room, hand clutching your side.
You hadn’t put a shirt back on which served as a momentary distraction.
Smirking, you ease into the arm chair beside the couch,“ staring is rude.” You joke, effectively pulling them from their daze.
They see the question still in your eyes and look to each other. Should they tell you? How would you react?
“If you aren’t comfortable telling me it’s fine.” You assure, laying back with a a groan.
Wanda takes a deep breath and sits up,“ Y/n, Natasha and I know that this isn’t the most normal situation. And we know that things could always come up, especially with the chance of you being deployed-”
Natasha, seeing the confusion in your eyes, stops Wanda with a hand to her thigh,“ we have developed feelings for you.”
“We?” You’re quick to ask.
Both women couldn’t be saying they like you? Both? 
They nod.
You hum,“ what does that mean? How would it even-” you cut yourself off.
It’s silent as you all think. One solution seeming to circle all of your minds. It’s not unheard of, just unorthodox. 
“You become our partner.” Natasha finally speaks, looking at Wanda then you.
A hand raises to run through your disheveled hair,“ you mean, the three of us in a relationship.”
The smallest of smiles tugs at Wanda’s lips at the idea. Is it scary? Yes because nothing is written in stone and as she said anything could come up. But she’d still like to see where this goes.
You’re special and neither of them could deny that.
A number of thoughts run through the women’s minds when you stand and move to sit on the coffee table in front of them.
They watch cautiously as you hold your hands towards them and just as cautiously, they accept them. Instant warmth. Instant safety. All in a single touch.
“We all know this could end badly, correct?” You ask, knowing full well that it would most likely end badly for you before them.
Scooting to the edge of the couch, Wanda’s thumb strokes the back of your hand.“ We know.” She nods, confirming it with Natasha through a look.
“But we want to try.” Natasha adds, scooting closer as well.
A moment of nervous hesitation sets in. And shockingly to everyone, Wanda breaks it by moving forward to kiss you.
It’s simple, her lips pressing to yours as her free hand cups your cheek. But it’s still an incredible feeling. One you hadn’t felt in seemingly forever and one she finds similar to her first kiss with Natasha.
Said woman joking about missing all the fun and then kissing you as well. 
From there, the three of you spend an extended amount of time(after reporting back to the team) talking about what this relationship truly means. New fears linger, as to be expected, but it’s nothing compared to the anticipation and genuine trust you all have in this. 
* * * * * *
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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago
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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (END 7 + 8: Heart-throb)
"It feels pretty good to have your wish granted by someone else.”
*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (^▽^)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Reblogs and likes appreciated! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution *Will be taking a short break for one or two days for mental health reasons, so no TLs will be uploaded while I’m gone
✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★
After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…
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✩ E7 LIGHT: Rest here ✩
MC: The view's pretty nice. How about we rest here for a while?
Evan: Sure. Let's sit here then.
I followed Evan and seated myself atop a rock by the river and gave a good big stretch, easing the tension out of my slightly sore hips and legs.
The vegetation around us was a little sparser now, and the golden sunlight fell upon us in mottled spots. The river had crystal clear water. The sunlight pierced through the waves, leaving shimmering gold patterns that wavered along with the current of the river.
There were occasional grey shadows that darted through the water. I excitedly patted Evan's arm to catch his attention the moment I saw it.
MC: Look! There are fish in the river!
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Evan: There's quite a bit of them. Those look like striped bass.
MC: They're so big…
Staring at the plump and juicy-looking fishes, I suddenly became acutely aware of the snarling abyss that was my stomach as it slowly woke back up.
I never expected to get hungry just from that short trek.
Those fishes would be delicious steamed! Add soy sauce, a little wine to taste, and the meat will become tender and succulent, absolutely flavorful...
But it would also be equally good braised! Deep fry it first, then add soybean sauce, Sichuan pepper and star anise to spice it up. Then add water to let the sauce soak in, producing a flavourful, mouthwatering, aroma!
I couldn't help but swallow in anticipation. I guiltily cast a glance at Evan, hoping that he didn't notice my guilty inward musings of a glutton.
Evan: Don't tell me you're thinking whether this fish would be better braised or steamed?
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MC: ??? ...Remove the camera you installed in my brain!
Evan: Why would I need a camera? It's written all over your face.
Evan: It'll be a little hard to steam or braise anything here, but we can try grilling the fish if we have a stove to work with.
Hearing the words "grilled" and "fish", I instantly felt rejuvenated. Gone were my sore hips and aching legs.
I jumped up from the rock I'd been sitting on with a start.
MC: Grilled fish sounds good! I've got the stove! And grills! And seasonings!
Evan: Brilliant.
MC: Then there's only one thing missing… How are we going to catch the fish?
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Evan surveyed the area and pondered for a while before speaking.
Evan: There are traces of grilling being done on the ground. Someone must have grilled fish here before.
Evan: We can look around and see if there is any equipment left behind that we can make use of.
MC: Okay!
Evan and I each took one side of the river as we scoured the bank for any items that may be of use.
Soon after, I moved a patch of tall grass aside and lifted something in triumphant joy.
MC: Evan! Look at what I found! A harpoon!
Hearing me call out to him, Evan headed over. He took the rusty harpoon from me and gave it a once over.
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Evan: Sharpen it on the rocks and it should be good to go.
MC: Great!
Evan took the harpoon to the rocks and gave it a thorough sanding to get all the rust off. Soon, the once-rusty harpoon regained its sharp, deadly, metallic glint. It looked as primed as ever.
After he was done polishing it up, I excitedly picked it up. Evan looked at me in slight surprise.
Evan: You want to try?
MC: Yeah! Plus, I'm wearing a dress, so I don't have to worry about getting my pant leg wet or anything like that!
Evan took one glance at the way I was brandishing the harpoon, looking ever so eager to try my hand at it, and softened. A helpless yet tender look dyed his orbs.
Evan: Alright, but be careful not to slip.
MC: Right!
I took the harpoon to the river bank and quietly searched for my quarry.
Soon enough, a shadow slid smoothly across the water. But, it had already gotten long out of reach before I had the time to react.
I observed the waters for a while more, familiarizing myself with how the fishes moved.
