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dantespilled · 7 days ago

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i'm curious about ayako and her lore... would you mind sharing it perchance?

Yeah, ofc! Here is an old lore of her i might need to retouch it some day but not rn

Ayako: the Ayako from current timeline

Lostbelt Ayako: the original Ayako who lives in a Pseudo Lostbelt

Pan-Human Ayako: the Ayako who should have been the one to exist

 Lore (and Ayako’s origin):

Ayako’s parents are both ignorant to her existence and her big brother’s. Her brother was the only one who ever talked to her like a normal person and caring for her.

Their parents always had arguments everyday until a day where it turned physical. Her brother decided to step in only to get killed and neglected which traumatizes Ayako for her life.

Then she decided to dirty her own hands to avenge her brother’s death and to stop them. Her command seals appeared right after that and that was when she met Dantes.

The incident turned her into someone who had no longer will to live longer. She isolated herself in her room and decided to start painting to suppress her feelings and trauma. Dantes often came down from the roof to warn her to eat and got some sleep.

Ayako is someone who isn’t supposed to exist at all due to her existence being a part of Lostbelt.

Until Dantes used the holy grail to wish for her to be alive once again. Which replaces pan human Ayako's existence with lostbelt Ayako for a better chance of survival and maybe receives a happy ending.

Ayako had died several times, and Dantes keeps on retrieving holy grails (from hgw; the first holy grail he received was from Ayako’s other self who took a pity of him) to wish for her being alive once again, trying his best to keep the death flag away from her.

It slowly became a loop. Him trying to keep her to stay alive, her dying, him retrieving holy grail, wishing on it, and so on.

In one of the loops Ayako managed to become one of the Chaldea masters, alone. Dantes was sent to the Chateau d’lf by Goetia, that’s one of the reasons he couldn’t stay close to her and protect her. Until Ayako suddenly ended up there.

Him being shocked and also grateful that she managed to stay alive without him being on her side, and also learning that she was caught up into a grand order and another bs (which actually enraged him).

After the Chateau D’lf event ended, he managed to reunite with her and trying to stay close to her once again. But then she died in this loop. And so, Dantes was forced to use one of the holy grails she gathered from the grand order, just to see her again.

The next loops, he is known as her first servant in chaldea. Ayako became one of the chaldea masters once again and able to survive for long in the current loop. But Dantes is never ease about her well being. Since she might die once again.

She doesn’t remember what happened in the loops they had gone through. But the memories became nightmares.

 About the Lostbelt:

Ayako’s Lostbelt timeline is vague. Everything seems to be perfectly normal. No weird creatures lingering around like the other Lostbelt (but started to appear in the Lostbelt once more Servants started appearing). No sign of Holy Grail War.

Those are some of the reasons why Dantes wasn’t sure why he was summoned there. Same goes to the other servants who had been summoned in the Lostbelt.

Ayako was the sole reason why the Lostbelt existed. The Lostbelt was made by the Alien God for the reason to make true Pan-Human last Chaldea Master to succumb into despair. The true Pan-Human Master Chaldea is her other self after all. The only one who should have existed until now instead of the Lostbelt Ayako.

The Lostbelt was soon destroyed and did not exist anymore in the future loops after the first

Holy Grail was used by Dantes and Ayako was killed by her own pan-human self.

P.S. Ayako is born as someone new after Dantes made his first wish on the holy grail. The panhuman

Ayako is replaced by the Lostbelt Ayako. Taking over the pan-human’s role. It is like an old battery getting replaced with new one. But her fate to die is still with her.

Chaldea did not exist, so was the Clock Tower in the Lostbelt. The concept about magic does not exist in there.

 About Ayako:

Ayako isn’t much of a talker and is bad at finding topic or making a conversation, so it would be better if someone else is the one to make the conversation. But if it is something important or just genuinely curious, she would ask/talk about it and straight to the point.

Once her objective is set on, it would be hard to change her mind. Unless you force her to stay put and drag her away with you. She is too stubborn and hot headed to hear anyone giving her advices especially when it comes to her own health. But if she notices how genuinely you care for her, she will try listen to them for some time.

Not able to bear the thought of someone near her dying as the trauma will come back to haunt her. Which she is willing to do some sacrifices to avoid that to happen. One time she happened to get pierced by an arrow on her shoulder to cover up one of the servants with her quick reflex.

Dantes swears he won’t let his guard down for a second after that and gave Ayako an earful of scolding when she was finally recovered but also grateful that she was alright at the same time.

Ayako always keeps her feelings to herself and then unleashes them once she entered her personal room (the studio). Her painting is usually her way to ignore the lingering memories of her nightmares and trying to keep herself stable or staying awake.

Everyone around her understands that she needed some space which they never tried to confront her in the studio. If someone ever tried to force themselves into the studio, Dantes (who is usually seen to be in front of the entrance all the time whenever Ayako occupied the studio) will take care of it or someone else who happened to be there.

Usually Ayako will come and ask each servants or a staff to come into her studio to offer them a portrait of themselves. Which is an act of gratitude from her to them for being there for her. Once the portraits are done she would hang them on the wall. Sometimes she might bashfully ask for another offer as some of the paintings got destroyed when she was emotionally unstable.

Ayako isn’t fond of dressing openly. Especially shirts or dresses without long sleeves. Just to cover up her command seals. If she happened to wear short-sleeved shirts, she will try her best to conceal the command seals with her usual blue ribbon.

Lostbelt Ayako hates it a lot that she would be willing to cut her arm off. As she always sees it as a reminder that she had dirtied her own hands. Dantes had to intervene at that time, talking some senses into her which was hard to do so (as they were not close yet at time. Ayako only saw him as a stranger; while Dantes only saw her as Master and nothing else) and had to keep an eye on her.

Ayako still hates it but not as severe as the Lostbelt Ayako. Since she had no memory of what she did in the past but there are some vivid of it when the nightmares come back to her (which is the reason she hates it).

Ayako (the Lostbelt and current one) almost has nightmares everyday which turned her into sleep deprived. Dantes has always been the person who always forces for her to get some sleep, even though just for an hour. Also have been the one to dive into her nightmares to drive them away. Some Servants who can intervene nightmares also tries to help her out when Dantes isn’t available to help as he is the usual one to do the job more.

She never let anyone calls her ‘Master’ as she doesn’t see herself as one as she was selected as one out of her will.

 Dantes/Ayako:

At first they didn’t REALLY get along well and saw each other as strangers. Ayako wasn’t accepting what Dantes had told her and considered his explanation as joke. While Dantes was very agitated by her reaction and forced her to accept what had just happened.

Dantes would usually stay on her rooftop to keep a watch as it was his ‘job as Servant’ also to avoid making more contacts with Ayako. He sometimes would come down when she forcefully called out to him to eat. Him asking why he should eat as he was a Servant and food won’t do anything to him. Her replying this was her house so he should be following her rules and her not caring if he was a Servant.

Dantes noticed how Ayako had some trouble with sleeping and decided to lend a hand by interfering her nightmares. For the first time he visited her nightmares, Dantes knew exactly where it comes from as he was exactly summoned right after the ‘incident’ happened. They slowly bonded over this little gesture. Ayako sometimes made some coffee and left it for him as a ‘thank you’.

Him slowly starting to look out for her more while Ayako starting to open up with things. Slowly,driving her nightmares away and bringing her to her bed had became his daily stuffs. Though Ayako did not appreciate him forcing her to sleep. Sometimes Dantes would sit on her bedside for awhile, waiting for Ayako to fall asleep.

(Their dynamic is literally just strangers -> friends -> lovers)

No matter how many times Ayako died and reborn. Whenever she was confronted or met Dantesfor the first time, there is always a feeling that she can trust him wholly. It makes Dantes feels like Ayako trying to assure him that it is not his fault she dies. It is her fate after all.

(Basically human empathy and kindness are what brought them together)

#ask

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hazelnut-u-out · 2 years ago

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Rick losing his original family makes me even sadder when I think about the fact that Morty and Summer are basically his kids. He lives with them and takes a much more active role in their lives than most grandparents. He's also pretty much raising Morty (he's doing a terrible job lmao, but he is.) He lost all his children. He lost Jerry, too.

yeahhhhh, 100%.

he’s morty’s primary caregiver at this point, and it kind of feels like the first time in his life morty has ever actually had a primary care giver.

i mentioned this in one of my other posts, but for the longest time after the s5 finale/s6 premier i assumed that rick would pop into the s1 prime dimension on occasion to see if prime had come back, and ran into little morty then. that entire assumption relies on the the inference that morty was pretty heavily neglected and left to his own devices, even at such a young age.

i mean, who in their right mind would leave their baby completely alone in the front hallway while they’re learning to walk?

we ofc don’t know if that’s how rick really knew a morty baby, but it really says something that that’s what someone would immediately deduce.

morty himself even confronts beth about the neglect in “a rickconvenient mort,” and we have plenty of scenes (like in “raising gazorpazorp”) that are open about the neglectful/horrible parents beth and jerry are. even though jerry is shown to be more affectionate towards the kids, he’s always been too busy orbiting beth to be a decent father. (you could also get into the state of morty’s room compared to the rest of the house, or even summer’s room. it’s full of childlike toys and posters because he’s really just a little boy, but there’s mold and mildewy spots- even though he keeps his room relatively tidy.)

one scene that really stuck out to me is when rick takes morty to school in “juricksic mort.” it seems like rick has been one of the people making sure that morty gets there for a while now, considering how the whole scene goes down. (which, what a great contrast from his character in s1. he’s gone from making excuses to justify ruining morty’s education to making sure he gets there on time.)

“rick! mom’s working and dad’s still asleep! i’m gonna be late.” “… just get the keys.”

no pushback from rick at all, just casually taking morty to school. i also like the detail that rick is up that early in the morning, like he’s part of the smith family weekly morning rush routine. he’s just relaxed after summer’s off to school and beth’s at work, drinking some beer and watching the news.

that really seems like rick’s been taking morty to school everyday, or at least often. it’s also a great example of a moment where rick steps up as the “dad” or “patriarch” of the house to fill in for jerry again.

rick doing household chores and shaking his head at the kids in disappointment in “final desmithation” is something that makes me feel like rick is more of a parental figure to the kids than the actual smith parents, too.

(rick sanchez in his matriarch era lol)

(i also just love this little scene of him drinking wine with beth while she plays “operation” and the kids sit around. it’s such a sweet little detail that makes me think about what a subtle act of affection it is to drink wine with her because that’s her drink of choice. it’s also reminiscent of rick “making up for lost time” with his little girl, because it’s horse operation. some things never change- like your daughter playing with horse toys while you watch and have a little drink- even if you’re an old man and she has kids of her own now.)

another episode that i think really embodies rick being the only one who goes out of his way to care about/look after the kids is “rickmancing the stone.” sure, he has that whole blurb about how summer is completely replaceable, but he never actually tries to replace them with versions of themselves from other realities. he just kind of tries to buy time and hopes that they’ll eventually want to come back.

i love the scene where he says, “we need to get you guys home so you can properly deal with your parents’ divorce!”

it seems so genuine to me. he’s a dick, but he’s a dick that’s worried about his grandkids.

being a nurturing father figure, especially with children, is something that seems to come naturally to rick. it’s like part of his nature that’s just been waiting to peek out, even though he’s a jaded old asshole now. “a different kind of rick,” exactly.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #asks

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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Running from the Flames {28}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

April came and went faster than Addie’s growth spurts and our little girl suddenly wasn’t so little anymore. Our three year old couldn’t wait to meet her brother or sister and she had taken her role as a big sister very seriously, preparing herself by carrying around a newborn baby doll wherever she went. It was also how she ‘helped’ me pack for the trip to Baku by shoving all of the doll’s clothes into her suitcase too.

“Sweetheart, you can only pick a few outfits for the doll,” I reminded her as I took the majority out.

“But I want to take them all.” She huffed and crossed her arms defiantly. “Daddy would let me.”

I crossed my arms too. “Daddy is a big softy.”

I knew the moment he stepped into the room behind me as Addie’s face lit up with a beaming smile and she dropped the doll to race towards him.

Pierre caught her as she jumped into his arms before picking up the doll next. “We have to be gentle with babies, mon fille. It would hurt to drop them.”

Addie took her doll back and kissed its forehead. “Besos make it better.”

She was busy catching Pierre up on how we spent our morning while he was at Alpine’s headquarters so she didn’t notice I finished packing her bag alone and prepared to carry it downstairs to the rest of our luggage. “What do you think you’re doing?” Pierre asked as he blocked the door and took the suitcase from my hand. “No heavy lifting.”

“It’s lighter than Addie is, are you going to stop me from carrying her?” I dared.

He chewed his lip as he debated arguing it but the look in my eye stopped him short. “No?”

I rose on my tiptoes and brushed my lips over his softly. “Good answer.”

May meant Monaco, and with Monaco came our first anniversary.

It was hard to believe that it had only been a year since I met Pierre, but there I was, standing in the very same garage I first saw those eyes I had instantly fallen in love with. He had changed my life so significantly that I couldn’t seem to remember the time without him in it.

People told us we moved too fast, even now they still said we wouldn’t last. But it was easy to ignore their comments when I was surrounded by the people I loved and who love me. That list had grown a lot since Pierre entered our lives.

In just one year, Addie had a father, I had a husband and we had a new blessing on the way. One. Year. And we still had a lifetime to go.

“What are you thinking so hard about, mon amour?” Pierre asked as he joined me on the balcony overlooking Massenet corner of the track.

“The first time we sat here.” I took the mug of ginger tea that he had made to settle my stomach, the morning sickness yet to fade completely, and took a seat on the outdoor settee.

“I didn’t think Otmar was going to give me your number that day,” he admitted as he sat beside me and draped one arm along the back of the chair while the other hand came to rest on my abdomen that had popped out a little in the last few weeks. “I may have lied to him about why I wanted it, kind of, I mean I did want to thank you for the gel, but that wasn’t all.”

My lips opened to tease him for lying but a gasp came out instead, my hand coming to my belly.

“What‘s wrong, Bri?” Pierre straightened in alarm as he took the hot drink from my shaking hand.

“Did you feel that?” I asked as I grabbed his hand back and placed it on the swell of my belly, falling silent as I waited to feel it again. “Talk about something, anything.”

Pierre shifted on the lounge as he pulled my shirt up, laying down on his stomach so his lips brushed gently over my skin while his feet kicked happily in the air behind him. “Je suis impatient de te rencontrer, ma petite. I count the days until I get to hold you in my arms. Woah!”

Pierre’s wide eyes snapped to mine, awe and wonder filling them as he felt the strong kick beneath his palms.

“I think she likes your voice.”

“Or he,” he corrected as he spread his fingers wider to cover as much space as he could, hoping to catch another kick.

“We’ll see who’s right next week,” I said with a grin at the thought of all the bets that had been placed around the paddock. Most of the drivers had bet on another girl, though some of them, namely Charles, only did it so they could keep calling Pierre a girl dad.

The baby had other ideas when it came to the ultrasound, refusing to move into a position that revealed the gender. All of Barcelona surely heard the mass groan the crews in the paddock gave when Pierre announced we still didn’t know who was in the running to win the bet. It was lucky I had extra copies of the scans printed out because all of the drivers were suddenly expert radiographers and certain they would be able to tell the gender if they squinted hard enough.

“That’s definitely a boy!” Danny exclaimed as he pointed to the anatomy. “Look at it!”

“That’s the umbilical cord,” I said with a shake of my head and a giggle.

“You know, that makes sense,” he said as he elbowed Pierre. “Thought we were getting Tripod 2.0.”

“That was a joke,” Pierre groaned. “I didn’t think they would use it.”

“Sure, mate, I totally, 110%, absolutely believe you.” Danny tried to keep his composure but one look at Yuki had him bending over in a fit of laughter. All eyes turned to Yuki but he looked everywhere except at us and gave an innocent shrug before lying that he was late for a briefing.

“What’s a tripod?” Addie asked, making another round of laughter roll through the drivers who looked expectantly at Pierre, just as I was.

“Yes, darling, explain that one, will you?” I asked with an arched brow as amusement filled me.

“Thanks Daniel, now I’m in trouble,” Pierre muttered before waving the drivers away until only Charles remained.

“I think you got yourself in trouble the moment you opened your mouth in that interview,” Charles teased as we watched Pierre try to explain that a tripod held cameras in place.

“But that’s not funny,” she grumbled in confusion.

“No, but those guys are very silly.” Satisfied he had put out that fire, he turned to Charles as his arm snaked around my shoulders. “Still betting on a girl?”

“Even if I’m wrong, you’ll still be a girl dad,” Charles said with a smile as he handed the ultrasound image back to me. “Is baby healthy?”

I ran my hand over my bump that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a baby by now and smiled at the question only he would think to ask. “Growing exactly as expected, with ten little fingers and ten little toes.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” he said as he knelt beside Addie who was still carrying her doll with her. “Taking good care of your baby too, I see. Can I hold her?” Addie handed the baby over and Charles cocked an eyebrow at the mess atop her head. “Looks like your daddy has been practising on her hair.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. And it was your mum who taught me to plait so if you’re criticising me, it's really on her teaching skills.”

“My mother is a great teacher,” Charles pointed out with a grin and handed the doll back with the addition of one of his bracelets as a necklace.

Addie jumped happily around seeing the silver and onyx chain sparkling in the sun. “Thank you, Uncle Charles!”

“You’re welcome, chérie.”

“Can I have mochi?” Addie asked as a delicious looking plate of the treats were carried past.

“Where are you manners?”

“S’il vous plaît, maman,” Addie answered as she pushed the destroyed pieces of food around her plate oblivious to the shock on my face.

“Eat your dinner first, then we will talk about dessert,” Pierre negotiated.

“Elle parle française?” I asked him when I saw he didn’t seem surprised at her casual use of French.

“Avec moi, oui. Eat up, mon fille.” He winked at Addie before stealing a takoyaki ball so she would have less to eat to get her dessert. “You too,” he said to me as he saw the ramen bowl hardly touched.

“This little one is taking up too much space,” I admitted as I rubbed the tight skin stretching across my belly and earned a kick in response. “Plus, it is kind of mean that I’m not allowed sushi in Japan.”

“Two months and you can eat all the sushi you want,” Pierre said with a chuckle. “I’ll even bring you back here for it.”

“Six weeks and five days,” you corrected. “And not an hour more.”

The caesarean had already been scheduled for a few days before my due date to avoid going into labour and possibly damaging my restructured hip. It wasn’t as daunting the second time around now that I knew what to expect but I wasn’t looking forward to the recovery and bed rest that came with the surgery. But, it was what was safest for both me and the baby since the doctors weren’t sure if my pelvis would even widen as it should during labour with all the pins holding it together.

The last thing we wanted to do was risk something happening just because I would have preferred a natural birth. It didn’t bother Pierre either since the pre-booked date guaranteed he was going to be there for the birth, or had he referred to it - coming out the sunroof.

“You still need to eat more than that, amore,” Pierre said as he grabbed an edamame bean with his chopsticks and waited for my lips to part. “Please?”

I could hardly say no when he used his puppy eyes so I let him feed me and was rewarded with a proud smile despite feeling like my stomach was going to burst.

“Did you want to take a walk?” Pierre asked after paying for dinner and a separate bag of mochi to take away too.

It was a lovely evening in Suzuka and it wasn’t far to the waterfront but my feet ached along with my back, not to mention I needed to pee for the umpteenth time, so I shook my head ruefully. “Not tonight, but you two can go. Addie could probably do with running off some energy.”

Pierre kissed my temple as he saw my discomfort, his arm curling around my waist before we started the short journey back to the hotel. “I’ll take her out after you are settled in,” he promised.

