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chipper-smol · 3 years ago

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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keingleichgewicht · 3 years ago

Note

WERE YOU KIDDING ABOUT THE ASK GAME if not i dont have any specific lyrics in mind but i always thought the lyrics to the mill were so cool and maybe you could get some thoughts out of them? :0

YEAH GOD OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT THE MILL. LET’S TALK ABOUT UHHHHHHHHH [THROWS DARTBOARD]

this line. this MIGHT go on for a while so i will............ readmore

so the mill feels kind of notably different to the rest of the pafl songs, which tend to be unusually literal for lyric, either straightforward retellings of events (punch it, punk!) or character piece monologues set to plot visuals (strike 3) or both (all of them, but for instance particularly comfort zone, which is just dmitry’s horrible manifesto until it gets hijacked by a death sentence in the second verse.) the mill is a lot more like what we expect from poetry these days, which is to say it’s heavy on imagery, low on clarity, and fucking confusing!

I’ll draw a circle in the sand, drive myself around the bend in a desperate attempt to hold on to your battered hand Rocked to sleep beneath the snow, she is bathed in youthful glow ‘Strong enough to let it go,’ he says, but darling, I don’t know

a lot of the mill is about circles. this is in the name: a mill is something which turns. a waterwheel is a circle, a grindstone is a circle. it’s even in the melody: the chorus is a cyclic, pentatonic four-note riff that keeps going up and down and up its own ladder, chasing its own tail, not really reaching resolution. and then it’s also in, you know, the story:

the meat grinder!!!! everyone’s favorite fucking hellhole!!!! it is only semi-explicitly identified in the song but that’s because it’s a concept from the source material - both tarkovsky’s stalker and roadside picnic feature the meat-grinder, as a location nicknamed thus by stalkers because it is even more fucking deadly than the rest of the zone, all of which is already ridiculously fucking deadly, and if you’ve seen the movie:

it is more or less instantly recognizable in the mill as well. so here we have a circle! here we have a mill (the title has about seventy double meanings but this is certainly one of them,) and as it turns out, this mill at least will absolutely kill you. and horribly too. interestingly though, in roadside picnic (the book) the meat-grinder is not a tunnel, and it’s not round - it’s just a nondescript patch of ground which will wring you out like a dishcloth and kill you extremely dead if you walk into it. on the other hand what we have in the book in terms of circles is the golden ball, which is the equivalent of the movie’s the room, which is, well,

in short both stories ultimately hinge upon the idea that there is a something in the zone which can give you your heart’s desire. anything you want. everything you want. whatever you want. it is infinitely powerful; it is infinitely capable. the catch is that it will only give you what you want. the catch is that giving you what you want is not the same as giving you what you are asking for. the other catch is that in both cases you have to get through the meat-grinder first.

(so, by the way, what the fuck, right? does pafl’s zone have a wish-granting factory? is it also behind the grinder? where were the original trio going when they got themselves fucked up? and did they get there?)

but the point is: the golden ball, the wish-granting factory, is also a circle. it’s just sort of a sphere. it’s a big round fuckin yellow thing. you know, sorta like:

which is THE ONLY TIME yellow is used in occam’s razor not counting the full-colour shots, and it drives me CRAZY, but it is also me going full conspiracy board so let’s not even worry about it. THE POINT IS.

the circle is the death-machine and the wish-machine. neither of these things are really.... very good. the circle, or at least the arc, is also very closely associated with death:

(розовая дуга предрассветного, ‘rose arc of pre-dawn’. if i’ve fucked up that nominative please feel free to stone me to death!)

in the gdoc notes to message lost ferry briefly refers to the dawn as if it were a good thing, the dawn of hope, which is a usage that sort of agrees with the desolate and deathless hope of strike 3′s ‘everything will pass / a day will come,’ but on the other hand it really is very closely associated with dying. nikolai bites it; nikita bites it; sergei and olga left significant chunks of themselves behind. and the thing about ‘this too shall pass’ is that it’s always true, as is ‘everything ends’, but of course that’s ‘cause the thing that ends might be you. and as we know

dawn is an ending. so that seems concerning!

i think the circle, the arc, the bolt falling back to the ground, is not a good thing. i am getting a little conspiracy board here in general but forgive me, i cannot make you a wholesome answer, my wit’s diseased. i think the circle is an enclosed space. it’s an unbroken cycle. it’s the grindstone. it’s the mill. it’s about what pafl’s always been about: about being trapped, about having no chances, about being bordered upon. the circle’s the geometric figure of equidistance from a given point, and you can walk on it forever, and nothing will ever change; you will never get closer, you will never get further away, you will never get out! the sun rises, the sun sets, and you are no closer to anything you wanted. it’s worth noting that anya’s borderline city, the zone-edge port town she complains is trying to crush all her dreams, her mill

is a circle. (a cog in a machine! a grind-wheel! a cage!)

and yura, whose dreams have already been burned out of him, who starts the series already resigned to never getting out of here, calls it ‘this dire deja-vu’, i am specifically resisting putting the accent marks back onto that, which is to say, it’s a repetition that haunts him. it’s going round and round and getting nowhere.

so if we bring it back around: drawing a line in the sand, as the phrase is generally used, means setting a border, means saying this far and no further. often it’s yourself you’re setting the border for. you hit some divide you can’t abide crossing so you say this stops here, it may be too early or too late, but i say it stops here. so logically: drawing a circle in the sand means you’ve locked yourself in completely.

I’ll draw a circle in the sand, drive myself around the bend in a desperate attempt to hold your battered hand

the whole first half of this song, i think, is olga promising to grind herself down in a hundred ways if it means she won’t be left alone. how hard can it be to never let it overflow? she may feel lower than the low, she may wish she could just disappear out here, into the postindustrial rust, but though it gets harder all the time she will keep pretending. she isn’t going to burden sergei, or indeed anyone, with her problems, her fears, her scars. she is hurt, but she’s used to it, she’s gotten used to being haunted long ago. she keeps her bad eye covered. she stays within her circle she has drawn. she keeps going round and round. she will take the smallest sliver of human connection and be happy, she promises she will be happy, she promises she won’t ask for more, she will take just the ‘hello.’

but you knooooow it’s not true. you know it’s grinding her down, that she’ll be milled to nothing pretty soon, and really she knows it too.

i am perhaps seventy percent sure that this line is a reference to the windmills of your mind by michel legrande, which features such lines as

Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind

which on one hand seems sort of obscure to be a purposeful reference but on the other hand would be a hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t, wouldn’t it. either way it characterizes circles ambiguously, but definitely unsettlingly. going around in circles is chasing infinity, but what in god’s name would you do with it if you caught it? what are you even hoping to accomplish? and:

the second half of this song is bitterer, sharper - staring down the mouth of the meat-grinder she’s a little more willing to admit to herself that this is going nowhere. she is running out of cages to keep herself in. she is very tired. it’s easy to say why don’t you leave it all behind, it’s easy to say, she’s strong enough to let it go, it’s easy to say, too strong to die. it is a lot harder to actually live.

this is also where the flashbacks admit to us how badly hurt they really were - sergei with his whole side in shreds, she still hides her eye but at least we get to see it’s bleeding. this moral compass is forever misaligned, she says, so there is damage, and it is lasting. and she can’t settle for hello, she can’t live like this, she needs someone by her side. the trouble is whether she can believe she has any hope of getting that

as for who ‘her’ is, or the ‘she’ of ‘she is bathed in youthful glow’, i figure there’s two possibilities: either it’s nadya, who haunts olga too, because nikita’s abandonment of nadya represents exactly what she most fears for herself, or it’s olga’s younger, unbroken, binocular self - both of whom were so young, and so easily hurt, and are now unfindable.

and then there’s this conclusion: ‘the sun will rise, until then / i’ll be waiting for you on the other side.’ which maybe is a sort of hope after all? she’s reached no real conclusions in the zone - she knows there must be hope but she can only barely believe in it - she thinks she is destined to self-destruct. but on the other hand she still has that, a version of sergei’s own ‘a day will come’

you may be hurt, but if you can hold yourself together, you can hope for a dawn someday. an ending. a change. but the trouble’s that there’s more than one kind of ending. and there’s more than one meaning for other side. there are cages, and then there are cages. and you know what else looks like a tunnel, a circle?

staring down the barrel of the gun.

#pafl #parties are for losers #it speaks #ask #in all fairness and in my defence when i made the joke i said i would write not less than one thousand words and by fuck #this has not been less than one thousand words!#jorgyjuice #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ALSO THIS WAS REALLY FUN #and thank you VERY dearly to anyone who takes the time to read all this; you own my soul now; feel free to collect at any time #metatext

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 4: The Bounty ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2400>

Warnings: allusions to male masturbation, protector!Din comes with his own warning.

Series Masterlist

Maker, you were beautiful.

The way you slept was so peaceful, basking in the moonlight. Din was surprised you could even sleep that well on top of the rock hard slap he called a bed. He thought the child was cute when he slept, but as Din watched you, revelling in the way your chest rose and fell with every breath, he swore he had never seen such heavenliness in his life.

He’d gotten lucky, he had to admit that. You were the Manda’lor, and you could’ve been a Gungan or a Rodian or who knows what… but you weren’t. You were a human who looked distinctly similar to the illustrations of angels in the fairytale books Din grew up reading. You were brave and fierce, but you were still the same girl who burst into tears only minutes after meeting Din. You were special, different. And Din had never let himself feel this way about anyone before. Truthfully, it scared him.

And Din didn’t get scared either. He was a scarred, battle hardened Mandalorian warrior. Very little affected him... but already, his heart ached for you. He was yearning. He saw the way you were with the child, and the love you had in your heart. He was a fighter, and the way the creed had brought him up, he’d never known any different, but you were a princess. You showed him that you didn’t need to win your battles through violence, but you could do it through peace and love. Just like your mother; duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.

Din sighed, and raised his hands to remove his helmet. You were asleep, so it was okay. Just for once he wanted to look at you with his own eyes. And somehow, it was even better. Din discarded his gloves and quietly took off his beskar armour and boots, preparing to settle himself down for bed, but as he undressed, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. So so beautiful.

Maybe you and Din were more similar than you first realised, because Din was throbbing by the time he went to the refresher. He leaned against the cool wall and closed his eyes, palming at his erection through his pants. He felt so confined and he was desperate for some kind of relief. But when he closed his eyes, he wasn’t seeing the usual darkness. All he could see was you.

-----

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep for. But it was the distinct smell of bone broth that woke you up. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and it took you a few moments to focus your vision, getting used to what was about to be your temporary (yet still new) home. You stretched your body and yawned, bringing your fists to your face to rub your eyes.

“You're up,” Din commented, his modulated voice stating the obvious. You jumped when you saw the beskar clad figure standing at the edge of the bed—just watching you. How long had he been watching you? “There's a bowl of bone broth waiting for you.” he informed you and you scrunched up your nose at the unpleasant smell. “What? You don't like it?”

No. Was there anyone in the galaxy who actually liked bone broth? You assumed it was just something the settlers on Sorgan ate because they had no other choice, and it was cheap. Did the Mandalorian really drink bone broth? He’d already sounded irked and you had just woken up.

“Uhm…” your voice trailed off, your gaze flicking between the bowl of soup and the Mandalorian. "Do you have any fruit? Sourberries, maybe?" You tried your best to dodge his question and sound polite, but judging from Din’s reaction, you mustn’t have done a good job.

Din scoffed, before taking his rifle out of the armoury and attaching it to the holster on his back. What did he need a rifle for? "No. You think I have the credits for that? Sorry princess." He grumbled. And with that, he disappeared into the shadows of the ship.

You felt bad. You didn't mean to offend him, although you could completely understand how your comment came across. Ungrateful. You weren't ungrateful, it was just… bone broth was what you fed to the palace bluurgs. It wasn't something you ever voluntarily chose to consume. You looked back over at the steaming bowl of soup and sighed. Why did you even feel bad? You barely knew him. You were the literal princess of Mandalore and - no, you wouldn’t feel bad for a child of the watch. If anything he should feel bad for the actions of his people and what they had done to yours. What they had done to you. You slipped out of Din’s bed and picked up your bowl of broth before heading down the hull of the ship, wanting to find him and apologise. He’d given up his bed for you, he was making sure you were well fed, the least you could do was say sorry.

But he was nowhere in sight. You’d noticed the ramp of the ship had been lowered, and a stream of natural sunlight was blazing into the ship. You had landed. Were you on Nevarro? Had he… had he left you without saying anything? Surely not. You padded into the cockpit only to find Grogu sitting in the pilot seat, playing with a small steel ball. He threw it between his three clawed hands and giggled every time he caught it.

“Hey kid,” you sighed, slipping into the co-pilot seat. “Where did your dad go?”

Grogu garbled a long winded response and you listened closely. No way. He was a bounty hunter? Kriff… you’d somehow managed to tie yourself into a bounty hunter’s affairs. You cursed yourself but continued to listen to the child’s explanation. Din had gone out to earn some quick credits, goodness knows what for. And he’d left Grogu on the ship with strict instruction to watch over you. You couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. He’d asked his child to make sure you wouldn’t get into trouble.

“He can’t just leave me on the ship and not say anything,” you laughed to yourself in disbelief, letting your head fall in your hands. The birds outside the ship tweeted and for Din to have left the ramp open, you knew that Nevarro must have been a safe planet. At least for the most part. “Do you come here much?” You asked Grogu, who nodded his head in affirmation, You hummed, picking up the child and nursing him on your lap. “Does your father always expect people to follow his rules?” you asked slyly, and even Grogu giggled. “Come on. Take me around Nevarro little one. I wish to explore.”

It wasn’t like you gave Grogu a choice, but you learned that he was practically just as mischievous as you were, and Din was wrong to leave a child in command of you. He was wrong to leave anyone in command of you. You’d lived on Mandalore your whole life, not once ever leaving the planet. Now you were finally further into the outer-rim than ever before and Din just expected you to stay on the ship? Not a chance. You picked up the child and carried him outside and oh stars - it was beautiful. The golden sunlight radiated warmth and you overheard the happy sound of children excitedly chirping away. Din had parked the Crest dead centre in the middle of town, it seemed, with stalls and vendors on every corner, peppering the streets. You hummed in contentment, and sat down on the edge of the ramp with your bowl of broth and Grogu.

“Do you like this?” you asked, mixing the broth with the spoon Din had provided you. Grogu nodded his head happily and you laughed. “Does Din eat it?” Grogu nodded his head even more and his lips curled into a smile when he realised you were about to try the soup. If both Din and the child ate bone broth regularly, then it couldn’t be that bad…

And it wasn’t, not really. You could get used to the taste. The odorous smell was more off putting than anything else. So, without fuss, you ate the bubbling brown substance and discarded the finished bowl back inside the ship. You weren’t going to be gone too long, just long enough to meet the townsfolk and get a feeling off the planet. You hadn’t been this excited about anything in a long time.

-----

This was never part of the plan, but in the 24 hours of knowing Din Djarin, you had softened him considerably; more so than what the Mandalorian would like to admit. He didn’t plan on being gone long. But he still wanted, no, he needed, to get on your good side if he planned on asking you to marry him. The thought of winning you over through a façade of lies didn’t sit right with him. He never had a strong moral compass but he believed that you should at least marry for love. But then again, love was a foreign concept to him. He’d seen it before, in his parents, but that was just a distant memory. It felt like a lifetime ago, and if the Armorer told him to marry you, he had to do it.

It wasn’t a choice. It was his duty as a Mandalorian.

“I need a quick job.” Din announced, sliding into the booth opposite Karga.

“Mando! Good to see you. Kid not with you today?” Greef Karga, esteemed magistrate of Nevarro asked.

“He’s on the ship,” Din shrugged casually, knowing that the child’s safety - and yours - would be guaranteed as long as you just stayed put. “I need a quick job. Something simple and on Nevarro.”

Karga scrunched up his eyebrows in bewilderment. “Coming from the hunter who normally takes four pucks at a time, this is new,” he chuckled. “But I don’t have anything of the sort. What’s it for?”

Din hesitated, having no reason to be dishonest but yet not wanting to explain more than necessary. “Sourberries.”

This was a foolish plan, but if you wanted sourberries then Din would get you sourberries. He had this primal urge in him to appease you. To win you over.

Karga blinked before erupting into a fit of belly laughter. Din shuffled around in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

“Sourberries? Let me guess, is that code for something? I get it Mando. Us men have needs!” Karga laughed. “I do have one puck on Nevarro. Brand new. High paid. Imperial bounty," Karga hissed once his laughter settled down, but a smirk still played upon his lips. "You could buy a whole sourberry forest with the credits from this bounty.”

“You’re doing Imperial work, after everything we’ve been through?” Din frowned, shaking his head in disappointment. “Does Cara know?”

“It doesn’t matter. The Imps are the only ones who will pay Guild rates. Besides… I really didn’t have a choice. The guy who came to see me was an ex-ISB officer. Said he’s looking for a runaway princess. Figured the guy she ran away with is a settler on Nevarro. Told me he has a very distinct look but didn’t provide much more information.”

Din swallowed, his heart sinking in his chest. It couldn’t be, could it?

“What other information do you have?” Din countered. He had to know. He had to know so he could return back to the Crest and warn you. Maybe Nevarro wasn’t as safe as he’d predicted after all.

“Will you accept the bounty?” Karga asked. “Otherwise I can’t-”

“Listen, I need to know all that you know.” Din said sternly.

“Unless you’re willing to accept the puck, I can’t give you that information.”

Dank farrik. He couldn’t accept a bounty on you… he was your protector. What would he even tell you?

Once upon a time, he would’ve felt comfortable enough to explain his situation to Greef but if he was working with the Imperials again… maybe he wasn’t as trustworthy as Din once believed. He understood where Greef was coming from, to a degree. You were living during difficult times, but if he learned that you were the bounty and you were literally just a mile away, waiting on his ship, he’d have no choice but to notify this ex-ISB officer. If it meant Greef would earn his coin, Din wouldn’t put betrayal past him.

He needed the puck. He needed the puck because if he didn’t take it, another bounty hunter would. Of course Din wouldn’t let anyone even get near you, but if it was an Imperial bounty, he knew they’d just keep coming and coming. The Imperials didn’t give up easily. They didn’t give up with the child and they wouldn’t give up on you.

“I’ll take it.” Din announced after a moment of contemplation.

“Excellent!” Karga grinned, fishing out for the puck. “What I can tell you is this. She’s the princess of once of the very few Empire ruled planets. Could be Lothal, Naboo, Dathomir, maybe even Mandalore…” and then Karga began to describe your appearance. Everything from your eye colour, hair colour, skin tone… he had you to a T. This was not good.

“Do you know why she ran away?” Din asked, trying to swallow away any fear for your safety.

“I don’t ask questions like that,” Greef responded, shooting the Mandalorian a strange look. Din should have known better. “But they’re almost certain she’s on Nevarro so hopefully you won’t have to look far. I have no doubt a man of your talents will be able to bring her back to the Guild before nightfall, right?”

“Right…” Din replied, a little too quietly. “Dead or alive?”

“Alive only. No reward for a cold body,” Greef said strictly. “Good luck Mando,” Din was going to need more than just luck. He took the puck and stood up, Greef following from behind. “Hey, for your journey,” He smiled, handing the Mandalorian a bag of sourberries. “No charge. I’ve just… missed you.”

Din made a small noise of gratitude although it wasn’t received through the modulator, before taking the berries from his friend and leaving the cantina. It really was warm outside, so much so, wearing the beskar was even more uncomfortable than usual. He had to go see Cara, but suddenly, it was very unsafe for you to be on the ship if Imps were roaming the town looking for you. Thankfully, Nevarro had the perfect hiding spot for you; the covert. Only Din didn’t know how much the other children of the watch would take a liking to you… or you them. But neither of you had any other choice.

So when Din returned to the Crest, with sourberries and one hand and your bounty puck in another, he was mortified to see that neither you nor the child were there. His heart sank into his chest and his movements became erratic as he called your name and searched every crevice. Had they found you already? Had they taken the child? Oh no no no -

On impulse, Din fished into his armoury and grabbed more weapons, including explosives and detonators. He didn’t want this to get messy, but if the Imperials had taken both you and Grogu, there wasn’t a chance he’d go down without a fight. He’d have them begging for mercy. No one gets on the wrong side of Din Djarin.

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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years ago

Note

How would Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Diavolo react to a male MC who wears skirts (because *chants* men in skirts, it’s masculine af) on the daily? bonus if the MC wears black nail polish!

REACTING TO MC THAT WEARS SKIRTS

LOVE THIS PROMPT 🙏

During this I imagined 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻TANGO DANCER SOLOMON and thats going into my art idea list

masterlist

✖️MALE MC✖️

Not unlike all the other boys, Lucifer is willing to risk it all as soon as he sees it.

His favorite cut of skirt is the classic a-line ones, both modest and not.

A CLOSE second goes to wrap skirts.

This is a SFW blog so I will not be going into any detail at this time ✨

Literally loses his breath everytime he sees MC, and it surprises him.

If MC isn’t already wearing the RAD skirt, he’s already offering to get him a set. Almost too eagerly?

When MC decides to not wear a skirt one day, he tries not to make it too obvious, but he’s simply curious as to why is all. Maybe a tad bit let down.

MC insisted one time that Lucifer painted his nails for him, and...

“Well, normally Asmo is the one doing that for all of us...”

“But Lucifer 🥺”

“Alright... Fine. But I’ll have to continue my paperwork in between each layer.

It’s just kinda cute to think that he would spend an incredibly unnecessary amount of time on each nail, trying to perfectly lay down the polish. Occasionally, his tongue will poke out because of his concentration.

There’s some slip ups here and there, but mentioning them will only get him flustered.

I don’t use this word lightlySIMP SIMP SIMP

He thinks he loves MC in every skirt imaginable just as equally as the last (which, he actually might) but deep down he can’t deny that a mini skirt just hits different.

The first time he saw MC wearing a mini skirt, mammon’s initial reaction was to cover him up before anyone could see him.

However, he failed to realize that he was actually the last of the brothers to see him, since he woke up late.

But that’s just what being the avatar of greed does to you. You just want to keep what’s yours, no matter what.

But considering his jacket isn’t as big as Lucifer’s or Solomon’s, he ended up just holding it up against MC’s lower half and stood in front of him.

It took the coaxing of MC and the snark comments of his siblings to make Mammon finally allow MC to walk around freely.

Looking back on it, Mammon most certainly understands why even Asmo had called him clingy.