When another fish appeared, I timed myself, raising the harpoon high and bringing it down hard!
The harpoon jostled the river and disturbed the dirt at the bottom of the riverbed. However, there was no fish in sight when the waters came to a standstill once more. There was only a harpoon, firmly embedded into the riverbed.
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MC: Feels like I'm swerving my hits a bit…
A small laugh came from behind as a warm hand enclosed mine, wielding the harpoon together with me. He dislodged it and returned it to my grasp with surprising ease and finesse.
Evan: It's alright. Try again.
Evan: Throw the spearhead further to prevent hurting yourself.
I nodded and took the harpoon. Soon, I took my aim at another incoming fish.
I inwardly encouraged myself: I'll get it this time!
I swung the harpoon and sent it stabbing downward. This time, I felt like I'd hit the target quite accurately!
However, the fish wiggled for a bit beneath my harpoon before speedily making its slippery escape…
MC: *Sigh*...Is it because I'm too weak?
Evan: It's because you hesitated.
MC: Hmm, maybe a little. I suddenly feel a little hesitant to deal the finishing blow when I think of how this harpoon inevitably pierces the fish’s body.
Evan: Reluctance to deal the finishing blow is only normal. How about I do it instead?
A strong wave of reluctance surged up within my heart. I swiftly hid the harpoon behind my back.
MC: Nah. I’ve only tried it twice! Give me a couple more chances and I’ll definitely be able to do it!
Evan: If you say so.
Evan: Then you'll have to be faster, and you'll have to land harder hits than that.
Evan: Or you can think of it as your enemy, or maybe someone you dislike?
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MC: Hahaha… Well, about that…
I thought about it seriously for a while, but I couldn’t think of anyone I particularly disliked.
Hence, I looked back at Evan and casually dropped him a question.
MC: I can't really think of any off the top of my head. Do you have anyone you dislike?
Evan was taken aback. His eyes were slightly lowered as if he was hiding some sort of emotion that dwelled within.
I suddenly recalled that we’d come on this trip precisely because something had happened beforehand to make him unhappy. Now, his expression only made me understand it more with stark clarity: yes, he did have someone he disliked...
MC: You don’t have to think about unhappy things! I’m sure that person’s not a good person if they’ve made even you dislike them! I’ll teach them a lesson!
Evan: Why, thank you.
With the harpoon in tow, I returned to the river bank. Reflected in my mind was none other than how Evan had reacted to my earlier question.
Just what sort of issue would trouble someone as strong as him? On that same note, just what sort of person would cause someone as powerful as him to become this restless and uneasy?
Then, a fish slowly swam into my line of sight. And it was precisely with this sort of mood that I raised the harpoon high in the air, sending it plummeting downward without a moment’s hesitation!
However, the sudden force I’d flung it down with made me lose balance as I went down with it. I felt my waist move backwards from the force as my feet slipped from beneath me...
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MC: Uwah!
Splash!
Water splashed in all directions as I slipped right into the river...
Evan: !!
Fortunately, this river wasn’t deep and only reached my waist. Evan swiftly support me as I stood up.
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Evan: Are you alright?
MC: I'm fine… my butt's just a little sore… Ow…
Evan: Slowly.
He supported me back to sit on the rock. I looked down to inspect myself. My dress was soaked and dripping water everywhere.
I gathered my dress and wrung out a load of water from it. Ah, how I’ve screwed up...
Evan: Does it hurt anywhere else?
I gathered my hair together in slight embarrassment as I shook my head.
After ensuring that I was not injured in any way or manner, Evan moved to light the stove by my feet. He then removed his jacket and placed it over my lap.
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Evan: Be careful not to catch a cold.
My stomach gave a loud rumble in protest the moment he finished. I quickly covered it in embarrassment.
Evan: Alright. Let me procure our lunch.
MC: I'll have to trouble you with it then…
Evan: It's no trouble at all.
Evan removed his glasses, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up my abandoned harpoon on the river bank.
Wrapping his jacket around myself, I looked up at him curiously.
I wonder what the CEO of Warson, ever dignified and well put-together, would look like brandishing a harpoon of steel?
❖☆———————————★❖
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Just as I was thinking about that, Evan suddenly went rigid; and I, in turn, watched him with bated breath.
His gaze seemed to be transfixed on a particular fish. His dark red eyes narrowed with intent as the light in his orbs instantly turned to a cold glint; one as sharp as a deadly blade.
He raised the harpoon, the muscles on his arms and chest rippling as they made themselves known in their usage and exuded a raw, primal, sense of power.
The sun's rays glinted off the sharp blade of the harpoon, reflecting the cold light of the forest.
I watched him in a daze. It was almost as if I was watching a formidable and ruthless beast at work after having set eyes on its prey.
I'd rarely seen Evan with such an expression on his face. A thought suddenly popped into my head out of nowhere.
Maybe this was how Evan had always dealt with his enemies; swift and ruthless.
Then, the harpoon flashed through the waters as quick as lightning.
Water splashed everywhere as a muffled thud sounded. Evan had made his quarry, no doubt.
❖☆———————————★❖
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With another slosh, the harpoon was withdrawn from the waters. A huge fish followed the length out of the water, trashing incessantly, its tail flicking to and fro.
When Evan turned to look at me, the usual warmth found in his eyes had returned.
Evan: Can you help me fetch a bucket?
I snapped out of the trance, hurriedly moving to fetch a bucket and brought it before him.
MC: You got it in a single strike! You're really awesome, Evan!
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Evan: A young lady is waiting for me, hungry and cold, after all.
Embarrassed, I stuck my tongue out at him.
He removed the fish from the harpoon and dumped it into the bucket before returning to the river bank.
Following his return, the harpoon made continuous sounds as it pierced through the waters again and again. His actions grew increasingly precise, and I could tell that he was trying to let out some steam with how much strength he packed into each stab.
Soon, he managed to spear another two fish out of the river. They were both huge and plump, and he seemed to be much more relaxed when he turned back around again.
He knelt down and weighed his spoils with satisfaction.
Evan: The biggest catch weighs nearly 2kg. It should be enough for us.