“Oh yes, that’s the spot,” I moaned as Pierre massaged my swollen ankles that were propped up on his thigh. His strong hands were the best relief and their magic was almost putting me to sleep as another yawn escaped.

“Daddy, can we go now?” Addie begged as she stood by the door waiting with her jacket ready and her shoes on.

He looked like he was going to ask for one more minute but she had already been waiting for five and that was about the most patience we could get out of her before a tantrum began so I lifted my feet off his lap. “Have fun, my loves.”

Addie ran over and kissed my cheek before taking Pierre’s hand and dragging him to his feet. “Call me if you want me to get you anything.”

“Sushi?”

“Except sushi,” he chuckled as he placed some cushions under my feet and gave me a quick kiss before Addie succeeded in getting him to take a step towards the door. “Get some rest, mon amour.”

Click here for chapter twenty nine.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 imagine #running from the flames

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papabearbobbynash · 1 year ago

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Btw since 911 is on hiatus I decided to catch up on all the other shows I've been neglecting and the first one was Grey's anatomy.

I stopped in the first part of S17 because the whole C0V1D storyline was too overwhelming) and now I decided to catch up with the latest 2 seasons.

I do have a bunch of opinions about the characters, but I will be talking about Amelia because honestly she has been my point of interest in Grey's since season 14. Actually It's kinda funny how my two current favorite characters (Bobby from 911 and Amelia from Grey's) are addicted in recovery (Richard could be there too if the writers didn't make his sobriety a comedic relief sometimes. At least Amelia's sobriety is taken seriously in my opinion)

So talking as someone who loved Amelink in S15-16 and got really sad over how they ended, it's beyond me how it's obvious Amelia is miserable through season 17 dealing with that domestic life. It's so obvious and yet people still chose to completely ignore that when blaming her for how her relationship with Link ended.

"It was the healthiest relationship she had and she ruined it"

Okay, at some point it really was the healthiest relationship (S15-17) she ever had, but it wasn't anymore. That happens, things change. It wasn't helathy anymore the moment she began to feel miserable and wish to drink every night and hide all that feeling from Link, because she knew he loved that domestic life of a house full of kids they were obligated to have due the lockdown. Then the whole part with Link proposing countless times even when Amelia let it very clear she did not want to marry, didn't really help. Like Instead of getting a clue on why he got the first "no" and even bother to ask the reasons, Link just kept proposing hoping she would have changed her mind, even proposing into someone's else marriage ceremony (???).

Also if we're being honest it's not a secret Amelia never wanted that that life for herself as she ran from her fiance in L.A and she ran from Owen because of that "house full of kids" matter. She did co-parented Leo and Betty after her divorce with Owen, what helped her to mature enough by the time she gave birth to Scout, but being able to handle that life isn't the same of wanting that life again.

If we are being frank Scout was completely an "accident" and neither Amelia or Link had any views of being such a serious couple until her pregnancy, they basically only got really together because of Scout. So, they didn't even have the time to figure out what they wanted individually before getting together, and then living together is what really played the effect of them diverging in their views of what they wanted for their life.

Amelia could have communicated better her reasons ofc, but if we think about it she chose to cut it off the relationship instead of deluding Link into "playing a role" in a life she realized she didn't want for herself, and there is no wrong on that. She chose to let him go so he could live that life with someone else.

As Amelia answered perfectly to Jo's (not very appropriate) question of "how do you let go from perfect (Link)?"

Link wasn't perfect for her.

Then we have the whole thing with Kai... Honestly I'm still fomenting my full thoughts on it, I do love the NB representation and definitely didn't like they broke up in S19, but I can't say I'm not appreciating Amelia having sometime alone.

She jumped from Owen to Link and then to Kai with no breath between each relationship at all so it's probably the first time in a while her character is alone out of a romantic relationship and I'm appreciating that fact because it opens space for her to grow more like she has been growing since S14, but I do hope Kai come back at some point.

#grey's anatomy #amelia shepherd #definitely not tagging the ships because I'm sure this ain't exactly a popular opinion #not 911 content

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feuqueerfire · 1 year ago

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Be My Favorite Live Blogging

Haven't been really watching shows and haven't watched anything long since literally August but now that it's nearing the end of the semester and I have big, big projects due that I'm not close to being done, clearly it's the correct time to watch this.

I've been anticipating this for so long, I hope I love it.

Ep 1 (Nov 23)

1-1

hijabi side character

12 years after 1st year, so are they 30 years old now?

not Pisaeng being a liar! lol

1-2

oh yeah, Kawi is a translator!

the time travel has started

1-3

omg him getting a call from his dad and going to see him and hug him T.T because his dad passed away in real life T.T

oh the first time travel iteration, i'm having fun

"Do you like me? [...] What should I think?"

1-4

The way Kawi has already begun to act unlike himself and getting out of his shell like with Pisaeng in the locker room and dancing drunk in the bar, even if it involves first stealing Pisaeng's clothes and next his money

Fun start!

Ep 2 (Nov 24)

2-1

ohh okay so doing that takes you to the same moment as when you twisted it? both in the present and past

2-2

Ahh, his time travel affecting the current timeline, he's now besties with Pisaeng and isn't a recluse

2-3

Kawi's repeatedly using Pisaeng's money and whining is offputting. like i fully know that a large portion of his inferiority complex comes from the lack of money and how he thinks that people think of him poorly because of it but omg it's so ew

2-4

I would hate to be in Pear's situation so much omg she was hoping to get have lunch with the guy she's known for a while + probably has a crush on and now he's left her at this restaurant with some random dude who has definitely been trying to get closer to her... rip but she's being nice about it

ah, the kissing the best man on the day of the wedding

the coming-back-to-win-prize is extremely expected lol

Krist's expressions are too much fr, reminds me why I don't like certain slap-stick cartoonish jBLs. paired with the whining? please I need it to lessen over time

Ep 3 (Nov 24)

3-1

Pear inviting a friend as soon as she realized Pisaeng had ditched and now she's having lunch alone with this guy who could misconstrue this as a date, exactly so true

For all my ehh feelings about Khai's mannerisms, the way he says "Then who do you like? O.O" is so good

3-4

I know the point is that Kawi is unlikeable and doesn't quite know how to navigate people or relationships but he's supposed to grow throughout the show but man he bothers me fr like the way he keeps being cruel to Pisaeng is just. I know it's cuz he doesn't want Pisaeng to fall for him and leave Pear on their wedding day but it's like girl...

actually more than just terating him shitty, it bothers me that every time Kawi acts like he doesn't get why Pisaeng is hurt. "Oh just this hurt you?" "Why are you mad?" etc

loll the lottery ticket thing is so true

I was whatever about Gawin in Not Me and wasn't really someone I wasn't someone I was drawn to in general but I really like him in this role! Hot boy Pisaeng let's go

Ep 4 (Nov 25)

4-1

The way Kawi wears his backpack only on one shoulder bothers me cuz it doesn't look light

4-2

broo Kawi put your fucking backpack on properly like the whole game whatever is dumb and annoying obviously but don't be silly

I hate these confession things so much, fuck Not for real. ofc it's a lot of pressure on Kawi to confess but I also hate these things that definitely pressure the girl into feeling like she has to say yes

4-3

okayy at least they're all leaving the two of them together, rather than witnessing the confession but I kinda thought they were gonna film him get rejected or smth

oh lmfao they're eavesdropping on him knowing he'd get rejected such bastards

I knowww the point is that Kawi has many shortcomings but goddamn being 30 in a freshman's body and still making stupid decisions is so annoying to watch, why are you going to the nightclub rn bffr and he knows Not is an asshold, he almost slipped up when he tried to make Not and Pisaeng go back to being friends so why is he hanging around Not still smh

Not stop trying to get a girl to sleep with a drunk Kawi omg

4-4

annoying, including what Pisaeng is saying

although drunk Kawi jumping past!Pisaeng for the crimes for current Pisaeng is funny though, Pisaeng is confused as hell

ah Pisaeng gay and avoidant

Damn, Kawi really got Pisaeng to confess to Pear that he doesn't like her and never will, good job

wait... Pear asking to sit with Kawi... knowing that she doesn't have a chance with Pisaeng... are we gonna get groom Kawi in the new future?

bro wtf he's not going to go back to the present? how are you not curious enough smh but I guess he doesn't know that Pisaeng said no to Pear

Ep 5 (Nov 25)

5-1

Oh, he wants to accomplish his last goal of dating Pear or whatever before going back...

oh Pisaeng taken with seeing boys kissing at the club he works at

5-2

ahh Pisaeng going to the gay club!

aww him running out as soon as he saw Max and got recognized

ah Max good head

5-3

I don't want Kwan to be nice to Nott, she's too good for him

I don't quite agree with Max because what do you mean people don't care or gossip or talk about where you go and what you do

lol did Kwan being nice to Nott make Nott be nice to Kawi. will it last

not Kawi running to meet Pisaeng and actually apologizing gj

Pisaeng really confessed

5-4

Corny scene of Kawi and Pisaeng but better than the whining

damn singer Kawi

oh the next episode has the drunk scene with Kawi asking why Pisaeng likes him... it's in every edit + trailer I think

Ep 6 (Nov 26)

6-1

lol is a business tycoon that good to watch, Max?

Pear whining to her dad to treat Kawi's father is so... eh? idk it's a serious topic but idk

oh damn the dinner with Pear's father is going really sideways

Pisaeng shouldn't have told Pear but that's one thing, I don't think Pear also shouldn't have just started talking about Kawi's dad to her dad without consulting him

but also was Kawi planning on asking Pear's dad without telling Pear beforehand?

Kawi's little drunk ramble here is pretty good

6-2

wtf why is Nott being cute and smiley to Pear...

oh the drunk Kawi and Pisaeng kissing

what are we doing why are we unbuttoning the drunk guy's shirt bro

okay sorry I think this would've been better if I though Kawi was attractive

not Kawi falling asleep omg pls

6-3

she may be a capitalist businesswoman but at least she supports queer people and her son being queer

oh my bad spoke too soon! she's like keep it quietttt

oh so Nott is there to tell Pear he thinks Kawi isn't straight?

lol not the time-travelling sleep-talking

crying why didn't Pisaeng shut Kawi up quicker

6-4

oh Pisaeng has become bold

Ep 7 (Nov 26)

7-1

ahhh tragic the way Pisaeng

aw, I'm proud of Kawi, mans really accomplishing his goals

girl what kaljdsfkljadsf omg

7-2

so how does memory work here? Does Kawi just know the lyrics even though it's a song he never learned in a life he hasn't lived?

but i'm assuming there's still stuff wrong with his life and him being so happy is out of character?

girl not Nott D: Pear no

oh nooo Pear and Kawi had been dating but he's been putting her through it?

Can they show what actually lead to Kawi and Pear's breakup?

omg ? did Kawi cheat on Pear with Pisaeng or smth?

7-3

omg Nott is suchhh a dickhead, how is he getting both Kwan and Pear smhhh

girl so you're pregnant, get an abortion plsss ik it's not as easy as i'm saying it but T.T tying yourself to Nott for life?

okay at least Kawi didn't cheat on Pear, he just didn't wanna marry her and settle down

7-4

I guess Kawi let Pisaeng be true to himself but leading him to discover him being gay?

ahh Pisaeng giving Kawi gift for his "confession" anniversary even 8 years down the line, how are you so down bad omg Kawi and Pisaeng are both kings of holding onto crushes, though at least Pisaeng has been around Kawi this whole time, unlike Kawi having like no contact with Pear lol

Okay my confession is that Nott and Kwan are both very attractive to me and kinda want to see them play a couple together

Ep 8 (Nov 27)

8-1

tragic reaction to the kiss

so did Kawi often kiss Pisaeng while drunk? and forget or what?

8-2

aw man the dad died right away

i mean... Pisaeng's mom isn't wrong here tbh

dang, Kawi gave Pisaeng his diary

I feel like Kawi should've given Pisaeng some more concrete proof ngl

8-3

forever gotta love a queer ralley or info session or whatever in a BL

plsss not all this dramatics while Pisaeng prlly just dropping his mother off at the airport but i suppose it'll move Kawi along in his feelings bravery journey

8-4

girl not the time travel man almost getting to Pisaeng's car

Ep 9 (Nov 28)

9-1

is the writer or director of this show a child of divorce with a shitty mother who is obsessed with her work and never there for her kid or smth? because pear, kawi, pisaeng all have separated parents, pear and kawi love and are in contact with their fathers while their mothers left for work and a diff family respectively. pisaeng is living with his mom technically but she's also never there and busy with her work. we could've at least examined why women are forced into these scenarios for at least 1 situation instead of having 3 shitty moms for no reason lmao

9-2

agh Not is a problem fr

idk i kinda don't care about Kawi and Pisaeng cuteness negl even though I feel like I should be having fun with it... I'm just kinda bored of this show rip even though it's like objectively not bad and probably not actually boring

9-3

bro Not isn't just calling Pear but discussing it with a group in public, get fucked fr

aw Pear

9-4

Kwan needs to get over Nott and Pear needs to not entertain him either aghhh this fucker

Kwan is so pretty fr I cannot see her like Nott fr T.T and Nott is nicef to look at too, why can't he be a decent guy

ah Pear asking Nott to not tell anybody, she's kind but he's an asshole who's already told everybody so

and at least she's not falling for him, yes a win

At first I was watching this show on 1.25 but I started doing 1.5x because I kinda want it to be done

Ep 10 (Nov 28/29)

10-1

Nott pushing Kwan like that??? die

10-2

hehe making up with friends Pear and Max

awwww this tragic Pisaeng moment with his mother

ohh so the mother approved finally

10-3

Kawi is a 30 year old virgin who figured out he likes guys also like a week ago so I understand why he's shy, its not out of character for him the way it is for many of the other BL characters but it's still so awkward T.T

just gonna ignore Max's response to possibly asexuality but whatever lol

[Linguistics] Oh, then discussing stopping gu/mueng and using Khun or smth instead because they're dating now

10-4

not even gonna lie, skipped the entire intimate scene thing because it's making me uncomfortable idk like it's not giving horniness vibes which is definitely fine, i love tender and sweet but for some reason it's giving me the ick here - maybe cuz I actually wanted it to go a different way of maybe not leading to sex and going in an ace route?

i saw a glimpse of the kissing and yeah not into it

Actually, I wonder if not watching anything risque or sexual in a show for the past few months has made me averse to it again? but idk bout that cuz I've been enjoying the Pit Babe edits lmfao (although the edits don't really show much actual NC content, just convos before or interactions)

Anyway 2 more episodes, I can do this. idk why i'm so meh about this show when I've been hoping to love it while many people who were so apprehensive about it like it way more than me

Ep 11 (Nov 29)

11-1

Aw Pear and her mother making up

having to skip through the continuation of the Kawi and Pisaeng sex scene to get to the interweaved character stories lmfao

11-2

Graduation gift? How fucking long has Kawi been living in the past

the compilation of Kawi and Pisaeng (+friends at Christmas) is cute, aw

11-3

wait Pearmai wedding invitation? Is this still in the past?

the constant Khun is so confusing now

11-4

I'm so confused by the passing of time this episode, ig it's been a few days since Kawi got sick?

ohhhh so the reason nothing happened with Pisaeng the first time is because it was his first time spinning the snowglobe so he's back there on his second try

omg just one more episode left, i'm so tired of this show i want it to be done

Ep 12 (Nov 30)

Last day of the month and I'm finally almost done whooo 1 last episode on 1.5x let's go

12-1

Ohh, nice choice to make Kawi reflect on not wanting to actually become famous

12-2

I don't get the aging thing either

Okay my bad I really skipped through this last ep to get the just of what's going on

Overall:

It is such a tragedy that despite looking forward to this show for so long and enjoying some aspects and moments, ultimately, it fell flat for me. I feel like a lot of this show was objectively done well like the character arcs and acting and stuff but I'm not attached to any of it. The romance didn't make me feel giddy even though I really wish it had like it's strange that I didn't care at all about all those cute moments Kawi and Pisaeng had or the established relationship montages when usually they're some of my favourite aspects of a BL. agh whatever ig at least the show didn't treat Pear terribly.

Rating: 5.5/10

#be my favorite #ep by ep commentary

0 notes

zepskies · 6 months ago

Text

Ahaha yep! Straight in with the angst and (brief) comic relief. 😂

First off, please don't ever apologize for a long review! It absolutely made my day. 🥰🥰

Ngl, I do feel bad for Ben here. I completely understand her, like totally. She is living with a man who's her boyfriend but she doesn't have any recollection of them. She can't remember fortheloveofgod how she ended up in this way.

It's okay, you're allowed to feel bad for Ben here while sympathizing for her as well. She's going through it, and so is Ben, in his own way.

She really has been through a lot. Like a lot. And it's high time she gets taken care of as well. Such a universal mysterious way of making her take rest and Ben taking care of her. Roles revesered, I love it.

I'm glad you pointed this out! Yes, she has been through a lot in her life and finally she gets people taking care of her for a change. It's a shame it had to be this drastic for that to happen, but there you go lol.

I was waiting for this to happen since the beginning. First time, she fell for Ben who was Soldier Boy, now she's falling for Ben, just a guy, who's in love with a girl, who forgot him.

Ahaaa that's exactly it!

Also, I love the 20 questions and OFC Ben HAD to go and talk about their sex life in explicit details. Typical him, but that kinda makes him adorable (please don't judge me, my mind melts away when it comes to Ben).

Lmfaooo clearly I'm not one to judge. 😝 But I'm glad you got a kick out of that part. (Because of COURSE he would take it there lol.)

I loved how he took her for a ride to jog her memories, he's really trying everything. Also, really liked that how you added the part of her loving Christmas. (I loved the Christmas mini series of these two.)

Aww yes, because this story takes place shortly after the Christmas mini series, there are a lot of references to Love Actually in this story, especially with the photo album. ❤️💚

She FINALLY remembers something. Too bad it's such a bad memory, likely the worst of them. BUT she remembered something and that's a HUGE progress.

It was a flash of something for sure, and it's starting a domino effect...

That is SO thoughtful. And he's not even trying to impress her or anything. That came from a deep level of concern and care, just like him glaring and scolding the peepers.

Ikr? He really is trying. 😭

Such a sweet and intimate moment. But so sad. She really wants him. She's fallen for him. And now she truly wants to remember. It's breaking herthat she can't. You can see the progress, she's now considering the blood transfusion from him. She's grown to trust him completely. He's reclaimed his place in her heart again, and by her side in their bed as well. And he'll hold her as long as she needs him to.

It's bittersweet, right? She's about 99% there as far as trusting him and wanting to have that connection. And all he wants is to take this away from her.

I really liked how he didn't crowd her and let her make her own decision. Even tho they are in the bed together, and kissed, they weren't in the solid ground. Now they are. Her getting into his arms, thanking him, are showing how much she trusts him, how much she's accepted him, and how much she needs him.

Yep, we're calling back to BMD Part 15 on this one (I think it was 15? lol), when he lets her "come to him this time."

When he mentioned in the car that being alone their whole life is something they have in common, it truly was hurtful... they were two lost souls who found each other. They became each other's person, and now she forgot them, which left Ben all alone, again. But the ending of this chapter has changed it, and there's definitely hope and happiness in the horizon for them.

Aww yeah that was a heartfelt moment. And you're right, it represents their relationship as a whole. They became the one person each of them could confide in, to be their full selves with, good, bad, and ugly. But there's definitely hope for these two, and you'll see how this wraps up on Friday!! Thank you again for such a heartfelt review. It truly brightened my day and warmed my heart to read. 💕💕

Wake Me Up - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Get ready for some angsty, but fun attempts at memory jogging. 😅

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some...mature talk lol. Angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, PTSD, protective Ben, tinge of spice~

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 3: “When You Hold Me”

Those first few days were the hardest ones.