But even now, he can’t help but hold MC a little bit closer in public when so many demons are staring at him! It just feels wrong to allow them to do that.

Cut him some slack, he thinks MC looks amazing, and he trusts him, but they’re literally in hell surrounded by demons. He just wants to keep his boy safe <33

Levi doesn’t even realize what MC’s wearing at first.

In fact, he doesn’t realize even after their first FEW encounters.

He only notices because while Mammon was ranting to him and Satan about money, he brings up MC and his “stupid and cute but also dumb skirts”

Levi is baffled that he’s the only one that hasn’t noticed it. So, the next time he walks by MC’s room, he contemplates stopping by to talk. Right... Socialize. That.

While Levi is stuck in his thoughts, MC opens the door, presumably ready to go out to a party with Mammon and Asmo.

*fish man short circuits*

MC looks...! S-so cute....!

- thinks the third born otaku.

Because I’m big on fashion, I can kind of picture an exact skirt I feel would apply to him. Let your mind run free but I imagine a semi-sheer maxi skirt with water-like embellishments uwu

But don’t get me wrong, Levi literally loves seeing MC in skirts so anything will get him like 😳 yall know how he is

Actually starts to get more interested in feminine fashion because of MC. And one day, he purchases a long black skirt from Akuzon.

He saw a popular cosplayer wearing one, and so he makes that his excuse.

No one even realizes the change except for Asmo, who gushes over the new look, even if it barely changed. MC also notices, but only compliments him/brings it up when they’re alone so Levi doesn’t overheat.

I was this close to typing “Satan is a man of beauty and FASHION” can you believe that

OKAY ENOUGH SATAN SLANDER

Satan... He can recognize when someone else looks ridiculous.

But he knows for a FACT. That MC very likely pulls off a skirt better than anyone he’s seen before.

Call him biased, but he sincerely loves it on MC specifically.

He likes the puffier skirts because they’re ADORBS, but for a more casual look, there’s this one asymmetrical skirt in particular that makes MC look so handsome to him.

He has no idea why men don’t wear skirts more often! Surely MC isn’t the only one that can do it!

Oh. Right. Gender norms 😪🤚🏼

Satan feels his anger crawl up his skin when he watches MC get ridiculed. And just for something he simply enjoys wearing! The nerve of demons.

He advances to “de-escalate” the situation in the most “avatar of wrath” way possible, but when he sees MC’s slumped shoulders walking away from him, he feels more inclined to follow and comfort him.

Satan gives an icy glare to the irrelevant demons, taking note of their faces, and goes after MC.

He doesn’t immediately bring up the situation, instead opting to go out on a spontaneous date to a nice café or a shopping district. Anything to distract from the situation subtly.

If his plan works out, splendid. Anything to make light of situation without even addressing it for even a day is good.

If the shopping and food doesn’t quite bring MC’s smile to his eyes, Satan will just have to be forward with his feelings for once.

“MC. I’m not entirely sure how I can get it through to you, but you shouldn’t be worrying about what some moronic, low-level demons think of you or your clothes. Much less what they say. Just be you, and make them suffer ten times worse.”

MC relishes in his words, even if the last bit sounded more like a threat than anything.

The last thing Satan would ever do is let MC even hesitate wearing an outfit that he would have had no trouble throwing on any other day because of someone else.

Asmo screams (in a happy way)

“No, Mammon! You’re wrong. MC is NOT my personal dress-up doll! He’s my model.”

Trying to break the stigma around Asmo’s “shallow” personality, let’s get the obvious things out of the way.

He and MC shop together pretty much every other day. It’s almost concerning. And nail appointments are, of course, regular.

NOW THAT THAT’S OVER,

Yes yes, Asmo loves the skirts and wonderfully glossy black nails, but there’s still such a massive divide between him and MC. Not physically, or even relationship-wise.

He’s never met someone like MC, who is so fashion-heavy and just the right amount of self-centered.

He thinks its the fact that they’re a human and demon. But he’s seen firsthand that the line between what makes a demon so different from a human is very thin. Solomon is an example of that.

But he realizes it’s just MC. He’s simply dressing for himself and himself only.

Asmo loves himself, there’s no doubt. And it’s nice to go out and dress fancy for others. He couldn’t dream of another lifestyle.

But he has to admit that what MC is doing is working for him. He comes off as a charming sort of man when he ignores the negative comments made about his clothes.

He knows that people in both Devildom and the human realm are a little sensitive when it comes to men in skirts. And the fact that MC continues to wear them is beautiful in and of itself.

This got kind of deep out of nowhere and i apologize but Asmo deserves to be seen for more than he’s constantly portrayed as 😞

Diavolo isn’t really thrown off that much by it at first, but as time passes, he starts to understand the appeal of skirt-wearing MC.

PENCIL SKIRT LOVER 🚨🔊PENCIL SKIRT LOVER🚨🚨🚨🔊🔊🔔🗯

Barbatos has to remind him that it’s rude to stare, but he finds it almost entertaining how whipped they BOTH are for MC.

Like Asmo, he actually loves bringing him out to shop!

The only difference between the two experiences is that Diavolo has no fucking idea what he’s doing when he picks out clothes for him.

Which leads to some pretty funny/terrible clothing combinations.

No, Diavolo, MC will not be wearing a flannel top with a camouflage hi-low skirt. Put those plaid socks away.

He’s confused and even a little sad when MC continues to turn down his ideas, but he figures that he should turn this into a learning opportunity.

So he lets MC grab whatever he wants, and patiently waits for him to finish up in the fitting rooms.

The store clerk is shitting her pants at the sight of the literal future ruler of Devildom hyping MC up with the energy of a puppy retriever.

Barbatos does an amazing job pretending like this doesn’t affect him.

He’s a classy man, he just internally loses it when he sees MC in any fancy skirt, really. From silky gold ruffles to a victorian-esc vibe, he’s obsessed.

So when Diavolo makes arrangements for an event/ball, Barbatos makes sure to, at the very least, offer to help MC get ready at the castle. He may not be the most fashion-centric but being able to spend time with MC in an extravagant get up is enough to make a demon butler interested.

Most of the time he’s disappointed because in between the seven brothers, he’d be lucky to be able to see MC at all because of how jealous they can all get.

I can imagine that even Diavolo doesn’t get to hear what Barbatos has to say about MC and his ability to make him weak at the knees.

But all it takes is Diavolo prompting, “MC’s outfit tonight... It was a sight for sore eyes, correct?”

Then, Barbatos lets a compliment or two slip out.

I can also imagine MC wearing a slightly short snd flowy skirt, and some rather disgusting demons waiting for it to get picked up by the wind, only for Barbatos to already be there, discreetly holding the fabric down and shooting them an intensely calm smile

Barbatos will always be one step ahead of creeps.

👀..

sneaky boy is sneaky.. especially with the constant glances he gives MC.

Solomon’s favorite type of skirt to see on MC is DEFINITELY pleated. No other option.

Unlike Lucifer, if MC isn’t wearing a skirt, he makes it clear that he wishes he would’ve.

It’s in a playful manner, though! Don’t worry.

“No skirt today? Bummer. That’s fine though, I can’t expect myself to feel attracted any less.”

I imagine MC wearing a flowy skirt to some sort of event at the demon lord’s castle, and he uses his magic to make it temporarily sparkle or shine.

This mf flashy and wants EVERYONE to know that MC is dancing with HIM and no one else.

But if you ask him about it, what? What’re you talking about? Lights?? Emitting from your skirt??? While we were dancing ?¿ Crazy talk. I would never do such a thing.,.

As childish as it is, he loves to see the way it flows when MC twirls or turns.

Not in a weird way, either. It’s just beautiful to him.

So, not to be cheesy (which he WITHOUT A DOUBT is.) but he’ll occasionally just spin MC by his hand throughout the day, then catch/dip him by the waist.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me asmo #male mc #male reader

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onecanonlife · 3 years ago

Text

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 3,960)

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

Part Ten: Wilbur II

Wilbur wakes the morning of the election as President of L’Manberg, and he ends the evening of the election as President of L’Manberg, voted back into office by due democratic process.

There are things in between, of course. He reads out the results for all the SMP members to hear, as well as for those who have been following the event from different servers. He makes a speech, promises protection and safety for his citizens, promises renewed growth and prosperity and above all else, freedom from tyranny. He makes a good case for it all, he’s fairly sure, though he forgets the words that he speaks as soon as he leaves his podium.

There’s a bit of a celebration, after. Impromptu, unplanned, but those are the best kind. They all pitch in, scrounge up food and drink and games to play for when they get a bit tipsy, and it’s good.

He smiles through it.

He smiles when Tubbo claps him on the back, hooting and hollering. He smiles when Niki runs up to him and throws her arms around him in an embrace, even though she was running against him. He smiles when Eret sidles up to him, murmuring congratulations and briefly pressing his hand. He even smiles when a few citizens of the Greater SMP come to join in, Sapnap and Punz and Ponk and Karl. He smiles and smiles and smiles, and why shouldn’t he smile?

This is what he wanted. To know that his people continue to have faith in him, that they still believe him best for the job. To hold on to power, but to do it the right way. To be given full permission to assure the safety and freedom of those he loves, and the land that he has made.

The smile only slips twice.

Once: meeting Fundy’s eyes across the way. Fundy breaks his gaze just as quickly, glancing to the side, and he doesn’t come to speak with him. He’s not sure what to do about that. He’s not so blind as to not notice the tension that’s sprung into place between them lately, though he still can’t ascertain its origin. And it’s only gotten worse now, of course—but what did Fundy expect, that he would just let him commit voter fraud? He’s disappointed in his actions, and he can’t disguise that. Shouldn’t have to disguise that, because Fundy ought to know that wasn’t the right thing to do. But that means that his son steers clear of him. And he’ll admit that it hurts. Both for that, and for the fact that Fundy would do such a thing in the first place.

So the smile slips, when no one is looking.

But that is once, and twice comes now: Tommy bounding up to him, grin bright and wild, eyes shining with a light that he hasn’t seen there in—too long. Far, far too long. That light has been present all day, ever since he stepped up to the podium and announced the results, and Tommy let out a whoop and a holler and pumped his fist into the air like he was trying to punch the daylight from the sky, and it was so very Tommy that in that moment, he could feel nothing but relief. In general, Tommy’s seemed very relaxed. Celebratory, jubilant. As he should be.

And now, here he is, beaming, staring him in the face, gripping his arms. Eyes shining.

“How we feeling, big man?” he asks, loud and carefree, and it’s obvious from the way that he asks that he expects a certain kind of answer. Wilbur is more than happy to give it to him. He reaches out to ruffle his hair, and Tommy ducks away, but even that scowl doesn’t last for long.

“I’m on top of the world,” he says, and feels his own smile widen. For the first time in a while, he can look at Tommy and not feel pressing worry, not feel a tightness in his chest and a certainty in his bones that something is very, very wrong, that something has happened, and that in some way, he has failed. “We fucking did it, man.”

“We sure fucking did!” Tommy crows. “You and me, best fucking—best fucking day ever. We’re gonna make sure that L’Manberg’s the best country in the literal history of everything. And you’ll be the best president.”

“Of course I will,” he says. “That’s why they’ve elected me.”

Tommy nods sagely. Still grinning. Still bright-eyed. “It’s all going to be alright,” he says, voice lowering just a little. He sounds so very sincere. “Everything’s actually gonna be alright. You’re gonna do so great. You’re gonna do great, right?”

Of course he will. He will not settle for anything less. This duty has been entrusted to him once again, and he will not let his city fail, nor his people fall. He is the one they look to. He built this nation, and he must protect it. He will be great. He has more than just his own hopes riding on his back, and anything less than greatness is unacceptable, both for his own sake and for that of everyone else, for his own legacy and for the seeds planted in the present.

“We’re gonna do great,” he says. “You and I, and all of us.”

“Hell yeah,” Tommy says, and glances around him, at the celebration, still under full swing. Quackity has somehow obtained a stripper pole, and both Karl and Sapnap are looking on in great interest as he displays his talents in that area. Wilbur finds himself watching for a moment too long before tearing his gaze away. But Tommy doesn’t pay mind to any of that—which is good, because he is a child, a little baby man, and maybe he should go over to Quackity and talk about him toning it down, actually, while the minors are here—and instead brings his focus back around to him again.

“They all love you man, y’know?” Tommy says, voice going softer still. He finds his own expression gentling to match.

“They love this,” he agrees. “They love L’Manberg.”

“Because what’s not to love?” Tommy says, nodding in satisfaction. “Really, though, man. You’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna do great. No reason to worry about anything, y’know?”

“Okay, that’s a little concerning, coming from you,” he says. “Are there any shenanigans I should know about?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tommy says, swatting at his arm. “I’m gonna go find where Tubbo got off to. But just, have a good night, yeah, Wil? You’ve really earned it. Future’s looking up.”

“I will,” he says. “And you too, Tommy, you’ve earned this just as much as I have. Maybe even more. Go have fun.” He pauses. “And if there do happen to be any shenanigans, let me know, would you? It’s been a while since I took part in any good old-fashioned shenanigans.”

Tommy casts him one last grin, brilliant as any sunrise he’s seen. And then, he’s off, weaving through everyone else. It’s good, that he’s happy. It’s been so long since he’s seemed truly happy. It gives Wilbur hope. Whatever damage was done to him that night, when he chose to give up his discs, maybe he really will bounce back. And he’s noticed that he and Tubbo have been closer again, so maybe that will help, too. Tommy will be okay.

Then, a wave of exhaustion hits him, apparently out of nowhere, and his smile slips.

He brings it up again in the next moment. But the fatigue remains—and he supposes it makes sense. It’s been a long, rather stressful day. Perhaps it’s time he turned it in.

Niki’s the first one he finds, and she smiles at his approach. There is still an air of tension about her—lingering frustration, he imagines, at the stunt Fundy tried to pull. He believes her when she says she was unaware. But she doesn’t seem to have any qualms about him, thank goodness, because he bears her no ill will for the incident. Or even Fundy—he is disappointed to be sure, but he doesn’t love his son any less. Nothing at all could make that happen. Perhaps he ought to make sure Fundy knows that.

Later, though. When they’ve both cooled down a bit.

“Hey, Wil,” she says. “Good party, huh?”

“It is,” he says. “I’m sort of beat, though, so I think I might go hit the hay, as it were. Just wanted to tell someone before I left, in case anyone wondered.”

“Okay,” she says, and her eyes pinch around the edges a little bit. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

She nods. “It’s been a long day,” she says, echoing his thoughts. “I’ll let everyone know, if they ask.” Her smile returns, full force, and she steps forward and takes his hand in hers. “Really, though, congratulations. I’m really proud of you. Anyone can see how much you care about this place, and that’s why they want you to keep leading it.”

His mouth has, unaccountably, gone slightly dry. “I do care,” he says. “But we all do. I mean, you literally made our flag. I don’t think I’ve told you enough how cool that is.”

“I wanted to,” she says simply, though she’s obviously pleased. “You don’t have to thank me for it. Every country should have a flag.”

“And every country should have someone who cares enough to sew it,” he says. “I’m glad it was you.”

“And I’m glad that this is you,” Niki replies, making a gesture toward the festivities around them, and the empty stage over to the side. Her eyes sharpen. “Even if I kind of wanted to be vice president. But you’re a good leader, Wilbur, and you’re a good man. A good friend. You deserve this. So go get some sleep, alright? Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting, and she rolls her eyes, pushing him away.

“Go on,” she insists, but there is laughter in her voice and a crinkle at the corners of her eyes, and she looks happy, too. Everyone looks very happy. Even Fundy seems to be involved in things by now, and Quackity, his fiercest competition, appears to be enjoying himself.

Everyone is happy. So is he. There’s no reason at all for him not to be.

He tells himself that he’s going to go get some sleep, but his feet take him back to his office, instead. It’s empty, cast in a dim haze until he switches on the light, and just like that, the darkness is gone. His eyes flit across his desk, his chair, his shelves, all the paperwork that he’s definitely going to have to deal with, now that he knows for sure that he will continue to lead. He also has a potted plant, though he can’t quite recall who gave it to him. Might have been Tubbo, but he’s not sure.

He doesn’t sit. He goes to the window, presses himself up against it close enough to see the outside rather than his own reflection in the glass. Torchlight flickers, illuminating the country before him, and the walls are looming giants in the deepening night. He can see the cluster of lights where the others are, too, and he can see their dancing shadows, glimpses of their faces, far away echoes of their laughter.

Maybe he ought to go back. Some part of him wants to. He’s not sure why he’s holding himself away.

It’s probably because he’s tired. Because he is. Tired. Very tired.

It has been a long day.

He watches for a moment longer, and then closes his curtains, shutting out the world beyond this room. He turns to his desk, then, and his paperwork, though he’s loath to actually work on anything tonight, despite the fact that there’s a million things he could be doing. Drafting a formal missive to Dream, for instance, in light of his official election to power. Ensuring continued good standings between their nations—because as little as he likes the man, he’s not going to provoke him again, if it can be helped.

Especially not with Tommy—the way that he is. Not until he’s gotten to the bottom of that, and probably not even after.

So, he should write to Dream. He should also write to Phil. Tell him about what’s been going on. He’s been considering asking for advice on the whole Tommy situation, actually—Phil’s old as balls, so maybe he might know what to do, or even what this could be about. It’s a long shot, of course, but it’s worth a try.

Except he doesn’t particularly want to do either of those things. Not at the moment. But then, that doesn’t leave him with a whole lot of options, so why did he come here in the first place if he didn’t intend to do something? He ought to go to bed, like he said he would.

But then—

“Hey, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and he looks up, blinking. Quackity’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. Somewhere along the line, he’s regained his clothes. “Knock, knock.”

“Quackity,” he says. “Good to see you. Here, come in, pull up a chair.”

Quackity quirks a brow, but that seems to be all the invitation he needs. He all but saunters in, grabbing one of the chairs and tugging it right up against the desk.

“I actually did want to speak with you at some point,” he continues.

“Then this works out, doesn’t it?” Quackity says. “I had the same idea. I figured we should clear the air or something like that. If it even needs clearing, I dunno. What do you think?”

“It certainly can’t hurt to talk,” he agrees.

“Right,” Quackity says. “Well, I guess I should start off by saying good job. Congrats on winning.” He smiles, and there’s something sharp in it, something of a challenge. Wilbur can’t say that he hates it; it’s good to be challenged, every now and then. And now, there’s less danger in it, his position secure. “Though I really gave you a run for your money, didn’t I? And Jack, of course.”

Jack’s name is added as an afterthought. He’s always had the impression that Quackity would rather have picked someone else for his running mate. But he left it fairly late, and by the time he decided that he definitely wanted one, there weren’t many people left to choose from. Tubbo wouldn’t have joined him, and Eret stayed out of the whole affair, and in terms of L’Manberg citizens, that pretty much just left Jack Manifold.

He wonders who Quackity would have chosen, if he’d had free reign of the SMP. Somehow, he’s glad that didn’t happen. Good foresight, on Tommy’s part, to add that restriction. And a good idea in general, too.

“You did,” he says with a nod. “It was a good showing. You were the one I was worried about, to be honest with you. If anyone could have beaten me, it would have been you.”

“You’re damn right,” Quackity answers. “We got close. But no cigar, I guess. There’s always next time.”

Next time. Next time.

Right. Elections are a fairly regular thing. He’ll have to do this again.

Right, no, that’s—fine. It’s fine. And it wouldn’t be for a while yet, so he doesn’t even have to think about it right now.

“But I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings between us,” Quackity says. He leans back in his chair, tipping it so that only two legs rest on the floor, and he regards him. “I mean, I meant what I said on the campaign trail, and I still stand by it. I don’t know that you’re taking this country in the best direction, Wilbur. I don’t know that it’s not gonna—stagnate, under you, or that Dream won’t come up and declare war again. I meant all of that. But it’s not like I don’t like you as a person, and you’ve won fair and square, so I was hoping we could put our differences behind us. Let bygones be bygones and all that.”

He’s heard everything that Quackity has to say on the matter of his leadership, and hearing it all again is a bit—irritating. But the honesty is refreshing, was then and still is now, and he’d rather these things be said to his face than whispered behind his back.

And also, there’s the fact that it’s Quackity. It was Tommy who convinced him to let him join in the first place, but the man’s grown on him, he’ll confess.

“I would have trusted you to lead,” he admits, and meets Quackity’s gaze squarely. “I disagree with you on quite a few matters, but I believe that you have L’Manberg’s best interests at heart. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s all water under the bridge.”

He speaks nothing but the truth. Quackity is—not precisely the vision he has in mind for L’Manberg’s future. But he cares about this place, that much is obvious. So if Quackity had won, he would have bowed out gracefully, would have established himself some property and entered a graceful retirement, at—at peace. Surely at peace, all of his questions answered and his guidance unneeded. His person no longer required.

His stomach turns, a gut-churning combination of longing and revulsion flooding him, impacting him so intensely that it’s a half-second scramble to make sure that none of it shows on his face, to lock everything back down again, to be interpreted later or forgotten about, depending on his mood.

“That’s great to hear,” Quackity says. “Friends?”

Quackity sticks out his hand.

“Friends,” he agrees, and takes it.

“Fantastic,” Quackity says. “I guess that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.” He gestures broadly, lips twitching upward. “Niki said you were gonna get some sleep, so I’d do that before she finds out you’re not.”

He can’t help but laugh, and Quackity stands. “I’ll take that under consideration,” he says. “Good night, Quackity.”

“Night, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and turns to go. But then, he stops in the doorway, looking back. “I just gotta ask, though, why all of this? Why have an election at all? Why risk losing? If you wanted to stay in charge, why not just stay in charge? No one would’ve questioned you, but instead, you put on all of this. Just to keep a position you ended up keeping anyway.”

Ah. His mind blanks for a moment, because he doesn’t know how to describe to Quackity the fact that people were already questioning him, if he didn’t pick up on that. But surely, he must have; Quackity himself built his entire campaign around questioning him. His right to lead, his capability, his intentions. And those sentiments could not have come from nowhere.

To be honest, he’s not certain that he has the words to explain it to himself, either.

“I could ask the same of you,” he says, “in regards to your running.”

Quackity stands there for a moment. And then tilts his head.

“I think we both know the answer to that, Wilbur,” he says, and his next smile is a wry thing. “See you tomorrow.”

And then, he’s gone.

And Wilbur does know.