Afterwards, he neatly killed the fish by the bank before putting them all on the grilling rack. I brushed the fish meat with the barbecue sauce that I'd brought.
The stove burned ever so strongly, and the place was instantly doused with the delicious aroma that rose into the air alongside the smoke. I rubbed my hands in anticipation, so excited about it that I couldn't quite sit still.
The fishes were finally cooked. I quickly took a bite out of it, leaning back in satisfaction as I did.
MC: How fresh! This is too delicious! You should try some too, Evan!
Evan: Sure. Careful not to burn yourself on it.
Saying so, he too, took a piece of the fish and brought it to his mouth. Under my watchful gaze, he gave it a serious chew or two as he contemplated the taste. Eventually, he gave a nod of approval.
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Evan: Mmhm. Your sauce does a mean job too.
MC: Not bad, right? This is my personal recipe!
MC: With the fish you caught and my speciality sauce, these fish taste way better than any I've ever had in high-end restaurants!
Evan: We can always eat this again whenever you want to, so long as you're willing.
I nodded, unwittingly flashing him a smile, almost as if making a silent promise to him that we most definitely would.
MC: Have you ever gone fishing, Evan? You technically score full marks in wilderness survival!
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Evan: I once lived out in the wild for a while at a time in the past, after all. But, I never had a harpoon back then, so today's my first time using one.
MC: Then you must be a naturally born hunter!
MC: I felt like you were exuding a predatory area when I saw you fishing earlier!
MC: How should I put this… It's as if you'll definitely catch the prey you set your eyes on.
MC: Unlike me… *Sighs*...
Evan: Why the sudden sigh?
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MC: Well… I just thought that I'd put up a rather disappointing performance today.
MC: I was the one who got all enticed by the tasty-looking fish, but in the end, not only was I unable to spear a single one, but I've also rendered myself into a right state.
MC: The cat depicted in the cat emote pack online's definitely me. "Small, pitiful, and weak, but eats a whole lot like Tubbs"!
Evan smiled and shook his head. He rested his big hand on my head.
Evan: I don't think this is a fair comparison.
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Evan: A kitten won't help me deal with the people I dislike, but that throw of yours earlier was one done with all your might behind the harpoon.
Evan: It makes me feel like I've met someone whom I can entirely trust.
His tone suddenly turned tender and very soft. So soft, that it was almost as if he had all his guards down; but so heavy, that it was as if he'd placed all his trust into it.
It was akin to a small drop of honey, the vicious liquid slowly spreading through my heart.
MC: Of course… I'll always be your most reliable buddy, ever!
MC: But, I'll be happier if I can really be of help to you!
Evan: You've already helped me plenty.
Evan: Next time I have to deal with them, all I have to do is to remember how brave you were and draw strength from that.
I froze. The only thing that my helpful brain provided was the image of me slipping right into the river, butt first. I panicked, instantly setting my chopsticks down.
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MC: No! Forget that terrible throw I made earlier! Vanquish the thought!
I laughed as I ate, making a fuss of it all. Before we knew it, all the fish on the grilling rack had been swiped clean.
I embarrassedly put the chopsticks away, awkwardly coming to the realization that I was, in fact, not full yet.
70% filled is still considered full… I inwardly hesitated, mentally debating with myself. I was so absorbed in it that I failed to notice how Evan had a clear view of the expression that flickered across my face yet again.
Evan: I'll go catch some more fish to grill.
MC: Uh… About that… I'm sure the fish meat gets digested quickly! I'm sure that's just what it is!
Evan: No worries.
Evan: The charcoal fire's still going strong and it's still early before sundown. Plus, your dress isn't completely dry either.
Evan: We have more than enough time to slowly eat here, and we can do it until you're full and satisfied.
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Evan: And as for just how many fishes you ate… I'll make sure to keep it a secret for you.
MC: Wha?
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MC: Evan! I never pegged you for one before, but are you actually up to no-good!?
Evan: I'm being serious here.
Evan: It lifts my spirits whenever I see you eat.
Evan: It makes me feel like there's no simpler pleasure than that.
⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹
After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…
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★ E8 NIGHT: Walk a while more before resting ★
MC: I'm good. Besides, it'll be hard to get going again once we sit, so how about we carry on a little while more and see how it goes?
Evan: You're here for fun, so you don't have to be so hard on yourself.
But he'd probably seen the determination colouring my eyes, for he immediately added on to his previous sentence.
Evan: But I'll listen to the leader.
MC:  Hehe. Now that's more like it.
❖☆———————————★❖
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We continued our trek deeper until the forest. Enamoured by the various sights and sceneries, the sky had turned dark long before I knew it.
Evan: Let's find a place to put up the tent. I think this place is pretty suitable.
MC: Okay!
We chose a location with a wide expanse of flat ground. Then, we set about executing the next step of the plan: set up the tent.
I took the tent from my bag, spreading it out on the ground.
First, we had to insert the two rods into the tarpaulin sheet. Then, we had to insert each end of the pole into the small hole on each corner of the tent.
However, this tarpaulin sheet was just way too big. One corner came loose right after I secured the other.
I tried my hardest to spread my arms as far as they could go, but it was still a struggle to secure both ends of the pole at the same time. I fought valiantly, only to end up covered in sweat from my moot attempts.
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MC: This is the only time I hate having short limbs…
Evan: Let me help you.
I looked back in surprise. Evan had already returned from fetching water by the river.
He put the bucket down and came up behind me, spreading his arms and holding the curved poles in place with ease.
However, doing so made our positions very close to one another.
His arms were warm, firm, and much longer than my own; long enough to entrap me within when he spread it out horizontally like that. Adding on to that, our clothes were both slightly damp and sticking to our skin. I could acutely feel the faint rise and fall of his chest from behind.
The surroundings seem to be growing warmer, and I felt an inexplicable sense of panic.
Evan: You just have to pin the four corners down.
MC: Okay...
I fumbled as I ducked out of the cage of his arms, putting the rods into the small holes.
❖☆———————————★❖
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With Evan's help, the tent was soon set up in no time at all.
Afterwards, we ignited the kerosene lamp again and set up a simple table and chairs. And thus, our little fort out in the wild was finally complete.