Marie ran out of paid time off, which meant she had to go back to work. That left you alone with Ben during the day.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, and glaring at you after you’d just pushed away the bowl of bland instant oatmeal he’d “made” for you.

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in the rumpled shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched. He saw the pain and tiredness written across your face though, and the way you were sitting hunched at the breakfast bar, arms crossed on the counter. He softened a little.

“Look, I get it,” he started to say.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped. Your eyes closed as the pain sharpened. You lifted your hands to either side of your temples. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

You huffed and dropped your hands flat on the counter in frustration. Your eyes opened, and you looked down at the various healing scars littering your arms. You knew there were a few more across your neck and chest, and even your thighs. No matter how you stood, sat, or laid, it was painful to move your body. Even your face still hurt, with the fracture and bruises.

“You’re not the one who looks like Edward Scissorhands had a party,” you said, gesturing at yourself as you glared up at Ben. Emotion began to rise in your throat. “Or for a reference you’ll actually understand, how about this: I’m the Bride of goddamn Frankenstein. A fucking patchwork quilt.”

Ben hardened again, even with the deep pit forming in his stomach.

“That’s enough—”

“And despite what little you, or my mom, Grace, Annie, or even the doctors have told me, I can’t even remember who did this to me or what the hell happened,” you said. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped at them furiously and turned your face away.

“So no, the indestructible supe doesn’t understand. You literally can’t!” You pushed away from the counter and did your best not to lose your balance when a wave of vertigo hit you.

Ben started toward you, but you held up a hand against him.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” you muttered.

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever said that to him, but somehow, this one cut into him worse than the last.

Over the next several weeks, you did begin to heal from your injuries. Your doctor even noted that you were healing better than she expected. Bruises faded, wounds slowly became scars, some of their stitches removed, and with the right topical medication, a couple of them began to disappear.

The memories remained—at least for Ben. Finding you in that dark, disgusting place, breaking your chains, seeing how thoroughly that piece of shit had worked you over…

It still made him angry at times. He’d broken a couple of mugs, and one near-empty beer bottle. (You’d only caught him once, though he’d given you some bullshit excuse as to why.)

Your memory, on the other hand, still didn’t return.

And you weren’t an easy patient. That episode in the kitchen wasn’t the first, nor was it the last. Often the pain made you crabby and irritable, whenever your medication wore off. The head injury was also causing vast mood swings that Ben could barely keep up with.

It was all he could do to stop himself from snapping back at you at times (and sometimes he failed). He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers.

Marie was the only buffer. At least, when she was home. On more than one occasion, she’d had to try and diffuse the tension.

She was working during the day though, which of course, left you with Ben.

You were prone to headaches and dizziness, so he was careful with you, more than he’d ever been. You were starting to notice how he sometimes had to correct himself before he touched you, or forced himself to be deliberately slow when he helped you.

Your mom had also been doting on you, laying out your clothes, brushing your hair, trying her best to cook for the three of you in the evening. Apparently, she’d been taking lessons, though she still couldn’t cook for shit. Ben often suggested takeout, since he was also no “Betty fucking Crocker,” in his own words.

Still, it was a foreign feeling to be taken care of. It often left you unbalanced, even after your vertigo settled, or your headaches eased.

You considered it while you and Ben were channel surfing together from opposite ends of the couch in the living room. Your mom had just given you a blanket to cover your shoulders, before she went off to water your potted plants on the balcony for you. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off work.

You watched her go with a measure of disbelief.

“Look at Mother Theresa go,” you remarked. “You’d think they replaced my mom with one of the Stepford Wives.”

Ben snorted, because he actually knew the movie you were talking about. You’d forced him to watch it with you a few months ago, mostly to tease him.

“She’s never babied me this much in my life,” you said. “Not even when I was still old enough to be babied.”

Instead of commiserating with you, Ben just sighed, shaking his head a little. He glanced away from the History Channel on the screen to shoot you a glance.

“Maybe you should cut your mom some fucking slack,” he said. “She’s doing a hell of a lot for you. Even more than I am.”

You raised a brow at him. While you had a feeling that wasn’t so easy for him to admit, something about his words annoyed you.

“You clearly don’t know her like I do,” you said.

Your childhood had been no picnic. While you didn’t necessarily blame your mom (anymore) for staying with your father when you were a kid, you had never truly been a child. Your self-imposed job had been to protect your sister’s childhood, and sometimes, your mother too.

Ben gave you a more direct look.

“I know plenty,” he said.

And in his eyes, you saw that he did know something. Perhaps too much. You gathered the throw blanket closer around your body and sank further into your side of the couch.

The last thing you wanted to talk about was your messed up childhood, let alone your father. You couldn’t even remember his death, though Marie told you that you had been there. And so had Ben.

You snuck a look at him while his attention had returned to the TV. He’d settled on Ice Road Truckers. You weren’t impressed.

“Ugh. Can we watch something else?” you asked. “Something funny maybe, like How I Met Your Mother?”

Ben shot you a look. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Not true! It has universal appeal,” you argued. Slowly you raised yourself from your corner of the couch, grimacing just a bit as it disturbed the delicate equilibrium of your still-fractured skull. It was healing, but that, of course, would take the most time. Your headaches would turn into migraines if you weren’t careful.

Ben knew that full well as he watched you move towards him across the couch. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand to steady you by your arm. You gifted him with a smile and grabbed onto him.

“Please?” you implored.

Ben tried to remain unaffected, but that smile of yours was endearing. Plus, it wasn’t often that you willingly reached out to him, touched him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, turning off the TV with the remote. You gave him a curious look. He turned to you with a smile. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Of course this man would have a Benz, you thought. The car was black and sleek with beige interior, and it was both comfortable and decked out with all the modern bells and whistles.

You wondered if he knew what half of these buttons did as you gazed across the dashboard, but the path of your eyes continued until you settled on the man himself. Ben was casually dressed in a burgundy sweater and dark brown slacks, a silver Rolex on his wrist. He had one hand casually on the wheel and the other resting in his lap.

Part of you itched to take his hand, but you decided against it. You could admit, if only to yourself, that you were warming up to him.

Maybe you even liked him.

You knew you didn’t always make it easy, but he had been as patient and gentle as he could be with you, for a man who clearly wasn’t used to being either for anyone.

Despite his gruff exterior, however, you knew he had to care about you to put up with all this. It made you more willing to trust him…and even more curious about him.

“What’s my favorite color?” you asked.

Ben gave you a furrowed look. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your blouse.

“We’ve supposedly been together for a year,” you reasoned. “You should know what my favorite color is.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on,” you nudged his arm, trying to get him to smile. You succeeded, just a little.

“I don’t know…blue,” he guessed. Your mouth fell open in shock.

“How do you not know my favorite color’s red?” you said. “That’s the most basic thing ever.”

“What are you, five years old? Who fucking cares?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I do!” you said. “Well, fine, Mr. Grump. When’s my birthday?”

With another shake of his head, he did correctly answer that question, at least.

“What’s my favorite food?” you asked.

“What’s with the goddamn quiz?” he retorted.

“I’m seeing how well you actually know me,” you countered. “Come on. Impress me.”

Ben slowed to a stop at a busy intersection. He’d been trying to jog your memory by passing certain landmarks he thought you might recognize, like the grocery store you two always shopped at, or the park where you liked to go for walks. So far, you seemed disinterested in the sights and more interested in grilling him.

Despite his longsuffering sigh, he had to wrack his brain in order to come up with something for you.

“The Beatles are your favorite band. Specifically the Abbey Road album,” he said.

That didn’t exactly answer your earlier question, but…he wasn’t wrong.

“Okay, you get a point there,” you said.

“And you fucking love Christmas,” he said, somehow with both annoyance and fondness. “Tacky as hell, with the…the ribbons, and the red flowers, and the jingle balls, and whatever the fuck else you can get your hands on. You love that shit. Because when you were a kid, that was the only time of the year your family got any peace.”

You were smiling at his description, but you sobered when he got to that last bit. Ben met your gaze.

“I know that you’ve had three boyfriends before me,” he said. Then, a smirk grew across his face. “But I’m the only one who’s made you come. Every time. Like a goddamn faucet.”

You gaped as your face grew red with a hot blush. “Excuse me—”

“You claim to like getting taken from behind the best. And you do. You’re all too happy to get bent in half for me. Hair pulling, ass-slapping, the whole sticky nine yards,” he continued, with an even fonder gleam of memory in his eyes. His hands caressed the leather wheel of his car, long fingers flexing.

“But you actually like it better when you can see my face, watch me work. I don’t blame you,” he added, smiling. “I mean, if there was an Oscar for laying it the fuck down, I would’ve taken that shit year after year. Would’ve beat out Bert Reynolds by a fucking landslide.”

You thought you were about to combust, whether from indignation, or straight up embarrassment, you didn’t know. (And you were going to ignore the little tremble of heat between your legs.)

But just as you were about to blow your top, figuratively speaking, Ben’s expression became more serious when his gaze returned to you.

“I know that you’ve had to take care of yourself. And that you’ve been alone all your life,” he said. Then a slight pause, before his attention went back to the road. “That’s something you and I have in common.”

The light turned green. Your anger and embarrassment settled, somewhat, into contemplation. You didn’t know what to make of this man.

He was infuriating, with all kinds of audacity. He was crass, and at times, he grated on your very last nerve.

But somehow, he knew you. He seemed to know the parts of you that you didn’t even want to know.

Sensing your angry gaze on the side of his face, he turned to you with a devil-may-care grin.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m not dressed for this,” you said, leaning in close to whisper to him.

He’d taken you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, on the even more affluent side of town. You still couldn’t believe you’d moved out of New York City to Scarsdale, of all places.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you closer, enough for you to feel his body heat.

“You’re just right,” he looked down on you with a teasing wink. It made you blush, despite yourself, with a small smile.

You went with him to a secluded booth in the back, by his request with the hostess. They seemed to know him, so maybe he was a regular. Or more likely, both of you were regulars. This place was only vaguely familiar, but when you saw the menu, you knew you were going to get the salmon.

Ben snorted when you said so.

“Yeah, that’s what you always get,” he said.

He smiled though—at the fact that this little outing was helping you make progress after all.

He didn’t need the menu either. He always ordered the dry-aged porterhouse steak. You couldn’t drink on the medication you were on, but he ordered a glass of bourbon for himself.

When the meal eventually came out, you glanced at his enormous plate with wide eyes. That had to be the biggest damn steak you’d ever seen, along with a huge loaded baked potato and a side of broccoli. You doubted the greens would do all that much for him, nutrition-wise.

“Whoa. Did they cut up a stegosaurus back there?” you quipped.

Ben chuckled. He’d actually missed your sense of humor, no matter how dumb it was sometimes. He unwrapped the steak knife they gave him from his napkin and started to carve a big piece.

You raised your brows, but shifted your attention to your fish and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like melt-in-your-mouth good, and you weren’t sure fish was supposed to be “melty.” No wonder you two liked coming here.

But then, your thoughts were entirely derailed.

Hearing the sound of his knife hitting the plate, carving into the meat—it struck a discordant note in your mind. You looked over, and the sharp, silvery gleam of it caused a vision to flash across your eyes…

Of a blade sliding against your skin, over and over. Along with questions. The same questions being asked of you, over and over.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Tell me!” a man demanded. “Give me something.”

He grabbed your face, squeezed your neck until you choked on blood and spit.

“Hey!” a more familiar voice cut through it all. “Come on, sweetheart. Answer me.”

You blinked and caught yourself mid-gasp, staring into the deep green of Ben’s eyes.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, his hand pressed to the side of your cheek, which stung slightly, as if he’d had to try and wake you. His arm was wrapped around your waist in the booth.

He was gentle in sliding your hair away from your face, but his own was hard and almost angry, as his brows were knitted together. His gaze then traveled across the room, and you realized that there were other people in the restaurant now watching you and Ben. Even the servers stopped what they were doing at the sound of his shout.

He gave them all a pointed glare.

“What? Nothing to fucking see here,” he snapped. Most of them were wise enough to turn away, back to their meals and conversation. Ben focused on you as you caught your breath. You were finally able to support yourself, though you stayed leaning on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to let you go either, until he got some answers.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. You frowned at his gruff tone, until you met his eyes. Somehow, you could see that there was worry there.

You glanced down, and you closed your eyes when you saw it. You pressed your face into his arm to steady yourself.

“The uh…the knife,” you whispered. “It made me see something…remember something.”

“What did you remember?” he asked quickly. You sucked in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Nothing good,” you whispered.

You felt him pause. You heard the shuffle of silverware, a thump on the table. Then his hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“It’s okay. I put it away,” he said.

Tears burned behind your eyelids, and you buried your face harder against his chest. At this point, it wasn’t just about seeing the knife. It was knowing that whatever had happened to you, it had truly been hell. Unlike anything you’d ever been through before.

“You want to go home?” came Ben’s voice, deep and steady in your ear.

You sniffed and nodded, as your tears seeped into the fabric of his sweater. He rubbed your back, holding you more securely.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, the episode at the restaurant led you to a migraine. Ben carried you to the master bedroom and laid you down, helped you undress down to your underwear, and gave you a shirt you liked to sleep in. He turned all the lights off and made sure the curtains were closed tight.

Marie brought you your pain medication with a glass of water. Ben hoped there was enough in your stomach that the pills wouldn’t make you nauseous as well, like they occasionally did.

After you took the meds, you curled up on the bed and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to whimper like a child. You’d dealt with pain before; that was nothing new. But this was getting ridiculous.

Ben gave Marie a certain look. “I’ve got it from here.”

She gazed at you with sympathetic tears in her eyes, but she nodded and touched his arm.

“If you need anything, just call for me,” she whispered.

Ben nodded, but he closed the door behind her and began by taking off his watch, then his shoes, pants, and sweater. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

You were too busy hugging your pillow and pressing your face into it. You didn’t realize he was still with you until the bed dipped behind you.

Ben turned you around and gathered you into his arms. You inhaled sharply, but then you clung to him. His chest and middle were warm, a bit unnaturally so.

“You’re hot,” you muttered, splaying a hand against his chest. “Like a radiator.”

Ben quirked a smile. “Yeah, you tend to complain about that.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself closer to him. “Not today.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead. He held you that way for a while, just silence and the sound of your breathing covering the room. Eventually, the pain medication began to kick in, helping to ease your pounding skull.

You pulled back enough to see Ben’s face. He was still awake, but he opened his eyes and met yours in the dim light. You reached up and touched his bearded cheek, hesitantly.

“Why can’t I remember?” you asked, in a broken voice.

Ben’s brows furrowed. He curled his hand around yours and let out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, but all he wanted was for this to be over.

“I could take this from you,” he said. “What’s the big fucking deal about a blood transfusion?”

Your fingers stilled against his cheek. Your tearful eyes averted from his, but you weren’t as opposed to the idea as you were before.

“The last time, it healed me?” you asked.

“Within the hour,” he said. His hand tightened a fraction on yours. “It’ll be like it never happened. And your memories could even come back.”

You sighed, briefly closing your eyes. Your hand fell from his cheek, but you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you said.

Ben’s frown remained, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He took your chin and slowly tilted your face up to his. You stared up at him with shining eyes. He didn’t like the pain he still saw there, but he did like the way you glanced down at his lips.

He took a chance, and he leaned down to meet you with a kiss. What first was a gentle touch, soon became heady as your hand slid up his arm and into his hair. He brought you flush against him and deepened the kiss, when his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. You welcomed him in with a surprised moan.

He hadn’t tasted you in so damn long, it was like indulging a craving he’d been denying himself. It was even harder to slow down and ease away from your lips.

You rested your forehead against his chest afterward.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Okay.”

Ben chuckled. But unlike the movies, a kiss didn’t break the spell. You were his, but not completely.

He wanted nothing more than to show you how much you could be…but your body was still weak. He would have to continue protecting you, even from himself.

“I want to stay here tonight,” he said.

Despite his earlier thoughts, he didn’t think he could take one more night of not being with you in this bed. He could control himself. He just wanted to make sure you were all right, and safe with him.

It took you a moment to decide, but you nodded.

“You can stay,” you agreed, with a more teasing smile. “I don’t think your old man back can handle the couch anymore.”

He snorted in amusement. There was some more of your sense of humor peeking through.

Meanwhile, you still weren’t totally convinced that him sleeping in the bed with you was a good idea. A good part of you craved his nearness, and how he made you feel safe…but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to continue being so vulnerable with him.

Just when you were about to put some distance here between you and tell him to stay on his side, Ben rolled you back around so that your back was pressed to his chest. He slid a warm, strong arm around your waist. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder. The sleep shirt you wore (one of his old shirts) had ridden down your arm.

“Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

And you actually believed it.

You felt comfortable and secure in his embrace. Soon enough, you relaxed into him.

Sleep wasn’t easy, but you got there in time. It even lasted for a while.

Just not long enough.

In your dreams, there were flashes of things that didn’t make sense. They were jumbled together like white noise on a TV, occasionally screeching with color, and mostly red with blood.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

Ben was a light sleeper at best. He was startled awake in confusion, disturbed by how you had been tossing and turning and making sounds of distress. He turned toward you and moved his arm to make room for you, but he decided he would let you come to him this time.

You didn’t disappoint him. You reached for him and buried your face in the crook of his neck for a while, trying to ground yourself in him. He held you and rubbed your back until you calmed down.

When you pulled away slightly, and spoke his name in the dark, Ben looked into your eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn you were there. The real you.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you whispered.

Ben was disappointed. This wasn’t you remembering. But at least, this was you being you, thanking a man like him.

He just nodded and guided you back into his arms. You let him hold you for the rest of the night.

AN: So close, but yet so far. 🥲

But just wait for the last part...

Next Time:

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around your body. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

#reader appreciation #wake me up feedback #lovely review!

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Note

Ch 17 was so, so, so good (thank you!!) 🥺 i am still processing. ((Edit: this turned into an essay so i Am Very Sorry in advance, there is a tldr at the end though))

First of all. We get to see Din going through it the same way sweet girl was a couple chapters ago and I love it! She’s been so clear from the start that she doesn’t want to run away from him and now Din’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to chase her anymore because he just wants her to be physically there with him again. The second night of comms while she’s camped out at the orphanage?? “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it.” ??????????? i am a Puddle of Emotions no one look at me 😭

And then the way he’s so unsure about whether she hasnt begun to reconsider wanting to keep up with his bounty-hunter life now that she’s finally gotten a break if being forced to outrun a mandalorian can be really even be called a break for the first time in a year?? And he can SEE all the places she’s stopped to talk to people on this planet (his comment about the number of times the blond guy turned around to talk to her in the line? 🥺.) Din knows she’s enjoying these small encounters with people, getting to interact with a new planet and learn new things as she’s making her way through each place, and since they’re only talking at night he gets to think about it literally all day long as he follows her trail and tries to figure out what her plan is. This is truly an exercise in Din thinking nonstop about sweet girl (which ofc he does already, but like, thinking critically about what she thinks/wants/does/needs and why) and I feel like that’s causing him to slowly start to second guess himself in terms of where he would put himself on sweet girl’s list of priorities. And I wonder how much of this he’s actually considering for the first time? because it’s always him who leaves and comes back when he gets jobs — this is the first time that sweet girl has left him instead of the other way around. Sweet girl has had tons of time to think about these things, whereas Din hasn’t really had to... because it’s not the one who leaves who feels the absence most, it’s the one who’s left behind (even if just temporarily).