He is not blind to Quackity’s desire for power. His desire to do something good with it, to be sure—he’s never caught any malice in his seeking. But what he seeks is power, and there is no mistaking that. Sometimes, Wilbur looks in his eyes and sees a reflection of himself. Paler, different, slanted, but a reflection nonetheless. He has heard the siren’s call of ambition and heard it well, and he recognizes that in Quackity, and Quackity recognizes it in him.

But it’s not just about power. Not for him, anyway. Or rather, it is power, to be sure, but it’s the power to keep safe. To protect. To be free. And to build something great, something that will outlive him, something that will make him worthy of the looks in people’s eyes when they meet his. That’s what it was about. And that’s why the election mattered.

Though for a moment, he lets himself picture it: retirement. A house, with plenty of room. Time to spare, for everyone and everything. A guitar, finally tuned again. A warm summer’s day, and a crisp autumn’s evening. No pressure, few responsibilities, and an hour or several to sit under his own vine and fig tree.

But he doesn’t think he’s made for things like that, really.

And even besides, these idle speculations don’t matter. Quackity didn’t win, and he remains president of this nation. There will be no quiet retirement, not yet. There is so much work that he has to do, and he can feel all those future tasks piling on his shoulders, weights stacking on his skin, clinging like barnacles on a weathered, abandoned pier.

And it’s all alright, because it’s what he wants.

Without this, where would he stand? With himself, and with the others? They all look to him for a reason, so what would happen if that reason were gone?

No. Best not to let his mind wander down that path.

His ambitions are realized. The elections are over. His people are happy, and they still want him. They still believe he can do right by them. They are celebrating his victory even now. Tommy was smiling, and there was none of that strange, terrifying darkness in his gaze.

He has everything he wants.

He checks his communicator, idly. There’s a few messages from people on the server, those who aren’t at the party. Most are congratulatory. There’s Dream, asking for a meeting already, but he anticipated that. There’s even a few messages from people off-world, and he raises an eyebrow at those—inter-server communication costs a pretty penny, so he’s a bit surprised that Technoblade put the effort in to send a message that just says lame. Or maybe he shouldn’t be surprised at all. And Schlatt’s sent him some snarky congratulations, and he supposes he should answer him, since he went through the trouble. Though he’s not going to invite him, still, no matter how nice it might be to catch up. Not until he figures out what Tommy’s problem with him is, and whether it’s solvable.

But he types out a response to both, a quick Like you can talk, Potato Man to Techno and something a bit longer and properly sarcastic to Schlatt, wincing at the cost of shooting the messages through the void, across worlds, and then sets his communicator to the side. Stares at his desk, then at the covered window. He can still hear them.

He stopped smiling at some point. He doesn’t know when.

He picks up his pen, then sets it back down again. Drags a paper closer with his index finger, and then pushes it back. Slips his hand into his pocket to find his glasses, and then brings it out again, empty of everything but dust.

There’s work to do, and he should either get started or he should go to sleep, but his brain doesn’t seem to want to get the memo. So he sits.

He’s tired. That’s why he’s in this kind of mood. He’s tired, so he’ll just sit here until he feels ready to get some true rest, and it’ll all look better in the morning. Not that it doesn’t look good now.

But he is very tired.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #quackity #nihachu #dsmp fic #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au #if this fic were divided into acts #this would mark the end of act 1 :)

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meenah-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Safe haven

a Diavolo x GN! MC fanfic

2.36k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger warning: Insane deadly stunt but not suicide, please don't read if you have this triggers. And please don't try this at home... or anywhere

Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~) | Part 3 (Safe Haven ~Epilogue~)

Masterlist

It is their sanctuary. A place that has everything they could wish for...

if only, fate isn't fickle...

"If I jump, will you save me again?"

"What a wretched soul I have..."

It’s been an hour since they were staring far in the horizon. Dusk is on its way, with the lake gulping the sun whole to bring forth darkness in the grassy land they’re on. That place is secluded, surrounded with trees serving as its walls. As if it were cradling them away from everything.

It's not their first-time watching day turn to night on where they are. They’ve known that spot enough to vividly paint the place on a whim.

It was neither a simple place as it seems. That place is a part of the human realm, untouched by anyone but two persons— them and Diavolo. A place which witnessed how the said Prince dropped on his knees and confessed he likes them. The place they admit they felt the same.

The place where they held hands in their secret rendezvous; times where the Future king would go to whenever he ran away from his endless responsibilities for a day and spend it with them, with words of affections and adorations for each other. It is their safe haven.

The Forget-me-not flowers they planted are blooming around them. As the two sat beneath the shade of the tree, appreciating the presence of the flowers and each other.

Diavolo has a habit of caressing their cheeks, brushing strands of their locks past their ears, as he embraces them as if they were the most precious treasure, he has ever held. Those smiles he would beam; brighter than the sol they always see. "You're the most beautiful being I have ever seen." And they would smile back, with their feelings overflowing so much they would always pour it back to him with a kiss.

But being always in that place doesn't mean they never left it. There are times they would give him a heart attack by literally jumping off the edge of the cliff. The demon prince then would follow them in a snap, before transforming right before their eyes and seizing them.

They knew it was a foolish thing to do. No sane person would ever carry out such dumb, dangerous stunt. They do have a magic or two under their sleeves should Diavolo fail the task. Spells they would feverishly study and tirelessly practice for the sake of the success of the Exchange Student program; for the sake of making Diavolo proud of them. So, they studied hard, yet fools only around their beloved.

So, they kept on flying off to the danger at every given chance. For the feeling during the times they would fall, they had the best view they could ever see in their lifetime. How the demon they ever loved could be so... breathtaking. Turning into his demon form—metamorphosing like a dazzling butterfly, his red locks fluttering in the wind, with such golden ornaments, such golden eyes reflecting the radiance of the sun. And most of all, such playful, thrilled smiles they would willingly lay their life just to see. He seems like the mesmerizing golden red dusk. He may be a demon, but Diavolo is much more divine than the angels in their eyes.

And to think that such an ambrosial prince would hold them in his firm arms, and bury them in his well-toned chest before gliding up in the air. They really love the feeling. Akin to the flowers they cultivate symbolizes, he is their true love.

"Should we land back on the top of the land?"

"Just a little bit longer." Humming, they would place a peck onto the tip of his horn or temple whenever they would request something so badly, which then would receive a chuckle from the Demon. "Hahaha, what a pampered human... Alright, just a little bit longer." And who knows how long they stay in the air. Then they would share small talks back on the cliff, and soon be bombarded with tons of messages and missed calls from the butler and the right-hand man. They would head back home after that, before the said aides decide to search for them and find their secret haven.

It was all they could ever wish for. An everlasting love to carry inside their mortal heart.

They have everything they could ask for, until that day comes. A moonless, rainy night during the celebration of Diavolo's birth.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, the Future King of Devildom." …the day she came. Rosa, a rather respected princess, and the daughter of Queen Rose.

"...N-No, the pleasure is mine." Whether he was flustered by her sudden appearance or not, something was rather amiss. His gaze towards her was different than anything they've ever seen him make. So different yet... familiar. Like the way his eyes sparked of reverie the day they first met, except it was more profound.

Diavolo sighed, "I'm telling you, you don't have to worry. You know you're the one I love." It was nothing, he said. It was only in their imagination, he said. Even so, the connection between the two they perceived every time the two met on business, felt so real.

They were so anxious, so angry they wanted to explode. They want to blame it all on that demon princess who appeared out of nowhere, and brought everything to a big mess! They wanted to lash at her, right from the deepest pit of their stomach!

...Yet, they didn't.

They simply can't. Not when she was like an angel who descended in the land of darkness.

So pure yet so wise, so diligent and well-versed. She is strong-willed and rather capable in every aspect. She doesn't deserve to be blamed for something she didn't mean to do. It was merely a work of two hearts naturally falling for each other. It was inevitable.

Instead of brooding without doing anything, they will fight. They will fight for what's theirs. For what's right. For the specks of affection left inside Diavolo. For their love, they won't give up.

Or so they thought...

"Y/N, would you mind having tea with me later?" Barbatos asked for their attendance.

But unlike the usual afternoon tea they always share with the butler, "Where's Diavolo?" ... the prince is not around.

"The Young master has prior engagement and brought Lucifer in my stead. My apologies if it was not to your liking."

"Ahh, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that... having snacks with only you are unusual." It's not unusual. Rather, it never occurred even once. Diavolo tends to postpone the teatime for another time whenever he can't go, as Barbatos always join his absence.

"Actually, I asked you today about an important matter to discuss."

"...Is it related to Diavolo and me, isn't it?" They shouldn't have asked him. They hated themself for asking Diavolo's attendant.

"Yes. To be precise, it is about your relationship and the lady you met during Young master's birthday. I believe you have the right to know this." They held their breath. "I hate to break it to you but the lady you met back then, is the Young Master's... fiancée and his soulmate." The words that came off Barbatos' lips felt like cold water dumped on them.

They just want to end the conversation right there and leave the garden as fast as they can, but they forcefully pull themself together and learn the whole truth, as painful as it is for them. "...Fiancee, you said? And what do you mean by soulmate?"

"For every heir of the throne, there is a prophecy foretelling the righteous betrothed one fated for them. This Oracle has never once failed in predicting who..." Barbatos paused, evaluating whether they could take any more. "...would help the Ruler in bringing prosperity in the Devildom."

After a minute of silence, they spoke. "Does Diavolo know all about this? About her?"

"Yes... but I swear in my name, he has always wanted to be free of the prophecy and achieve prosperity through his own power."

"Where is he headed to at the moment?"

"..." Barbatos' silence tells them everything. He is with her. That's all that they needed to know.

"I... see... Thank you for telling me this."

"I— no, I don't deserve such words from you." They shook their head, "You still disclosed this even when Diavolo wanted to keep it a secret from me. I'm sorry I brought trouble to you."

"It was my own choice. I'm just doing what I think is right."

"Thank you, really..."

They left the castle, thinking a lot of things but also finally enlightened.

They never had Diavolo's heart from the start.

He is the future of the Devildom, the future of all the demons who could easily outlive them. And for that he needs an Empress who can fully support him and bear another long-lived heir. His soulmate, his forever, his other half. Everything that they could never be.

Their life is short. His' is not. He could never fathom the extent of his life like they could. That is also the reason why they could love him until the day they cease to exist, a mere blink to him.

As obvious as the glaring sun that blinds them atop that cliff, his love... is gone.

They could see it in his eyes. Every day he spends with them, his mind is somewhere else.

Even in their favorite place, his embraces were still as cold as the mountain's peak. His smile is too forced, like a one man playing before their eyes. His kisses were prickling and painful. And his gaze... He is suffering.

Like they were.

"Forgive me." It was for the Devildom, he said. His head hangs low, wearing that distressed expression.

"Hey, lift your head? The future king shouldn't bow to anyone." They smiled, cupping his cheeks to raise his face.

"Look, I understand." It was a surprise they didn't shed a drop of tear, as they pat his head gently. "Follow your heart. You'll become a great king."

He made a wise decision, to choose his bond that suddenly came that day. Someone who really owns Diavolo's heart per destiny's decree. The heart they thought he offered back then, with the trees, and the cool breeze, and the swaying leaves, and the sunset as their witnesses. The heart they thought were already theirs. The heart that slipped from their fingers as he let go of their hand when Diavolo locked eyes with his fated one.

Diavolo's love is fleeting. Or maybe it was never love from the start, but a mere curiosity on his end. A misconception, but it doesn't matter anymore. They already knew the answer.

He already achieved his true love, holding his Empress in white. He wears that smile, much, much brighter than anything they have ever seen.

The bells sing with the crowd in jubilation. It is a merry occasion, with the official new rulers of the Devildom. All were so elated.

Except for one. "What a wretched soul I have..." they uttered under their breath. They couldn't take the sight. With the man they so love to be happy in someone's arms. Rage was boiling inside them. Staying there for a second longer and they would definitely ravage everything. So, they fled the scene, escaping to their secret place surrounded by the lake and the sea of trees.

They wanted to let it all out. Pain, sorrow, rage, envy. They were overflowing with emotion more than they could take. It should be them, placing a ring on his finger! the one smiling and crying of happiness as he makes a vow! The one who should be kissing him in front of thousands of witnesses!

"WHY?! What did I do to deserve this?!" The swaying blue and white Forget-me-nots they took with utmost care came to view. "What useless plants!!" They cried out, yanking and tearing everything off the soil. "True love?! It was only me from the very start!!"

All they could do was cry. Scream until their throat goes dry, until their voice disappears.

When all energy left their body, they slumped in the grassy land they’re on. In that secluded place, surrounded with trees serving as its walls. As if it were cradling them away from everything. Hiding their wretched self from everyone.

Dazed, they stared at the sky for an hour. As its hue turns from light blue to red, their mind gets clearer. That's when they heard a familiar sound. They followed it on the tip of the cliff.

It was the roaring waves beneath the land mass. It seems like it's continuing the cries they couldn't do anymore. Roaring like it was spilling the emotions inside them.

"If I jump, will you save me again?" They spoke to the man who is no longer in that secret place. It will never be a safe haven for them anymore.

"I want to be saved by you one more time." I want to be embraced by you one last time.

They faced their back to the rim of the cliff, and took a step backward. A foot standing on a void. And so, their body tipped, losing the other foot from the ground. As their balance disappears, they see nothing but the golden rays of the sunset and the redness of the dusk. So red like Diavolo's locks, golden like his eyes. There's nothing but only traces of him; of the man who doesn't really love them as he promised.

This is foolish... They thought. They're all alone. No Diavolo will fly down and save them anymore.

"I should go home..." Dying here would only hurt him... They whispered as the firm breeze swirls beneath, ready to catch them. After all, no one will save me but I... thinking of that, another pang spiked their heart.

But the wind spell they casted couldn't catch them. When they should have been falling, a hand appeared and pulled them in an embrace.

"Please don't do this..." it was not the warmth they were expecting. Yet, streams began flowing down their cheeks, in comfort of another’s arms. With their hoarse voice they sob the sorrow of losing their safe haven.

Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~) | Part 3 (Safe Haven ~Epilogue~)

Masterlist

#guess who fell asleep like a baby while editing this?#and while using a laptop #hahaha still I finished it anyways 😆😆💖💖#obey me diavolo #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo angst #obey me barbatos #obey me mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #om!#obey me swd #obey me masters #obey me boys #meenah-chan~~

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

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NERVOUS ROBIN D.G.

Request: Could I please get Young justice Robin/dick Grayson with a quiet reserved s/o? So about her is that she's part of the team but has no power and she get flustered easily when she's around with Robin and only him because she has crush on him and she try to not blushes and stay serious.

Warning: fluff

A/N: I changed this into a headcanon I thought it worked a little better, I hope you don’t mind! (Also this was written around the time of American Thanksgiving lmao sorry for the theme)

- Joining the team was not your idea. At all. It was Oliver's. He had taken you in when you were young and taught you everything that you knew right alongside Roy. Since Speedy was joining, that seemed to automatically mean that you were as well

- you knew of the other teens joining. KF, Robin, Aqualad - it was an exciting time for all of them. You on the other hand? Much more content sticking at Ollie's side and not packed in a team with kids you didn't even know. Even if Roy was going to be there, it didn't make you feel any better about joining.

- And then Roy left, deeming that he was too good for the team and when you tried to leave right alongside him? Oliver stopped you. You were too young to go off on your own, too young to try and fight crime with someone as hot headed as Roy. So you stayed.

- Sure, the other guys made you feel at home. Robin, Wally -Conner and M'gann. It was okay being on the team, but they were always trying to get you to join with everything. Time alone was time well spent - and they couldn't seem to get that through their heads.

- Maybe it was because of the same self-reservation that you had but it was easy to start to crush on Robin. His ridiculous laugh, the way that he always liked to prove he was right in a way that didn't make him look like a jerk. Not to mention how adorable he was too.

- Training with him was the worst. Often times you got paired with him since you were without powers as well. It seemed like a fair fight considering you were both on the same skill level. However, Dinah always forgot to consider just how much of a mess you were around him.

- It was impossible to stay on the task at hand when he was there - especially when you knew he was watching you. You always found yourself turning your gaze towards him. Even the split second looks had you messing up completely.

- The absolute WORST when Conner decides to say something about you being near Robin.

- "Why's your heart beating so fast"

- and of course Wally has to overhear and join in, totally teasing you that maybe you really do have a crush on Robin. He doesn't know just how right he is, but he continues on nonetheless until you storm out of the room.

- Never hearing the end of it from Wally for weeks after that. He catches you looking over at Robin and he's by your side asking when you plan to propose to him. Or point out how flustered you are every time you have to work together.

- it's the comments over the comms that really get to you because Robin is the only one to not understand what's going on.

- '(Y/N) got any big plans later tonight? Rob? No? hmm, maybe you should do something together'

- 'Wow (Y/N) I dig the new suit. What do you think, Rob?'

- It's just past subtle that it drives you crazy

- The team suddenly putting you and Robin together for literally everything. You're not sure if it's because they're trying to get you together or because they just like to see how flustered you are around him.

- Robin inviting you to his home on thanksgiving because you and Oliver are having a huge fight and you have nowhere else to go.

- Nearly fainting when you see him without his suit and mask because holy shit is this boy beautiful. The most stunning blue eyes that you had ever seen in your entire life and it's impossible not to get lost in them. It's even harder not to be a mess around him without your own mask to hide behind

- Dick getting way to excited to show you around the batcave. ~grabbing your hand~ to drag you around everywhere in the massive manor and in the cave. He doesn't realize he's still holding it as you run into Bruce and they have an entire conversation while you're still holding his hand - not wanting to let go and to shocked to

- Bruce thinking it's adorable when Dick's cheeks get rosy upon realizing that he didn't let go of you. Unfortunately not noticing that he blushed.

- Starting to hang out way more after that when training. Still being a mess around him but now Wally's started to pick up that Dick is too.

- Now he's teasing the both of you separately and it becomes the most entertaining thing to see you both stumble over your words or mess up while doing something because of what he says. Wally brings out the popcorn every time you spar together now because it's just so entertaining to watch you both be hesitant around each other.

- Dick finally has enough of Wally's comments and jokes one day.

- Completely out of the blue you're in the kitchen with M'gann trying to help her make some new recipe that she wanted to try when Dick comes storming into the kitchen with Wally right behind. Neither of you have any time to ask what's going on before Dick grabs your cheeks and kisses you

- You don't have time to react out of your shocked state. M'gann drops the spoon she's holding and Wally's absolutely losing his shit at the site that he's seeing.

- By the time he pulls away you've finally realized what happens. Dick, your crush, kissed you completely randomly and completely perfectly. He glares at Wally before leaving the room, not explaining himself to anyone - not even you.

- Wally speeding you so you're standing only inches away from your chests touching. No one's around this time. Dick's cheeks are bright red and he's trying his best to avoid your gaze.

- "I really like you" The words aren't meant to completely blurt out but now you've done it and there's no taking it back. It's painful waiting for him to respond. Decades, hours, seconds pass and he still doesn't say anything. Maybe he doesn't need to - maybe another kiss will give you the answer you need. And it does.

- Dick's hesitant this time. he doesn't have the surge of confidence and frustration this time around. His hands latch onto your lips, pulling you closer. Its far more perfect than the last one - and this time you're actually able to kiss him back without being in complete shock.

- "I like you too"

- Wally is incredibly proud of himself for finally getting you guys together after that painfully long wait.

#dickgrayson #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson x reader #robin #robin imagine #young justice #young justice imagine #young justice headcanons #dc imagine #dc #dc headcanon #wally west #kid flash #bruce wayne #batman #m'gann m'orzz

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gravityunforgiven · 4 years ago

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Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)

Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade

Synopsis:

She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?

...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?

Feel free to reblog!

Chapter Five

When Tsunade stepped outside the casino, she was frozen in her steps. She knew almost instantly that Akira was close by. She could still feel the faint but lingering presence of her chakra.

Akira’s here. She’s here.

There was no way Tsunade could have possibly mistaken Akira’s chakra for someone else’s. She may not have have seen her for a decade but Tsunade could never forget the familiarity of Akira’s presence. She knew it like the back of her hand.

Akira’s chakra has always been a little different than of a normal shinobi largely due to the fact that wasn’t like the rest of them either. The uniqueness of her chakra was hidden in plain sight and would have been very obvious if one knows what to look for.

By each passing second, Tsunade could feel herself sobering up. The sudden realization that her daughter was in such a close vicinity caught her off guard. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions she had been trying to ignore for the past ten years.

She wanted to see her.

She had been meaning meaning to see Akira so many times in the last years that she had lost count of them. She had even gone as far as to reach the outskirts of their village only to turn back around and run for the hills. Tsunade just couldn’t face Akira. She was scared of what awaits her once she returned home, afraid of what Akira would say after she left her so many years ago.

She was terrified to be a burden for her daughter. It was never her intention to leave as long as she did, she only wanted to grieve properly and move on from Dan and Nawaki’s death but for some reason, a decade later, she was still grieving.

Tsunade didn’t exactly know what she was doing but she somehow found herself roaming around the unfamiliar village for the last person keeping her alive.

Just a glimpse. Just a glimpse then I’ll be gone. Tsunade kept repeating the words to herself. She had continously kept tabs on Akira through Jiraiya but there was nothing like seeing her in the flesh.

Tsunade was well aware of the fact that she had hurt her daughter and she knew that her sudden return would cause her only more pain. She just couldn’t do that again. She just wasn’t ready to put Akira through all of that all over again.

Though Tsunade could easily discern Akira’s chakra from a specific distance, she was certain that it was not the case for her daughter. Though it was clear that Akira was blessed with a remarkable skill in chakra control like her mother, Akira was just too young to remember Tsunade’s chakra. She was just so young.

It wasn’t long until Tsunade found her sitting on the bar of a sushi shop. Tsuande’s breath was caught in her throat. For a moment, the world around her disappeared and all she could see was her daughter. She was sitting on her own, her back faced Tsunade but there was no doubt in Tsunade’s mind that it was Akira.

She knew it was her.

Her hair that used to reach her waist as a child now fell just a little past over her shoulder in waves of light blonde, a familiar Konoha issued cloak hung neatly on the back of her chair but Akira’s gaze was worlds away. She spun a chopstick in between her fingers as she stared at practically nothing.

Tsunade realized Akira was here on a mission. Tsunade almost scoffed at herself for thinking otherwise. Of course, she’s here on a mission. What was I expecting?