Everyone has an innate love of small secluded private spaces at least once in their lives. Looking at our small lodging, I felt a sense of joy well up from the confines of my heart.
MC: Evan, let's go in and have a look inside!
I couldn't wait to delve right inside. It was only after I'd spun a full round in fascination that I realized Evan was still standing outside.
That's not right. How could I have fun all by myself? The goal of coming here today was to make Evan happy!
I thought of a way to nudge Evan into action. A light bulb lit in my head.
MC: Evan, I'm the leader today, so you'll do everything I say, right?
Evan: Yes. What do you want to do?
MC: I want to play a game.
MC: I'll be your personal Doraemon for the day. I'll help you fulfil any wishes you want!
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A flicker of surprise passed his face.
Evan: Why do you want to play a game like that?
I pulled him along with me, sitting him down on a chair before sitting right across him.
MC: You've always been my Doraemon, so today, let me enjoy the joy of giving just this once.
Evan: I mean, it's not like you can't; but, what are you sure you want to be doing that here?
MC: Challenges only make it that much more interesting! Feel free to shoot any request you may have!
Unable to ignore my insistence on this matter, he folded his arms and lapsed into thought.
Evan: Then I'll just make a random wish… I want this tent to look prettier.
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MC: Gotcha! Leave it to me!
This was probably the first time Evan had ever wished anything of anyone…
And now, the one to listen to his wishes was no one but me… Thinking this, the yearning to fulfil his wishes for him only burned ever stronger.
I suddenly remembered how I'd brought a string of small, colourful, fairy lights with me; if only because I'd seen someone decorate their tent with it online some time before!
I held my excitement in check as I rummaged through my bag for the fairy lights, connected the battery to the string of light and turned it on. Then, I flashed it before Evan.
MC: Ta-daaaa! Look!
❖☆———————————★❖
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It was well into the night. Dishing out the fairy lights in peak darkness lit up our surroundings in a dazzling array of colours.
Evan widened his eyes in surprise, gently taking the fairy lights from me and scrutinizing them.
Evan: You actually bought fairy lights? You're a competent Doraemon, all right.
The bedazzling lights shone on our faces, adding a couple more watts to his smile.
Evan lowered his eyes, seemingly lost in his memories.
Evan: You know, these fairy lights remind me of the New Year holidays.
Evan: I walked on the streets and saw the doors of many families decorated with fairy lights like these.
Evan: Celebratory and homey… I really adore it.
Watching Evan's wary manner of carefully selecting his words, I couldn't help but feel my heart clench slightly.
Maybe… this was what he imagined home to be like…
However, he quickly snapped back to reality, his gaze falling to the fairy light before us once more.
Evan: The workmanship of these fairy lights are very intricate, and each bulb is shaped differently.
MC: Yeah. Look, this one’s a small pepper and this one’s a little eggplant...
Evan: Yes. And this one here. This one looks like you; the little rabbit.
MC: It really is a rabbit! You've got some keen observation skills.
MC: But, why am I the only animal? That sounds a little lonely…
Evan: You won't be lonely; because the one right beside the little rabbit's me.
Evan spread his arms, displaying the light bulb beside the little rabbit on the string of lights. But, all I saw was a red ball of light there.
MC: And what does this one look like? I can't really tell
Evan: It doesn't matter what it looks like; because I'm the only one who will stay by the little rabbit's side, regardless.
Although his smile was much warmer in the light, his tone still held an undeniable wistfulness.
I felt an odd sense of panic, but I didn't feel like fleeing from it.
❖☆———————————★❖
Eventually, we put the fairy lights up on the tent.
The constantly flickering and changing lights made the tent look cuter, and much more lovely. It felt like home.
I watched as Evan entered the tent, settling himself comfortably within, his eyes narrowing into happy little slits in a closed-eyed smile. Seeing him this relaxed made my heart fill with joy.
MC: Time for your next wish, Evan!
Evan: Are we continuing? I'm already pretty satisfied.
MC: The game's only just started! You can be a little more willful; just like a little kid!
I gently tugged at his arm, softly coaxing him into giving in.
Getting him to relax was no easy feat; and now, I was finally seeing a glimmer of hope! I can't let it go to waste!
Evan: Alright, one more then.
MC: I'll say this first, but you're forbidden from wishing for something overly simple! I'm Doraemon; you've gotta put your trust in me!
Evan: Okay. Then I want to drink hand-brewed coffee.
He levelled a calm gaze at me, seemingly waiting for me to admit defeat; but I only smiled triumphantly.
MC: Just you wait and see!
I knew that Evan loved coffee, so I’d brought some ground coffee powder along with a set of simple brewing tools.
I lit the stove, boiled a pot of hot water, and slowly poured it into the filter where I’d placed the powder, balanced atop an empty cup, going in circular motions. Soon, a cup of fragrant hand-brewed coffee was made.
I handed the cup of coffee to Evan. He lowered his head to give the aroma a whiff, a pleased smile appearing on his face.
Evan: A fragrance that I love.
Evan: But it's missing a little something.
He then moved to personally make a similar cup for me. We both sat down across each other, nursing our cups of coffee and taking small sips from it.
Even while sitting on a foldable chair, the way he drank his coffee was still as elegant as ever.
The forest was silent. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of intermittent chirping of the insects hidden within the foliage, adding to the relaxed and leisurely atmosphere.
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MC: Evan, don’t you think that it’s been a long time since we’ve stepped away from the bustling city life to simply spend time together like this, thinking about nothing?
MC: You seem busy lately. I'm honestly a little concerned if you actually have time to wind down…
Evan: Thank you for your concern. I do have the time to do so once in a while.
He raised the cup of coffee in his hand.
Evan: This is the aroma I settle down with every lunch break, to watch a movie, or to read a book.
MC: Right, I often do the same as well.
A flicker of thought entered my mind, and I immediately latched on.
MC: I know! I've helped you think of your next wish!
Evan: Oh? And what is it?
I smiled mysteriously at him, turning around to rummage through my bag.
I happened to bring a book along with me today, so I searched the contents of my bag for it, pulling it out and handing it to him.