I can just picture Din’s increasing doubts as the chase keeps going, whether he’s worth putting up with his lifestyle and whether sweet girl wouldn’t rather have a life like the people he sees in the footprints around hers? because he knows her, knows she likes soft beds and meeting people and fresh fruit and beautiful scenery, which are all things that living on the razor crest can’t always provide except for the last one bc Din Djarin IS beautiful scenery let’s be clear and just. the ANGST. I cannot. ( a n d meanwhile sweet girl is having a breakdown thinking he wants to STOP looking and LEAVE her? As if)

So when she shuts down his tentative doubts about it on the second night she’s at the orphanage and Din starts asking questions about favorite animals and flowers and things?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I lost it. Din is mirroring the love and care he receives from sweet girl (and learning to tap into those emotions as he does) and I am just in awe of both his character development from ch 1 to here and your ability to show that gradual shift in your writing.

Tl;dr thank you very much for this latest chapter! I will continue to be a soft emotional little puddle for the foreseeable future, or at least until I can figure out to scrape myself off the floor and function like a human being who has not just read rough day ch 17 and promptly dissolved as a direct result🌻

okay

okay first of all ma’am/sir/friend, please do not put tl;dr’s on a fucking MASTERFUL DISSECTION LIKE THAT like I genuinely hope people read every word of what you have written because you’re so spot on about everything that I was almost taken aback JEJFJJDJFJF

I would like to say, and I need to do this in list form because you have presented so many beautiful points that I’d like to address them one by one,

1.) Din Djarin is used to being alone. Full stop. Like even with sweet girl helping out with the baby and agreeing to stay on the ship while he goes and grabs quarry, he’s gone for weeks sometimes. He is used to being by himself, to fending for himself, protecting himself, patching himself up, EVERYTHING by himself. He is the most independent self-sufficient driven bounty hunter Karga has on the payroll and he’s reliable, which is why Karga would give him four pucks at a time. Giving anyone else four pucks would mean that if they happened to die during their hunts, then more than one puck would be lost and that’s money down the drain. Din doesn’t die, he always comes back with all four bodies and he’s fucking quick about it. Him telling sweet girl “I thought this was gonna be alright” is apt, because he’s been able to exist without her and do good work while he knows she’s safe on the Crest. In fact, the only time he EVER didn’t do good work is when a) she was attacked on the Crest on Corellia, or b) when he desperately wanted to get back to her as quick as possible and he pushed himself too hard and put himself in danger (aka frozen on Hoth scene). And actually c) when he stole Grogu back from the empire and had Karga and the guild on his ass about it. Those were the only times Din had trouble doing his job. The only times he stopped looking and gave up. “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it” means that YES ABSOLUTELY DIN DJARIN DOES NOT LIKE STAYING PUT WHILE SHE LEAVES, even though he’s okay with going out and doing his job when she stays. Even though he’s still hunting, it’s like the roles have been reversed. She’s understanding his side, and he’s understanding her side. It’s been 4 days and he hates it, so imagine weeks or months of that. Not being able to move or chase after her either, just hanging out on the crest with Grogu and waiting to see if she’ll be able to make it back. Which

2.) makes it hurt just a lil more in that wonderful delicious angsty way when he actually asks if she wants this life. On Naboo, he didn’t know where she went or where the kid was—he didn’t know if they were in danger, if she was safe. He said he’d rip the galaxy apart to find her if she ever disappeared like that again. But... she’d be safe on Sanctuary II. This is different, and just like you said, he’s had multiple days where all he did was try to think like her. Get in her head, predict her. Understand her more than he’s ever attempted to do before, in a NECESSARY capacity, like he would a bounty he’s hunting. Din Djarin is used to being alone. He’s used to being silent and that’s how connections are severed before they can even be established. His only practice at empathy was through his job, a job that he is very very good at, but it was never enough to get him to stop looking. He would never be able to empathize enough to ask if the bounty wanted him to stop looking for them. Even with the baby, he turned him in at first and then let the guilt eat him alive before going back to save him. So, if you couple that with his true connection to sweet girl, the natural empathy he has for her and the kid (him immediately following her after he accidentally snapped at her on the Crest and apologizing) and Din is now TRULY beginning to understand her on a level he’s never experienced with another person

3.) BUT!!! Even though he “needed to ask” (meaning he understood enough to know that asking the question was necessary) he started out the entire conversation by admitting he doesn’t think he could do it. Before ever telling her what specifically he doesn’t think he could do, he already knows this about himself and says it flat out. I don’t think I could. Even if you asked me to, even if you said you’d be happier if I did, even if you told me right now that it’s what you wanted, I don’t think I could ever stop looking. And a lot of the turmoil he experiences is because of that. I make you sleep on the floor. I teach you to fight when you just want to look at waterfalls. I do all these things that you’d never willingly do yourself, and I’m a bad person BECAUSE I still want you to always be here with me in spite of all that.

4.) Meanwhile sweet girl just has no fucking clue all this is happening and it seems to come out of nowhere, all she knows is that he’s been in the city when he should’ve caught up to her days ago. She’s out experiencing things and meeting new people and yet she always comes back to Din and the baby and how much they should be here with her. She tries to come up with clever ways to outthink him but she also offers to give her coordinates to him practically every single night. Her wanting to be with him so bad but trying to hold out (“ask me again tomorrow”) while Din is also wanting to be with her so bad and also trying to hold out (“find her again tomorrow”) 🥺

So yeah basically in conclusion I love them together and they’re so different but they make each other somehow both stronger and softer in so many ways and yeah u mighta heard of DD/LG u kinky fucks but lemme present to u DD/SG

#ask #anon #I am so sorry I rambled so long jshdjdjdjddh #rough day spoilers

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bloodstainsontengensfloor · 4 years ago

Text

Tsumiki and Megumi childhood HeadCanons!

*some slight spoilers on what happened to Megumi’s dad

———————————————————————-

BEFORE the abandonment:

-Megumi didn’t like Tsumiki when they first met. She was so happy... why? Like him, she only had one parent and didn’t have the nicest things. She smiled despite not having the nicest clothes, not having the nicest toys, and with not having a dad.

-They walked to school together and Tsumiki would just talk his ear off

-Megumi didn’t really warm up to her until he tripped and scraped his knee and Tsumiki’s entire cheerful demeanor changed and she went to fretting over him

-It annoyed him but at the same time... made him feel happy

-He warmed up to her gradually after that. She always checked in how he was doing as his dad started to check in less and less

-Megumi was aware that his dad didn’t care for Tsumiki’s mom as much as someone you married should, and was surprised when he found out that Tsumiki shared the same sentiments

-Tsumiki and Megumi’s dad... she was a ray of sunshine to him of course and he... had literally no clue how to deal with it. He also didn’t like how a second grader was a better parent than him, but in the end... he knew Megumi would be in good hands

-(If he stayed around, Tsumiki and Toji would have a relationship like Hori and her dad for Horimiya I take no arguments)

AFTER the abandonment:

-Megumi’s dad left first. he didn’t really understand what was happening or why his dad stopped coming to say goodnight and then stopped coming home at all

-Tsumiki was emotional over it for the sake of Megumi and her mom, and started to do little things like get Megumi small gifts when they would walk from school- little stuffed animals (the first one was a dog ofc), chocolates, candies, etc.

-When Tsumiki’s mom left, leaving only a little money behind, Megumi expected Tsumiki to cry or shut herself in, but she didn’t. She took on the role of taking care of him and barley took care of herself.

-He didn’t know why his non emotionally constipated sister wasn’t crying and was smiling. Why was she not showing her hurt? Her dad left her and her mom, and now her mom left her too.

-”Don’t worry about it! She’ll be back soon!” Tsumiki had said when making breakfast for them.

-Oh, Megumi thought, she was in denial.

-When the denial ended, Tsumiki didn’t show any evidence of going through the other stages of grief. When he asked her about it one day, Tsumiki sighed, and looked really tired. “I saw it coming. I don’t remember my dad much, but I remember how he was in the days leading up to when he left.’

-”Stupid Sister,” Megumi said as Tsumiki tried to do the dishes. “Go to sleep. You suck at cleaning anyway.”

-A year of them living alone was fine. Neither of them asked for anything too much and Tsumiki tried to hide the fact that the money was running low as a year was about to pass

-Megumi was having trouble sleeping one night and he and Tsumiki were playing hand shadows. and then. DOGS. Tsumiki screamed but then started coddling them whereas Megumi was just like shocked.

-Megumi was confused at Tsumiki’s naivety but eventually the dogs melted into the shadows again

-Enter creepy dude with white hair.

-Tsumiki saw him talking to Megumi, got a broom, and attempted to whack this giraffe on the head

-But infinity kicked in, and Gojo was invited inside to explain everything.

-Literally everything. Tsumiki asked a lot of questions and was taking notes. If this was something Megumi would be involved in, she had to know as much as she could. They would have been more skeptical had Megumi not discovered his technique.

-Gojo stayed the night by accident, and woke up to Megumi and Tsumiki using the stove, cooking food etc and he wasn’t surprised that they could do this, but rather annoyed that a second grader and first grader could do this and he couldn’t.

-When Gojo ‘officially’ became their guardian, he teleported into the house with party poppers and the certificate yelling “IM YOUR GUARDIAN!”

-Tsumiki just was in shock for a moment before politely smiling. She was more of an adult than this teenager at this point.

-Megumi just deadpanned and went “Why”.

-They had a nice little dinner after that, and because Gojo would always spoil them, they both got luxuries they never had before.

-They got like phones and ipads or ipods or whatever was the most popular product at the time. Tsumiki was so grateful and embarrassed whereas Megumi was annoyed but accepting.

-Tsumiki and Megumi would eat dinner together, and with Gojo whenever he came

-Tsumiki kept on trying to get Megumi to open up a lot more, and he always gets annoyed over it and will rarely ever talk about how he’s feeling

-Except that one night when Megumi had a nightmare that he was alone. Alone in the shadows, unable to summon anything to help him or comfort him, and just wandering down a dark, dark road. At one point, he entered a hall of mirrors, and he saw Tsumiki in one. He was so scared at that point that he kept on trying to get to her but she changed mirrors every time. Megumi shattered every mirror with his fists, cutting them open. In the end, all that was left was a lily flower.

-Megumi, aged 10, woke up crying silent tears and ran into Tsumiki’s room. Tsumiki woke up, concerned but aware that her prying would get her nowhere. She sat up and Megumi hugged her so tight. He ended up sleeping in her room for the next week after that.

-”Megumi..’

-” I’m gonna protect you-”

-”i.... okay.’

-Tsumiki never curses... unless talking about her father, her mother, and Megumi’s dad

-They are both aware Gojo killed him, he almost let it slip when first meeting Megumi and he relayed the info to Tsumiki.

-One time, Gojo asked about Tsumiki’s parents. Megumi was asleep at that point and Gojo was terrified.

-seeing the nice, angel, sunshine 12 year old he knew for years curse worse than Utahime whenever Gojo was remotely near her??

-Please, Tsumiki’s abandonment issues are off the chart. That’s why sometimes she gets too involved in Megumi’s life because she cannot lose him. No matter what. He’s her little brother who’ll scold her if she works too much or tries to take care of too many people.

-Now... for some reason, I Headcanon Tsumiki has lesbian, or having at least some kind of wlw vibes. Idk why...

-Tsumiki told Megumi first ofc, and he didn’t understand why it was a big deal.

-”Ok and?”

-”y-you don’t think it’s weird?”

-”You can like who you like, it isn’t hurting anyone. If you wanna date a girl, date a girl.”

-Tsumiki was grateful to have a brother like Megumi

-Now as for Megumi’s possible coming out for whatever his sexuality (personally i headcanon him as pan, but this will be opened ended for whatever you headcanon)

-Tsumiki just got so happy for him. Began researching everything about it.

-”AWWW MEGS!!”

-hugs. lots of hugs. Always.

-As they got older, they started to but heads more. but despite whatever petty arguments or fights they had, at the end of the day, they loved each other and would do anything for each other.

-and sadly... I gotta add some part of

AFTER THE CURSE:

-Megumi came in yelling and screaming. The denial?? He was convinced this was some prank to get him to stop fighting kids.

-It broke Gojo’s heart. It was the most emotion he ever saw from Megumi and that kind of hysterical accusation of it being a prank soon dissolved into full on sobbing. Gojo hugged the boy as tight as Tsumiki would

-”Never again... I’m... I’m going to get stronger. Then no curse will hurt her again... that’ll work right?”

-Gojo patted the boy head. “Yea... it will. But it won’t be easy.”

-Megumi’s emotions settled and he quickly wiped his tears away. His emotionless expression returned but it was different... There was more fire, more resolve, as he said “i know.”

-Every Friday he visits Tsumiki. He tells her everything that happened in the week.

-”And then he ate it. Tsumiki he may be more naive then you. He ate the finger.”

-When talking to Tsumiki, he reveals his ability to tell stories. Like it’s amazing. He can distinctively set up a scene and gets a little more emotion in his voice.

-God Forbid if Kugisaki or Itadori ever saw him when he told Tsumiki stories

—————————————————————

WOO! This has been in my drafts for a while, so here! I hope you enjoyed!

Thanks for reading!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro tsumiki #megumi headcanons #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk headcanons #jjk anime #anime #siblings #toji fushiguro

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Pleasing The Duke {1}

Duke of Hastings/Rege Jean Page x OFC Jemilla “Jemi” Remmington

Warning: Plot, Regency Period Piece, Slow Burn, LOTS OF WORDS

Words: 5.7k

Summary: After your four weeks on the marriage mart and the tumultuous way yours and the Duke’s budding friendship that turned into a faux courtship, then a real crisis that could have tarnished your name forever, you are now married to the Duke. Only this is no traditional marriage. The Duke has professed to never fall in love, never get married, and never sire an heir, a matter you know nothing of. Furious that his wanton, lustful desires have gotten him to forego one of those vows, he is determined not to break the other two. That would usually be an easy feat. Only with you, it might be more challenging to keep those vows, seeing as no matter what, you are the only thing on his mind.

Note: Inspired by Rege Jean Page’s portrayal of Simon Bassett. This fic will not have any other characters from the series, except Lady Danbury, mainly the portrayal version of her by the incredible Adjoa Andoh and maybe Queen Charlotte portrayed by Golda Rosheuvel. This series will focus on The Duke and an OFC female character and will be a sultry and erotic historical romance. Anyone under 18 is advised not to read.

***Let me know if you guys want me to add like glossary terms at the end of the chapters for period specific words/items.

***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Julia Quinn’s characters, nor the Characters established by Bridgerton. I own the rights to the original characters created in this story.

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Chapter One: The Duke & Duchess Of Hastings

“I pronounce you husband and wife.”

You kept your back straight and your limbs stiff though you felt at any moment either or both would give way, sending you tumbling to the ground in a heap of white lace, silk, and tulle. Perhaps you’d even be sucked into the ground for good measure, you thought. No one spoke once those words had been uttered. Almost a full minute passed before the clergyman spoke again.

“Eh-em, I declare you husband and wife.”

You gulped and slowly found your head swiveling toward the man beside you. a man who was practically a stranger, a man you’d now found yourself joined to until you were parted by death. Your husband—The Duke of Hastings. When your eyes met his, you noted a look of strangled fear and disgust. His jaw was clenched, and he looked as if he were seconds away from revealing the contents of his stomach right on the front of your gown.

Long moments seemed to pass with the two of you just gazing into each other’s eyes. This was not the gazing of enamored lovers or even lustful suitors. It was the gaze of a man who’d been forced into a marriage he did not want and a woman riddled with guilt for her part in it.

“Your grace.”

Simon’s head snapped back in front of him to find the clerk holding out the book he was to sign his name into. You watched as he took the quill from the clerk and slowly signed his name. He paused after every word as if he were seriously contemplating scratching his name from the book entirely. An act that was to be seconds took a full minute, and the entire time you wondered if he would turn to you and call the whole thing off, leaving you a ruined and jilted woman.

Simon held the quill to you for your turn. As you took the object, your gloved fingers grazed his. Even though your skin did not touch his, you shivered all the same—that was before Simon snatched his hand away to drop them to his sides. You glanced down at his hand that you’d ever so softly grazed a week or two ago and watched his fist clench tightly.

“Your grace,” the clerk repeated, this time to you.

Bringing your attention back to the book in front of you, you proceeded to sign your name beside Simon’s. Instead of writing the name you’d been accustomed to your entire life—Lady Jamilla Remmington, you signed your new one for the first time—Duchess Jamilla Bassett, The Duchess of Hastings. It looked strange to your eyes, but it did not look terrible.

“Congratulations, your graces.”

The voices began to overlap as each of those in attendance for the small ceremony extended their felicitations to both of you. Neither of you could find your voices or the words to reply to even thank them. There was nothing to be thankful for, you thought. You’d traded one unhappy future for an equally unhappy one, quite possibly more unhappy as you’d just entered the very thing you’d refused to—a loveless marriage.

Thankfully leaving the church, there weren’t people outside ready to shower the newlywed couple with rose petals and cheers. Unfortunately, you had to ride in the same carriage as your new husband. Simon sat across and diagonal from you, peering out the window at the scenery. Holding your bouquet of fresh flowers while fiddling with the blush-colored silk ribbon it was tied with, you watched Simon take a flask out of his coat pocket and knock back something strong from the whiff of it that caught your nostrils. He grimaced, then groaned before he looked at you.

The way he looked at you nearly made you stop breathing, not from him taking your breath away, but from the hostility you saw in his eyes. Simon grumbled before looking from you back out the window. Your stomach fell, realizing just how severe and hopeless your fate was. For the remainder of the carriage ride, you worked to keep your eyes off of Simon. It was a task that seemed more manageable for him than you.

Every so often, your eyes found their way back to him to take in other parts of him. Either it was the way his cravat looked around his neck, and the sly way peeks of his throat could be seen through the tiny slots, or it was the way he tightly gripped the flask he held. A flask he didn’t bother to hide. He was already so unhappy with you that he didn’t care to continue the ruse of propriety for you. It was disheartening.

Simon kept his jaw firmly clenched as he watched the scenery pass, but he didn’t look as if he were looking at the rolling hills or passing farms. He appeared to be looking directly through anything that passed. This was just day one of your “new” life, and if the two of you couldn’t muster any conversation, you didn’t know what hope there was for the future.

The carriage ride from the church to your reception took all of fifteen minutes, give or take a few. You’d tried to plead with your mother to forgo the reception, stating that it was outdated and unnecessary, but your mother wouldn’t hear a word of it.

“The wedding reception is one of the joys of the beginning of a married woman’s life. It is the time she greets the ton as a Mrs. She is no longer a miss. You will get to revel in your new role in front of all the other unmarried women. The reception lets everyone wish you well while being the source of envy in their eyes.”

You sighed, hearing her words in your memory from the night before. You did not fault her. she did not know the true way your nuptials had come about. She thought you and Simon had genuinely fallen head over heels while pretending to have fallen head over heels. She did not know about what had transpired to bring the two of you to this outcome. You didn’t dare tell her.

While a loving and kind one, your mother preferred her children, mainly her daughters, to be the supreme example of propriety. She had groomed you to be nothing but a proper lady. That meant you always had a chaperone when you were going most places. You were never alone with anyone that wasn’t a woman. Your hemline was the exact number of inches deemed appropriate, as was your neckline. It also meant that your education was top of the line—well, most of your education.

You learned to read, write, do arithmetic, play the piano, do needlework, draw, paint, sing, dance, how to catch the eye of a suitor, the propriety of courting, and how to run a household for marriage. Your accomplishments could have been seen as superior, but your mother said you had to be better than average. You had to be perfect. She pushed you further, saying because your skin color was different, expectations for you to be perfect were high. So, you expanded your education to learn two languages, French and Latin. Excelled in piano and learned to play the harp. You were quite accomplished, usually more than those around you.