She would never admit it even to herself but a part of her still hoped that her worst fears hasn’t become a reality. Throughout the years, Jiraiya had relentlessly assured Tsunade that there was no reason for her to believe that Akira loathed her. He had told her that Akira understood why her mother left but she knew deep down that Akira must have hated her for leaving. She hated herself for leaving.

What she did was cruel and selfish. But it was better than dragging Akira down with her to a pit of endless grieving and what ifs.

She had her glimpse of Akira. She had with her own two eyes how Akira had grown into an astonishing young woman. Tsunade knew she should leave. It was obvious that Akira was better off without her but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She knew she was being selfish yet again. Akira deserved so much better than her, she deserved a mother who can take care of her and not someone who needed taking care of.

Tsunade knew that the right thing to do was to keep her distance and she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or just her but she found herself weaving hand signs and masking her appearance before closing the gap that separated her from her daughter.

She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do when she sat on the stool next to Akira but the words came out of her mouth without her permission.

“You’re a long way from home.” Akira stopped mid-sip from her drink and looked at her right where the voice came from and found a woman clearly in her late 50s with graying hair and a smirk.

For the second time that night,Tsunade’s breath was caught in her throat. When Akira’s eyes pierced into her own, for a split second, she saw Dan’s face instead. Even when Akira was young, people had told her how much they looked similar but seeing at her now, Tsunade thought how wrong all of them were. Akira had always been so much like Dan than she was of her. They just didn’t know him enough to see.

Akira blinked a couple of times in confusion, unsure if she was the one being talked to by the unfamiliar woman. “I’m sorry?”

Instincts were suddenly taking over Akira’s entire body. She discreetly checked the shuriken holster on her left leg just in case the woman attacked.

“You’re Tsunade’s daughter.” She said as a matter of fact then casually orders a dish from the menu.

“Oh, no.” A defeated sigh escaped Akira’s lips. I know where this is going. She had encountered this conversation too many times than she wanted to remember. The resemblance between her and her mother kept giving away their relationship to the people Tsunade had a debt to.

“She owes you money doesn’t she?”

The woman chuckled, the lines on her face becoming more visible as she did so. “ She does actually.”

Akira shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m not paying for her.” Akira was definitely curious about the woman now. She seemed familiar, like they’ve met somewhere before though Akira was absolutely certain this was the first time she had ever seen the lady.

“Do I know you?” Akira’s eyes narrowed amd Tsunade’s heart skipped a beat.

“I used to know when you were younger.” That wasn’t exactly a lie in Tsunade’s part. She did know Akira as a child. Not anymore. The person sitting right next to her was completely different from the child who bid her goodbye on the village gates. That child was oblivious, unaware, still free from the gravity of her duties. This girl, no, this woman she was seeing bled of confidence and grace in ever action. Tsunade could see from her face how she had embraced her responsibilities wholeheartedly despite its burden. She had grown into someone Tsunade could only dream of becoming.

“Really?” Akira’s right eyebrow arched this time, still suspicious. So, Tsunade, still enamoured by the presence of her daughter, continued her cover story. She told her stories, facts only someone from the village would know and things no one would have known if they didn’t see Akira grow up. And true enough, Akira was convinced of her identity.

For what seemed like only a few minutes for Tsunade but hours in reality, the two exchanged stories with each other. It was much easier this way. To Akira, she was just a retired shinobi traveling the world, not someone living a life full of regrets. She told her stories of her time as a shinobi, the adventures, the missions, something she never had the chance to do when Akira was younger as she did not fully understood yet what it takes to become a shinobi. Still, she was careful to keep her cover on and noticed that Akira never mentioned any names. But still, it didn’t took long for Akira to succumb into the familiarity of the elder lady.

She didn’t have a lot of women in her life growing up. She had her friends for sure but Rin was gone, Kurenai was just only a few years older than her and even Kushina was not much older either. They were like her older sisters and Biwako Sarutobi became her honorary grandmother. The fact that the two most important women in her life died at the same night didn’t help at all. She didn’t have anyone to buy clothes with or talk to when her budding romance with Kakashi at the time became all too confusing. She went through all of these alone. Of course, she had Jiraiya but despite being the writer the Make Out Series, there were things only a fellow woman can understand.

As the older lady continued to speak next to her, Akira wondered if this is what it felt like to have a mother. The shinobi in her told her to shut up, pack her things and leave the woman who literally showed up from nowhere. She reminded herself that genjutsu was not exactly her strong suit but the other part of her was a little too assured that this woman was harmless and she was technically part of her old life. She was just so kind and she listened and laughed with her.

They talked about the village and how much it has changed over the last few years. Tsunade told her abour her travels and the places she had visited and it came to her knowledge that Akira had dreamt to travel sthe world as well. Not for missions, but for herself. When Tsunade asked asked what was stopping her, Akira’s answer was short but it was more than enough for her to see the dedication that she has for the village. Like her father.

“I guess I want to protext my people more than anything.” She answered with a shrug and a smile. Tsunade knew she meant each word from the look in her eyes alone. Akira told her how protecting the village was what she wants to do the most not because she needs to,but because she wants to. There was nothing else she would rather be than be a protector of her home.

“So you want to become Hokage, then? Is that what you want too?” Do you have his dream too?

Akira’s laugh filled the air. “No.” she chuckled. “I don’t really like paperwork.” This made Tsunade laugh herself. She guess that Akira had seen the mountains of paperwork from the Third Hokage and it did not look appealing to her either.

“ I prefer protecting the village from the outside. Besides, I’m better off at field work anyway.”

“Captain?” Their converstaion was interrupted by two seemingly normal shinobis to the normal eye but their all too familiar black cloaks immediately gave away their identities to Tsunade.

ANBU.

Akira quickly excused herself from their conversation and headed out. Tsunade was well aware of the fact that Akira had joined the ANBU at an age younger than what everyone was accustomed to but she was never informed that Akira had become a team captain. Both she and Jiraiya had been against the idea of Akira being an ANBU knowing how dangerous the missions they were sent to are but there was really nothing anyone could do when Akira sets her mind to something. All they could do was to watch and pray that she would come home every time.

The three talked in hushed tones but Tsunade heard enough to perceive that whatever their mission is, it was not going as planned.

There was a moment of silence between the three as Akira contemplated what their next move would be.

“Tell the others we’re moving out on the first light.” Her command was curt but spoken with absolute finality.

When Akira returned to her seat, there was a noticeable change in her mood. “Mission’s not going well, huh?” Tsunade asked though the answer was more than obvious by the look in Akira’s face.

Akira let out a deep and frustrated sigh. “I don’t really like long-term missions.”

“Someone waiting for you back home?” Tsunade took her chances and asked. She wondered if Akira had had the chance to fall in love yet. She hoped that Akira hadn’t yet as she wanted to be there for her daughter when she starts dating but the deep flush of red quickly spreading across Akira’s cheeks told her otherwise.

Oh.

Akira contemplated for a second wether she would divulge that information to the still annamed woman but before she could tell herself to stop, s smile was already forming on her lips.

“There is, actually.”

Man, I really should shut-up now.

Tsunade could see a gleam in Akira’s eyes as she told her how much this man means to her. All her worries from her mission seemed to disappear with the mention of the man. She looked incredibly happy and for that, Tsunade was beyond grateful.

If you ever find yourself in the Land of Fire, You should come by to the village. I think he would love to meet you.” Akira says as she gestured for the bill.

Tsunade would love to meet him as well knowing that she is forever indebted to this person for bringing joy into her daughter’s life.

The two women reached for the bill at the same time, and for a split second, their skins touched. All Tsunade could think about was heat.

Akira’s skin was abnormally hot against her. The medic ninja in her was sure that Akira had a fever of at least a hundred at the bare minimum.

“I got this. It’s the least I could do for my mother.” Akira says, pulling out a couple of bills from her wallet.

“You’re sick.” Tsunade placed a hand on Akira’s forehead and confirmed that she was warmer than usual.

Akira looked at her in confusion before dismissing her with a laugh. “I’m always warm.” She grinned. “That’s just me.”

Tsunade knew it must have been an effect of being the Okami’s reincarnation she had developed while growing up. It wasn’t like this when Akira was a child or she would have instantly noticed it.

Questions as to what else Akira may have developed plague Tsunade’s mind but she never had the chance to ask Akira because she was once again caught off guard when Akira placed her own Konoha issued cloak around Tsunade’s shoulders.

“Here. Looks like you need it more than I do.” Akira adjusted the cloak on Tsunade’s shoulder and zipped it into place.

“But it’s cold out-“

“I’m always warm remember?” Akira held the entrance curtains of the shop out of the way for Tsunade.

The two of them stood outside the shop where the moon was already shining bright and the streets were lit with street lights.

“You know between the two of us, you have more chances in seeing my mother more than I do.” Akira started. She knew that it was incredibly inappropriate to ask a favor from someone she had just met and whom she refuses to grace with her name but she was desperate. She had to see her mother even for a moment.

Akira had made it a point to not talk about Tsunade whenever Jiraiya was around knowing ythat the man was also having a hard time dealing with his own feelings and juggling his time between fulfilling his destiny and fathering Akira as much as he possibly can.

This woman was her last chance in order to talk to her mother and sparing Jiraiya.

“So if you ever see her, can you do me a favor and tell her to come home?” Akira looked straight into the eyes of her mother and Tsunade saw right through her and into the sadness Akira was trying so hard to conceal.

“Tell her that I understand that she doesn’t owe anything to me but I need to know-“ Akira’s voice broke.

“Tell her I need to know if it was me.” Akira forced a smile in her face. “I deserve at least that.”

I need to know if she left because I was different. Because I wasn’t like the others.

“Okay?”

“Of course.” There was nothing else Tsunade could say before Akira gave her one last smile - a smile that would haunt Tsunade for the rest of her days- before disappearing into the night with the hopes of seeing the kind woman once again

Tsunade was left on the street on her own ince again with only her thoughts to accompany her. Of all the possible scenarios that had ran through her head, never did she once imagine that Akira woulld blame herself for the decisions she made.

It was never Akira, It was always her who had the problem.

She had always been perfect to Tsunade’s eyes from the moment she was born. She was the one good thing that happened in Tsunade’s life. She was her miracle.

Tsunade promised herself that she would tell Akira that herself.

—————

Tsunade found herself standing outside the window of her daughter’s rented room, her eyes brimmed with tears as the gravity of what she had done all those years ago finally sinked in.

Akira blamed herself for something she had nothing to do with.

Just a few feet away from her, her daughter laid fast asleep on the futon. She was curled into a tight ball, the duvet only covering her lower body and the pillow that her head was supposed to be resting on, lay discarded on the floor.

Tsunade couldn’t help but smile. The familiarity of the scene she was witnessing felt right. It felt like home. She had done this thousands of times before, back when the woman in front of her was nothing but a baby that can fit right into her arms, then a young child whose abilities were one of a kind she posed a danger to her own, and now, a fine kunoichi who had already surpassed her predecessors in every aspect.

Yet despite that, Tsunade can still see the child she loved more than anyone or anything in the world. She can still see Dan in her. Akira may indeed inherited her mother’s looks but there was so much of Dan that lives in her.

She knew deep inside what she had to do. She needed to stop this nonsense. Dan may have been gone but he left her the most precious gift anyone could ask for and she was so busy tending to her own grief that she didn’t see who needed her the most.

Tsunade knew she needed to come home.

She needed to come home to Akira.

But she was a little too late.

Way too late.

—————

A/N: Thank you for all the support! I really appreciate them more than you can imagine.

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red-jaebyrd · 4 years ago

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My Brother’s Keeper

Ric hadn’t set out to make a new friend that day. In fact he hadn’t even expected to see the guy again once he had helped Ric push his busted cab to the side of the road.

Hardly anyone ever went out of their way to help others in Bludhaven. It surprised Ric when this guy, Jason just appeared as if out of nowhere to yell at honking drivers and help Ric get his cab out of the way of traffic. Ric had invited him to The Prodigal for a beer that night as a thank you. He wasn’t sure if Jason would even show up that night, but to his surprise he did.

“So what do you do when you're not swooping in to help complete strangers push their broken down cars out of rush hour traffic?” Ric asked.

Jason laughed. “Little bit of this, little bit of that, mostly free-lance stuff.”

It was a vague answer, but Ric let it slide. Everyone had their secrets, he couldn’t fault a guy he just met to have a few.

“Must be nice. Is it real lucrative?”

“The pay isn’t bad,” Jason shrugged. “I get to set my own hours and carry a gun.”

“Can’t argue with those perks,” Ric chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. “So did you grow up around here?”

“Nah, I grew up in Gotham, what about you?”

Ric tensed at hearing Gotham and gripped the handle of his beer mug tighter. He really hoped Jason wasn’t another one of Wayne’s associates trying to jog his memory and lure him back ‘home’. Maybe he should just play along.

“Same, seems everyone one I’ve run into lately is from Gotham.” Ric challenged.

“Well, to be fair Gotham is a pretty big place,” Jason replied causally. “So what brought you to Bludhaven?”

Ric shrugged allowing the tension to leave his shoulders. “Let’s just say I needed somewhere new to spread my wings.”

“And you chose Bludhaven?” Jason snorted. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Shut up.” Ric laughed, elbowing Jason in the arm. “Don’t knock it. You’re here too. What brought you to the ‘haven’?”

Jason ran a hand through his hair. His brow furrowed in thought before he answered. At first Ric thought that maybe he was prying too much into this guy’s life, or asking too many personal questions. He couldn’t help it. He liked talking and Jason was the first person besides Bea that was actually interested in talking to him.

“Gotham wasn’t safe for us anymore, so my brothers and I bailed and came here.”

“Looks like you left just in time. I heard a lot of crazy shit with the Bat was happening in Gotham. Wait, did you say ‘brothers’?” Ric’s smiled wistfully.

Jason nodded. “I have four. One was staying with our sister the last time I checked in with him and the other two came here with me.”

Ric had always wondered what it would be like to be part of a big family. He wondered if he had ever asked his parents for a brother or a sister. If they hadn’t died, would they have had more children? Would he have been a good big brother to them? Wayne did have a younger son, so Ric was technically a big brother, but he couldn’t remember his life with him. When it came to the Waynes, Ric was just a son and brother on paper.

“Where’s the other one? You said four brothers, but only mentioned three of them.”

He watched as Jason scratched along a groove in the wood of the bar, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. Ric’s stomach flipped as he started to speculate that maybe something serious did happen to Jason’s family. Or maybe Ric was just making Jason feel uncomfortable with all his questions. Ric did that sometimes when he got too excited talking to new people. Jason took a swig of his beer before answering Ric’s question.

“Our older brother...” Jason answered, running his fingers along the condensation of his mug. “…he went missing a few months ago. It’s been hard on the family, especially our father and my youngest brother.”

“I’m sorry. I can imagine it’s been difficult for everyone, especially you. It can’t be easy being the one that they depend on.”

Jason shook his head. “No, truthfully it sucks sometimes, but it has its moments. He was– I had a good role model and they’re good kids. They just miss him. I miss him too.”

“Well you got them somewhere safe,” Ric clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Well…relatively safe. Any leads on his whereabouts?”

“Nothing but dead ends. Deep down I don’t really think he wants to found,” Jason shrugged. “But I’ll keep looking for him. So what about you, any siblings?”

Ric knew a dismissal when he heard it. He didn’t mind the change in subject. He couldn’t blame Jason for not elaborating. It had to be stressful for anyone looking for a missing family member. He assumed this question was bound to make its way onto him.

“No, I’m an only child. My parents died when I was eight.”

“Shit, sorry man. We can talk about something else.”

“It’s fine. You told me about your brother. I can talk about this. I did get taken into a good home, so I shouldn’t really complain,” Ric shrugged.

“But…”

Ric shook his head. “It’s just frustrating to have these people who are supposed to be my ‘family’ constantly telling me how I should be living my life.”

“Oh, I know how that is, trust me. It’s the worst.”

“Right? Why can’t I live my life how I want to? I’m an adult. They’re not even interested in getting to know me,” Ric ranted. “They just want their precious ‘Dick Grayson’ back. It’s my life now not his, let me live it how I want to.”

Shit. He went too far. He could see the look of surprise on Jason’s face. The lull of silence between them stretched and Ric couldn’t form a cohesive thought. Ric’s brain was scrambling for something else to say, anything to say, to fix the mess he just made but nothing was coming. Instead his mind started replaying all recent moments of disappointed people coming and going in his life claiming that they loved him, but not wanting to take the time get to know him.

Ric really hated his brain sometimes and how there was no filter between what he was thinking and what came out of his mouth. He needed to explain himself to Jason fast. Ric knew Jason had to have noticed the gnarly scar on the side of his head. Maybe the scar would give him a free pass at his unfiltered choice of words.

“Sorry, sorry, that uh kinda came out of nowhere. I…uh…had a bit of an accident…” Ric explained, pointing at his scar. “…I got shot a few months ago and well let’s just say my “family” or whatever they want to call themselves, didn’t take to my recovery well.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes injuries that intense can either bring a family closer together or tear them apart.”

Ric shrugged his shoulders. It had been rough having to relearn how to do everyday tasks like eating, writing his name, and walking. His “family” and friends had been there at every therapy session encouraging him with their words and overall presence. But the worst of it had been their reactions to the news that his memories of them were gone.

“I couldn’t remember them,” Ric admitted, staring at his near empty beer mug. “They were literal strangers to me the moment I opened my eyes from the coma, and it was something that they wouldn’t accept. In the end their concern for me and my recovery just felt conditional, so I left and came here.”

“Damn. Do they at least check up on you?” Jason asked.

“The old man used to, but I haven’t seen him in a while. A red-headed chick did too, but I told her not to bother anymore. Not if she’s going to keep looking at me searching for ‘him’ to come back. Apparently the other guy they really want was a real ‘Golden boy’, that’s not me.”

Jason snorted.

“What did I say?” Ric quirked a smile.

“Nothing,” Jason smirked, and took a drink of his beer.

“I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need them.”

“No you don’t. I know they’re family, but fuck them.” Jason clinked his beer mug against Ric’s.

Oh Ric really liked this guy.

8888

The next few weeks Ric and Jason met up at The Prodigal for beers. Some nights all they did was talk and drink. Other nights they drank and played pool. Jason became one of Ric’s favorite drinking buddies.

Ric couldn’t legitimately remember ever having a feeling of kinship with anyone like Jason before in his life. It was nice and a bit scary at the same time letting someone new in his life. Still, instead of running away from this newfound friendship, Ric embraced it.

Friendship was a concept Ric wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to again. He didn’t have many friends in Bludhaven, well friends that he remembered. Dick’s old friends wanted nothing to do with him. They kept waiting and pushing for Dick to “come back”. When he finally snapped at them that Dick was gone and never coming back, they stopped visiting him. He did have Bea. She was the only one who had welcomed him with open arms and genuinely wanted to get to know him.

Jason had been the only other person he had run into that also didn’t have some hidden agenda to “bring Dick back”. With Jason there wasn’t any pressure or demand to be anyone other than himself. He could be Ric with no expectations thrust upon him. Jason empathized with Ric’s struggle to find his identity apart from the Waynes.

This was what made hanging out with Jason so easy. The anxiety of having to censor himself, afraid he might say or do something that was so inherently not Dick didn’t exist when he was around Jason. It was such a relief and a weight off Ric’s shoulders to just exist in a space with a friend and be himself.

Once Jason had opened up to Ric, he learned that there was a whole slew of shit that had happened to his friend in just a short amount of time. Aside from his brother going missing, Jason had a serious falling out with his dad that had caused a significant rift between them causing him to take his brothers and leave. However, the most devastating news had to be hearing that Jason’s best friend had been killed while staying at an inpatient rehabilitation facility.

“I wish I had some advice to give you, but something tells me you weren’t looking for any,” Ric said.

“No, not really, just a sympathetic ear, I guess.”

“I’m sorry about your best friend. That really sucks what happened to him.”

“Thanks, man. At least we got to work one last job together before he died. Anyway, that’s enough of my bullshit. What’s up with you? You look like my little brother after seven Red Bulls and 3 hours of sleep.”

Ric sighed. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but I’ve been having these dreams lately of faceless people in weird costumes. In the dream I feel like I know them. I’m ready to say their name but I can’t talk. I wake up and by the time I try to recall the images I can’t remember them.”

“Do you think your memories are trying to come back?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Ric shrugged.

“But…you don’t want them to come back, do you?”

It felt silly getting so worked up over something like lost memories resurfacing. Ric should be happy that parts of his lost past was trying to get through to him. He should be relieved that the 15 years of lost memories were finally starting to return, but he wasn’t happy or relieved. He was worried.

“What happens to me when I start remembering everything? Will I still be Ric when Dick’s memories come flooding back filling in the gaps? What if I don’t like the things I start to remember? What then?”

Jason turned in his stool to face Ric. “No matter what, you’ll still be Ric. You’ll still be the guy with the busted cab I had to push out of traffic. You’ll still be the guy that kicks my ass playing pool. You’ll still be the guy who insists on buying the first round and listening to all my bullshit. You’ll still be you, just with new memories.

“No matter what happens you are not obligated to go back to your old life or live your life by your old memories. You don’t owe those assholes in Gotham anything.”

Ric nodded allowing Jason’s words to sink in.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” Jason clapped a hand on Ric’s shoulder. “Next round is on me.”

The anxiety slowly started to ebb away as Ric watched his friend leave their high top table and make his way to the bar to get another round of beers.

Ric couldn’t stop the new memories from coming. They were coming whether he wanted them to or not. And when they did come he was glad to have found such a great friend in Jason. The man was right, no matter what happened, he was not obligated to go back to his old life or live his life by his old memories.

Part 2: Somebody That I Used to Know

#Ric Grayson #Jason Todd #Batman #batfic #batbros #batbros bonding #Ric Grayson needs a hug #Protective Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #batfamily #Ric's not that bad once you get to know him #my fics

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lucisfavoritedemon · 4 years ago

Text

Crossed Oceans of Time

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Y/n always thought her hope was lost till an unexpected call from an old friend has her traveling across time to save the man she thought was once lost in an ocean of time.

Warnings: angst, fluffy fluff, cursing, hopelessness (idk why I make the reader so depressed)

Word Count: 4122

A/N: This is written for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k Challenge. The prompt I chose was “I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” -Dracula. This story takes place during the events of End Game. I have incorporated the quote into the story. It will be bolded AND italicized. All mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

Everything I had seen had been a blur up to this point. My life flashed by so quick I never had a chance to process it all. Originally born in 1922, I never believed I would be able to see the day when technology would thrive. Here I am in 2023, 101 years later seeing the miracle of technology.