He ran his fingers across the gold-gilded text that had been printed onto the book cover. After a while, he suddenly returned the book to me. I raised my head in slight surprise, only to see the slight smile hidden in the corner of his eyes.
Evan: If that's how it is, then could I trouble you to read a paragraph for me?
MC: Sure.
Opening the book, I picked out a story that was about the forest and slowly started reading aloud.
It was seemingly enough to please him. He held onto his coffee, slowly leaning into the soft pillow, closing his eyes in satisfaction.
After finishing a paragraph, I closed the book, only to find him staring at me seriously. There was a fire flickering within his crimson orbs.
Evan: You know, I actually like this story a lot.
Evan: The first time I read this book, I imagined myself in the protagonist’s shoes.
Evan: Riding a small boat in a remote and secluded river, letting the current take me wherever it goes.
Evan: Expecting nothing, with no destination in mind. It doesn’t matter if I get stuck in a rapid, or if I’m just turning around in place.
MC: Sounds romantic enough. What happened after? Did you ever try doing so?
Evan: Not yet. Later, I ended up coming to the forest many times, but unfortunately, none of it was to seek recreation.
Evan: Which means, this is my first time.
Evan: So, thank you; for making this a memorable night for me.
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He seemed a little tuckered out, and his voice was as soft as a mere whisper. His eyes were slowly fluttering shut as he spoke.
His eyelashes slid down as his eyes closed, casting a faint shadow on his features. I quietly observed how picturesque he looked like that as I thought back to everything he’d just said. A new plan was born within my heart.
Perhaps this wish was something that I could truly fulfil for him.
❖☆———————————★❖
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The next morning, at exactly 5 AM. I was roused from my slumber as my alarm clock rang.
I gave a big wide stretch, casting a glance at Evan. Thankfully enough, he hadn’t been awoken by the alarm and was still curled up in the sleeping bag next to be, fast and soundly asleep.
After doing a simple wash up, I quietly exited the tent.
We passed by a commercial campground yesterday while searching for a suitable campsite. It provided rental services of a wide variety of camping equipment.
That’s why my first thought had been this place when I heard Evan mention boating last night. Hence, I contacted them and reserved an inflatable kayak.
With the help of my mobile GPS navigator, I walked the forest for about half an hour before I finally arrived at the campsite.
After waiting outside for a good long while, the owner whom I’d previously made an appointment with came up to me in a right state of panic.
Campsite Owner: Sorry! Some trouble cropped up, so I’m late…
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MC: Don’t worry about it. What happened though? Do you need any help?
Campsite Owner: Can I bother you? If so, then yes please! I’ll tell you what happened…
After a while, I handed a trembling kitten to the owner.
It began rolling about as soon as it returned to its owner’s arms, acting like a baby as it rubbed itself against the owner’s palm, as if expressing regretfulness for its actions.
MC: The little guy must have been scared out of its mind.
Campsite Owner: Yeah. Thank you so much, Miss! I have no idea what I'd have done without you.
MC: Don't worry about it. It's no big deal.
When I came to the campsite earlier, the owner had been in the middle of a cat problem. It had climbed to the top of the tree without anyone's notice and didn't dare come down.
It had been meowing helplessly at the very top. Hence, I immediately joined the rescue effort without a second thought.
I hear that it had already been stuck up the tree for about 10 hours or more. We didn't have a tall enough ladder, so it took a great amount of improvisation to finally save the poor kitten.
Campsite Owner: Oh, right. J nearly forgot your kayak. This isn't light, though! Can you carry it alone?
MC: Huh?
I stepped forward to test its weight. The folded inflatable kayak was indeed heavier than I expected. But thinking about how Evan would react upon seeing this kayak, I suddenly felt that this extra weight meant absolutely nothing in comparison.
Campsite Owner: *Sigh* Since you've helped me, I ought to repay you the favour by lugging this back for you. But I've still got appointments later so I really can't afford to leave...
Campsite Owner: Rental's free of charge then! Have fun with it!
MC: It's alright, I can just take my time carrying it back. Thank you!
After bidding my farewells to the owner, I took the kayak with me and left the campsite.
I hadn't made it fat when my arms started feeling sore. All I could do was to put the kayak on the ground and take a short breather.
As I spaced out, I suddenly heard a muffled sound coming from within the depths of the forest.
My ears tuned in to the sound in full alert. Whatever that was, it was by no means small. 
Was it an animal? Or was it someone?
The crunching sound of leaves approached closer and closer. Now, I could tell without a doubt that those footsteps were most definitely human. And it sounded a little rushed; panicked, even.
Feeling a little uneasy, I couldn’t help but stand back up.
Then, a familiar figure emerged from the dense forest.
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MC: …Evan!?
He seemingly breathes out a long sigh of relief upon spotting me. He quickly strode up to me.
Evan: I finally found you, at least.
Evan: I woke up in the morning to find you missing, and you never picked up even when I called. I was worried sick.
He looked as calm and unruffled as ever at first glance. The only difference was that he seemed a little out of breath.
This place isn’t close to our campsite at all. How long has he been searching for me out in the woods?
Thinking about it made me feel a little guilty.
I ended up telling him briefly about the unexpected situation I’d encountered in the commercial camp and everything before that.
MC: I left really early. I initially thought that I’d be back before you woke up, but I never thought that I’d take that long to get back...
MC: I’ve been busy this entire time so I didn’t have the time to check my phone. Sorry for worrying you.
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Evan: It's okay. Just… Don't leave my side without saying anything next time, alright?
I nodded and lowered my eyes in embarrassment. Unexpectedly, I then noticed that he’d buttoned a button near the hem of his dress shirt wrong.
Having never seen Evan disregard his appearance in this manner before, I very nearly failed to suppress my snort of laughter.
Evan: Hm? What's the matter?
I shook my head, undoing that button and rebuttoning it right. It was only then that he noticed his slight gaffe. He laughed at his own mistake.
Evan: …Thank you.
Looking into his eyes, I couldn't hold back the urge to ask him the one thing that had been nagging at my mind.
MC: This place is not anywhere close to our campsite. How did you know I was here?
Evan: I couldn't contact you in the morning, so I searched around the tent to see if you left anything resembling a note behind.