The part of your education that was lacking was knowledge that went past things others could see. Your mother made sure to keep any discussions of inappropriate topics away from you and your sisters, only giving you the smallest of details. She sure stressed what was inappropriate but skimmed past any other things. It was while learning about science and animals that you grasped procreation at the most basic level.

You had plenty of unmarried friends. There was Tessa Carmichael, your best friend who lived across the road, Abigail Prowler down the road on the left, Edith Bunfeld down the road on the right, and Letecia Grother, whose aunt was on the neighboring street. All of you often spent your afternoons walking around the park and gossiping about many things, including the joys and privileges of married life. None of you really knew what to expect. Of course, many unmarried ladies tried to grill the ones who were married, but they all remained tightlipped. All they did was giggle into their fans, saying, “you will find out on your own.”

Here it was, the evening of your wedding day, and you still had no idea. Your mother had assured you earlier in the day before you left home for the final time as a Miss that “The Duke will take the lead, all you must do is follow it.”

“Your grace?”

You came out of your memories to see the footman holding out his hand to assist you out of the carriage. Once you stepped out, you rearranged your dress until Simon stepped out beside you. You watched him tuck his flask in his jacket before he held his arm out for yours without even sparing you a glance. Sighing, you looped yours with his and let him lead you into the building.

Once you walked in, the first people you saw were your mother and Landy Danbury. They both had bright smiles on their faces.

“Your graces,” Lady Danbury said, dipping her head.

“Oh, you know you never have to bow your head to me—never to me,” Simon said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at Lady Danbury.

You knew his affection for the woman went deep. You weren’t entirely sure about most of it, but you knew that she’d taken care of him helped him become who he was. You’d only known him about five weeks, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to peel back the many layers of The Duke Of Hastings. You suspected you’d need a lifetime for that. A lifetime which you now had.

“Are you all right, dear?”

You plastered a smile on your face and nodded.

“Of course she is mother, she is now a duchess,” your sister Jerrikka piped up as she came over to pull you into an embrace.

“You know very well I am not the type to hold so much weight on a title,” you replied.

“Is that so? Not too long ago, I remember you bragging you were to be a Princess,” Simon dryly shot out.

You glanced at him trying to keep the glare away. You remembered the conversation you’d had where you’d uttered those words and remembered why you’d said them. You’d wanted to pointedly show him that you were desirable though he behaved as if you weren’t. Perhaps part of you wanted to enrage him or garner any reaction from him at all. He’d been so damned stoic. It was next to impossible to know what toiled in his head.

To not draw suspicion of trouble so soon after wedlock, Simon smiled at you. It almost looked like a real smile, a warm one, but his eyes remained cold—detached. He then led you into the ballroom, and as he did, all eyes floated to you. Everyone in the room held broad smiles on their faces as they dipped down into a respectful half curtsey or head bow. You and Simon both returned the gesture before the members of the ton flooded around you, each offering their happiest felicitations for your marital bliss.

You kept your back straight, face neutral, smile stretched, and hoped it shone all the way to your eyes. Your eyes always gave away whatever you were thinking or feeling. It was what you considered your fatal flaw. Your mother could hide everything behind her relaxed expression and only allow others to see what she wanted. Even, your sisters, Jerrikka and Jacinda, could remain relatively stoic, you were the one who was cursed. Your father always called you his little lightning bolt because of how quickly your emotions flashed.

By the time the congratulations finally subsided, it gave you time to take your first ever taste of Ratafia. Your mother had never allowed it. She said it was for married women. You and Jacinda had only been allowed one glass of cordial at any event. Once you’d had your one glass, it was lemonade after that.

You were standing close to the fireplace in the corner of the room. It gave you a good view of all that was happening. Simon was beside you, slightly turned away with one elbow resting on the stone of the fireplace. His stance allowed you to take in his side profile. Even standing leisurely with his other hand on his hop and one leg crossed over the other, he still looked regal. Before you thought it was conceit you sensed in him, but you’d come to see it as pride.

It wasn’t a detrimental pride or one that said he thought himself high over others. It was a different kind of pride entirely. It was one that made him more attractive in your eyes. His slim but masculine frame you’d gazed over tens of times over the last month always set your curiosities running wild. Right now, you found yourself wondering if all of him had the muscles he’d displayed two weeks ago when he rolled up his sleeves.

You hadn’t even seen your brothers in that state before. he was the first. As your eyes traveled the length of his body, you raised your glass to your lips and took a sip of the coveted Ratafia that many ladies seemed to love. Your eyes stopped at his backside, and that was where they remained. The liquid passed your lips and washed over your tongue.

The most unexpected flavor filled your mouth. It was one that was stronger than anything you’d ever tasted. As soon as you swallowed it, you began coughing. Simon’s head spun to you with a worried expression.

“Are you all right?”

Your response was another fit of coughs, which made Simon take a step toward you.

“Jemilla?”

You held up your hand as you cleared your throat once more.

“Good heavens, this is absolutely terrible.”

Simon’s eyes flittered between the glass in your hands, your face, and back to the glass. Slowly a smile spread across his lips before he pressed them together.

“Is this your first time having Ratafia?”

You nodded.

“How? Every lady in London has a Ratafia habit they think no one knows of,” he said with a smirk.

“Is that so?”

“Why yes. Look.”

He stepped to the side then nodded his head to the ladies of the ton. You looked at a few of them, and each of them brought glasses of the horrid tasting drink to their lips, including your mother, older sister, and Lady Danbury. He was right. It would seem the ladies did have a liking for the thing.

“How is it that your mother and sister drink it regularly, but you have not?”

He was facing you again with plenty of curiosity in his eyes. Needing something to do, you nearly raised the glass back to your lips—nearly.

“My mother doesn’t let any of us have this. She says it is for mature married ladies. So I did not qualify.”

Simon nodded and raised his glass of Brandy to his lips.

“I see. So, now that you are in the company of those married but not quite mature ladies, you decided to partake.”

Curiosity nipped at you now. Tilting your head to the side, you took him in.

“Married but not quite mature ladies? Pray tell what you mean by that, your grace?”

Simon didn’t attempt to speak. He just took another mouthful of Brandy and studied you with the utmost scrutiny. A hint of mischief flickered across his face before he scoffed and turned away from you, taking up his same stance from before. You could have tossed the remaining Ratafia in your glass at his back. He’d always had this uncanny ability to wind you up since the day you’d met. It still hadn’t changed. Your mother said that it was a blessing, and it would mean your marriage would not be a bore.

“It figures you would regress into a state of cowardice at the mere spark of a conversation,” you speared, knowing it would rile him up.

As expected, Simon spun around to face you but also took the three steps needed to be only inches from your face.

“Did you call me a coward?”

You fought a smile. “I wouldn’t dare, your grace.”

You knew he heard the sarcasm in your voice.

“All right, your grace, I shall educate you, but only a little. You are married, as sure as that bauble decorates your dainty finger, but just because you are married, it does not make you mature,” Simon reiterated.

You waited for him to continue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you anxiously wanted to hear the end of his thought. Your eyes dipped lower than his to his mouth and watched him smile. That smile was something that was growing on you every time you saw it. You realized the dryness of your throat then, and you snaked your tongue out to wet your lips. His eyes dropped to your lips and stayed there for several long moments.

Simon leaned an inch closer. He could almost touch your nose with his. “You are not mature until you have woken the next morning in nothing by the bed sheets, with aches in muscles and places you never knew you could ache, and a road map of marks along your body all made with nothing but lips all from your first night with a man,” he said in the most alluring voice.

A strange feeling washed over you, and you feared you might actually swoon. Clouds seemed to fill your head as your entire body became so heated as if the fire you were standing near had caught on your body. You tried to control your expression, all the while Simon watched you. After a few seconds, Simon’s jaw clenched, making the muscles in his neck jump.

“Maturity, your grace, requires a toll be paid, and it must be paid over and over and over,” he finished. A scowl replaced his clenched jaw, and the thought that he felt disappointment made your stomach sink.

“And how many tolls have you collected, your grace?

Simon looked caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t a dignified question. One does not ask a man, even if he is her husband, such things.

“Plenty, but remember one needn’t make it an all-night occasion. Five minutes or so in a parlor could suffice.”

Jealousy hit you, and you couldn’t hide it. Simon smirked, then scoffed, but the smile slipped and was replaced with a frown.

“Well, my husband, the rake. I am surprised you wed at all.”

Simon looked pained, but you did not focus on it.

“As am I, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” He muttered it, but you heard it through. Instead of letting another emotion slip, you raised the glass to your lips and drank it all down in one agonizing and sicking move. Once finished, you walked off, leaving him there.

Mere hours into your marriage and things were already falling apart; you thought as you walked out of the ballroom and outside into the chilly night air. You took a deep breath, held it, and did it again and again. The man made you angry and flustered in under five minutes. You couldn’t help but reminisce about your time casually talking at balls and events around London while you were on the marriage mart. He’d been terse to begin with, but slowly he’d warmed to you.

You’d developed the beginning buds of a friendship that took you by surprise but was welcoming. While every man in London was trying to put their best foot forward to entice you into marriage, Simon was not. He showed plenty of his bad habits, his cynicism and preference to see the worst in people, his inability to see the true heart of those in his company, his stubbornness, his temper, and on some occasions, his rakish ways. It didn’t matter, you never judged him for it, and you could tell he appreciated it.

“My, how things have changed,” you said to yourself once you were under a wide-spanned tree sitting on the stone bench.

You closed your eyes and listened to the night, finding comfort in the chirping crickets, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves, the faint rolling of the wheels from passing carriages, all backed by the orchestral music from the ballroom. Slowly your anger subsided. You didn’t even know why you were angry. You’d known he had no plans to marry. It was one of the very first things he’d told you, and he repeated it on so many occasions it was seared to your brain. The Duke of Hastings was not in want of a wife. Yet, here you were married to him, all because of one night similar to this one.

It was your fault. You felt as if you’d left him with no other choice. You thought back to the night that had changed everything. You didn’t know what you were doing when you allowed him to cross the lines of proper distance between two unwed people. The only thing you could think about when he slowly came closer and closer was how badly you wanted to know what he smelled like underneath his cravat. For weeks the casual way he had it done with the different materials that were so much more vibrant than others always drew your attention.

In your few moments of stupor, Simon had managed to come so close you could see the small flecks of auburn within his eyes. His unexpected closeness made you swoon slightly, and his arms were there to catch you and hold you against him. It was your first time being close to a man that was not either of your brothers. Even then, there was some distance.

Simon’s hand then grazed your cheek and trailed down to your jaw before curving back to where your earlobe hung. You’d lost whatever strength your knees had and slumped against him just as his finger dipped down your neck and coming across your collar, and it was there he stopped. It took several moments for his finger to plunge lower until it dangled right above the rise of your breast. When he dipped his head down while maintaining eye contact, you began to shake in his arms. He took a deep inhale at the swell of your breast.

“You’re trembling like a leaf, are you cold?”

You shook your head slightly.

“Then what are you, Ms. Remmington?”

You could smell the brandy on his breath, but there was something else too, something you couldn’t make out.

“Quite fevered,” you whispered.

Simon took another deep inhale of your skin then moaned.

“Goodness, you smell of roses, night jasmine and--,” he inhaled again. “Orange blossom. You smell like my best dreams, Ms. Remmington.”

Your breath hitched. Simon came closer and closer until his lips hovered over yours. You should have moved and chastised him about impropriety, but you stood there while the hand that was at the middle of your back slid lower and lower until you felt his fingertips pressing into the flesh just above the swell of your bottom. The action brought your lower half firmly against his. You didn’t know what you felt, but it was something. His lips only slightly grazed yours before you’d heard voices approaching you. He’d been the one to pull away from you first and apologize profusely before he’d walked off, leaving you pressed against the wall of roses that was right behind you.

“Already hiding from your husband?”

You opened your eyes and saw your best friend, Tessa, standing there with a teasing smirk.

“Tessa.”

You began to stand, but she stopped you, sitting beside you instead.

“Your grace,” she said.

Scoffing, you bumped her with your shoulder. “Oh, stop it. Do not tease me. I am still Jemilla. I will hear no nonsense of your grace from you.”

“I know you are Jemi, but you are also a Duchess now. It would be faulty to not acknowledge it, especially in public, at least once.”

You sighed and fiddled with the new ring on your finger underneath your white gloves.

“We are not in public now. It is just you, and I so do away with it.”

“Very well.” Tessa remained quiet for a few seconds before she turned to you with an excited smile. “All right, show it to me.”

You pulled off the glove and showed her the wedding ring Simon had placed on your finger earlier in the day. Tessa gasped, grabbed your hand, and brought it closer to her face.

“Oh my. I dare say the Duke has excellent taste. It is quite beautiful. While most husbands give their wives one jewel, yours had bestowed you a bevy.”

You snorted and looked out into the night while she continued to gawk at the bauble.

“So why are you out here and your new husband nowhere in sight?”

You bit your bottom lip then looked at her. You’d told her everything that had happened between you and Simon. You’d told her the reason your engagement was so quick and that there was no love between you and him.

“Oh come, come, Jemi. I know you wanted to marry for love and desire and passion, but just because your marriage did not start that way does not mean it cannot end up there,” Tessa suggested.

“Tessa, be realistic. I have told you the things he has said about marriage. He came to town with no intent on marriage.”

“And look, he is married now, in mere weeks no less. Jemi, a man will say all sorts of things to prevent something, but from this day on, he is yours.”

It was then you thought back to his words by the fireplace.

“And how many tolls have you collected, your grace?

“Plenty, but remember one needn’t make it an all-night occasion. Five minutes or so in a parlor could suffice.”

You could have laughed out loud, but you didn’t. He hadn’t been yours before, and you doubted he was now.

“Tonight is your wedding night. Perhaps you shall feel differently in the morning,” Tessa said, a broad smile spread across her face.

You knew what she was insinuating. You had heard the chatter of a woman’s wedding night but had heard nothing of consequence. All you and Tessa were left with were speculation and plenty of possible theories and fantasies. Tessa stood and held out her arm for yours. After slipping your glove back on, you looped your arm with hers and allowed her to lead you back into the ballroom.

Once you were seen, your mother approached you and swiftly brought you towards your new husband, then enticed him to dance with you for all the ton to see. Simon, of course, complied, and the two of you drew every pair of eyes. Rather than looking directly at him, you kept your eyes somewhere neutral, somewhere that it would appear to others you were staring into his eyes.

“Remember what I said to you the first time we danced like this?”

“We’ve never danced like this, your grace.”

“You are right; our titles, or rather your title, has changed but are we not the same people?”

You fell into the trap and met his eyes.

“Are we, your grace?”

Simon peered deeply into your eyes as if he were looking for that very answer.

“I am told we have our entire lives to figure it out.”

Feeling your face beginning to shift to give away your inner feelings, you looked away, back to his ear.

“Stare into my eyes.”

They were words he’d said before, in the exact manner. You ignored his instruction, though the urge to obey pulled at your willfulness.

“Jemilla,” Simon said in a low, deep voice.

“Stare into my eyes.”

You caved and darted your eyes to his. Simon held it for a few moments.

“If this is to work, we must appear madly in love,” he said.

The words garnered almost the same reaction as it had the first time he’d uttered them. The only difference was you were well aware that appearances were not nearly all that they seemed. It had worked a little too well, and now you were married and so far from madly in love.

By the end of the evening, your feet hurt from all the walking around and dancing, and your head throbbed slightly, probably from the music and being unable to eat even one bite due to the anxiousness that had plagued you all day. After you’d said your goodbyes to your siblings, mother, and friends, you climbed into the carriage with Simon, unsure just where you were heading. You didn’t pay too much attention to the darkness outside the window because your head was too caught up in thoughts of what was to come.

You fiddled with your gloved hands, your bouquet that you’d nearly stroked all buds from all in an effort to take your mind off of things. After thirty minutes in the bumpy carriage, you saw a large tree pass by. You looked around you, trying to figure out where you were.

“Where—where are we?”

“One of my estates, Briarvale, Simon answered.

“Briarvale. I thought we were going to Clyvedon?”

“No, Clyvedon is quite far, much too far to travel tonight. Briarvale is the in-between point. We will stop, rest for the night, then continue on and should reach Clyvedon by late afternoon next.”

You nodded and lowered your eyes. “I should have made you aware of the plans before. I am afraid I am so used to consulting no one I did not stop to realize I now might have to. I apologize.”

He didn’t sound angry about it, just remorseful. Maybe he was being sincere. When the carriage stopped, the jarvey opened the door and helped you out. Some torches lit the entire walk path to the front door, where two servants were standing at either side of the door. Simon stepped out beside you and cleared his throat.

“After you, your grace.”

You walked ahead while taking in the large home before you. It was two times bigger than the one you’d spent half of your life in, and you imagined Cleyvdon would be four times larger than this one. You never imagined marrying this wealthy. Wealth was never one of your concerns at all.

“Welcome, your graces.”

You and Simon walked inside into the foyer.

“I will let you get settled,” Simon said before walking off, leaving you standing there and wondering where he was going.

One of the maids led you through the house to the stairs. As you climbed them, you took in the paintings on the wall and the wood’s shine. It was a well-kept residence. A few minutes later, the maid stopped in front of a door.

“Your room, your grace.”

“Thank you. what is your name?”

She looked surprised by your question, but she still answered. “Ingrid, your grace.”

“Thank you, Ingrid.”

She smiled and bowed her head, and waited for you to walk inside. When you did, the fire was crackling, making the large room very inviting.

“Is everything to your liking, your grace?”

You nodded. “Thank you, yes.”

Ingrid nodded, then walked out of the room, leaving you with your thoughts. You knew he would come, so you waited. You took the time to look around the room at the different paintings and objects and even examining the material of the sheets on the bed. Still, Simon hadn’t appeared. That was when your pacing began and did not stop. After pacing for quite a while, you finally stopped, then took off your shoes and waited some more. When another ten minutes passed with no Simon, you peeled off your stockings but hesitated to remove any more articles of clothing.

When you were sure you’d waited an hour more, you got annoyed and walked to the door. As soon as you opened it you saw one of the maids passing.

“Hello there.”

The young woman turned, startled, then dipped down to a bow.

“Your grace, is something the matter?”

You were embarrassed even to ask her this. “No, nothing is wrong. Have you—do you know where—has his grace retired for the evening?”

The maid gave you a curious look. No doubt she was thinking that you should know better than her. He was your husband, after all.

“Uh—no, ma’am. His grace is still in the study. Would you like me to deliver a message?”

“No! No. Thank you.”

You went back into the room, closed the door, and sighed out. She undoubtedly found it strange, and you worried you’d be the gossip of the house in the morning. You began undressing as you’d done plenty of times before then climbed into bed, leaving your petticoat on. Instead of going to sleep right away, you sat up and waited.

You didn’t know what was going on or what to expect, and that was the part that gave you the most anxiety and distress. After another hour, it was clear to see that Simon was not coming. You didn’t know what to think or feel. The very little you’d been told to expect still made no sense, especially since it hadn’t happened. Or had it? Your mother told you that your husband would take the lead. Had Simon taken the lead by staying away?

After going over it tens of times in your head, you snuffed out the candle that was on its last inch of life and lay down to stare at the upper canopy of the bed.

You were married, but his actions had proven the line was drawn, and you were on opposite sides with chasms between you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#pleasing the duke fic #rege jean page fanfiction #the duke of hastings fanfiction #regency fanfic #the duke of hastings x ofc #bridgerton fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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swanhookheart · 4 years ago

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Angry Grishaverse book review time!

After watching and LOVING s1 of Shadow and Bone, I read the trilogy! I was not impressed.

Spoilers incoming for Grishaverse stuff, so if you don’t want those, don’t read on!