I am a super soldier. One of the first experiments before Steve Rogers, aka Captain America. I volunteered myself to Dr. Erskine's experimentation, so he could develop a better, more safe serum.

I fought by Rogers' side in many battles, including the one that would take his best friend. There is something you do not know though, of me and Sergeant Barnes.

I had fallen for him. Not just a usual school girl crush, no. It was full blown love. Like my body had been struck by lightning the moment I laid eyes on him.

I could sit and talk for hours about Bucky, and how much he meant to me, but that would be pointless. Bucky was gone and yet I couldn't move on. Something was keeping my heart from finding love again.

Steve and I fought one last time together to defeat Red Skull. We thought it was the end for us, that we would be with Bucky again, but fate is a cruel mother thing. Oddly enough, the serum in our veins stopped our bodies from dying. It preserved us and helped us stay alive.

When I woke up, all I remembered was crashing the ship. I had no recollection of anything else after. That's when we found out we were in the year 2012. For 70 years we were on ice. Poor Steve was heartbroken about Peggy, and I couldn't help but wish I was with Bucky.

Time flew by like it was nothing, and all I felt I did was stand still and watch it go by. Steve and I had parted ways after we got back. I was hired to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. which I didn’t mind till in 2014 it all came crashing down. Almost quite literally. S.H.I.E.L.D. had HYDRA growing right under its nose. I was again left alone with nothing but a shattered heart.

Nick Fury tried to help me get back onto my feet but I wanted nothing to do with him, or anyone anymore. I was too heartbroken to even think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I really just wanted my Bucky back. That’s all I could ever ask of the world.

Five years ago, something happened. I felt like my life had fallen apart again. All the friends I had attempted to make, all disappeared. I wasn’t the only one who lost people they loved and cared for. I finally felt maybe other people out there were feeling the same way I did.

Here in 2023, I have been without the love of my life for almost 80 years. I kept asking why I got to live while he was taken from the world so soon. I never got the answer to that rhetorical question, asked to no one in particular. That was till I got a peculiar call from an unknown number. I answered it hoping it would be the reaper I hoped to be greeted by to take me to the love of my life.

“Y/n?” It was a voice I hadn’t heard in almost a decade. One I thought I’d probably never hear again either.

“Steve.” I sounded cheery for once since I had been out of the ice.

“Hey. How are you doing? I know it’s been years since we talked, but I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive? Just you and me.” He asked, and I could tell he was smiling some on the other end.

“That sounds lovely, Steve. I’ve been hanging in there. Since S.H.I.E.L.D. and the whole HYDRA thing, I’ve just been laying low.”

“Where are you living now?” Steve queried.

“I’m living in Brooklyn actually. In my old neighborhood.

“You used to live in Brooklyn before the war?”

“Yep. I actually lived above the antique shop. You know the one.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know we lived so close, yet we never met you till Erskine introduced us.”

“Yeah. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the way I do now…” I sounded melancholy.

“I’m not too far from where you are. Meet where the antique shop used to be. We can talk more then, I have something I think you would love to hear.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there.” I said, and hung up quickly. I knew there was nothing he could have told me that would make me jump for joy. He couldn’t say anything that would make my smile come back. It was gone, and faded with time.

I met him where that antique shop used to be, and I could almost picture it all. The cobblestone streets, the kids playing baseball, the world used to be a different place back then. It’s not like it was anymore, and I wish that it kind of was.

“Hey.” Steve smiled, walking up to me.

“Hi.” I gave a small smile, but he could tell I had sadness written all over my face.

“What’s wrong?” Concern spread across his face.

“Nothing. This is just how I smile now.”

“Whoever took away your beautiful, contagious smile is going to pay.”

“Time took my smile away.”

“”Come on. I want to talk to you about something.” His smile grew wider as he led me to his car.

He opened the door for me, and I climbed in. I buckled up as he climbed into the driver’s seat. We headed out of the city, down the countryside. The scenery was beautiful, but I still couldn’t bring myself to start a conversation.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I have been for 11 years. What’s 40 more gonna do right?” I gave an extremely sad smile.

“Is this about Bucky?”

“There were so many times in my life where we could have met. Maybe just a year longer with him, and I would be able to move on, or maybe not. I was in love with him, Steve. The way I felt the night we first met, it was like everything in my life finally made sense. I felt like I had a purpose.”

“He’s actually the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was alive. I need your help getting him back.”

“What do you mean? That’s impossible. We both watched him die.”

“Remember when all those men were captured from the 107th, including Bucky, back in ‘43?”

“Yeah, and we went to rescue them.”

“Bucky was experimented on by Armin Zola. Turned into a super soldier himself.”

“Okay and?”

“Whatever Zola did to him, it helped him survive the fall.”

“So what I’m understanding is, you knew he was alive this entire time, and you’re just now telling me about it?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I need your help getting him back now.”

“Okay. You keep saying that, but if he is alive, why would we need to get him back?”

“Remember 5 years ago when half the earth’s population just vanished?”

“Yeah?”

“Bucky was part of that half.”

“And you think we can get him back?”

“I think we can bring back all the life lost 5 years ago. It requires us going back in time though.”

“Time travel? You’re promising time travel in a time where we thought flying cars were going to be a thing.”

“It’s possible though. We’ve tested it, and everything is up and working. We have all the dates in order, we just need the man power.”

“Alright, if it means bringing Bucky back, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

Steve drove us to a huge building practically in the middle of nowhere. There I was greeted by a group of people, one of which I recognized from a brief meeting years ago. The others I didn’t know. I mean one man looked oddly familiar, but I could quite put my finger on where I had seen him before.

“Everyone, this is Y/n. She is an old friend of mine.” Steve introduced me.

“I may be old, but I sure don’t feel like it.”

“Join the club.” Steve chuckled.

“I’m Natasha. We met briefly in D.C. a few years back.” The woman I had recognized approached.

“Yes, I remember you. It’s nice to officially meet you on slightly good terms. While not being utterly terrified by a man with a metal arm.” I smiled slightly, trying to imagine how it would feel to see Bucky once more.

“So how do you two know each other?” The man that I swore looked familiar, spoke up.

“Steve and I fought together during the war.”

“Does that mean she also knew Barnes?” The man questioned.

“Yes. She did. In fact they were together for two years before HYDRA took him.”

“How does he know about Bucky?” I asked, growing concerned.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m Tony Stark by the way.” The man spoke up, and everything was now coming together.

“I knew you looked familiar to me somehow. You look just like your father.”

“Yeah, well, join the club with everyone who says that.” Tony sounded irritated.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Y/n, it’s alright.” Steve spoke up before Tony could say anything.

He could probably tell I was freaking out. My goal was to help, not make things worse. I could tell by just opening my mouth, I was doing just that. Steve started to rub my back to calm me down.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha asked.

“She’s been through a lot. She didn’t even know Bucky was alive until a couple hours ago.” Steve replied.

“For so long I wished that something would happen so I could be back in his arms again. Now, I have a chance to see him again, and not in the afterlife. He is the man of my dreams, the love of my life. I have never felt this way about anyone before, and the fact that I have tried to move on, but couldn't just shows that I truly did love him.”

“Does she know about him?” Tony asked.

“Not about that. She doesn’t need to know.” Steve stated sternly.

“Know about what? Steve? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Stark, I agree with Steve. If she knew about him, her opinion of him may change.” Natasha interjected.

“She deserves to know the man she loved then will not be the man she is getting back.”

“What are you all going on about?”

“Barnes was the man with the metal arm you spoke of.” Tony blurted out.

“You’re wrong. Bucky would never hurt anyone. He was someone who put others before himself. He would never kill anyone.”

Steve just gave an angry look to Tony. I didn’t know who to believe. Natasha just gave me an apologetic look. I couldn’t read anyone, they all seemed to look angry or apologetic, and I didn;t know who to believe.

“Maybe the Barnes you knew wouldn’t, but over 70+ years, people change.” Tony stated before walking inside.

“Steve? Was Bucky really the man with the metal arm? If he was, I want to know. It won’t change how I feel. I just need to know, so I can help him when he comes back.”

“Yes. He was what the world knew as the Winter Soldier. He isn;t like that anymore. I promise, but he is broken and traumatized from what HYDRA did to him.”

“Understandable. Now let’s go get him and everyone else back.” I smiled, and walked inside. I didn’t have to fake one anymore. I was just happy that I finally had the chance to see Bucky again. That maybe seeing each other again could mend our souls a little bit.

Steve led me to a room where he told me to suit up. I threw on the suit laid out for me, and met the others on the main level. Steve handed me two little vials which he told me would help take me where I needed to be. He told me I was to stay with him to make sure nothing happened to me. I was perfectly okay with that.

We were all ready to find these stones. Steve showed me a picture of the stones him, Tony, Scott, and I were to be getting. I just wanted to get this over with, to be with Bucky once more. I have waited a long time for this moment, and I just couldn’t wait any longer.

“Everyone ready?” Bruce asked.

“See you guys in a minute.” Natasha smiled.

We all shrunk down, and our groups went separate ways. I made sure to not lose sight of Steve as we landed in our desired time. We all started walking the tattered streets of New York City, and I knew where we had landed.

“Banner, you find the time stone, Stark and Lang, you two get the tesseract. I’ll get the scepter.” Steve directed.

“What about me?” I asked, curious what my task would be.

“You are staying right here. We’ll all meet right back here once we have secured our items.”

“Why am I here then if you don’t need me?”

“In case things go south.”

I roll my eyes, “fine. I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.”

They all walk off, and I stay put where they told me to. I listen to them talking on comms to each other. They were pretty entertaining if I was being honest. That was until they started saying they lost the tesseract. Things looked hopeless now.

“What are we gonna do now? The tesseract is gone, and we don’t have any more of the capsules.” Scott paced.

“I have an extra capsule that will get me where I want to be. Please let me do this Steve?”

“Fine. I think I have an idea where you might be going. Just be careful okay?” He hands me something, “put it in here when you grab it.”

“I will. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll see you guys when I have aquired the tesseract.” I smile.

I plug in the time and date that I wanted, and shrunk down traveling back to January 1945. The day Steve and I put the plane in the water. I remember seeing Red Skull holding it that day, right before he disappeared actually. Maybe that’s what Steve meant by ‘be careful’.

I headed straight to the hanger, and climbed inside. I hid until I knew it was safe to come out. Which meant waiting till Red Skull took off. I waited for Steve, and I to start fighting Red Skull. I came out and prepared to grab the tesseract. I had the special case Steve handed me before I left.

When Red Skull disappeared, and Steve and I went to man the ship, I grabbed the tesseract. I plugged in the date to head back, and shrunk down again, heading back to the correct timeline. I arrived as everyone else returned as well. I looked around to make sure everyone was there, but one person was missing.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asked, looking at Clint.

“Barton, where is she?” Tony asked, being more stern.

“She’s gone...it should have been me.” He sounded so sad. I felt for him. I knew how it felt to lose someone I cared so much about.

They all gathered by the water mourning Natasha’s sacrifice. I let them have their moment. It wasn’t my place to be with them while they grieved. It just didn’t seem right, or fair to them. I sat in the lab waiting for them to come back, and assemble the gauntlet.

Steve walked in and sat next to me, “how did it go?”

“It went well. It was weird seeing Red Skull and you, and me. I think I managed well though. Why did you give me an extra capsule?”

“I figured you would go and help us, then I’d let you go and be with Bucky. Get the time you lost back.”

“That makes no sense if I lose him in the end anyways.”

“Maybe part of me hoped you would change his fate. That way you never lost him. You would never have to know what it was like to lose him.”

“That’s really sweet of you Steve, but I don’t think that would be right. For me or him.”

“I understand. I just want you to know that your pain hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“I’m glad it hasn’t, but I really wish you knew how much I needed you too. I didn’t just miss Bucky, you were my friend too.”

“I know, but you haven’t been the same since you thought he died. You have been more closed off, you don’t smile, or laugh like you used to. I just want you to be happy again. I want to see that beautiful smile, and hear your contagious laugh once more.”

“You will again one day. Right now though, you need to help the others make this gauntlet.” I gave a half smile before moving out of the way so the others could do their job.

I sat outside with my eyes closed. Just waiting for someone to walk up to me and make sure I was okay. The light from the sun was dimmed like a shadow moved in front of me. I smiled before opening my eyes, thinking that Steve, or maybe Bucky, was standing in front of me. When I looked, I saw something that looked like a meteor heading right for the building.

I tried to run inside, but it was too late. The ball, or cannon, or whatever had already hit the building. I wiggle my way out from under the debris, but I could tell I had a pretty severe wound on my abdomen. I tried to call out to someone, but I got no response. I hoped that everyone was alright.

I finally was able to stand up, and walked outside. There I saw Thor standing, and watching someone. I walked over to him, putting pressure on my side to make sure I stopped the bleeding. That’s when I saw Steve walking up to him too.

“What’s he doing?” Steve asked, looking where Thor was looking.

“He’s just sitting there.” Thor responded. “He doesn’t have the gauntlet right?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” Steve said, walking over to me.

“Who is that guy?” I asked, looking confused.

“That’s Thanos. He’s the reason half the earth’s population disappeared 5 years ago.”

“Did he figure out what we were planning?”

“It’s not the same Thanos. The one from our time, Thor killed him.” Steve said, walking over to him.

“I used to think that destroying half the planet's life would be good enough, but the other half that stuck around seems to be ungrateful. Looks like I may have to destroy this world, and create a new one, one that will be grateful for the world I have provided.”

That’s when Thor charged at Thanos, and the fight began. Tried to fight as much as I could, but I was losing more and more blood every second. I ran at him, thinking he was going to hurt Steve, but he stopped me and threw me against some rubble. I attempted to get up, but the pain was too much to fight anymore.

I watched as Steve prepared to fight by himself. I wish I had the strength to stand up and fight next to him. I just couldn’t bear the pain anymore. That’s when I heard a voice over comms that sounded kind of familiar.

“Cap, can you read me. On your left.” The voice said, and these vortex-like things opened up, and out walked three people.

Steve turned to me, and saw that I was on the ground. He reached his hand out to me, and I took it, standing up. He smiled at me, and prepared to fight. That’s when armies of people walked through these vortexes. I stayed close to Steve, finding comfort in the one person I knew fairly well.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’ll be okay. I just want this douchebag dead. He took Bucky away, and now he wants to destroy the entirety of planet earth. He deserves what’s coming to him.”

Steve smiled, “you really haven’t changed a bit. More depressed than what I remember, but your attitude is still the same.” He chuckled lightly.

I giggled, and prepared to fight to the end. I didn’t care if I died, I just wanted Steve and Bucky to live. Steve stood at the front of the army he was leading, perhaps into our last battle. I was ready to do anything. I had found my hidden strength to keep fighting till I physically couldn’t keep fighting anymore. That was quicker to come than I thought. I knew I was losing a lot of blood, but I didn’t know how quickly. Turns out when Thanos threw makeup against the rubble, I created an even bigger wound.

Only a few minutes into the now fair fight, I started to get really dizzy. I tried to grab a hold of someone before I fell, but there was no one around me. I hit the ground and I was out for the count.

~*~

I don’t know how long I had been out for, or if I was still even alive. To my surprise, and Steve’s happiness, I was.

“Hey there sweetheart.” Steve smiled, gripping my hand tightly.

“Did we win?” Of course that would be my first question. It was the first question I asked when we came out of the ice.

He chuckled, but his look turned sad, “we won, but we lost at the same time.”

“What do you mean? Did he snap them away again?” My heart was pounding in my chest. The fear painted across my face.

“No. Everyone who disappeared is back, but Tony...he snapped Thanos and his army away, but he didn’t make it.” Steve gave me an extremely sad look.

I squeezed his hand, not even paying attention to the fact someone had just walked into the room. I didn’t even notice the person till Steve looked over to them, and got up. I couldn’t quite tell who it was because where they were standing was kind of dark. That and my eyes were fully adjusted yet, but I could tell they were tall and well built, they also had semi-long hair.

“Go on. She’s been waiting.” Steve spoke up, seeing me stare at them.

The person came closer, and I was met with their mesmerizing blue eyes. I smiled at them as they came over to sit down. He seemed closed off, or just really shy. I couldn’t quite get a read on him for whatever reason.

“Hey.” He gave a very small smile, almost shy.

“Hey.” I smile more.

“I’ve missed that smile.” Steve spoke up.

I giggled, “well it’s thanks to you that I feel like I can be happy again.”

The man sitting next to me just looked down. I put my hand out for him to take. He grabbed it very gently. It was colder than I thought it would be. I looked down, and saw a metal hand. He tried to pull away, but I gripped his hand tight.

“You’re not scared?” He asked.

“Because I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” I smile wide, bringing his hand to my lips, kissing it gently.

Steve smiled, “you knew it was him the whole time didn’t you?”

“Of course. Those eyes are unforgettable, and his voice is unmistakable.” I felt the hand around mine tighten, and his smile got bigger.

“I’ve missed you doll. I’ve missed you so much.” Bucky spoke.

“I missed you too. I never thought that I would ever see you again.”

We stared lovingly at each other for a while. Enjoying just taking in the fact that he was back into my life. That I had him back. That the best thing that ever happened to me was back. It was the best feeling in the world, one that I thought I would never be able to feel again. I finally felt like my heart had been put back together, and Bucky held the mold in his hands.

#quotemeonit6kchallenge #bucky x reader #steve x platonic!reader #avengers: endgame #The Avengers

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Note

So I see your a LeviHan shipper!! I enjoy the ship a lot too!! But are there any specific reason that their your favorite?? Maybe you could explain that a little through a list? But anyways I hope your week has been good so far, Sav. Have a good day/night!!!! - Signed by Your Secret Santa 🎄

Hello! Thank you for asking about my week (and my ship).

I enjoy the ship a lot too!! But are there any specific reason that their your favorite?

To answer that first question...

You’re in for a long rollercoaster ride of a rant because I don’t think I’m the type of person to ship anything to the point of writing domestic fluff fics unless the I felt really really drawn to the ship.

Anyway, (slight) spoilers abound! Will keep manga spoilers subtle, mostly Levihan scenes.

Disclaimer: I do not want to start shipping wars. I specifically avoided the words like should or best because I recognize that shipping is generally based on preferences. I respect everyone’s preferences on what they want out of a ship or even a relationship and through this, I just hope to express my own preferences and maybe even gush with people who agree.

1. The ship did not move the plot. The plot moved the ship.

Attack on Titan is not a romance or a shojo, if it’s not fairly obvious from any chapter you would randomly read. As a reader, I would have expected it to fall short with pairings. Most shows which are not romance based tend to have a few pairings which just suddenly end up together towards the end of the manga because “What’s a happy ending without marriage and kids?” There is usually a trend of just pairing of the extras and sometimes, or maybe even more often than not, it just seems to come out of nowhere (ehem... Naruto.). Maybe the relationship worked off screen but I dunno. Like no shipping war here but the only pairing I had full support for was Shikatema.

In stories classified as romances, there is enough of a spotlight on the sexual tension and mutual pining of specific characters for the romance to be considered reasonable. In my opinion, some authors tend to sacrifice really good world building for a good romance. Objectively twilight for example had some crazy good world building but it just kinda focused a little too much on emo Bella and emo Edward for the world building to actually be appreciated by the casual reader. Tbh though, this is not necessarily bad because people get into stuff for reasons, sometimes, I just wanna read a good fantasy, sometimes I just wanna read a good romance.

Romances though as a main driving point for narratives, require some convenient serendipity moments and sexual tension which can be written well but as a reader, I prefer to see more natural relationships born out of necessity (Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata is a good example of what I’m talking about in a romance novel.)

Attack on Titan through its narrative actually made Levihan seem VERY VERY possible. If I had to compare the presentation of this ship in canon to at least one relationship in other anime, I would compare it to Royai from FMA.

Like, if Attack on Titan didn’t give us random subtle hints about romantic or just platonic relationships between the two or even about anyone, even if Levi and Hange did get together in the end, it would have been one of the pairings, I probably wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow at.

But they could be just friends? Which brings me to my next point.

2. Their current situation makes it so it’s only natural that at the least, they considered it.

Yes. Friends is a valid interpretation for anything. I mean, given our hook up culture, people can fuck as friends too. People probably have made out drunk as friends too. Like I have seen my fair share of this type of bullshit in high school and college and I would say, we do not need a kiss or a fucking session to recognize that something can be a good relationship or to recognize that they have probably thought about it.

A relationship requires a commitment (conscious or unconscious) to caring for the other, keeping the other safe, recognizing their flaws and thinking about them regularly (Call me scott peck or marriage counselor but like I honestly think the world would be a better place once people recognize that quality romantic relationships are worked for).

Mind you, Levi and Hange lost everything.They literally lost everything from their old life, all their friends, all their loved ones and all they have is each other and they’re forced to take care of a bunch of kids.

There are people who have said before, no one gets very close with someone without ever considering a romantic relationship with them. Or even if they never considered it romantic, they could consider at least “living with them their whole life,” or “supporting them through thick and thin.” The things is, towards the end, they were constantly together and what drove them to that situation is that both of them are aware of what the other had lost. They understood each other more than anyone else and they recognized that they were the only ones left in their own circle and I personally think that is more than enough for a relationship to naturally bloom between them.

3. The relationship and the signs are subtle and it works.

I personally probably would not have enjoyed it if canon showed a romantic relationship of the two after Erwin died. It’s a valid interpretation to consider that it could have happened, based on my explanation for number 2 but Hange is commander, Levi is captain. They have a professional relationship and they have goals and obligations which take precedence over personal desires. They are in the middle of a war and the most which probably could have happened was a secret mutual pining between the two and I think Isayama has injected the most subtle hints which are the most that could have been appropriately put into canon without seeming too OOC. Hange and Levi are not selfish people. They have promises, dreams and obligations which they respect and have committed themselves to already. It has also been shown at earlier points of the manga that they do put their survey corps duties on top of everything so acting on a romantic attraction at that point in time would have definitely been inappropriate.

I personally think, the scenes of Hange going out of her way to save Levi as commander, killing her other soldiers to save both their asses, suggesting in the forest that they live together instead of go back to the war and not leaving an injured Levi until she had no choice were more powerful than a lot of romantic scenes where people actually fuck and kiss. Kissing and fucking are easy. Leaving the duties and responsibilities they have worked for for five years to keep the person they love alive hits way harder.