Evan: I remembered that you seemed interested in this place when we passed by it yesterday, so I thought that maybe this was where you'd gone.
I hadn’t expected him to see completely through me as he cast a glance at the kayak on the ground.
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MC: *Sigh* Why did you figure everything out like that? I wanted to surprise you!
Evan: Don't worry about it. This is also a surprise in and of itself, don't you think? Thank you for all the effort you've put in.
Evan: It feels pretty good to have your wish granted by someone else.
He gently took my hand in his, enveloping my palm in his bigger one, transmitting his unusual body warmth.
Evan: But I also want you to know that just you being by my side's more than enough for me.
My train of thought was disrupted by his tender gaze, making it hard for me to gather my thoughts together.
MC: But I don't think that's enough.
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MC: You’re always taking care of others and listening to their wishes, but you can’t forget yourself and your wishes.
MC: I want to hear more of your wishes. You can always be a little greedier when you’re with me, Evan...
He looked at me for a fleeting second before suddenly closing in on me. He only stopped when my figure was completely enshrouded within his shadow.
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Evan: Then, can I be greedy one last time?
MC: Huh…?
Not waiting for me to give him an answer, he advanced a step forwards, pulling me into a hug.
His arms were solidly wound around me, and the fragrance of wormwood that came with his embrace was lasting and stronger than ever.
The strength behind his action made it hard for me to reject him, hard for me to escape. 
Oddly enough, I felt a little intoxicated by it, slowly closing my eyes.
❖☆———————————★❖
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The next day, early morning. I woke up to the melodious singing of birds.
Evan was already awake, neatly dressed and sitting on the folded chair at the entrance, sipping on a cup of coffee.
Evan: Good morning. Sleep well last night?
MC: Brilliantly! I was so tired from walking so long yesterday that I fell asleep the moment my head met the pillow.
MC: Oh, right. It’ll take quite a long time to go back where we came, so let’s eat something, pack up, and leave as soon as possible!
Evan set his cup of coffee down,
Evan: Aren’t you forgetting something?
MC: Huh?
Evan: I recall you wanting to see bamboo piths, but we have yet to see any.
I froze, awkwardly laughing it off
That had originally been an excuse to get him outside and I’d totally forgotten about it.
MC: Hehe. I’m not that adamant about seeing bamboo piths.
MC: I only said that back then as an excuse to get you out so that you can relax.
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MC: I heard that you had things rather rough before that so I was a little worried about you.
He looked slightly surprised. Then, he lowered his eyes, a warm smile catching onto the sides of his mouth.
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Evan: So it was because of me.
Evan: Thank you for accompanying me here. I’m certainly much more relaxed now.
MC: But considering how you were previously… Are you really okay?
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Evan: Yes. It’s probably not as bad as you’re thinking. I was just thinking about some old people and old things and felt a little glum about it.
Evan: I never thought that I’d end up alarming others.
MC: Why am I “others” now?
MC: Don’t bottle your troubles up to solve them yourself. You need to remember to share them with people close to you as well!
Evan: Okay. I will keep that in mind.
I still didn’t know what he was troubled by, but I suppose this was still within my expectations.
From my impression of him, he has always been strong. It was almost as if he was shouldering a mission that no one knew about, walking down a similarly obscured path.
After finishing breakfast, we packed and prepared to leave the forest.
We idly chatted with each other along the way until suddenly, Evan stopped short while we were passing through an area.
Following his gaze, I saw a unique-looking umbrella-shaped thing growing within the shrubbery’s shade.
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Evan: See? We still managed to chance upon it.
MC: Wow, are all of these bamboo piths?
We walked over together, squatting beside the small white fungi.
It had a small black cap and had grown out a long white mesh skirt.
This was the first time I ever saw a bamboo pith growing in the soil. I widened my eyes in surprise, unwilling to blink as I drank in the sight. After observing it for a while, I finally raised a finger, reaching out to touch its “skirt”.
MC: It’s so wet and soft-looking! It’s adorable! Have you seen it before, Evan?
MC: I can’t believe you managed to recognize it at a glance!
Evan: Yes. It was back during the first time I’d been driven into the forest as a child.
Evan: I witnessed the law of the jungle and escaped from the jaws of death of a snake. I felt like the forest was a place filled with danger and wanted nothing but to leave the place the faster, the better.
Evan: Then, just as I was hungry and exhausted, I saw a bamboo pith.
Evan: At that time, I didn’t know what it was and if it was actually poisonous.
Evan: Deep in the throes of despair, I thought “why not just take it, eat it, and see what my fate turns out to be”?
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MC: Evan…
Evan: But guess what I saw while I was hesitating?
Evan: I saw it growing its fungus skirt. All it took was a little effort on its part, and its little skirt grew longer and longer.
Evan: I stared at it blankly, in a daze. I didn’t even notice that my legs had gone numb from how long I’d stared at it.
He retracted himself from his memory palace, turning around to face me with a smile.
Evan: It was as simple as a little young lady, capable of encouraging me with its adorability and enchantments.
Evan: It made me understand that forest, in all its gloom and doom, still has its own little interesting spots.
Evan: And that one is only capable of seeing it by living on, don’t you think?
His expression was quiet, but within those calm eyes of his, I could see that little boy who’d struggled his hardest to remain strong. I felt my heart constrict slightly at that and moved to hold his hand tightly in my own.
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MC: Evan, that’s all in the past. You’re no longer that helpless little boy.
Evan: No, I’m fine.
Evan: I might have forgotten even this if we hadn’t seen the bamboo piths today.
Evan: It feels a little unbelievable when I think back on it now. It was a memory plagued by darkness, yet it still held its own beautiful moments.
I felt a pang of sorrow creep into my heart. Words of comfort were right at the tip of my tongue, yet I felt like they’d be completely helpless.
This man before me, strong as a warrior; someone who’d been forced to face life-or-death decisions from a very young age… Maybe he wasn’t as complicated as I initially thought he was.
There are many reasons why one would choose death, but to choose life? The reason was simple; just a little spark was required, and Evan was no exception.
MC: I forgot who said it, but someone once said that the meaning of existence that people spend their entire lives seeking out is actually hidden in the simple things.