Watching Shadow and Bone this past weekend, I was hooked : Darklina, the lore behind the amplifiers, the Aleksander backstory… I was really impressed and hoped that this was it--that at last, I’d found a fantasy series that was going somewhere big, something I could really, thoroughly sink my teeth into.

*Sigh*

Then I read the books.

The reader / viewer enters the Grishaverse associating darkness with pure evil. The Fold, described early on, is shown to be this bleak, awful, ruinous place where people go to be eaten alive by volcra and hope goes to die. We therefore, naturally, associate the Darkling--who possesses the power of shadow--with that evil from the off. I’m speaking as someone who only got into the Grishaverse last Saturday. My initial thoughts were, “oh, he’s being set up to be viewed as dark and scary; this is the expectation Bardugo wants us to have so that we’ll be blown away by some great twist later. Count me in!”

But that twist never came. He was set up as evil, and he stayed evil. Surprise, he’s the Black Heretic! Surprise, he’s an abomination effectively created by Morezova’s greed! Surprise, he’s ruthless and horrible and does cruel things! Except none of those things are actually surprising, given he was SET UP from the beginning to be viewed that way. He did bad things, walked a bad walk, and talked a bad talk. I kept thinking “ah, so he’s gonna get a sweeeet redemption arc,” and then he just never did. That element of the story was predictable to a nauseating degree, and that predictability made the entire universe feel a bit flat. If the reader saw more of his backstory, had more real, logical, sound justification for why he does the things he does (like in the show, where they at least tried to paint his actions as borne of some misplaced sense of servitude / protection for the Grisha or where we saw him actively struggling at points to grapple with the darkness inside him), then maybe the trilogy wouldn’t have been such a letdown. And yes, I know about his sacrifice or whatever later on. It’s not enough.

In villains, I and probably plenty of others like to see humanity. We want to empathize with our villains to a certain extent--to understand them just a little bit--so we can fully commit to hating them when they violate our trust. The Darkling didn’t have that human, redeeming quality, though--at least, not in the books. In the books, he was just a power-hungry jackass who simultaneously didn’t want to be alone and kept trying to kill his only opportunity not to be alone. His single-mindedness, his lack of human empathy, the simplicity with which he pursued this made him seem almost stupid to me as a reader. For someone who’s lived hundreds of years, he’s kind of an idiot when it comes to other people--which, itself, almost seems incongruous with his having lived for so long. If he’d maybe had more backstory or more in his story to justify his actions, maybe he’d feel like a better villain. But atm, all I’m doing is rolling my eyes with him. I couldn’t love him because he didn’t put in any work toward being a better person. Even in the end, he doesn’t actually do the work or repent. But I also can’t hate him because the source material hasn’t given me enough actual human qualities to hate or to feel betrayed. His character just… missed the mark for me.

As did Mal’s. Fucking MAL, oh my GOD! This dude’s literal only personality trait was loving Alina. Cool, he could track--for Alina, mostly. He could fight--for Alina. “I am become a blade”? Sir, you got a whole-ass tattoo announcing that you’re an object in this woman’s service? No WAP is worth that, and I’m speaking as a very bisexual woman. My dude, it’s weird, it’s extra, it’s just too much. I’ll go back to the Darkling for two seconds to say that, ofc, his actions were painted as problematic and misogynistic and gross. But, like, the possessiveness Mal displays with Alina kinda feels on that same level? Why are we pretending he’s better when he actively tries to keep her low, keep her powerless, and keep her his? Again, dude got a tattoo of her sigil. He was fully prepared to be the leader of her guard even if she married Nikolai just for the opportunity for some sexytimes. I know that YA is about really intense emotion, the fire of teenage hormones and stuff, but that all just felt a bit toxic. The way that his entire life revolved around her while she tried to balance the role of saint, hero, orphan, and all the things she was just felt goofy and like a wildly unhealthy dynamic.

Their whole relationship also felt really obvious, as I guess the Darkling being revealed as the trilogy’s big bad did. It was predictable, set up to be that way from the start. There were no surprises. It was Mal, and then it was still Mal, and in the end, it was also Mal. We weren’t really shown any of what made them so drawn to each other, we were just kind of told and expected to be fine with the intensity of it. But it read as being way too much for me, and god, it kept getting worse. Again, this one felt like low-hanging fruit--low effort, lazy writing. Nothing about it actually read to me as romantic, just as too much. They didn’t so much as fall in love as just start out that way, and reading that was somewhere between boring and uncomfortable. At least with the Darkling or hell--even Nikolai--we saw some of that chemistry unfold on the page. We were shown some of what made them work the way they did. There was something underpinning their relationship, and not just “oh, they’re supposed to be together”. I mean, after all JKR’s bullshit, I feel totally fine saying fuck authorial intent. If you can’t even be bothered to actually put your shit on the page, don’t ask me to blindly accept your version canon as gospel truth.

We could have had Deckerstar vibes, Beauty and the Beast vibes, seen light and dark come together and surprise us by actually working well together. But no, we saw a special girl lose everything that made her special and settle for some mediocre fuckboy from her hometown. We get characters that actually have the potential to be dynamic and make for a good story, but she still ends up with this bland, vanilla, trick-ass bitch? It’s a major letdown when you’ve actually been exposed to decent fictional couples, tbh.

OOF! And the ending? Oh jesus fuck, that ending. Darkling just… dies. Just like that. I read three whole books for that? I know he comes back and dies again and all, but the whole trilogy felt like it was building up to something more, something deeper and greater and more profound. He was horrible for the things he did, sure, and he deserved defeat as long as he refused to waver from his power-hungry, destructive path. But his death brought about no closure. He and Alina never actually had the fight they needed to or reached an understanding with each other. Everything is left undone, unsaid, unexplored. The ending just felt super anticlimactic on the page, and so, the trilogy as a whole fell completely short of any mark I hoped it might hit.

Did I hope Darklina would be endgame? Sure. But I’d also have been A-okay with a tragic ending if it had been done right. Did I think it would have been a lot more interesting to see a redemption arc for Darkling than just… more of the same? Or maybe Mal develop a personality outside of Alina? Absolutely. There was so much potential, and it really feels like Bardugo squandered all of it. And for what? This was nearly as disappointing as the eighth season of Game of Thrones. I probably won’t be watching future seasons if they follow the books, but I guess I’m glad for the day or so of fleeting pleasure I got when I still had hope for a properly told story.

#Shadow and bone #anti-mal #darklina #shadow and bone spoilers #grishaverse

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sillyrabbit81 · 4 years ago

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The Pull

Summary: Alternative Universe. Vampire Henry. Henry, Crown Prince of the Vampires is avoiding his responsibilities because of his mother's fate. When Henry finds his mate, the circumstances are eerily similar to his mother's. Rather than risking his mate's life, Henry chooses to run, but can he run from his fate?

Pairing: Henry x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.5k

Warnings: off screen death, mentions of slavery, implied blood drinking

Authors Note: Thanks to @henryobsessed for beta reading and support!

Masterlist

Part 19 Part 21

Part 20

Henry

A week after our initial meeting with Alex; Felix, Fawn and I were forced to return to court. It wasn't ideal but we had a plan, and my poor Little Fawn was going to be integral to its success or failure. I wish she had more time to prepare but circumstances forced us to act quickly.

During the week, Lawrence and David had arrived, bringing Angelica with them. Felix and Angelica's reunion was so intense that we all left the house for half the night. Fawn in particular was affected by it, being such a new Vampire meant her Lust was easily brought on either by hunger, desire or heightened emotions. Other than that one evening, we all stayed together in the lodge.

Fawn and Angelica got along well too, which was perfect for our plans, her knowledge of women and their activities would play a part if our plan to overthrow my father with as little bloodshed as possible could be achieved.

The past week was tough on Fawn. She would spend her days with Charlie at Alex's house, I would spend most of my time in meetings with Alex, his two guards, Felix, Lawrence and David. When Fawn would arrive home, she would get lessons on how to behave in court, how to address people, Angelica taught her about the machinations of the females in the court as best she could, although I can't imagine much has changed in 120 years. We, vampires, tend to move slowly. Then she would meet with Lawrence and start preparing for her role in the uprising.

We had an argument about what she was expected to do. I almost put my foot down and refused to allow her to be involved, but I was the only one who said no. I even implored David to ask her to stop, but he wouldn't.

On the fifth night, we heard a rifle shot. Felix was patrolling the area around the lake house and cried out urgently, "We may have been discovered."

I told David to come with me and told Lawrence to stay with Angela and Fawn. I expected a fight from her, but she didn't argue.

David and I ran to Felix as we ran David spoke to me, "This is the first time we have been alone and I wanted to say, thank you for treating my sister so well."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" I asked annoyed. David shrugged. "And yet still offered her to me as you did that night."

He shook his head, "It's not what you think Henry, I had no idea about the political aspect of Lawrence's plan. All I knew was how happy being with Lawrence made me, how whole I felt after finding him. I wanted that for Row. I knew she was increasingly lonely with me not being around the last few years. I thought she had suffered enough and deserved happiness. You had always seemed like a good male to me."

We were close to Felix, but I thought David and I needed this chat. I checked that Felix had the intruder under control and slowed to a walk. "Have you and Lawrence discussed what he did?" I asked David.

He nodded, "Yes. I made my displeasure known, but I couldn't stay mad at him. The only person he loves other than me is you. But more than both of us, he loves Vampires and loves our world. I think he would destroy anything and anyone to maintain who we are and our way of life. He loves humanity, and what they offer, culturally and scientifically. For some reason I don't understand, it seems despite our long lives we have little interest in that."

"The only fields we seem to thrive in is philosophy, music and the arts. You'd be surprised how much comes from our kind. But you're right we don't make full use of our lives the way humans do. And I also think we would be poorer if they were not free to make their own world." I said. "I'm glad you and Lawrence have reached an understanding. You are right, Lawrence does love Vampire society. He can be very single minded as you say, but he is a very good man, with a good heart."

David and I found Felix and I hissed when I saw whom he had captured. "How on earth did you manage to kill Louis?" Louis was my father's assassin. He was beyond deadly and my mind reeled at how Felix could have stopped him. He was dead with a hole in his chest.

Felix looked as confounded as we were. "By accident really, poor Louis here is getting a bit long in the tooth it seems. Or cocky, I'm not sure. Anyway, he had a silver accident." Felix held up a sniper rifle and said, "I smelled him as he approached and grabbed this from our stash."

"Well, I suppose we have no choice now," I said. "Tonight, we return to court." I hoped my Little Fawn was ready. "I have some arrangements to make, can you two take care of the body? Burn it?"

They agreed and I returned to the house, calling Alex on the way.

"Henry," Alex said, "to what do I owe this phone call at 1.24 am."

"Sorry, I didn't check the time. I would have called anyway. My father sent an assassin after us. I don't have any more details as he is no longer able to speak."

"That's a shame, he may have been good company."

"It is what it is. Anyway, we have to move, we will be returning home and presenting Fawn to court. Are you ready for that? Do you need me to leave Felix with you.?"

"No, I think we will be fine."

"Alex, I'm sorry you have to go through this tomorrow. I'm sorry, you couldn't work out another way as we did," I said with sincere sorrow.

"Just promise me you will take care of my family if all goes to shit." Alex just as sombrely. "I'm trusting you not only with my son but with my mate, daughter and mother."

"I know Alex, but I know you will be there for Fawn if anything happens to me." Shifting my tone, I said, frustrated, "Couldn't you have tried to talk her out of it?"

Alex surprised me by laughing, "Henry, she stood up to me in the middle of my first transition period, and you know how volatile young wolves are. She's not only stubborn but courageous as hell. I think she needs a new nickname, she was never really a Fawn, more of a lioness."

Despite everything that was happening, Alex made me chuckle, "Yeah you're probably right." I wondered if he knew about her calling me a Lion.

"Keep me updated tomorrow."

"Will do," I paused hesitantly. "I wanted to hate you, Alex, I really did. But I understand why she was with you."

Alex was quiet a moment and then spoke honestly, "The way I treated her and Charlie is the biggest regret of my life. I felt so guilty, but she has forgiven me, and I'll never understand why. I'm so grateful she has you now, I can see you appreciate her." He chuckled, "I will still fuck you up if you hurt her. My boy needs his mother."

"I would expect nothing less. Make sure you explain to Charlie why she couldn't come to see him before she left. I imagine we will be away for quite some time before she can see him again."

"Tell her I will," Alex said. "Good luck."

"May the Goddess bless you with abundant hunting, a warm fire and a fertile mate," I said, in the ancient wolf tradition of goodbye.

"And may She bestow that and more unto you," Alex said reverently and we hung up.

I pulled everyone together and told them we had to leave immediately. Work began fast and the cars were packed quickly. Felix and Angela went in David and Lawrence's car leaving Fawn and I alone.

My Fawn was holding back her tears, but I know her thoughts were on Charlie, knowing that she may not see him again for some time. She had been strong in front of the others, but now she was falling apart.

"You can cry, Inamorata. You don't have to hold your tears back," I said.

"I know," she said. "I'm so worried about everyone."

"I know." I slipped took her hand in mine, giving her a comforting squeeze. I wanted to tell her it will work out, that we will make it, but with our bond, she would know the hollowness of the promise. But we had done all we could to ensure that at least Charlie and Sierra would be safe. They would leave with Alice at first light, only to return when the turmoil was over.

"Your father terrifies me," she admitted.

"He won't hurt you, Fawn," I said. "Not in front of the court anyway. He won't get to you I swear it."

"But what if the plan doesn't work?" She asked. I knew I should have fought harder; we were all expecting too much of her.

"Fawn, we can stop right now," I said, perhaps with too much hope that she will agree. "You don't have to go through with it."

"I do, though," She said and by the set of her jaw, I could see how determined she was despite her fear. That was her true courage. She wasn't brave because she felt no fear, she was brave because she felt fear and acted anyway. "What about you? Who will protect you?"

"I will have Felix and my guard." I felt her body relax a bit at that. "You were scared for me?"

"Of course. I was. I mean Alfred could kill me, but you would still be a threat. If I were him, I'd kill both of us, followed swiftly by Lawrence and Felix. If he only kills me, he will have to deal with you, either now or soon after. He's better off killing both of us than just me."

I was shocked by her words. "Little Fawn, where does this ruthless streak come from?"

"It's not what I would do. It's what someone like him would do. He's obviously a narcissist, and he has had absolute power for over 500 years. It's almost no wonder he is how he is."

I couldn't disagree with her analysis, but I thought it was time to tell her more about my father. "Do you know why he hates humans?" I asked.

Fawn shook her head.

"He's over 800 years old meaning he survived the middle ages, a time of very high superstition. Many died, burned at the stake or shot with silver arrows. My grandparents were killed this way."

"Oh, that's awful. I'm sorry Henry."

I shrugged, "I never knew them obviously, but it seemed to have truly affected my father. Ever since he hated humans so much I think he avoided them or bided his time until he could strike back at humanity."

"It's horrible that his parents were killed, but that doesn't excuse him wanting to turn us into blood slaves."

"No, it doesn't. but it explains much of his behaviour. Especially towards my mother. I think he hated humans so much he didn't succumb to the mate bond. But, like human royalty, a bastard wouldn't do. So, he took her mated her and abandoned her as soon as he could."

"Well, now I know why you are so empathetic to humans."

"Most of us are Fawn. Especially the women and male mates like David. Which is why I need you to gain their support."

Fawn nodded, "I understand." Then she blushed, "It's stupid, I know, but I think I'm most afraid of having to exchange blood in front of everyone."

I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. I wasn't sure how I felt about it either. I probably wasn't concerned for the reasons she was. The thought of my father seeing her being taken like that made me furious. "I know," I said gripping the steering wheel tight. "But we must. Even Lawrence and David had to do it."

"But it's such an intimate thing. It would be like having sex with you in front of the court."

"Even humans had that tradition for royalty for a time. Be thankful we also stopped doing that."

"Are you kidding? You used to have to fuck in front of everyone?"

I nodded. "My father got rid of that tradition. The only good thing I've seen him do. But the marking must be confirmed in front of everyone."

"Thank God for small mercies."

"Lilith," I reminded her. "The first Vampire. Kind of our patron saint." I smiled.

"Ok," Fawn said sarcastically. "Thank Lilith then. Although, other than bringing me you, I'm not too happy with her at the moment."

My Little Fawn continued to ask questions and reinforce what she had learned about court life on the way home. I didn't mind her babbling because it seemed to keep her occupied and not dwell on Charlie or her fears. However, as we approached home about two hours later, she was getting more and more anxious.

"Will we have to do the ceremony straight away?"

"Yes, Father will be in court until just before dawn. You will have just enough time to change into the dress and then we must begin."

"The dress?" Fawn asked.

"Yes," I said. It was supposed to be a surprise but, I thought it might help with her nerves. "I had my mother's dress altered to fit you. I wanted her to be there in some way and it will help with the plan. I don't have much of hers, just that and a book."

Fawn's eyes filled with tears and she remembered the image I had sent her of my younger self, crying into the dress. "That dress?" She asked.

I swallowed. We were too close to home to allow myself to be swept up in the emotions and my Lust. "Yes, Fawn. That dress."

"Oh Henry," she said. "You didn't have to do that. I know how much that means to you."

"You mean more to me than the dress, my love," I assured her. "And you will get to meet Jane."

Her voice was hard as she said, "Jane?"

"Yes, Jane, she runs my apartments for me and has been busy preparing them for you. She has been with me since I was a child, her mate Dante runs my personal guard. Between them and Felix and Angelica, they raised me."

"Well, then I can't wait to meet her," Fawn said and I suppressed a laugh at her jealousy. She looked in the distance and saw the castle loom on the horizon, "Is that your home?"

"No, Little Fawn," I said, raising her hand to mine I kissed her knuckles. "It's our home."

Part 21

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #vampire!henry #henry cavill vampire #henry cavill x ofc #vampire x human #vampire #werewolf #alexander skarsgard

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crystal-witchiness · 3 years ago

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***Okay so I found this in my notes from May 2021 as a reaction to the scenes in the beginning of Endgame when Captain Marvel first brings Tony and Nebula back to Earth, when they first get off the ship, and when Tony yells at Steve a few scenes later when he looks like ‘Death Warmed Over’ in his robe and i thought I’d share -

Every time someone argues with me about my ABSOLUTE 100% belief that Steve and Tony had romantic feelings for each other, I’ll just show them this scene. “And I needed YOU.” He didn’t say “You guys” or “Your help.” Tony looked at Steve with so much pain in his eyes and said, “I needed y o u.” And Steve is just as broken watching Tony. This isn’t the first time this has happened between them. They had MANY scenes like this in Civil War (but I like to pretend that movie didn’t happen cause ‘ow blow a hole in my ship why dontcha?’) I mean technically I could submit that whole movie as evidence of their feelings but there are too many negative emotions wrapped up in it and it hurts. This movie is the first time they’ve seen each other since Civil War and when Tony first gets off the ship he basically falls into Steve’s arms. First of all, Steve fricking S P R I N T S when he sees Tony getting off the ship, then Tony sighs in relief and lets Steve take his weight. AND IMMEDIATELY begins unloading his grief about losing Peter cause he knew Steve would understand and comfort him. You can SEE s e e when Pepper runs up that (Ofc Tony does another sigh of relief that the snap didn’t take her (which I wish it did sorry Pepper your character stopped being interesting in the 2nd Iron Man)) Tony has to pull himself off of Steve and pretend to have it more together than he does because Pepper immediately begins crying and Tony has to comfort her. But Steve doesn’t leave his side. Tony cradling Pepper but he’s turning his body so that Steve can cradle him and ugh. Honestly I would have accepted a polyamorous relationship. Tony NEEDED someone to be the leader. THATS LITERALLY WHAT PEPPER WAS TALKING ABOUT. Tony NEVER rests because he always thinks he has to be the one to do everything, EXCEPT for when Steve’s around. Steve is the Captain and even though they bump heads (a lot, awww couples’ squabbles) Tony ALWAYS defers to Steve when it’s important. And Steve? Steve HAS to be a leader, to be helpful, in a healthy way because he couldn’t be that for most of his life in the past. He was a scrawny defenseless guy who always had to depend on Bucky. So to be able to take care of this group of wonderful people who are so powerful and yet STILL NEED STEVE? It’s who he his. It’s who Tony is too but he doesn’t WANT to be that way, he does it because he has to. He does it when no one else can or he doesn’t want to lose anyone else. This scene right now is Tony feeling helpless and so he lashes out at the easiest person, Steve. Steve is their leader and has saved them many times. Tony saw that picture of Peter and couldn’t handle his own feelings of helplessness so he lashed out to bring down the next ‘leader figure’ of the group. Steve and Tony have always been the parents of the Avengers. Steve is the most dad-est dad ever to dad. Meanwhile, Tony invites everyone to live with him while feeding them, clothing them (armor and civilian clothes) and making sure they have top of the line protection. HE LITERALLY EVEN SAYS THIS IN AGE OF ULTRON. SUCH a mom. So he wanted to make Steve feel his pain because Steve made a promise that they would lose together and Steve wasn’t there on that moon. And OF COURSE Tony knows that Steve was on earth fighting his own battle against Thanos but he wasn’t WITH Tony. And they are always stronger together than apart. (Civil War kinda proved this too) Tony sees Steve’s absence as the reason they lost, because ‘if only they’d been together’ ‘maybe we could have won if we’d only been together.’