Call it platonic. Call it romantic. But no one like Hange would have deserted her post as commander for a few chapters to take care of a sick comrade and kill her subordinates to save their asses if there wasn’t anything between them.

4. It gives a great example what healthy relationships can come from.

I grew up reading sweet valley and chick lits cause I was a basic bitch and I kinda grew up with a somehow unrealistic idea of where relationships come from. Call me a late bloomer but I only actually figured out where the romance and the happiness of a relationship was when I got into one with my best friend for five years.

It’s the sexual tension and the “will they wont they?” push and pull which can lead to satisfying sex or a happy ending in romance novels. I think in a way, media kinda overglorifies it which kinda gives a lot of young people the wrong idea about why they getting into a relationship is fun in the first place. Because after the satisfying sex and the kids, what’s next for the relationship?

Years of utility bills, diapers, chores, schedules, parent teacher conferences and compromises until someone gives up or dies. And what kind of relationships can actually thrive through all these?

Those that have mastered the underrated parts of relationships. These include conflict resolutions, compromises and open communication. I think we have seen enough of those two, even before season 3 that have shown that they know each other very well and they have shown to at least have a relatively equal power dynamic which is a foundation for open communication and mutual trust in relationships even beyond the fucking and marriage stage

5. They have a great foundation of character development for both parties.

As I mentioned above, they have a relatively equal power dynamic. I love Royai from FMA and I have compared Royai to this multiple times. I would say though I prefer Levihan over Royai because I felt that Royai had more unequal power dynamics? (Though I still think Royai is a top tier ship ). Also, they have shown to tell off the other when they don’t like what the other is doing. They are complete opposites but here is the magical thing. They talk everything out. They’re generally open people to each other and they know each other way too well as hinted in scenes before and opposites work as long as the others are willing to compromise. I think (especially in season 3 and season 4) that they have done enough for each other and have compromised enough for each other in the survey corps that these skills could easily be brought with them even after the war.

That open communication is just what makes them maintaining a relationship while being complete opposites very OC and realistic. Eventually, they did probably did make compromises, which most likely softened or moderated the crazy parts of their personalities which is just a really fun part of their relationship to explore.

6. It could realistically last so maybe ...

7. A good foundation for happy children?

Maybe it’s how it is written because of the actual story and why would Yams write a romantic drama in a story about genocide and war. Tbh, I would attribute it more to Levi and Hange’s personalities though because Mikasa and Eren have their fair share of drama, mostly one sided though coz Mikasa. This relationship has no drama, no misunderstandings which just further supports my point that they have a relationship that thrives on open communication and mutual trust. Drama is fun like when we’re the ones on the sidelines eating the popcorn but I have third wheeled enough people in my life to realize that I will not support a relationship where both parties are just not ready to be mature about it, in real life and in fiction.

My favorite couples, in real life and in fiction, are definitely those who keep conflict among themselves and maybe among trusted people. I think one sign of a healthy relationship is one where problems don’t become public through social media or through like 20 people. One important yet underrated part of relationships is the atmosphere of comfort and freedom which encourages both parties to be able to directly approach one another before tensions and uncertainties get out of hand.

And a life free of dramas at least in the early stages of life just kinda shows at least that both parties are ready to bring a new life to the world? Because like immature parents with shitty conflict resolution skills really fuck kids up man and I passionately believe the world would really be a better place if babies were born out of trust, mutual understanding and open communication instead of sex but yeah, make sex fun to keep our race alive.

So anyway, I guess, I just finished explaining why I love this ship so much while also disclosing my preferences for relationships.

As mentioned above...

Other pairings which I support for those curious: Shikatema, Royai, Victuuri, Percabeth etc.

Also... To answer your second question...

My week has been great, some pretty solid life developments but US elections wise, not so great... (WHY IS THE ELECTION RACE SO CLOSE?)

#levihan #levi x hange #levi x hanji #levi ackerman #hange zoe #ship #analysis

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jaesqueso · 3 years ago

Text

The Bachelorette: NCT edition - Ep. 5

The season of love is finally here! An interactive series where you’ll get to choose who goes home each week and ultimately who Y/N chooses in the end!

pairing: nct(ot23) x fem!reader

summary: A week to relax clear things out, but it turns out to be one of the most stressful weeks with big decisions

episode guide

word count: 6,451

warnings: mentions of alcohol (all responsible!)

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Last week on the Bachelorette:

Y/N challenges the 23 men that decided to join this experience and fight for her heart.

As bachelors are sent home week by week the decisions become harder and harder and a single moment can decide each men’s fate.

9 guys remain on the game to win the bachelorette’s heart, but tonight only 7 will remain.

Who will she choose? Who will she reject?

Find out on the Bachelorette!

“Hi all!” Chris Harrison walks into the living room of the guest house and the boys excitedly gather around. “Glad to see you all excited because it’s time we change things up!”

The bachelors look at each other wondering what will be changing and if that can possibility affect their chances with you.

“This week we’ll still have a group date but only 1 one-on-one date.”

The guys widen their eyes, this will decrease their chances of getting that desired alone time with you.

“But don’t worry, there will be a new type of date, a two-on-one date! This means two of you will be going on the date with Y/N.”

Faces brighten up, this actually gives them more chances to spend more time with you.

“But there’s a downside to this date. Only one of the two people will receive a rose and that means the other person will automatically be sent home.”

Right now the men seem really worried, whoever goes on that date will have a face off with the other guy because either they win or they lose, no safes.

“This being said I wish you all luck and I’ll see you in the rose ceremony!”

Chris leaves and the siren is heard, not giving anyone time to take in this new information.

All this decision making week by week is leaving me a bit stressed and I could use some time off.

The guys are confused, what do you mean time off?

I hope you’re in the mood for some relaxing Jaehyun. Don’t bother bringing a lot of clothing!

The guy chuckles at the last sentence.

“Nice one bro!” Johnny shakes Jaehyun’s shoulders as the latter silently thanks him.

“This means you’re safe from that two-on-one date.” Taeyong points out.

“Not that I would mind some competition.” Jaehyun glares but the laughs. “But I’ve been wanting on this date for too long.”

“Same!” Taeyong and Johnny say at the same time and laugh.

“It could be the two of you facing each other though…” Jaehyun teases.

Their laughs quickly come to an end as they look at each other. They sure hope it’s not them.

The next day Jaehyun gets ready and gets on his ride, excited to met you and see what’s in store for the two of you today. The car comes to a stop in from of a spa and he’s pleasantly surprised however looking around he’s confused because you’re nowhere to be seen. He decides to go in and look for you inside but he still can’t find you. That’s when a lady from the spa hands him a letter.

Get (un)dressed and come find me.

Y/N

He smiles at your mysteriousness and heads to the locker rooms. He takes off his clothes down to his swimwear, wraps his body in the robe provided and puts on a pair of flip flops. He starts walking around looking for you and stops by the pool area.

Your eyes meet and a smile grows on your face. He watches you swim to the nearest border to where he’s standing and then push yourself outside. To his eyes everything happened in slow motion and he almost had to pull his jaw back up when you walked to him all wet wearing only a bikini.

“Glad you found me.” You smile as you put your robe on.

“I was starting to think you ditched me.” Jaehyun pouts.

“How could I ever?” You wink and he chuckles. “Are you ready to relax?”

“By your side? Always.”

“Good because I signed us up for a couple’s massage.”

“Sounds great to me.”

You take his hand and lead him to the massage room. There are two massage tables and you both take off the robes and settle in each one, stomach down. Right after the masseuses get in and greet you.

They pick up some oils, taking some on their hands and then proceed to massage your backs. You hum in satisfaction and turn your face to look at Jaehyun who’s already looking at you. You bite your lip to hold in any embarrassing sounds as the masseuse touches all the tension places getting rid of all your stress, you really needed this and he seems to enjoy it too judging by the pleased look on his face.

The masseuses then move to the legs and combined with the soothing music in the background and the tranquillising smell in the air you feel like you’re in cloud nine. Jaehyun lets out a low moan when the pair of hands massage his tights and you can’t help grin as your mind drifts off. He mouths an apology and chuckles but you just lightly shake your head letting him know it’s ok.

You turn your bodies around for the second part of the massage and you can’t help let your eyes travel through the lines of his body. Gulping you look back up and he’s smirking at you. Embarrassed of getting caught you turn your head to the ceiling and close your eyes letting out a happy sigh and enjoy the rest of the massage.

Once it’s done, you two thank the masseuses and put your robes back on. You leave the room and walk to a lounge area where a table with some light food and natural juices awaits you.

“Did you like it?” You ask as you two sit down.

“That was amazing.” Jaehyun smiles taking a sip of his juice. “Sorry I got a little carried away.”

“Don’t worry about that.” You fight a giggle as you recall his moan. “I was just glad you were enjoying it.”

“I would’ve enjoyed it more if we were massaging each other.” He gives you a suggestive look and you bite your lip.

“Maybe next time if you’re lucky.” You wink and he sticks his tongue on the inside of his cheek, clearly pleased with the way you’re able to flirt back with him so easily.

In the guest house nervousness fills the air.

“Who do you think will be in the double date?” Haechan asks.

“It could literally be anyone…” Jaemin states.

“Hopefully not you because whoever the other person is, they’re going home!” Jeno laughs.

“Why don’t know that.” Jaemin laughs too.

“That’s true though!” Haechan points to Jaemin. “She’d definitely choose you over someone else, you two definitely have something going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jaemin scratches the back of his head. “I’m at the same level as you guys.”

“You’re definitely not, she’s really into you.” Jeno comments.

“I bet you even kissed her already!” Haechan glares at him for not saying anything.

“We definitely did not kiss, I promise.” Jaemin throws his hands in the air.

“I wonder if she has kissed anyone though…” Haechan wonders.

Jeno clears his throat before these questions turn to him not wanting to admit he has kissed you already. Twice in fact.

“What do you think Renjun?” He addresses the boy who always has an opinion but has yet to say a word.

“What?” He gets out of his trance and looks at the others.

“Who do you think will be on the double date?” Jeno repeats the question Haechan did a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling about it…” Renjun sighs and the other guys look amongst each other before turning their attention to Hendery who was sitting alone possibly lost in the same thoughts.

The awaited siren is heard and everybody gathers around the living room.

It’s a-boat time I take you guys on a trip no?

The guys are intrigued to know if that was a typo or a clue.

Unfortunately I can’t take you all with me so if you don’t see your name in the screen I’ll meet you in the next date!

Everybody takes a deep breath as the names start to come up on the screen. For the first time they’re all wishing to be chosen for the group date.

See you tomorrow!

Renjun and Hendery exchange a look before dropping their gaze to the ground. The others tense up but are also relieved that the fight between the two will finally come to an end with one of them leaving. At the same time they’re worried about you as this date could go terribly wrong.

After talking for a while you decide to move the conversation with Jaehyun to the hot tub that’s in a private area of the spa. You strip down your robes again and get into the warm water. You sit next to each other as the bachelor doesn’t want to spend any time away from you.

“Thank you for choosing me for this date.” He smiles.

“What can I say? I felt like pampering you a little bit.” You smirk.

“Shouldn’t I be the one pampering you?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“We can pamper each other, how about that?”

“I’m okay with that.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer.

If it wasn’t for the warm water around your bodies you’d be embarrassed of the way your body temperature increased as your almost naked bodies touch.

The conversation keeps its usual teasing tone and before things get even more heated with his eyes piercing through your soul, his face coming closer and closer and he forgets you’re actually in a public place you decide to make a suggestion.

“You know what, how about I give you that massage?” He looks at you in surprise and yet licks his lips. “Just a shoulder one, don’t get all excited.”

Jaehyun chuckles as you turn him around on the hot tub. He lets his arms rest on the borders as you settle behind him placing your hands on his shoulders. Your grasp is soft because you don’t want to hurt him but your thumbs pressed on his muscles. His skin is so smooth, but before your mind starts to drift off again he lets out a groan that startles you for a bit.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You stop massaging him but keep your hands on his shoulders.

“No no, on the contrary.” He quickly answers. “It feels too good.”

“Maybe I should stop.” You chuckle.

“Oh, please don’t.” He turns his head to the side and places a kiss on your fingers.

All you want his to pull his face closer and put your lips on him but considering the lack of clothing the whole scenario just looks a little too sexual and you don’t want the wrong message to come across. Instead you push yourself back and get out of the tub.

“Come on.” You extend your hand to him. “We should go.”

“Why do we always have to leave at the best part?” He complains but still takes your hand.

You two go back into the locker rooms to get changed and head out for your ride together back to the mansion. Inside the vehicle you make the question he was dying to answer.

“Thank you for making me relax today, you definitely deserve this.” You show him the date rose. “Do you accept it?”

“I have no reasons not to.” He smiles brightly as you pin it to his shirt.

Before he has a chance to make a move on you the car stops and you two get out. You say your goodbyes and turn to go to each of your destinations. But after only two steps you turn back around.

“Hey Jaehyun!” You call out.

“Ye-” Before he can finish the word you grab his shirt and pull him in far a quick kiss.

You let out a giggle before finally heading to the mansion.

“Oh Y/N, you’re going to be the death of me.” He takes a hand to his chest, biting his lip and walks to the guest house.

The following day the guys get their ride to meet you leaving Jaehyun, Renjun and Hendery at eh guest house. They’re dropped off by the sea and walk along the pier until they see you. You’re wearing a nautical summer dress and some dark sunglasses.

“Hey you guys.” You greet them with a smile. “Ready to go sailing?”

You point to the boat on your right and they cheer with excitement. You all get into the boat and drift off into the sea. It’s a warm sunny day but it’s made better with the damp breeze coming from the waves.

The boat comes to a stop where you can only see the shore far far away. Johnny decides it’s the perfect time to make some cocktails so he gets behind the bar. You decide to join him, taking a seat on a stool as the other guys enjoy the sun.

“What can I get you, beautiful lady?” Johnny asks in his effortless charm.

“Why don’t surprise me, Mr bartender?” You challenge him with a grin.

“Pleasant surprise coming right up!” He winks and starts preparing you a drink.

You attentively follow the movements of his hands with the bottles and the mixer as he tells you all about his passion for cocktails and mixing drinks.

As much as you’re enjoying this hobby of his you can’t help but wonder if this is too much of a bachelor activity, not very family friendly, and you have to think that the objective of this is finding your forever person to build a family with. All your worries and doubts are thrown off the boat when he looks at you flashing his bright smile.

“Hope you like it.” He places your drink in front of you. “I mixed the flavours that remind me of you and a little bit of myself into it too. It should taste like us.”

He winks and you giggle before taking a sip. The explosion of flavours inside your mouth is intense and makes you widen your eyes. You never had a drink like this but from now on this is the only drink you want to have.

“I’ll take that as a good sign?” Johnny says in anticipation of your feedback.

“Johnny, I��m speechless. This is out of this world!” You lick your lips not wanting to waste a drop of it.

He pats himself on the back and you both laugh at is action. You keep talking about other interests as he seats in a stool next to you and you both sip on your cocktails.

“Hey, how about some food with that?” You turn to the side and see Taeyong waking in.

“That actually sounds pretty good.” You get up from the stool.

“I’ll just make a few more cocktails for the guys, you two have fun.” Johnny gets back on his temporary bartender position as you and Taeyong walk to a kitchen area.

You start cutting up some fruits as Taeyong prepares a cheese and crackers boar, something light and fresh for you all to enjoy in this warm day.

“Oh wow, you have to try these grapes!” You tell him as you eat one.

“Shoot me.” He parts his lips wide and you take a successful swing, the grape landing right inside his mouth.

“Yes!” You celebrate as he happily chews.

“Nice aim!” He congrats you. “Ok, my turn.”

He picks up another grape and you get ready to catch it like he did. When he trows it you lean back a bit and manage to get it in your mouth however you lose balance and start falling back. But like in a cliche scene from a drama Taeyong grabs one of your hands and the back of your neck, kneeling down next to you and preventing you from hitting the ground.

“Are you ok?” He worriedly asks.

You gulp with the proximity between the two of you, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

“I-I’m fine.” You stutter as he helps you up. “Thank you Taeyong.”

“You sure you’re alright?” He eyes you up and down.

“I’m alright, I promise.” You give him a reassuring smile and he smiles back accepting it.

You two finish setting up the food and you glance at him biting your lip. You sure could use someone in your life that takes good care of you as he does to everybody around him.

Once everything is ready you two go outside to meet the other guys that already put on some music and are dancing and having fun. You and Taeyong put down the food you prepared and join them.

A few minutes later your attention shifts to Yuta that is taking off his shirt and getting to the edge of the boat. He looks at you blowing you a kiss before he back flips into the ocean. Your jaw drops and you hurry to check on him. Looking down you see him coming up to the surface and flip his beautiful hair.

“Come on, join me!” He calls you swimming backwards to give you space.

“Isn’t the water too cold?” You giggle.

“It’s perfect, trust me!” Yuta motions for you to join him.

You think for a second before you mutter ‘screw it’ to yourself, after all this is supposed to be a time to relax and have fun so why not? You pull your dress off of you to reveal a tiny bikini that earns you whistles from the guys that are still on the boat. You chuckle before coming close to the border and take a dive.

When you raise to the surface you look around confused because Yuta is nowhere to be seen. Then something wraps around your waist making you squeal.

“Gotcha.” He whispers in your ear and you let out a relieved breath.

“You little…” You start saying while releasing yourself from his grip trowing water on his face.

“Oh game on!” He trows some water back at you initiating a friendly fight.

You two laugh and swim around like two kids on vacation. First in the amusement park and now here in the sea, you love how Yuta brings out the fun side of you and you are able to forget all your worries and focus only on him. You can just imagine what a fun dad he will be someday.

After a while you two decide to hop back on the boat. He helps you up and wraps a towel around you teasingly bringing you closer as he tries to dry you. You giggle at his smooth move.

In the guest house the atmosphere is tense.

Renjun and Hendery quietly sit down as they have since they realised one of them will be going home after their date.

Jaehyun on the other hand is over the moon having secured his rose for this week but it feels weird to share his excitement when the other two are gloomy like this, he doesn’t even know what to say to lighten the mood.

A siren is heard and Jaehyun thanks every lord, maybe this message will get them to at least start talking. He almost wishes they’ll fight!

The three bachelors gather around the TV.

Hey guys, I hope you are not feeling defeat already, there’s still time to show me you deserve to be here!

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows. If only you where here to see them.

Bring comfortable clothes and come prepared to align your body and soul.

Jaehyun looks between the boys trying to get a glimpse of a possible reaction but they give him nothing. He sighs and leaves the room.

Hendery and Renjun look at each other and curse under their breaths.

You see Jeno sunbathing alone and decide to join him to try to dry off your bikini.

“Can I offer you some company?” He opens his eyes to look up at you and a smile opens up on his face.

“I think I’ve been laying in the sun for too long, I’m seeing an angel.”

“Oh my god Jeno.” You laugh at his cheesy line and lay down next to him.

You two stay In a very comfortable silence until the boy decides to break it.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” You simply answer.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to answer.” He continues.

“Now you’re getting me nervous.” You lift up your torso slightly turning to face him. “What is it?”

“Well… Yesterday the guys were talking and they were wondering if you had kissed someone already…”

“And?” You chuckle. “Do you need me to answer that?”

“No.” He laughs lifting his torso to mimic your position. “I was just wondering if there’s more than what I know. I’m sorry, I don’t want to sound jealous, we’re all here for the same thing.”

“So you want to know,” you lean closer with a grin, “if you were my only kiss yet?”

“Only kiss!?” You two turn back hearing a third voice. “So you two already kissed?”

“Haechan were you eavesdropping?” You feel a little annoyed to have your alone time with Jeno interrupted.

“No, I was just passing.” He sounds so upset people back on the land could feel it. “But I guess it’s good to know.”

Haechan goes into the cabin and you look at Jeno unsure of what to do.

“Go talk to him.” He takes your hand giving it a kiss.

You nod apologetically and go after Haechan.

“Haechan wait!” You call him and grab his wrist once you catch onto him. “What the hell was that?”

“What? Am I not allowed to be jealous when we’re all out here trying our best and you just go around giving out kisses?”

“Hey! I won’t tolerate you speaking to me like that!” You start to get really upset.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He lowers his head. “It’s just that… You seem to have made your mind already.”

“Just because me and Jeno kissed, it doesn’t mean I’ve chosen him already.”

“This is just really frustrating, I don’t know what else to do…” He sounds defeated now.

“Well maybe don’t explode like that for the smallest things. I…” You sigh. “I need some time to think.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Haechan says but you’re already heading out of the cabin.

You walk to the other edge of the boat where nobody is at. You sit and hold up your knees not knowing what to do. You were definitely not expecting this reaction and you don’t want these men to have the wrong idea about you. This is exactly why you where so hesitant to kiss Jeno that day on the hill, but in the moment it felt right. You trusted that he wouldn’t go around and brag to the others and he didn’t but sooner or later everybody would find out, you just didn’t expect it to be like this, like you two were holding a dark secret.

You were too lost in your thoughts that didn’t even notice a presence sitting down next to you until you heard his voice.

“Are you okay?”

You look up at Jaemin, your eyes glistening from the tears that were forming that you didn’t want to let out. Instead of waiting for your reply he simply threw his arm around your shoulder pulling you into his chest where lately it felt like your safe place.

You stayed like that for a while admiring the view as the boat returned to the pier. You eventually initiated a conversation with him not wanting to talk about the reasons that got you upset. He didn’t ask either, respecting your choice. This is just one of the reasons you are drawn to him, he always respect your boundaries and never forces you to talk if you don’t feel ready for it, but once you do he’s there to listen.

As the shore comes closer and closer you decide to hand him the rose you had for this group date. You spent some good time with the other guys too but this last moment with Jaemin just warmed your heart and honestly today you just want to head back to the mansion because unfortunately this Haechan incident isn’t the only thing keeping your mind busy.

The next day Hendery and Renjun exit the guest house, minds set on making the best out of this date so they don’t loose their chances with you. The driver drops them off at a Yoga studio and they glance at each other, not really what they had in mind.

They enter the building and widen their eyes when they find you inside a room stretched out on a yoga mat. When you notice their presence you graciously get up to greet them.

“Hey you two! How are you doing?”

They seem speechless so you just chuckle and point to the yoga mats, one at each side of you.

“Things have been a little bit tense between you two and it’s affecting me and the other guys too so I thought today we could do something relaxing. Can you do this for me?”