MC: Evan, won’t you say that you might end up thinking similarly as well one day?
MC: You might not be able to find it immediately, but that’s fine. I will accompany you in your search for it, no matter how long it takes.
Evan fixed me with a profound look before stretching out his hand and reverently crossing it over my own.
Evan: Alright. Together we shall be.
⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹
✥ Choose your Ending:
END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]
END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹
END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹
END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★
❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖
Previous Part: (Prologue)
47 notes · View notes
lesbiansforboromir · 4 years ago
Note
If a person wanted to write Boromir fic, do you have any tips on how to capture the Tolkieny tone in writing/best scenes to re-read for characterization?
LET ME SEE if I can’t compile a nice guide for you;
First thing’s first! Boromir does not include his own feelings into his statements unless it’s utterly against his will, such as the ring-controlled scene. In fact his discussion with Frodo is the first and last time he expresses his emotions verbally at all and even then it seems to be squeezed out of him in the midst of his ranting ‘how it ANGERS me’ like he is almost shocked at how angry he actually is in that moment, so much so that he can’t hold it back like normal. 
‘I am’ statements in general don’t come often either. He doesn’t use ‘I’ at all if he can help it. If he is describing the war or some conflicts or battles, he uses ‘us’ or ‘we’ ‘Some said that it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came a madness filled our foes, but fear fell on our boldest, so that horse and man gave way and fled. Only a remnant of our eastern force came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath. 'I was in the company that held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us. Four only were saved by swimming: my brother and myself and two others.’ Here he mentions himself only as an explanation for the circumstances, and goes quickly back to talking as a collective. (This is the first and last time he mentions Faramir too, and never by name)
The times when Boromir uses ‘I’ statements most is for defining his own actions and intent or when he is offering advice. 'I have let my horn cry at setting forth, and though thereafter we may walk in the shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night.' He is clear to himself and others about what he will and won’t accept. 'I will add a word of advice, if I may,' said Boromir. 'I was born under the shadow of the White Mountains and know something of journeys in the high places. We shall meet bitter cold, if no worse, before we come down on the other side. It will not help us to keep so secret that we are frozen to death. When we leave here, where there are still a few trees and bushes, each of us should carry a faggot of wood, as large as he can bear.' Note here he is also polite but in a confident manner. ‘If I may’ is added to acknowledge that he is not the leader of the company, but he is not shy with offering his advice and assuming it useful. 
When he’s in more familiar and less strict circumstances, and actually sometimes even when he isn’t, Boromir has what I would call a... hint of sarcasm in his tone at all times. He’s always got a little sardonic wit with him,  `Let those call it the wind who will; there are fell voices on the air; and these stones are aimed at us.' See? It’s not... OVERT but it’s definitely a little long suffering/etc. Boromir... talks like an old man I guess is my point. 'What do you say to fire?' asked Boromir suddenly. 'The choice seems near now between fire and death, Gandalf. Doubtless we shall be hidden from all unfriendly eyes when the snow has covered us, but that will not help us.' ESPECIALLY when he’s talking to Gandalf, there’s just a bit of dark humour and ‘cheek’. `I do not know which to hope,' said Boromir grimly: `that Gandalf will find what he seeks, or that coming to the cliff we shall find the gates lost for ever. All choices seem ill, and to be caught between wolves and the wall the likeliest chance. Lead on!' jhadsjd BITCHY... but very funny and he’s right. And here also, ‘wolves and the wall’, he tends towards almost... poetic isn’t quite the word but he likes sayings and flowing dialogue. 
Continuing on from that point, Boromir is also generally... not WARM but he’s got a way of speaking that is comfortable and confident in comradery. Especially with Gimli, actually, he often makes these lighter sighed statements that have a lick of humour to them. Again, it’s never particularly overt, more of a constant underlying note in his wording, even in the latter parts of the fellowship. `Ah, it is as I said,' growled Gimli. 'It was no ordinary storm. It is the ill will of Caradhras. He does not love Elves and Dwarves, and that drift was laid to cut off our escape.' 'But happily your Caradhras has forgotten that you have Men with you,' said Boromir, who came up at that moment. `And doughty Men too, if I may say it; though lesser men with spades might have served you better.’ This is one of my favourite lines of his it’s just like... confident, not over proud, you can hear him grinning and the leetle wry tone he’s speaking in. Even here! In like the very last days of his life, he still has this quality! 
We might labour far upstream and yet miss it in the fog. I fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we can from here.' `That would not be easy, even if we were all Men,' said Boromir.     `Yet such as we are we will try it,' said Aragorn.  'Aye, we will,' said Gimli. `The legs of Men will lag on a rough road, while a Dwarf goes on, be the burden twice his own weight, Master Boromir! ' (later) 'Well, here we are, and here we must pass another night,' said Boromir. `We need sleep, and even if Aragorn had a mind to pass the Gates of Argonath by night, we are all too tired-except, no doubt, our sturdy dwarf.'     Gimli made no reply: he was nodding as he sat.
AND ANOTHER THING. Whilst Boromir CAN be an orator and give long speeches, he tends towards economy of speech. This is especially noticeable, again, between him and Gandalf. Gandalf will go on for three paragraphs about something, patronising him, explaining a lot of unnecessary stuff to sound clever. And then Boromir will just answer with; `We do not know what he expects,' said Boromir. `He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case to enter Moria would be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gates of the Dark Tower itself. The name of Moria is black.' And that’s it! AND HE’S FFUCKIN RIGHT GGSHAHGS
So you’re usually going to be trying to narrow down his speech to it’s bare essentials in order to get the point across and nothing more. Stream lined, impersonal, confident and clear are the hallmarks of Boromir’s speech patterns. NO. SHOUTING. Unless to be heard or in a brief flash of shock, immediately restrained afterwards. Actually if Boromir has any kind of outburst, he tends to walk away from whatever situation caused it rather than allow anything to escalate. Boromir’s verbal tone is almost always neutral, wry or reassuring/comfortable. From experience, I can tell you this is... GRUELLING to write. You want so desperately for him to say what he’s thinking and feeling, what’s important to him, but he’s utterly incapable unless briefly possessed by evil. Not even when he’s literally dying will this change, though that might be because it was Aragorn at his deathside. Which brings me onto my final point.