ALSO DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON TONY LITERALLY GIVING STEVE A REPRESENTATION OF HIS HEART. I know he did it out of anger and to make a point but he took away this piece of him, that he made SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE HE FELT VULNERABLE WITHOUT THE ARC, and gave it to Steve. Once again shedding that responsibility and giving it to Steve. Because even with the residual anger over Civil War, Tony trusts Steve. He says otherwise in this moment out of anger but that “vision” he talks about here? He literally watches Steve die (YEAH THATS RIGHT I SAID STEVE. Not PEPPER, NOT RHODEY, NOT ANY OF THE OTHER AVENGERS.) Wanda showed him his worst fear in Age of Ultron and it was the death of the Avengers, but he didn’t see THEM die. Everyone else, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were already dead. Tony watched STEVE die and it was STEVE saying that Tony could’ve saved them that spurred him into creating Ultron. He was so scared of losing them and letting Steve down (and letting him die) that he wanted to wrap the whole world in armor to protect him. And he tries to do it again in this scene. He means it to be spiteful but he gives Steve his armor and tells him to hide from Thanos. WHICH IS ANOTHER THING UGH. Tony doesn’t know that out of all of the people who fought Thanos in Wakanda that day, Steve was the one who engaged in hand-to-hand combat with him. Everyone else had armor and suits, weapons, etc. Steve has his serum strength and he u s e d it. It didn’t help for very long but he used his BARE HANDS to fight an alien-monster wielding 5/6 of ALL POWERFUL infinity stones, and ofc he was never going to win, but even Thanos looked at Steve in incredulity at his bravery and resolve. A human (a super charged one at that but still a human) fought him with his bare hands and wasn’t going to stop. (Steve proved this again at the end of Endgame when he’s the last one standing against Thanos and his entire army and just tightens the strap on his broken shield, (and most likely broken arm, based on the flinch/hiss) and readies himself to fight alone. Steve also gave Wanda time to destroy the mind stone (unfortunately, that didn’t mean anything in the end)

AND YET Tony doesn’t know any of this. He doesn’t know how hard Steve fought, just like Tony did on Titan, to stop Thanos. And I REALLY wish we had seen Tony’s reaction to Steve standing up to Thanos at the end of Endgame OR EVEN WIELDING MJOLNIR, but anyways.

Back to the basics. Boss level stuff most people don’t remember or think about- Tony’s dad very unhealthily IDOLIZED Steve. He canonically compared everything Tony did to Steve. So Tony grew up idolizing this man that he also despised because it fueled his father’s abuse of him. Tony shows this anger in the first Avengers. When they have their argument on the quinjet. “Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” He even says something about how Steve didn’t live up to his father’s hype (I don’t remember Tony’s exact words but that’s the gist) And ofc Steve says Tony’s nothing without his armor. But then they go on the prove each other wrong multiple times, but mainly in their last moments in the MCU. Steve proves it by standing alone against an ENTIRE alien army and later by picking up mjolnir. And Tony? Tony is that ONE factor in a million that Stephen sees. Tony, a beautifully pure human-being, with no powers or serums to help, takes on the powers of the stones. KNOWING it would kill him. He had proof. It nearly killed Thanos and Bruce and they were hulking (pun intended) beings with super strength and all that.

Tony and Steve were always set up to be spoils to one another and that makes them perfect together. They balance each other out. Pepper was a boss b****, no doubt, and I loved their relationship in the first two Iron Man movies, but as their characters grew and Tony’s personality was intrinsically changed through trauma- Pepper was no longer right for him. She was good for him, no doubt, but Tony couldn’t relax with her as he did with Steve. Tony could trust Steve to take over and everything could be fine. Pepper was like that for Stark Industries but not in other ways. Tony always saw himself as Pepper’s protector. I will 100% give her props for telling Tony that he’d never rest until he tried Scott’s time travel theory, but other than that she wasn’t particularly supportive of Iron. Man. What Pepper never seemed to understand, and what Steve didn’t understand when he FIRST met Tony, is that Tony and Iron Man are synonymous. Their is no ‘man outside the suit.’ Tony Stark is Iron Man and Iron Man is Tony Stark. Steve was placed into an already created persona of Captain America. Steve didn’t create Captain America even though that’s who he was. He was literally MADE for the role. Tony on the other hand, MADE Iron Man. He was the one who built the first suit - dying in a cave in Afghanistan. He was the one who took responsibility for Obadiah and his father’s actions and became a superhero to save the countries that were affected by Stark tech. Steve may have volunteered to be a superhero because he felt like he had no one other choice but Tony DIDN’T HAVE TO. He had fame, money, power, ALL OF IT. He could’ve EASILY hidden his company’s dark underside once he found out. But instead, Tony was like “Hey um so my company has done some bad things and instead of delegating aid through my money and power, I’m going to personally handle this with a titanium alloy suit and technology that I helped create in a cave while being held captive by a terrorist cell.”

Where was I going with this? OH YEAH.

I will believe in TonyxSteve (Stony) for the rest of my life and I will use fanfiction to fill the void of their deaths. Basically, if I lost anyone in the word vomit above, what I’m trying to say is that- Steve and Tony completed each other. They provided something the other needed. Tony needed stability and protection. He needed to feel like he could let go. Steve needed an anchor in the present. Someone lively and opinionated, SOMEONE ADVENTUROUS AND FUNNY, who Steve could smile with and protect. But also. Steve trusted Tony to be a leader as much as Tony trusted him. They had their ups and downs. Trauma and the Accords didn’t help their relationship at all, but should’ve been it for each other. And I honestly believe they would have t h r i v e d.

Honestly I applaud anyone who made it this far. I don’t know where this all came from but I will not apologize✌🏻

I rest my case your honor.

#avengers endgame #steve rogers #tony stark #captain america #iron man #stony #marvel endgame #steve x tony #i will die with this ship #i ship them #rip stan lee

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cozy-the-overlord · 4 years ago

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Now, Forever, and Always

Summary: She was perfect—intelligent, entertaining, kind, beautiful... but mortal. Loki was determined not to lose her.

Word Count: 7,031

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: So this idea came from a made-up fic title sent to me by @the-emo-asgardian for an ask game a few weeks ago and has been living rent free in my mind ever since. I don't know why that out of all the nice, happy fic ideas I got out of that game, it was the depressing one I decided I had to write. Oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask :)

Read it on Ao3!

He knew better.

He hadn’t planned on remaining on Earth for any extended period of time. His forced servitude to the Avengers, his punishment—it was a nuisance that he would have to endure for a bit, but like everything else on the planet, it was temporary. Human lives passed with the beat of a heart. They would not hold him for long. Loki only needed to keep his head down and wait.

He knew better than to get involved with a mortal.

In his defense, it hadn’t been something he could have prepared for. At first glance, Madelyn Robbins was hardly anything remarkable. Her role as Stark’s personal assistant kept her in the periphery, the type of person one didn’t notice was in the room until she stepped forward with the answer to their question mere moments after it left their tongue. She was forgettable, unexceptional, a background figure that you weren’t supposed to notice.

But Loki noticed her.

He noticed her intelligence, how easily she picked up on concepts most mortals could never even begin to understand, how she seemed to remember anything and everything she heard and saw. He noticed her focus, how she was able to filter through the chaos of the Tower and retrieve the information she needed without ever having to raise her voice. And he noticed her boldness.

The first time he spoke with her was a week or two after he had first joined the Avengers, back when it seemed there was not one employee in the whole building with enough backbone to look him in the eye. Loki told himself it was fine with him. It wasn’t as if he was interested in making friends with any of them. He had been reading in one of the common areas when he noticed her standing over his chair, waiting expectantly.

He frowned. “Pardon?”

Madelyn’s smile didn’t waver. “I said Mr. Stark’s sending me out on a coffee run,” she said, clutching her tablet to her gray blazer. “I was wondering if you wanted anything.”

Loki glared up at her coldly, out of instinct more than anything else. “I do not drink coffee.” He had expected her to cower, but she only laughed.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” she nodded as she turned to leave. “But I just wanted to make sure.” Loki had watched as she made her way across the room to where Thor was talking with two agents he didn’t recognize. He didn’t hear what they said, but her musical laugh carried over his brother’s booming voice. When he turned back to his book, he found himself reading the same page over and over again.

She didn’t ask him for his coffee order again. Loki should have been pleased with that—she got the hint, she wasn’t trying to bother him—but as he watched her make the rounds with the other Avengers, joking together as she balanced the plastic cups on her tray, he felt only disappointment.

He started watching her from afar without really realizing he was doing it: during briefings, in the lab, at Stark’s godforsaken “teambuilding exercises”—she was always there, standing in the background, waiting to jump into action the moment someone needed something. She was quiet, but not a shy sort of quiet—she’d dive into conversation with anyone who gave her the opportunity to do so. No, Madelyn was a professional quiet. Loki found himself wondering what she was like outside the Tower, beyond the boundaries of her employment.

She was notoriously private about her personal life. Stark would tease her about it often, asking her loaded questions everyone knew she wouldn’t answer.

“You don’t mind staying late tonight, do you?” he’d smirk. “You won’t be keeping anyone waiting up, right?”

Loki would have been driven mad by such interrogation, but Madelyn always laughed it off. “I’ll worry about that, Mr. Stark. You just stick to your robots.”

Perhaps this was why it was treated as such a shocking turn of events when Thor announced that he had seen Madelyn’s boyfriend.

“It was in front of the building, on the street. They were embracing.” His brother seemed unreasonably proud to be the one to break the news to everyone. “He was tall, light-haired. Very handsome. I’d say they looked to be very much in love!”

As the others tittered over this gossip, Loki slunk from the room. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Madelyn was clever, kind, attractive—of course she had a lover. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if it affected him. Still, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

What kind of man would she love, he wondered? Someone gentle, probably. Someone who she could sit down and talk to knowing he was genuinely listening. Someone who would respect her choices and trust her decisions. Someone who could make her laugh—Madelyn loved to laugh. It seemed she was always giggling at something someone said, hiding her mouth behind her palm as her eyes sparkled with mirth. It was rather adorable. He had made her laugh before, once when Stark and Rodgers were arguing over some inconsequential thing. Loki didn’t even remember what it was he said; he had just rolled his eyes and made some dry remark, and Madelyn ducked her head into her hands as she chortled. When he turned towards her, she was smiling brightly at him. He found he was smiling too.

It was stupid, but Loki didn’t like the idea of anyone else making her smile like that.

The other Avengers didn’t seem to mind, and to Loki’s chagrin the mystery man remained a hot topic of conversation for the next several months. He couldn’t look at her without Thor’s words bleeding through his ears like poison in his mind: “I’d say they looked to be very much in love!”

Loki was thinking about it the day before New Year’s Eve, when Madelyn joined him in the elevator as he was returning to his rooms with her usual cheerful greeting. He nodded his hello. For a moment, they only stood in silence, but soon enough she turned to him.

“Are you going to Mr. Stark’s party tomorrow?” she asked.

Ah, yes. Stark’s infamous New Year’s celebration. Loki thought that he would prefer the scorching heat of a Muspelheim prison to spending the night with a skyscraper full of drunken mortals who despised his very existence, but Thor had made it clear that he had little choice in the matter.

“I’ve been told that I will be in attendance, whether I like it or not.” Madelyn chuckled, and Loki felt that familiar warmth rising in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Are you going?”

“Yeah, I guess. It would look bad if I didn’t,” she sighed wistfully. “I don’t know, I just always feel like such a loser showing up to these things alone.”

Loki frowned. Surely, attending alone was not her only option. “Your boyfriend is not accompanying you?”

Madelyn cocked her head, giving him a strange look. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said slowly.

For a moment Loki thought he was hearing things. “You don’t?” he repeated.

She shook her head, frowning. “Why did you think that?”

His mind was racing. “Thor—he said he saw you embracing someone in front of the building.”

“What!” she cried. “When?”

He told her the whole story, repeating his brother’s tale practically word for word in bewildered confusion. By the end, she was laughing incredulously.

“That was Dave!” she choked. “My brother-in-law, Dave! I left my purse in my apartment, and I needed my ID to get into the Tower. He was just dropping it off for me. Did everyone think we were a thing? Oh, that’s hilarious!”

She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve as Loki stared in disbelief. For so long, he had buried his thoughts under the belief that she was taken, that even if he allowed himself to want her she could never be his. This revelation seemed unthinkable.

“You’re not seeing anyone?” he asked.

“No!” She was still laughing as she shook her head. “I’ve been single for the past two years.”

“Oh.” Loki swallowed. He knew he should have left it there. She was mortal. She was temporary. Indulging the wild longing in his chest would only lead to more suffering. He knew better.

And yet he didn’t.

“Well, in that case,” Loki inhaled. There was a tremble in his voice—where had that come from?—that he hoped she didn’t notice. “Perhaps you would honor me with your company at the party tomorrow night?”

Madelyn turned back towards him “Are—are you asking me out?”

He burned. “I believe that’s the proper phrase.” This was a terrible idea.

But she didn’t appear to be offended. Rather, she sounded … confused. “Really?” she asked. “I just—I didn’t think you liked anybody here.”

“I like you.” He did, he realized, although it was strange to admit out loud. The simple truth was that the room lit up whenever she entered, and he lit up with it.

“Really?” Madelyn whispered. He nodded. “Well,” she said, a soft smile breaking out across her lips, “I like you too. And I’d love to go with you tomorrow night.”

Something bloomed in his chest, something lovely and wonderful and warm. He loved the way she smiled.

“Excellent,” he said, fighting to keep his elated grin from seeming too over-eager. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

It was scandalous, to be sure, when they walked onto the penthouse floor arm in arm on New Year’s Eve. It seemed the whole room fell quiet for a moment. In the back, Stark nearly choked on his drink.

Madelyn didn’t seem to mind. She pulled him through the hordes of people, the voluminous skirt of her dress swirling around her in an emerald sea. He didn’t know where she had managed to find a gown that so flawlessly matched his colors on such short notice, or how she had even known to look for one in that shade, but it was perfect.

She was perfect.

Stark’s holiday celebrations were always an adventure—they weren’t quite up to par with the unhinged chaos of Asgardian feasts, but they usually were hectic enough to keep Loki looking over his shoulder the entire time, half expecting to find some demon from his past lurking amidst the drunken partygoers. That night though, there was only Madelyn. She pulled him through the madness with the easy assurance of an expert, gliding with him across the dance floor as if they owned it. She knew all the nooks and crannies, all the little alcoves to which they could retreat when they wished to break from the noise to talk.

They talked a lot. She told him about her family, about her mother who went around telling all her brunch friends that her daughter worked alongside the Avengers for a living (“she leaves out the fact that I’m basically a glorified intern”), about her older sister who gave up her dreams of Hollywood to settle down with her high school sweetheart.

“He’s the one who dropped off your purse?” Loki interrupted as they sat at a bench against the wall on the balcony, overlooking the festivities below.

Madelyn laughed. “Yeah, Dave. He is a sweetheart.” She shook her head, still chuckling. “I can’t believe you guys thought he was my boyfriend. That’s so funny to me.”

“Well, my brother does have a tendency to jump to conclusions,” Loki sighed, watching Thor and his crowd of inebriated fools attempting to take shots off of Mjolnir’s handle. He turned back to his lady. “But you can’t place all the blame on him. We all knew next to nothing about your personal life. How was he to know better?”

“True,” she mused. “I like to keep an air of mystery at work. It keeps people interested.”

“Oh?” Loki raised his eyebrows. “If that’s the case, then why have you dropped the mystery with me?”

She scowled at him with mock outrage. “Am I not interesting enough for you, Asgardian?”

Laughing, he pulled back on to the dance floor.

It was fitting that the party marked the beginning of the New Year, because afterwards everything changed. It had been a while since Loki had courted anyone, and of course Midgardian “dating” was a bit different, but it brough a levity to his life that he hadn’t realized he needed. On the surface, it didn’t even seem that drastic a shift. Sometimes, it was as simple as a glance from her across a crowded room, that warm smile meant just for him, and suddenly the whole world lit up. Stark groaned that the two of them making heart eyes at each other all day made him sick, but Loki couldn’t care less. For once, life didn’t seem quite so wretched.

At first, they only spent time together within the Tower—after all, Loki was confined to SHIELD’s surveillance. He was rather ashamed of it, ashamed that he wasn’t able to take her out and show her a good time the way she deserved, but Madelyn insisted that she didn’t mind. She’d pick up sandwiches at a bakery down the street and they’d have dinner in his rooms while watching a movie.

He had to laugh—Madelyn had a list of film she claimed were a critical part of Midgardian culture that he just had to see, but inevitably they’d turn it on and spend the entire time talking over it about a subject only tangentially related. He didn’t mind though, and Madelyn didn’t seem to either—she’d rest her head on his shoulder and tell him all the differences between the film and the book which it was inspired by, and he’d wrap his arm around her shoulder and hang on to every word.

The first time she stayed the night had actually been an accident. It seemed that they both had miscalculated how tired they were after a week of wild missions and had fallen asleep together whilst cuddling on the couch. Loki woke up with the gentle pressure of her head on his chest and the warmth of her in his arms. He was smiling before he was even fully awake.

After a while, he began finding ways to sneak out of the Tower and meet her elsewhere. Her tiny apartment became the center of his world. He’d meet her for coffee or for dinner or just for a walk, and she’d take him home with her, so often that she stopped asking him if he wanted to come in. It was a peaceful kind of domestic that Loki had never thought to dream about. Madelyn was perfect—intelligent, entertaining, kind, beautiful, everything he could ever want. Sometimes, he almost forgot that she wasn’t Asgardian.

Her mortality would rear its head in other ways, though. One day, she tripped walking down the stairs as they were leaving her apartment building, tumbling to the ground before Loki could catch her. It wasn’t a bad fall, and Madelyn had scrambled back to her feet in seconds insisting she was fine, but her ankle had swollen up almost immediately. When she tried to take another step, she almost fell over again.

This time, Loki scooped her up into his arms. “Fragile little thing,” he teased, carrying her down the steps to a nearby bench.

They had laughed about it, but a week later Madelyn was still walking with a limp.

One night, he awoke with a start, sweating and shaking and gasping for air as Madelyn hovered over him anxiously.