A moment of silence follows as you anxiously wait for a reaction.

“Anything for you.” Renjun’s face softens up and he smiles taking a place next to you.

Hendery simply nods taking the spot on your other side.

The instructor comes in and greets the three of you as no one else will be joining this class. You all stretch before starting on the actual exercises.

You have taken a few yoga classes before but never surrounded by two guys that are interested in you. Now you really understand when they say this is a very sensual activity. You try to focus your attention on what the instructor is saying but you can’t help glancing over the guys when they stretch and their shirts go up a bit revealing their lower abdomen, or when they bend and their clothes shamelessly reveal the curve of their butts.

But you’re not the only one peeking. Their eyes also follow the lines of your body and the relaxed expressions on your face that make them gulp and look away before something else starts to show through their clothes.

You all clap and thank the instructor as the class comes to an end.

“Alright guys, do you feel more calm and relaxed?” You face the them.

They both nod in agreement and finally you see a genuine smile on their faces.

“Great! Should we go get something to eat?” You suggest.

“Please, I’m starving!” Renjun agrees.

“Yes, let’s go.” Hendery adds.

You go to the locker rooms to get changed and meet again in front of the studio. You take them to a nice restaurant downtown. You get settled and order some drink to start with.

The conversation goes surprisingly well considering the tension that still exists between the two of them. You notice that they’re making an effort not to ruin this date but you can’t help feel that more from one of them than the other.

As the night and the chat progresses you start to feel nervous for the decision you’ll have to make. In both you can see thing you like and things you don’t but you have to choose what matters the most to you and for the plans you have for the future.

Hendery is someone family driven which you really appreciate because you want to build a family too. He’s also very nice and funny from the little talks you had. But he let the competition get to his head and you can’t help feel that this bickering has shifted his focus from you on his head, and this is definitely taken its toll on him.

Renjun came up a little abruptly, sometimes not understanding the right time to do things and you have felt that certain moments seemed forced between you too. But on the other hand he’s one of the people who makes the most effort to have his time with you and to get to know you no matter what it takes. And unlike the other boy, he doesn’t let this stupid war get on his way.

As you finish the meal you think this is the best time to announce your decision.

“As you know I only have one rose to hand out tonight and that means however doesn’t receive it will be going home.”

They gulp as you take out the rose and hold it in your hands.

“Before I tell you who I choose I just want you to know I really like both of you but I just can’t have you with me at the same time if this will cause trouble.”

You look between the two of them and take a deep breath before you say the name.

“Renjun.” He gasps. “Do you accept this rose?”

“Hell yes.” You pin the rose to his jacket and he can’t take off the smile on his face. “Thank you so much, Y/N.”

You glance over to the other bachelor who’s looking down and shaking his head.

“Hendery,” he lifts his head, “can we talk before you go?”

“Sure.” You two get up leaving Renjun inside.

You stand outside the restaurant as Hendery’s ride arrives.

“I’m sorry it came down to this.” You give him an apologetic look. “I wish I had more time to get to know you better but I feel like I stopped being your focus the moment you two started this fight.”

“I don’t even know what to say…” He almost whispers as tears build up in his eyes.

You have seen him happy and you’ve seen him angry in the past weeks but you’ve never seen him get this emotional.

“I really wish you made a different decision tonight, but I respect it, even though you’re breaking my heart.”

With that he turns around not wanting to cry on camera. As he gets into the car you can’t keep your own tears from rolling down your face. His last words are like a sword to your heart. You knew this would be hard but you never meant to break anyone’s heart because you don’t want the same to happen to you. And with this thought, Doyoung’s last words resound in your head. You tried to ignore it but you need to face everybody and find out the truth.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Renjun joins you outside wrapping his jacket around your shoulders.

“Yeah, thanks.” You wipe your damp cheeks and put on a smile. “Should we go? I’m tired.”

“Of course.”

He holds you in his arms until the car arrives and then helps you in. The ride back was quite as Renjun didn’t want to force you to talk considering your fragile state, even if his heart was bursting from being saved tonight.

The boys are already in the living room waiting for you but Chris comes along two. Confusion is in the air as the boys gather in a semi circle.

"Good evening gentleman. You might be wondering why I'm here so early but there's something Y/N wants to address before we start."

Chris steps back giving you a nod for you to take the lead on the conversation.

"Hi guys. This week has been though for me because there's a piece of information I've been trying to ignore but I can't any longer."

The bachelors seem curious yet scared about what might be going on.

"Before Doyoung left he told me to be cautious because somebody here is lying."

Their eyes widen in surprise.

"I've been trying to not pay attention to this but I'm afraid that I might be sending someone home who is here for me and keeping someone who already has somebody."

Tears build up in your eyes but you continue.

"So I'm here asking you all directly. If someone has a girlfriend back home please speak up because I'm here to find someone real and honest and I don't want have my heart broken once again."

Chris places his hand on your shoulder as your voice starts to crack by the end of your sentence.

"As you can tell this is something that's really bothering Y/N and we've told you from the beginning, if any of you is not here for the right reasons please speak up."

"I need to know if this is true or not, I think I deserve to know."

Silence fills in the room as no men dares to speak up. A tear falls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it not waiting to be this vulnerable right now.

"Do you think he might have made it up because he was upset you sent him home?" Yuta finally breaks the silence.

"I don't know, that's why I'm here to clear things up." You take a deep breath. "Please don't lie to me. If you want to leave please do it now before I start developing deep feelings for you."

Nobody says another word as looks are exchanged between all of them. Chris then decides to end the dreadful moment.

"Y/N, do you want to proceed with the cocktail party?"

You look at him and shake your head feeling defeated.

"Do you want some time to collect your thoughts?"

You nod and leave the room. Before Chris goes away he gives out a last warning.

"I ask that you re-think the reasons you are here and know you are free to walk out this house at any time. As you understood tonight we won't have any more time for you to chat with Y/N and we'll be back later for the rose ceremony."

Chris exits the room and the bachelors seem to have some words for each other now.

"Guys, if you're not serious here just go, some of us might loose our chances because of this." Taeyong says.

"Yeah, I was really counting on tonight to talk to Y/N and now I might be going home because somebody here is a coward." Haechan adds.

"We don't even know if this is true." Renjun comments. "Or it could even be Hendery and he already left."

"Oh you shut up, you already have your place secured for another week!" Haechan responds.

Renjun throws his hands in the hair in defeat and the group splits up not to let things escalate further.

You're already sitting in the decision room on the upper floor of the mansion when Chris joins you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Honestly I'm confused." You sigh. "I don't know who to believe."

"I'm not here to take sides but there is the possibility that Doyoung made this up to steer the game before he left."

"That's what I'm scared of, that I might be falsely accusing them. But then again this might be true and I don't want to keep someone here for them to later break my heart."

"As always take your time and trust what your heart tells you, I'm sure you will make the best decision for you."

"Thank you Chris."

"I'll be back when you're ready."

Chris leaves the room and you lower your head starting to doubt ever joining this show. You thought you'd come here to find your true love but you might be leaving even more broken.

After an hour, that felt like days for the bachelors downstairs, you and Chris join them.

"Before we start, does anybody want to say something?"

Nobody wants to speak.

"Well then, our Bachelorette has in the bowl 4 roses to hand out tonight. Jaehyun, Jaemin and Renjun already got theirs ont he dates so that means one of you will be leaving. Y/N, whenever you want."

Chris leaves and you pick up the first rose. You don't have it in you to say anything else tonight so you call out the first name.

"Yuta."

He steps forward with a sympathetic smile.

"Do you accept this rose?"

"I do. And I promise I'm not here to hurt you." You bite your lip not wanting to cry as you pin the rose to his jacket. "Thank you."

As he steps back you pick up the nest one.

"Jeno."

He walks with his signature smile that warms up your heart.

"Do you accept this rose?"

"Of course." You pin it to his jacket and he whispers. "I'm not a violent guy but I'll beat up whoever tries to hurt you."

You smile as he returns to his place.

"Taeyong."

He releases a deep breath he was holding.

"Do you accept this rose?"

"Absolutely." You pin the rose. "Thank you so much."

When he walks back Chris re-enters the room.

"Y/N, this is the last rose tonight. Have you made your decision?"

"Yes."

Chris takes the empty bowl leaving you to announce the next guy you want to keep for another week. Johnny and Haechan look nervous as they expect to hear their names.

"Johnny."

He looks relieved and the other boy just looks down in defeat.

"Do you accept this rose?"

"Definitely." You pin the last rose of the night. "Thank you for trusting me."

Chris comes back into the living room.

"Haechan unfortunately you two were not meant to be. You can say your goodbyes to everybody."

He hugs the guys and then approaches you.

"I'm sorry Haechan." You hug him.

"I should be the one apologising." He holds you tight. "I had no right talking to you like that, I hope you can forgive me."

"No hard feelings ok?" You smile.

"No hard feelings." He assures you. "Good luck with these suckers!"

He kisses your forehead and leaves while the rest of the group laugh.

In the next episode:

Things are awkward between the bachelors as they try to figure out who can possibly be deceiving you.

“I bet it’s you. Just admit it!”

“If I go home and find out a cheater gets to stay I will be pissed.”

And two more men will be leaving the competition.

“I thought we were building something special.”

“I can’t keep you all here.”

“You gotta make every second count.”

Stay tuned for next weeks episode premiering 18/07.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Episode 6

a/n: oh man this week was a true challenge! juggling between lack of motivation and ideas, but I managed to get it out even though I made some scenes smaller than they should be... do give me some feedback please! ❤

taglist: @skrtbabe @yutahoes @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nakamotonudes @n0hyuck @negincho @love-and-other-possibilities @readers-posts @sylviacxt @tyongf-sunflower99

If you’d like to be included in the taglist for the series do let me know ❤︎

#cznnet #nctcreations #kpopscape #the bachelorette nct edition #nct imagine #johnny imagine #taeyong imagine #yuta imagine #jaehyun imagine #hendery imagine #renjun imagine #jeno imagine #haechan imagine #jaemin imagine

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zombryz · 4 years ago

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★ needy ★ a Frieza story pt.2

Please read pt.1 here 【☆】

TW - mentions of anxiety, mentions of smut (next chapter will be smut)

Piccolo and Gohan arrive at Capsule Corp on request of Bulma. It’s still late so Bulma gathers everyone on the rooftop for a meeting.

“Y/N has been taken.” She says facing away from them and staring at the night horizon, unable to see their reactions. No comments were made so she turned around to face Piccolo, Trunks, Gohan, Goten, Chi-Chi, Krillen, and Android 18. This had become an emergency meeting. She continued to speak, “as you know Goku and Vegeta are training on Beerus’ planet.” She rolled her eyes. No one said anything unsure of where this was going. “I think I know who took Y/N but gods I hope I am wrong.” She brought her hand up to her face trying to hide her guilt, struggling to say what she was about to say.

There was a brief pause. Everyone’s eyes still fixed on her. “Frieza took her. I had a feeling that he had been brought back for some time now...”

“What do you need us to do, Bulma?” Piccolo finally chimes in with his arms still crossed attempting to hide his concern at the mention of Frieza’s name.

“We need to somehow get to Whis so he can bring home Goku and Vegeta.” She turned to him, anger in her eyes. She thought, how could she let this happen? An evil being came and abducted her best friend. She couldn’t get emotional now. “I’m thinking we use food, and lots of it!”

Everyone nodded in agreement, they were going to stay up all night trying to reach Whis. You were a part of their family. The idea of Frieza having you scared everyone, they wouldn’t dare say it outloud but they were terrified that he had already killed you.

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

White noise is all you hear. Your eyes flutter open and your consciousness comes with a pounding headache. Where were you? Nothing looks familiar. You thought back to the last thing you remember. Frieza. That bastard. Where did he bring you? You tried calming your breathing so you wouldn’t freak out. You start to look around, scanning your surroundings for anything that might help you escape. You felt that your hands were tied behind your back. Your chest feels heavy, there is something big and metallic hanging around your neck, you couldn’t exactly see it but you assumed it was some kind of collar to keep you from trying to leave. Great, now I’m a pet you thought. Wherever you were looked to be a spaceship of some kind. The walls were a type of metal that matched your collar, the floor you were sitting on was cold and there was no sign of anyone, not even Frieza. It didn’t look like a throne room, so where are you? You looked over to your right and there was a literal king sized bed floating in mid air, illuminated blue from the bottom. On your left was a large and exquisite dining area. Okay, so you’re probably in someone's quarters. Why?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sliding of the quarter’s door. You slowly slid back into the wall you were leaning against in hopes that you’d blend in, not to be seen. With no hesitation Lord Frieza walks in, his strut more intimidating than ever. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, he instead ignores you completely. He walked over to his dining table and began pouring himself a glass of wine. After drinking the glass in one sip he finally spoke,

“Ah, comfortable are we, human?” His bright red eyes piercing yours, making you feel like prey under his predatory stare. “You see, I’ve never had the need for hostages so sadly, I do not have room for them.” He raises his hand to jester in the air in complete annoyance, but continues talking anyways. “You should feel honored to be staying in my quarters with me.” He twists his mouth into a smirk.

“I liked my apartment better” You retorted, instantly regretting saying anything at all.

“Ahh, a spunky little one,” He began walking over to you, his feet leaving behind a creepy mechanical sound. As he closes the space between you he leans down with one hand still behind his back while the other reaches for your face. He grabs your jaw, causing your lips to pucker out. Your jaw was still sore from the night before. He slowly lifts you so that you can look him in the eyes. “What is it about you that makes the monkey’s willing to do anything?” He questioned examining your face and body. His eyes continue lower and lower down your body until they snap back connecting your eye contact once more.

The interaction was making you anxious. Your breathing became sporadic and Frieza started to notice this. With his free hand he ran a clawed finger up your abdomen starting at your naval and slowing when he got to your ribs just under your bra wire. This motion sent shivers down your spine.

“Human lungs are so fragile, hmm?” His voice quieter than it had been only moments ago. You didn’t break eye contact trying not to let him feel superior in this moment. You didn’t want him to be the powerful one although there was no doubt that he was. He removed his hand from your ribs to run it over your face, he absorbed your energy from you once more forcing you to sleep.

You fluttered your eyes open the same as before. This time there was sunlight creeping in from the window instead of the darkness that laid there previously. The ship must be facing the sun this time, before you were only able to see stars. There was something different though, you didn’t feel as cold as you did before. You actually felt very comfortable, you grip around you only to feel that your surroundings had been replaced with a soft feeling. Sitting up you realize where you were. Frieza’s bed?! When you look around he’s nowhere to be found. You had no idea how much time had passed or why you had been asleep in his bed. Your hands were no longer bound together but your collar remained where it had been before. You rolled out of the bed standing to your feet, you must’ve not been fully used to the gravity difference because you started stumbling.

“Ha, this is very entertaining, please don’t stop on my account,” You knew that voice. It was Frieza. When you turn around you see him coming out of a room that was attached to his quarters. Your brows furrow in anger.

“This isn’t funny Frieza, how long am I going to be here?” As time goes by so does your confidence in speaking to him. He needs you as a hostage, so he can’t kill you. Right?

“I share my bed with you and this is the thanks I get?” he pouts. “Such a pity, I liked it better when you were asleep.” He added while he removed one hand from behind his back to pick at his nails. You were no longer entertaining him.

You walked up to him, becoming cocky with your movements. “Listen Frieza, Goku can lock onto my location. You better hope he doesn’t pop up here and kick your ass!” you started waving a finger in his face, anger getting the best of you. Maybe you should’ve thought out that last part.

Frieza grabs your wrist and your finger retreats forming into a fist. His grip was always so tight. “Ouch,” you tried to pull away but couldn’t escape his grasp. Frieza removed his free hand from behind his back to place it on the small of your back. You gasped at the action not expecting him to grab you by the waist. In one swift motion he pulled you in closer to him, your chests were inches away from each other. There was no calming your breathing, you were so nervous.

“Just because you’re my hostage doesn’t mean that I have to be nice to you.”

Silence. You had nothing to say, there was so much tension it could fill the whole room. You didn’t like him but something about how close you were caused a million butterflies in your stomach crying to be let out. You swallowed in hopes the feeling would go away. He was the enemy, why were you feeling this way about him? Before you could be in your thoughts any longer you felt something cold sneaking its way up your leg. You didn’t dare look down but you had a feeling you knew what it was. Frieza’s tail was climbing its way up your leg.

Shit. What is going on?

Frieza looked down at your leg realizing his tail had you pinned. He released you immediately and left the room without a glance in your direction. The gravity became heavy once more and you dropped to your knees at the foot of Frieza’s bed. What just happened?

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

Later that night you were laying in Frieza’s bed. He hadn’t returned yet so you were alone in your thoughts for hours. Whatever happened you had a feeling Frieza felt it too. What did this mean? You can’t be ‘sleeping with the enemy’. You had to get out of here before anything else happened. Before you could plan an escape, the door opens.

“I-I feel the need to tell you that my tail has a mind of its own so don’t get any wrong ideas.”

You didn’t answer. What would you even say to that? The air wasn’t awkward, as soon as he re-entered the room the tension was back. This was the first time Frieza sounded unsure of anything. It was like your presence made him weak. He walked over to the bed. Uh-oh, you just realized that in the past however many nights Frieza had put you to sleep that you weren’t conscious and had no idea if Frieza was actually sleeping IN the bed with you. When he reached the side of the bed he untucked the sheets insinuating that he would be getting into the bed. Your eyes went wide, you froze unsure of what to do. You turn over to face away from him, you felt his movement as he got under the covers. He shifts around to get comfortable. Well this couldn’t get anymore awkward. Your thoughts running wild it was getting harder to control them. You turned over on your side this time facing him, he was laying with his hands behind his head staring blankly at the ceiling. You could finally decipher the tension you had been feeling, it was sexual. Your desires becoming hard to ignore. Your cheeks give off heat leaving behind a rosy hue. You closed your eyes tightly trying not to think about all the things you’d wish he’d do to you.

“Please do control yourself little one, I can smell your arousal from over here.”

You froze. He can smell you? This was embarrassing. Could you use this to your advantage in some way? He seemed vulnerable, maybe you could use this to escape. Did you even want to escape anymore? Why were you feeling this way?

This was killing you. You decided to just let your instincts take charge, before you knew it you had hoped on top of him, straddling him, holding his hands at the sides of his head. You were pinning him down. Under your grasp, he had become the prey. He didn’t respond, he did nothing. Maybe he was unsure of what your intentions were? You were breathing heavy but he was completely calm, unconcerned with you. He treated you as though you had no power or strength over him and it drove you mad. His eyes locked on yours, there was a moment, the tiniest moment of need in his eyes. He looked at you like he was enjoying this. With your instincts still in control you did it, you leaned down pressing your lips to his dark ones. The kiss was intimate but brief. Almost immediately you were shoved off, the roles had reversed. He quickly flipped you over and had you pinned down beneath him. Your hands were grasped tightly in his, he held them above your head.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His brows furrow, he was angry. Gods, he was so beautiful. Was he going to kill you now? Maybe he’ll say whatever to his grand plan and kill you right where you lay.

He slowly removed his palms from yours, sitting up still straddling you. His face turned sour, his pointer finger lifted up as he swirled together a red ball of energy. He started laughing evilly. This was it. This was the end.

#frieza #lord frieza #dbs frieza #dbs goku #dbs whis #dbs bulma #frieza imagine #fan fiction #bryannawrites #friezaneedyfic #needy #fan fic smut

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florrickandassociates · 3 years ago

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TGF Thoughts: 5x08-- And the détente had an end...

I did not like this episode! I had many problems with it! More under the cut...

A purple line is painted on a curb and then we’re watching footage of Wackner’s show. Question: do they only wear the costumes when it’s a low profile case? It was very noticeable they didn’t have them on in the cancel culture episode, and they don’t have them on in the Julius scenes in this episode...

Also, can I pretend that the horse and cat wearing tiara are meant to be BoJack and Princess Carolyn?

Del is remote-watching a focus group about Wackner’s show when Liz walks in. He refers to Wackner as “your guy” and Liz replies, “Must not be going well if you’re calling him my guy.” Sounds like “why is she my stripper when she does something bad?”

The focus group is in Vegas “where the real Americans live.” The clips from Wackner’s show being tested seem to be only the most ridiculous ones. Unsurprisingly, the focus group hates the show.

And here is my first question: Why are they testing a version of Wackner’s show that seems to be exclusively silliness? I know, you know, the writers know, and Del knows that that’s not funny.

Wackner Rules is not a good title.

I love Liz being amused by the focus group going poorly.

Why don’t people like Wackner Rules? Well, the cases are stupid—fights over barking dogs, shoes that don’t fit. They’d rather see burglary or robbery. This is silly, because while I’m sure most of Wackner’s cases are silly, we've seen a fair number of cases with a little more substance (or at least zaniness that makes them less mundane), including the one with the high profile comedian that was filmed explicitly to be part of this reality show. So is Wackner Rules, despite its cases financed by David Cord, just the most boring shit possible? And if so, why? Again, everyone involved here knows better than that.

Also is this just Del’s pet project? Is that why he is producing it, testing it, and approving it?

Liz rolls her eyes at the “wisdom of the crowd” on display. Then she shuts the laptop without realizing what she’s doing and jokes around about it.

If I were Del and my partner had just disparaged my work and then shut down my laptop while I was working, I would be furious. However, this is a bad episode of a television show and I love Liz so I am amused.

Del goes to fill Wackner in on how the focus group went. Wackner does not care about the opinions of twelve people. (This is funny, given that he has decided he is the most important person when it comes to making decisions and also that juries have twelve people too.)

No, dear god, no, please do not make me sit through tiny office jokes again. Have we transported back in time to season seven of TGW? I hated the door slamming against Eli’s desk then and I hate the sudden addition of this “joke” to Wackner’s chambers now.

The calendar says February 2021. Is it supposed to be February?

Apparently, the focus group likes the court, the costumes, and, mostly, Marissa. Just not the cases.

Marissa’s all, “well what do they want, a murder case?” and Del gives her a look like, “Can you???”

Again, the cases weren’t so silly they were boring in any other episodes and we know that Del/Wackner/Cord were meeting to discuss the best test cases for TV. So, like, how did people waste their time and energy making this obviously awful episode of TV for the focus group? No one involved is that clueless and it makes me dislike this plot.