We actually have no idea how Boromir might interact with people he actually likes and is friends with, let alone his family. I’m inclined to believe that warm comradery element just becomes more overt but little else changes. But you’re entirely at liberty to decide for yourself. Certainly though it is different from how he behaves throughout the fellowship. We never really meet Boromir... is a thought I can hardly bare so we’re STOPPING now. 
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shini--chan · 4 years ago
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Hello there, I honestly love the way you write everyone (especially yandere Prussia) I was wondering what if the reader really underestimated Prussia and Veneziano? As if thinking of them as a weak and a careless nation? Trying to fight and degrade them? Please write about it IF you can love 💕 Take care!
All I can say is: Thank you for sending in this neat ask.
Yandere Hetalia – Obfuscation
Italy
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“I don’t think you understand. Your word against mine isn’t enough for black mail”, you voiced your doubts. Reasonable doubts, for somebody so young. A young being that understood as well as knew so little of the workings of the world. He could forgive you for that. Ignorance wasn’t a sin, rather a liability. One that would cost you so much.
Feli chuckled softly and wore a smile to match, as sweet as the cantuccini that he had just been dipping into the bitter rose wine he had ordered. Taking a bite from the alcohol soaked treat, he relished in the bittersweet taste that unfolded. In a way, it mirrored the situation.
“Oh bella. When it hasn’t been sword against sword it has always been word against word. My word is more than enough”, he quipped good naturedly, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface. Your brows furrowed, your features distorting into an expression of incomprehension. Really, it nearly caused him to laugh. However, unlike you, he possessed a decent amount of tact.
Shaking your head, you insisted: “Doesn’t matter how you honey up your words. If it’s your word against mine that’s not enough for decent blackmail. You need evidence.”
You were wise enough to keep your voice down. While you both were in a restaurant on his turf, speaking quietly in quick English, one couldn’t be too careful. Feli knew well enough on how his people loved to gossip and on how reputation mattered so much more than in the Anglosphere. On the other hand, you couldn’t lash out against him without being looked down upon in the aftermath.
“No, I just need to be more convincing than you”, he retaliated. When you shook your head again in denial, he couldn’t help but sigh. Of course, he was holding a Damocles sword over your head, and you just were so unwilling to comprehend. Maybe he would have to make true on some of his threats, just to get a point across. After all, a burnt child dreads the fire.
 Italy would be used to people underestimating him. After all, he wouldn’t be much of a soldier, preferring diplomacy over warfare. Everybody has simply forgotten that he once held all the strings. Not that he could blame them; he was very discreet about in the past, always operating from the shadows.
In a way, your behaviour would both infuriate and delight him. Infuriate, because your lack of insight would be cringe-worthy in his eyes and would ask himself how somebody could be so blind. Delight, because that would give him the opportunity to dig a ditch to trap you in without you suspecting a single thing.
He would get it. He wouldn’t come across as having a spin of steel or of having the ambitions that would lead him to cultivating diplomatic expertise. Feli would be quick to spill tears, whether out of genuine emotion or as part of an act, and that is usually seen as a staple for weakness. You would probably underestimate him to such an extreme extent that he could tell you the raw truth and you wouldn’t believe.
Despite any misgivings he would have, he wouldn’t hesitate to back in a corner if you wouldn’t behave – as in slandering your name, using his contacts to have you demoted, rejected, pushed aside, cancelled and so on. He would be your only solace, the only person in the world that could help you. Feliciano would offer your protection and a way to re-establish yourself in society. It would all depend on how much you would love him.
 Prussia
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Gilbert turned around the corner to find you fiddling with the door, or better said the lock of the door. You were sticking hair pins in it, twisting the upper one this way and that, muttering furiously. The curses that were flying from your mouth were of the grave sort that would make even a potty-mouthed, seasoned-soldier blush. Which Gilbert was.
Taking a few steps forward, he then cleared his throat noisily, making you abruptly turn around. Your eyes were wide blown, like a deer that had decided the best method to deal with the approaching head lights would be to stare them down. However you promptly wiped the sheepish look of your face and straightened your back.
“What are you doing?”, he asked, making sure you make his words sharp. The answer lay at hand but the whole point was to make you feel guilty about what you were doing. Besides that, an entrée was needed.
“I am leaving”,  you announced defiantly, a smug grin on your face.
“Not on my watch.”
“Then just look away”, you countered snidely, the most unbearable expression on your visage as you drew out the syllables. “Out of sight, out of mind.”
He nearly flinched. Obviously, he had rubbed off on you a bit and in this case it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Because of that, he sneered: “Don’t be unbearable. You’re staying, the end.”
“Well, if I am so unbearable, isn’t it high time for me to leave?”
Gilbert rolled his eyes at your antics. Enough was enough and a good talking to about your actions wouldn’t do. Therefor he told you: “Yes, high time to leave your foolish plans and get a proper spanking.”
He stepped forward to grab you, but you danced out of his reach, fists raised in front of your face in a familiar stance. A boxing stance, one that he used often. Shame really, and here he had thought you had been admiring his gorgeous physique whenever you had watched him train.
“I’ll fight you”, you hissed. This caused him to smile, tauntingly.
“Oh really?”
Your answer was to punch forward, aiming for his nose. Unlucky for you, he stepped aside, causing you to overreach and lose your balance. You face-planted the floor in one of the most ungraceful manners he had ever observed. Before you could stand up, he placed a foot on your nape – just enough that it was uncomfortable, but not enough to throttle you.
If anything, Gilbert would find your attempts amusing. He has lived through countless wars, went from sword to musket to gun, fought on nearly every terrain imaginable. And you would seriously think you could stand a chance against him? The only way you would be able to have the upper hand against him, would be if you would catch him off guard when he’d be ill, and that wouldn’t happen.
Your attempts to fight him would give him great fodder to ridicule you. He simply wouldn’t cease reminding you how clumsy you would be. Gilbert would comment that you probably watched far to many Hollywood films to think you could earnestly beat him up. Joke would be on you. Also, he would use it as an excuse to give you a few bruises, self-defence and all.
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