“It’s a dream!” she was crying. “Loki, it’s not real!”

The bed was too hot. Loki ripped himself from the covers, hunching over the side as he struggled to catch his breath. Madelyn followed, rubbing his back soothingly as he fought to control the trembling in his hands. For a moment, the room was silent but for his labored breathing.

“Are you okay?” she finally whispered.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“You were crying in your sleep.”

Must have woken her up then. He tried to swallow, but his mouth tasted like sandpaper. “I’m sorry.”

Madelyn shook her head. “No, it’s fine! I was just worried.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Loki inhaled. “It was just a dream. No matter.” Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes on him, studying him in concern. When he moved to lie back down, she laid next to him, a protective arm around his torso.

“You’re safe here, okay?” she whispered. “Nothing can happen to us here.” Loki didn’t answer, only staring at the ceiling.

For once, it hadn’t been about him.

No, he had dreamed of Madelyn, stiff in a hospital bed, her cheeks hollowed and gaunt, her once vibrant hair now a thinned and faded halo on the pillow beneath her head. Her wrinkled skin sagged with the weight of infirmity. Her clasped hands rose and fell with her chest as the death rattle stained her wilted lips.

Loki tried to forget about it, but the image was seared into his memory. He couldn’t look at Madelyn without picturing her face caving into a haggard old woman choking on her last breath. It would happen soon, he realized, horrifically soon. Mortals had a hundred years if they were lucky, less if they weren’t. He spent sleepless nights lying awake in bed, listening to Madelyn’s steady breathing in the dark. 100 years—that was nothing. That was a blink of an eye, a beat of his heart, and then she’d be gone.

He couldn’t bear to think of it.

There was a story, he remembered suddenly on one such torturous night, a story his mother used to tell to him and his brother when they were small, about a goddess with magical apples that could grant immortality to those who tasted them. It was probably nothing, just a childish bedtime tale, but once it flitted into his mind Loki couldn’t get it out. After all, didn’t most legends have some basis in fact?

It was a myth on Midgard, too. He found it within moments when he looked it up—the story of Idunn’s apples. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. The human versions of Asgardian history had a tendency to be quite muddled. But … it was an idea. There had to be something, some way to extend a mortal lifespan. Without telling anyone, Loki began devoting his free time to research.

They had been together for several months when Loki decided to take Madelyn to Asgard for the first time. Frigga had extended her invitation to her a bit prior, but accepting hadn’t been an easy decision. He had watched Thor take Jane home many times over since he began his stint with the Avengers. He had seen firsthand how Asgardians looked upon mortals in their midst, even when the mortal in question were on the arm of their golden prince. He couldn’t imagine that Madelyn could expect any better treatment— in fact, given his reputation, it seemed safe to assume that she could expect worse.

But in the end, they decided to go. Madelyn was excited—her first time traveling off world— and Loki was eager to introduce her to his mother, who he knew would just absolutely adore her.

Secretly, he was also hoping that she would be able to help him with granting Madelyn immortality.

His mortal lover was a bit overwhelmed at first by their trip to the Golden City.

“I think I’m going to be sick” she whispered, clutching his wrist so tightly it almost hurt as they stepped off the Bifrost, and for a moment Loki feared that the visit had been a mistake. But she recovered quickly, and soon curiosity bubbled over her anxiety.

“What’s this made of?” she asked, wide eyes staring at the bridge beneath their feet as he helped her mount his horse. “Is it some kind of crystal? How does it work?” He couldn’t help but laugh as he climbed on behind her, pressing a kiss to her neck before spurring on his stead.

As to be expected, his mother took Madelyn under her wing immediately, greeting her with an embrace before swooping her away to help her unpack and dress for dinner.

Unfortunately, she was less helpful when Loki approached her later about his search.

“Oh Loki,” she sighed when he asked if she knew of any way to extend a human lifespan. “That’s the quandary of becoming entangled with mortals. Their lives are fleeting. You have to be able to accept that.”

No. Loki shook his head fiercely. “There must be some way,” he insisted. “The stories you’d tell us as children, Idunn’s apples—“

“Those were stories, my son.” He hated the pity in her eyes as she studied him. “She is mortal. She will grow old, and she will die. It’s the way of things.” Frigga took his hand in hers. “Enjoy the time you have with her. Don’t waste her life trying to save it.”

He ripped his arm from her. “That’s not good enough!”

She inhaled, holding the bridge of her nose. “You could ask your father,” she finally offered. “He may know something I don’t.”

Loki huffed in resignation.

When he brought forth his question before the AllFather, he had known Odin would never take it seriously. Still, he found himself tasting blood as his father’s ragged laughter echoed across the empty throne room.

“Is this the reason why you brought her here, then?” he asked. “You seek a cure for inferiority?”

“I seek to expand my lady’s lifespan,” he said, struggling to maintain his even tone. “She has no inferiority to cure.”

“Your lady,” he mocked. “Your lady, who you might snap in half with a wayward flick of your wrist. Would you not call that inferiority?”

Loki held his tongue. Try as he might to ignore it, there was truth to Odin’s words and he hated him for it.

“I seek to expand her lifespan,” he repeated. “Do you know of any method do do so?”

His father raised his eyebrows. “Unlike my sons, I’m not in the habit of keeping mortal pets.”

Loki seethed. “She is not a pet!”

“Your time on Midgard has made you as childish as your brother.” Odin shook his head, leaning back in his golden throne. “The mortal’s life is fleeting, insignificant. You would waste your time and mine trying to raise a dog to godhood.”

“She’s not a dog!” he snapped. “She’s not a dog, she’s not a pet, she’s my love and her name is Madelyn.”

“And in a century, she’ll be dust!” the king retorted. “Will it matter then what name marks her headstone?”

Loki stormed out.

It was pathetic, pathetic, that his father’s words still cut him so deeply, that his inconsequential views could still send him running with tears burning in his eyes like a slighted child. He stomped through the palace halls with no real destination in mind, heaving like some kind of animal.

He’d show him. He’d show them both. He’d find a way to save her. Somehow, he’d find a way to make her immortal, and then they’d see. They’d see.

He was shaking uncontrollably by the time he found Madelyn in the gardens, gathered in the middle of the brick pathways with Frigga and several of her ladies. It was strange— swathed in an Asgardian gown, with her hair done up in the latest fashion, one would never have known she was of Midgard.

She turned as Loki approached, her eyes lighting up as they always did whenever they landed on his. However, her gaze turned to a frown as he got closer.

“Loki, what’s wro—“ he planted his lips on hers before she could finish, cradling her face in his palms as he drank in her smell. Madelyn stiffened at first, but in moments she had melted into the kiss even as the court ladies tittered around them.

When they finally pulled away, she let out a flustered giggle. “What was that for?”

He studied her face, her sparkling eyes that seemed to hold whole galaxies, entranced. “I love you.”

Loki had never said the words before, not to her or any other woman, and yet they flowed from his lips as easily as a downhill stream. Madelyn’s breath hitched.

“What?” she breathed.

“I love you,” he repeated, his heart glowing with all the confidence in the universe, and he kissed her again.

When they returned to Earth, Loki threw himself back into his research with a new ferocity. He scoured the history of the Nine Realms, seeking just the slightest hint that what he was searching for existed. The myth of Idunn’s apples was a recurring subject, and he tried frantically to trace it to reality, but unfortunately, his mother’s assertion that it was naught but a child’s bedtime story appeared to be true. He couldn’t find any proof of them actually existing. Still, he spent nights at his desk, hunched over the scrolls Frigga sent him from the palace library, praying for something that continued to elude him.

Madelyn, unconcerned with her impending mortality, fretted he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

“Just come to bed,” she pleaded with him one night. “Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t need as much rest as you do, love. I think I’ll be fine.”

“But you stay up all night, and then they send you into the field in the morning!” she insisted, rubbing his shoulder. “That can’t be safe.”

He covered her hand with his own, gently stroking her knuckles. It never ceased to amaze him how soft her skin was. “You don’t need to worry about me, darling.”

But Madelyn was right, as always. He wasn’t getting enough sleep at night, and it was beginning to affect his reflexes. It was only a matter of time before it all came to a head.

In Loki’s defense, it wasn’t entirely his fault. The mission had been flawed to begin with, everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong, and Loki had ended up trapped in an underground Hydra base with no backup, no escape plan, and hordes of enemy agents closing in. Still, it was manageable—far from ideal, but manageable— until he miscalculated a dagger throw and hit one of their Tesseract-powered devices.

Shit—

He felt the blast more than he saw it, felt the burst of scorching heat that flooded the hall and ripped the air from his lungs. His vision burned bright white.

Huh, he remembered thinking, perhaps Madelyn and I will have closer lifespans after all.

She was the first thing he saw when he awoke, head buzzing and limbs too leaden to move. He opened his aching eyes and she was there, glowing in the light of the hospital room, his guardian angel watching over him through the night. When he croaked her name, her eyes swam with relief. She reached out to stroke his cheek, the chill of her fingers soothing against his feverish skin. He melted against her touch. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

“Madelyn,” he gasped. “Madelyn, marry me.”

He passed out before he could hear her answer.

They were wed on Alfheim, atop a picturesque cove overlooking the gardens of Ljosalfgard. Madelyn was absolutely radiant, her silver gown bathing her in a pearly glow as she practically sang her vows to him. Loki drowned in her eyes, drowned in the desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until they were both out of breath. He could have almost ignored the vow "til death do us part" had it not been for the pitied glance the Elvish officiants exchanged as she said them.

"I'm going to find a way to save you," he whispered against her hair that night as he held her to his bare chest.

Madelyn shifted, craning her neck so that she could fix him with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

A wayward strand of hair clung to her forehead. Loki pushed it away absentmindedly.

"Death will not part us, my love. I swear it."

She sighed. "Don't think about stuff like that. Not tonight." She leaned back against him, covering his hand with hers as she drifted off to sleep.

Loki didn't say anything.

Stark bought them a house in Upstate New York as a wedding present—a sweet, cozy little place not too far away from the new Avengers base. It was quiet, secluded, peaceful, everything he could have ever asked for.

If only he hadn’t known it was temporary.

Madelyn didn’t understand. She’d get up in the morning to find Loki pouring over his scrolls at the kitchen table, having never come to bed at all, and scold him for not taking better care of himself.

“This is ridiculous!” she snapped. “You’re going to kill yourself over this wild goose chase!”

“I have to!” he insisted. “I have to find a way to save you!”

She sighed. “You don’t need to save me.” Kneeling besides him, she took his face in her hands. “Don’t you see? I don’t care how long my life is, as long as I get to spend it with you.” Loki closed his eyes as he leaned into her palm, covering the back of her hand with his own. It was so simple for her. She didn’t understand how the image of her decaying features haunted his every waking moment.

They had been husband and wife for quite some time when he finally found something—a lead that might have the capability to save her from her ephemerality. Loki was ecstatic, more hopeful than he had been in years as he prepared to make the journey across the galaxy. Madelyn was less so.

“Look,” she worried as she watched race about the house packing a bag. “I’m glad that you’re so happy, but is this really worth the trip?”

“How could it not be?” he asked. “Once I return, you will finally be immortal, as you deserve. We will be able to live out our lives together forever.” Loki glanced up at her. “Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I want that, Loki!” Madelyn cried. “But more than that, I want you, here, safe. You don’t know what you’re walking into. You can’t even know how long you’ll be gone! What if something happens to you?”

He laughed softly. “You need not fear for me, my love. I will always return to you.”

Still, she remained unsoothed. “Please,” she said. “If you have to go, let me come with you. We’ll stay together!”

“No. It’s far too dangerous for you.” The very thought sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ll not allow the Norns to take you from me as I attempt to save you.”

“Loki …”

“Darling.” He kissed her, relishing the way she melted against him. “All will be well. I swear it.”

But all was not well. Months of searching in the very corners of deep space brought him nowhere, his false hopes dashed across the barren landscape of the planet her salvation. The scrolls had been wrong. There was nothing.

At first, Loki stayed out there, still frantically searching for something that could save her. He had promised, sworn, to her that he would find a way. He couldn’t return home empty handed. And so for a while longer he remained on the edges of space, traveling from planet to remote planet as he fought to find even the slightest hint of the solution he sought. But the time away weighed heavily on his soul. He missed Madelyn—he missed the curve of her smile, the melody of her laugh, the way she never seemed to tire of listening to what he had to say. He missed waking up to the comforting pressure of her head on his chest. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had barely made it up the driveway before Madelyn had thrown her arms around him, clinging him so tightly that he almost couldn’t breathe even as her tiny body shook with her tears. Loki tugged her closer, burying his face in her neck. She smelled like home.

Still, something held him from smiling when they finally pulled away.

“I failed,” he whispered, hanging his head. “I failed you, Madelyn.”

She shook her head, cupping his face with her hands. “You’re back,” she said sternly, “You’re back and you’re safe and that’s all I will ever care about.”

Loki hadn’t realized how long he had been gone until he returned. Madelyn was the same gorgeous creature he had always known, but he began to pick up on miniscule differences within her. She was thinner, her face more worn than when he remembered. He found himself repeating the same tales to her over and over again—she’d ask him questions about his journey, he would answer them, they’d talk about his answers until she was satisfied … and then she’d ask the same question a few days later as if she had never spoken it before. It frightened him.

At first, he would point it out to her, his fear manifesting in frustrated questions: “Didn’t I already tell you all this?” But he hated the way she flinched, how her face would fall as she murmured apologetically that she must have forgotten. He hated feeling as if he was causing her pain. So, Loki repeated his anecdotes and kept his worries to himself.

He feared for her physical health as well. Her hands had become stiff and swollen since he had seen her last, painful to the point that she now took prescribed medication to help her cope. On some days, it seemed hardly noticeable, but on others she could barely bend her fingers. Still, Madelyn insisted that it was fine.

“It’s no big deal,” she told him. “My mom had arthritis, I knew I was probably going to get it eventually.” With a dry laugh, she added, “I’m probably lucky—she always had it much worse than this.”

Madelyn’s mother had passed away while he was gone, the victim of the horrible human disease known as cancer. Madelyn didn’t speak much about it, not even to him. Loki felt guilty—he had unknowingly her left alone and without support in a time when she had probably needed it the most. He was also increasingly anxious—if Madelyn had already inherited one disease from her mother, who’s to say she wouldn’t also develop the far more deadly one? Loki found himself returning to his research.

It wasn’t until he started on the texts Thor had gifted him from his own travels that he thought he found something. A necklace of myth, purported to be held deep within the twisted forests of Terma, enchanted to bring eternal life to those who wear it about their neck. Loki arranged to leave for it immediately.

However, his wife put her foot down. “You’re not going again.”

Loki sighed. “I have to. Madelyn, there’s a chance that this could work—”

“That’s what you said last time!”

“I know. But I have to try.”

“Why?” she demanded, tone verging on hysterical.

He turned around incredulously. Why? “Because I love you!”

“No you don’t!” The walls rattled with the weight of her words. It was only then that Loki realized his wife was crying. His eyes widened in horror. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t keep leaving.” Her voice cracked, her breath coming in unsteady hiccups. “You were gone for so long. I didn’t know if you were okay, or if you were coming back—I was so scared—”

Loki pulled her into his arms, where she sobbed freely against his chest. It was as if someone had stuck a dagger in his gut. Everything he had done, every action he had taken—it had all been for Madelyn. That’s all he ever wanted, to protect Madelyn! And yet, it seemed he had caused her more pain than the forces of nature he sought to protect her from.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair as he held her to his chest. His vision prickled with tears of his own. “I won’t leave again, I promise. I’m so sorry, my love.”

He resolved to be strong. He would not think of what the future held; he would keep his mind in the here and now, safe and warm with his perfect wife at his side. And so he did, for a time. He’d read poetry to her out loud as she rested her head on his lap, telling himself that he was only imagining that the creases in her face seemed to be deepening with every passing day. Some nights, they’d join the others for dinner at the Avengers base, where the conversation would inevitably devolve into Barton and Stark arguing over who had the more accomplished grandchildren and Madelyn would doze off against his shoulder on the way home. There was a steady sort of domesticity to it, and Loki enjoyed it—he enjoyed every moment with her—but he could only ignore time’s dark specter for so long.

It reared its ugly head in the form of a bottle under the sink. When Loki had first found it, he had only been confused, but when he presented it to Madelyn, she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“It’s hair dye,” she finally admitted. “I’ve been using it for a few years now.”

Loki didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? Your hair color hasn’t changed.”

Her laugh was soft and tinged with sadness. “I went gray a while ago, sweetheart. I’ve been dying it my natural color.”

It was as if someone had ripped the air from his lungs. “Wh—” A few years? He gulped. “Why would you do that?”

“I—” Madelyn seemed ashamed. “I was afraid it would upset you. You’ve always been so worried about me, you know—” she inhaled sharply. “I was afraid you’d leave again.”

The heartbreak in her voice was killing him.

“I’m not going anywhere, darling,” he assured her, reaching out to pull her closer. “I promised, remember?”

She nodded, resting her cheek against his chest. “I do remember that, at least.” Loki laughed as he held her close, but inwardly his mind was racing.

He was running out of time.

This time, when he returned to his research, he did so in secret. Madelyn was suffering enough—he didn’t want to contribute to her pain. At one point, keeping her in the dark about his activities would have been difficult, back when she caught every little shift in his personality, but these days she didn’t seem to notice as much. Still, Loki couldn’t spend whole nights at his work the way he used to. Madelyn slept lightly, often waking up in the darkness to a fit of hacking and gasping for air. He’d be at her side in a second, glass of water in hand and notes abandoned.

“Sorry … for waking you up,” she’d wheeze. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” he’d choke.

But one night, she caught him. It was chillier than usual, and he had moved from his desk to the living room and the fireplace. The crackling of the flames masked the padding of her feet down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped. Madelyn was standing in the hallway, wrapped in a blanket and leaning against the doorframe for support. Her eyes seemed to glow in the light of the fire.

“I—” He didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps that was enough of a response. She sighed, hobbling forward on unsteady legs. Loki rushed forward to support her. “Darling, you shouldn’t be up.”

“No.” She gripped his wrist, nodding towards the couch. “Sit with me. Hold me.” Her expression left no room for argument. He wasn’t certain he wanted to argue with her anyway. Loki scooped her up into his arms and carried her across the room, surprised by how little effort it took him. Madelyn had always been light, but it seemed she had become even more so since he had last picked her up. He found himself thinking about the first time he had carried her, when she twisted her ankle on the steps of her apartment. It felt like just yesterday that he had held her in his arms as he teased her for her mortal fragility. For Madelyn, he realized with a start, it had been a lifetime ago.

He sat on the couch before the fire, still holding her in his lap. She fixed him with a stern glare.

“You said you were done with this.”

As words failed him, Loki let out a pained breath. “It’s you,” he whispered finally. “I can’t—I can’t just give up on you.”

“It’s not giving up.” She reached out to stroke his cheek with wrinkled fingers. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Loki, I’m old. I’m going to die, soon rather than later. That’s not something anybody can change. Not even you.”

He wished he could accuse her of lying, that he could stand up and prove how she was wrong, how he could stop time’s work. Instead, tears blurred his vision when he opened his eyes. “I can’t lose you.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re not losing me! I’m right here. With you. Now, forever, and always.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaning her head against his. “I love you, Loki.”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you too. So much.”

The fire had gone out when he awoke in the morning. She was still in his lap, at rest and peaceful.

“Madelyn?”

She didn’t move.

Loki brushed his fingers across her cheek. Her skin was cold.

His voice broke. “Madelyn.”

But Madelyn only lay against him, still and silent and perfect as could be.

#loki x ofc #loki marvel #loki fanfic #now forever and always

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