AND RIGHT AFTER LAST EPISODE WHERE THE CASE ESCALATED TO THE POINT OF PRISON? I think that’s maybe my biggest complaint about this plot, and this episode as a whole. The last episode gave the this season a lot of momentum. Prison! Stakes are raised! Will Marissa say anything!? How much power is too much power for Wackner?! And then we get this episode, and it’s like, jk, forget about all that, now Wackner’s cases are drying up and everyone involved has zero critical thinking skills and we’re going to forget the prison thing ever happened!

“His court needs this show. Look at Trump. He wasn’t shit until The Apprentice,” Del tells Marissa after Wackner exits. Marissa does not react to the Trump reference, which may be the low point of this episode. Does Marissa Gold want to build the next Trump!? Is Marissa Gold not concerned that someone has just suggested that the goal of her show is to make someone in to Trump!? Hello?! This is not a reference you drop casually! I would be concerned about partnering with Del if I heard this! Marissa would be too! So why isn’t she?!

Also, this line + the “real Americans” as the target audience for Wackner’s show + the USA! Chanting at the end make me think the point here is somehow supposed to be about Trump and, like, cults of personality? I don’t really see it but I’ll reserve judgement until I see where Wackner’s arc ends up.

Julius heads to Wackner’s court to meet with Cord. He pitches them on his new firm. How is Julius going to start a new firm already? Wasn’t RL the only place that would take him? And pitching Cord on a firm with the 20% of staff that was laid off is a stupid idea, too. As Cord says, hiring the people laid off means hiring the “B-Team.” I dunno if that is actually true, but I know that Cord and anyone else who knows those were the people who were laid off will see it that way. Why is this in Julius’s business pitch? Like, is Cord wondering where Julius would get employees from? Is that a question?

Reddick & Lockhart, Julius says, is no longer eligible for no-bid government contracts. I want to know why: is this because RL is actually STR Laurie, or is this because Diane is white? If the latter, then you’d think we’d hear a little more about it...

Why is Cord calling the Copy Coop somewhere near the courthouse in a business district in Chicago “the middle of nowhere”?

Anyway, Cord passes on the new firm because it is not innovative and it does not disrupt anything.

Then Julius pitches the firm but with known-innovator Diane Lockhart and her client list. Cord is kind of interested. Cord cares that much about Diane? Alright.

Julius, after involving Diane, calls her to tell her what he’s done. When he gets back to his car, he is being given a ticket for parking in a purple zone. A purple zone is, apparently, court staff parking for Wackner’s court.

Julius rips up the ticket, then gets another ticket for destroying the ticket, and another ticket for destroying that ticket.

Wackner asks Marissa to find out how he can get out of the reality show. Marissa refuses and says she’s going to find out how they’re portraying Wackner, since the show benefits him. This is because he has “fewer cases this week than the week before, and fewer than the week before that. This court goes away unless more people know you’re here.” What? Where did that come from? I’m so confused. Last week Wackner had infinite money and a prison and was dealing with cases with settlements in the millions and famous comedians. Now his audience is dwindling and I’m supposed to care about this plotline? Thanks, but I cared about the plot you already sold me on, writers!

Hey, wasn’t there a thread at some point in this season about David Lee bugging Liz’s office? Odds we ever hear about that again?

Diane does not like Julius’s new firm idea. “David Lee is insisting that I stay,” Diane says, as though David Lee actually has that kind of power over her.

Julius points out that all the other partners are threatening to resign unless Diane is replaced, and “at a certain point, it won’t matter what David Lee says.” Diane says she’ll think about it.

Julius tries to talk to Cord again and finds that his car has been towed. This scene is too long, and watching Julius get confused by shifting, fake rules feels a little too much like the first Memo 618 episode. This episode only has a 40-minute run-time and we spend a lot of it on building up this plot. I don't really get why. Sure, it’s fun to watch people act incredulous, but we already know Wackner’s court is trying to put some muscle behind its authority (violence to encourage compliance, literal prison) so I don’t know why we need to spend so much time on what feels like a lower key bizarro version of a theme we are already aware of.

Just, like, do a boring ass case of the week episode if you don’t have ideas. Don’t regress the plotting and kill the momentum.

SPEAKING of killing momentum, remember how Carmen got a stellar introduction, a few episodes of development, and then pretty much disappeared for several consecutive episodes?

Then there’s another one of these scenes where Julius tries to get his car and more and more people enforce Wackner’s fake ticket.

I do not like “Wackner’s City of Chicago” being on the seal. I think he'd have something more clever than that on the seal.

David Lee calls Cord in to pitch him on bringing over all of his business. This scene confuses me, because you’d think Cord would be a big get for giant corporation STR Laurie. But no, David Lee wants Cord to bring his West Coast, East Coast, and Europe business to boutique firm Reddick Lockhart. Or, at least, that’s what Cord’s hesitance suggests to me.

Cord tells David Lee that Diane is leaving and that he won’t go to a firm that is breaking apart. David Lee denies it.

THIS sounds like the Hitting the Fan score.

David Lee insists that Liz and Diane drop what they’re doing and come up to his office. They do.

David asks Diane if she’s leaving. She says she was asked to join another firm, and that she was told that the equity partners are planning to resign unless she resigns, so she’s considering it.

“No one is threatening to resign without my permission,” David responds. Those must be some contracts if he is this powerful...

David warns Diane about poaching clients and she’s all, they’re free to leave if they want (ah, so they’re free to leave when you’re leaving but they’re your clients and can be stolen when YOU’RE losing them, I see). Liz is irritated by all of this and pre-accuses Diane of stealing clients after what she’s already done to keep her position. Fair.

David asks Diane what her issues are. “I’m a name partner being squeezed out of the decision making process,” she says. “And why is that, Diane?” Liz asks. “Because of my race!” Diane insists. “Because no one respects your decision to stay in your position. It is not yours by right,” Liz says.

“I’ve fought as hard as anyone here to keep this firm solvent. And I didn’t inherit this firm. I was invited in, and I earned...” OOOH FINALLY WE ARE GOING TO ADDRESS THAT LIZ HAD NO EXPERIENCE RUNNING A FIRM BEFORE THIS ONE FELL INTO HER LAP. Shame it’s a throwaway line.

STRL’s presence both adds and removes tension here. I wish they pushed this a little further. Sometimes David Lee seems to be functioning as an outside mediator; sometimes he has more power. What’s the point of all of these dilemmas and battles if at the end of the day, STRL owns and controls everything? How much can RL really mean to them? There’s even an RL in their name that doesn't stand for Reddick/Lockhart. I just don’t understand what it means to be a name partner in a black firm when that firm is actually controlled by some giant company. The way I see it, Diane should want out of RL because she’s past retirement age and being controlled by David Lee and that can’t be fun, and Madeline et al should want out because the mandate to focus on profit over social justice is not mostly coming from Diane or even Adrian’s legacy... it’s coming from the giant power and profit hungry corporation that owns you!

David has Diane and Liz stand on opposite sides of his desk. “Are you gonna spank us?” Liz says. I love funny Liz. Funny Liz is my favorite. But you know what I wish we also got more of? Liz’s thought process in general.

David’s point with this is that David is going to “come live and work with” Diane and Liz if they don’t figure it out themselves. I know they can’t easily get out from under STRL but Adrian did it so there’s surely a way to resign... this feels so demoralizing... I can’t believe Diane just takes this.

As they walk downstairs, Liz says, “If you’re going to leave, there’s nothing to talk about. “Liz, I don’t want to leave this firm. And you don’t want me to leave. So why don’t we hire a partner to replace Boseman?”

(1) I like that they’re acknowledging that Liz and Diane clearly want to work together and like working together and are having this fight mostly because they have to have this fight, not because they actually want to. Pretty much nothing Liz has done suggests she actually wants Diane to step down and pretty much nothing Diane has done suggests she actually wants to switch firms. So good, that’s text instead of subtext now.

(2) Weren’t they going to hire a partner to replace Boseman in the first place? Why didn’t that just... happen then and avoid all this?

Liz says she’ll think about it, but we all know that this is what she and Diane both want. This is where they should’ve been weeks ago.

OMG okay I knew they had talked about it before! In 5x02 Diane suggests this strategy from the start! Why does it go away!? It’s clearly the right strategy and doing it that early could’ve prevented a lot of conflict and tension. At this point, it feels almost too little, too late. What’s it going to do other than smooth things over with Diane and Liz?

They really are keeping the cameras rolling for Julius’s dumb parking ticket thing? Guarantee this does not make Wackner look good. As trivial as parking spaces seem, this feels like the sort of issue that would really piss off a lot of people. Maybe that would make good TV, but you want people to like and trust Wackner to keep people coming back to a reality show...

Julius, being Julius, refuses to apologize to Wackner and make the whole issue go away. I think why this rubs me—and so many others; I have seen nothing but negativity about this episode among friends and on the internet—the wrong way is that this feels like power for the sake of power. It is trivial, self-important (“Wackner’s City of Chicago”), disconnected from anything resembling reality. That’s not to say anything else about Wackner has been realistic, but the writers have been walking a very fine line between surreal, allegorical storytelling and straining credulity. This feels so mundane and unneeded that I actually have an easier time accepting that Wackner has created his own prison system than I do accepting that he’s tried to reserve parking spaces for his staff. At least with a prison, I see the larger-than-life point the writers are trying to make.

The parking attendant tells Wackner she wants to add more reserved spaces up the street and Wackner is like, oh, good! I don’t understand! Who is this lady that just wants to enforce Wackner’s rules? Does she want more spaces because it’s kind of a powertrip to give people tickets? Why do they need more reserved staff parking when cases are dwindling? Who is Wackner’s staff? Why do they need more parking?

And like, it’s one thing when Wackner’s antics affect people who are part of his little bubble, since they all have agreed to be there. How can he just reserve street parking? Wouldn’t this get shut down in a day? Julius would NOT be the only one furious.

Then Julius decides to steal Wackner’s book of seals so he can make it look like his ticket is paid.

So if they have footage from the cancel culture episode of Wackner Rules, why wouldn’t they have used it? We see it here, in the editing room, so why are the cases so boring again? (I’m sorry, I know I've said this like 1000 times, but it’s bothering me so much that this episode isn’t even internally consistent.)

(This whole plot is a time-filling detour tbh. I have no problem believing Wackner Rules could be an interesting TV show seeing as how I am watching it as part of an interesting TV show, so I don’t get why we need to spend all this time on how this obviously bad first draft of the show is bad and that it can be improved by fixing a non-existent problem? Also, there are zero stakes because Del owns the show and is also the one deciding whether or not to air the show.)

(Like, there could be a version of this where the focus group really helps us get into where Wackner’s stuff does and doesn’t translate and the changes he’s asked to make and how the fact it’s television changes the court, blah blah blah. Instead, the premise seems to be that the show is capturing what Wackner’s court was like in the days before Marissa or Cord or Del became involved, which makes no sense and is also boring!)

They’re mentioning Marissa being in the IDF again. This comes up because the re-edit of Wackner Rules is all about Marissa. This is kind of fun and meta! Marissa would definitely be a favorite on a reality show!

It turns out this re-edit is mostly about how the editor has a huge crush on Marissa.

I know that these tv writers know the process for tv writing and production better than I possibly could. I still do not believe that this reality show has one producer (Del) and an editor who is making executive decisions about the content of the show, and that this is for some reason happening in a mobile trailer parked outside of the court. Surely there would be meetings about what direction to take, not just a vague instruction to “make it better”?

In case I needed more evidence that the writers did not bring their A-game for this episode, we get Diane talking to RBG, again, because apparently now there are no other ways to clue us in on what Diane’s thinking. This is just lazy.

The RBG thing worked for me in 5x06 because it felt like a novel way for Diane to get to talk out loud, and that episode that wouldn’t have worked if we didn’t have a way to see what Diane was thinking. Here, it feels like the writers are doing it because they did it before and it worked and it’s thematically connected and it’s easy.

Doesn’t this entire scene just radiate laziness????

I know not every episode can be great but just don’t try to do something interesting and innovative if you’re going to half ass it.

I’m not even bothered by the thought that Diane daydreams about conversations with RBG. I buy that. I just don’t need this conversation (which feels way too much like it’s supposed to be an actual conversation for my taste).

OMG please stop talking about how RBG and Scalia were friends, I beg you, if you’re going to do this device again can you at least have a different conversation.

So much exposition. Diane knows someone named Allegra through EMILY’s List and thinks she’ll be a perfect choice for the third partner. Diane did hear she had a meltdown, though.

Julius gets arrested for stealing Wackner’s sticker book. When he starts shouting about how it’s a fake court, the officer is like, “As real as Officer McFinely’s death?” calling back to the last episode. I do find it interesting the police would be willing to overlook Wackner’s complete disregard for the law because of a grudge involving the law firm, and I like that choice.

Allegra is basically a slightly more toned-down version of Elsbeth. She has a messy, rented office, and trails off mid-thought. Since she’s kind of a familiar character type, I’m not overly impressed by her, but she’ll be fine to add some little bits of humor to the office drama, I think. My hope is that they use her in small doses, because I have a low tolerance for quirk.

Allegra’s office has tons of books. I can’t see what most of them are, but she has a copy of The Nix, and I liked that book! It’s the only fiction title I can spot; the rest seems like political commentary or pop sociology/business stuff.

Diane mentioning her RBG hallucinations to Allegra is probably a very smart way to win over Allegra.

Marissa encourages the editor, whose crush is so obvious it’s uncomfortable, to put Wackner’s outburst in the show. The one about how Del is using the show to rehabilitate the comedian!? Why would Del air that?! How does this help anything?! If the goal is to get Wackner’s court more cases, why would this make anyone choose to take their case there?

The police bring Julius to Wackner’s court, which I have a slight bit of trouble believing (not that any of this is believable, but you know what I mean—I don’t feel like it’s logical given everything else I know about this premise) but I'll roll with.

Now there’s some ridiculous, awful fake lawyer who was “devil’s advocate” with devil horns in the last episode and David Cord is prosecuting Julius and... what the actual fuck is going on in this scene? This Devil’s Advocate man would not have lasted a second in what we’ve seen of Wackner’s court before this point—he is an obvious liar and showman who Wackner would have no patience for. And if Cord has a bone to pick with Julius, this is an odd way of showing it, because it feels like Cord is there as a familiar face and not for a story reason.

Like, does Cord actively HATE Julius? Is... that supposed to be the point of this?

Seriously though, Devil’s Advocate would get like two sentences into his story about how Julius grew up poor before Wackner would make him stop, and if he got farther than that, Julius interrupting to ask “What are you talking about?” would’ve prompted Wackner to hold up that “cut the shit” card.

This humor is so fucking lazy. In the worst moments of this show, they take gags that have previously been successful and run with them until you can’t believe you ever found them endearing. That’s this scene.

Also it just occurred to me when I referenced the “Cut the Shit” card that we’ve seen Wackner be able to get audience responses to his cases. Seems to me like you pretty much already have your focus group results, no? You do more of the things that make the live audience excited and fewer of the things that make them get up and leave. The things that the live audience plays along with and reacts to are the catch phrases you’re going to put on merchandise. I’m not a TV producer and this is very obvious to me.

Instead of telling this lying lawyer to stop, Wackner instead asks the court musician to play “This is Us like music.” Make it stop. I don’t know who finds this funny but it’s not me!

Can you IMAGINE the fake reality show airing any of this? I dislike it and I know all of the players and context.

There is a shot of Del looking excited to see what’s going to happen. I’m sorry, but if Del’s instincts are this bad I just do not believe he runs a streaming service. Maybe his main role is to do the business stuff, not the content stuff? (But if so, why’s he always hanging around Wackner’s court?)

This episode is full of extremely essential scenes, like Marissa and the editor having sex as they watch footage of Marissa. Good for Marissa, I guess? This could’ve really easily just been implied. And if you really want to give Marissa more material, give her an arc, not a hookup where the focus of the sex scene is the editor dude. Or, like, just let her react to the whole prison revelation from the last episode. WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT HOW WACKNER IS SENDING PEOPLE TO PRISON?

Liz and Allegra meet. Allegra makes it sound like it is about her book but then she’s extremely (and intentionally, I think) obvious that she’s there to be the third partner and that Diane scouted her.

What is the point of Allegra asking if Liz has a view of Willis Tower and misidentifying the building? Presumably Allegra lives in Chicago, so you’d think she’d know its most recognizable building by sight (and would probably also call it the Sears Tower).

Liz likes Allegra.

Now there are a ton of cops in court and Del is loving the drama. Sure, it’s dramatic, but is this really want you want to air? Some convoluted thing where a bunch of police officers intimidate a lawyer who works at a firm that was unfairly linked to a cop killing because that lawyer refused to pay a parking ticket issued by a fake court? Who... who is this for?! What’s the angle? Who is amused by this?

Marissa sees Julius is the defendant and jumps into action. She asks Wackner why he’s prosecuting Julius and he says it’s his job. She argues that Julius is from their firm and this is bullshit. Wackner still won’t let him go.

If Julius is from the firm and Wackner employs the firm, is Julius NOT covered under the court employee banner? Why do I even care.

Wackner acts like he’s just not bending the rules, just like Marissa wanted. I’m not interested in this enough to decide whether I agree that this is consistent or think this is actually a different scenario. I just want to be done with this episode so I can forget about it.

I imagine—maybe hope is a better word—that this episode is bad because it’s hard to write five great episodes in a row without kind of phoning one in. I wish this episode didn’t kill the momentum coming out of 5x07 but I’m hoping that it is an isolated issue and not a drop in quality that will also spoil 5x09 and 5x10.

Wackner closes the door on Marissa, which I think is supposed to be meaningful, and Marissa calls Diane down to Wackner’s court to help Julius.

Diane and Liz both go to court. “I’m about to be sent to prison for parking in a purple zone,” Julius explains. “What does that mean?” Diane asks. “If I explained it to you, it wouldn’t make any more sense,” Julius says.

Oh so now we remember that Wackner’s prison exists. When I said I wanted more about it, I didn’t mean that I wanted it looming as a threat... I meant I wanted to explore what it meant that Wackner was promoting prisons...

Diane asks if they should call the police, “the real ones.” I like that it takes her a second longer than Liz and Julius to understand the cops are real. Liz also notes that the SA’s office won’t help either because they might be happy with anything that fucks with RL. This scene is decent. Some of the themes in here are decent. It just feels poorly timed and with the emphasis in the wrong place. I imagine the goal here is to show that Wackner is now more concerned with enforcement than with the process for trials, and that enforcement brings with it a lot of uncomfortable questions. I wish that we’d spend less time on the incredulous reactions and silliness and more time reckoning with those questions.

The next focus group likes the Wackner anger outburst, because, in Del’s mind, they want to see Wackner care about something. Does Del have the worst judgment ever? Wackner looks invested in every single thing he does—how could anyone accuse him of not seeming like he cares? His whole thing, the whole thing that got Del’s attention, is that he pays each case the kind of individualized attention it deserves. Now he only looks like he cares if he blows up? Even if the thing he’s caring about in the explosion in question is his own reputation? Is Del trying to make Wackner into a mid-2010s anti-hero? And if so... why?

Wackner’s outburst that accuses Del of corruption is apparently so good it got an unprecedented “95%” from the focus group. Sure. Why not.

Then Del tells him to keep doing cases “just like this” and they’ll keep the court going. Does that mean just like the ALREADY HIGH PROFILE AND ALREADY HAND PICKED FOR TELEVISION cancel culture case, or cases like the Julius case? If the first, well, duh, that’s why they picked that case in the first place. If the second, again, why?

“You and your colleagues think you get to decide when and how justice is determined. You think it is your right to make and break the rules as you see fit,” Wackner says to Julius. UM, WACKNER, THAT IS LITERALLY YOUR ENTIRE DEAL???????????????????????????

That’s the point, right????? Please tell me the point of this is that Wackner is supposed to look totally hypocritical and like an egomaniac who thinks his own judgment should not be questioned but everyone else’s should be????????????????????????? If this line isn’t meant to be supremely ironic I... I wouldn’t even know where to start.

“The law belongs to the people,” Wackner says, and the cops start chanting, “USA!”. What?!

And then we cut away from this and suddenly we’re welcoming Allegra to the firm and... did I miss an entire episode or something? What happened with Julius? Why are Liz and Diane smiling? How did Diane and Liz’s conversation about Allegra go? Did the other partners agree to this? Did David Lee? This is a very big development! I need more!

Madeline seems welcoming towards Allegra. She and another partner are still suspicious of Diane because they have seen right through this strategy. So... I guess we aren’t done with this arc yet.

Aw, Liz has a picture of herself with her son when he was a baby on her desk.

Diane and Liz drop Wackner as a client. It takes longer than it should for Marissa’s name to come up in this conversation.

If you were wondering about the Julius case we spent most of the episode building up, it’s resolved off screen by Wackner releasing Julius with time served. Why? Don’t know. Did it seem like it was headed that way during anything we previously saw? Nope.

Wackner won’t let Diane and Liz back out, saying he gets to choose his representation (does it REALLY work this way?) and also, probably more importantly, that they won’t be able to get all of Cord’s business if they piss him off by dropping Wackner.

Wackner also notes that they picked up his pilot. I’m sorry, what? Del didn’t just decide that the series he created for his streaming platform would be straight to series? That whole little “Wackner doesn’t test well” plot was resolved by showing an episode with the COTW they obviously should’ve shown from the start and then Wackner made a total of zero changes to his behavior or attitude and now the show is a huge success? What was the POINT? Why did I just watch that?!

“Fuck,” Liz says as the episode ends.

I’ve kinda always thought this, but it’s worth saying again: Madeline and company should resign from the firm. BOTH RL and STRL care more about profit than anything else. Liz and Diane want to work together. Liz and Diane both take the threat of losing Cord’s business seriously. If Madeline wants a firm that’s focused on social justice, it doesn’t matter if Diane is name partner or not. Liz is probably even faster than Diane to decide things based on money, and even if she weren’t, STRL owns them! Plus, I have a feeling that Diane, her clients, Liz, and Cord are probably individually worth more to STRL than Madeline and the other partners combined. If Allegra is down to pursue profit and deal with corporate overlords too, then Madeline and the others matter even less to STRL. Just cut your losses and start the firm you want to start. At this point it won’t even compete with RL.

Don’t get me started on this absolutely idiotic title sequence for Wackner Rules. I’m sure this is someone’s idea of a joke. If I take it seriously, then I have to write about how it is even worse than all of the things I just complained about for the entirety of this recap, and honestly, I’m exhausted.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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