#anyway the das is broken in the same way the real world is and while there are issues | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: Wei Wuxian has achieved time travel! He's gonna fix so many broken things. Unfortunately, WWX has miscalculated a teensy tiny variable and instead of arriving in his original 15yo body in Lotus Pier, he's crash landed in MXY's tiny 7~8yo body at Mo Manor. But no problem, he can fix this if he can just find his real body. (Meanwhile, Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple is acting the wrong kind of childish, aka, Mo Xuanyu is having the weirdest day of his young life.)

Switcheroo - ao3

Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.

Possibly it had to do with the fact that Mo Xuanyu still wasn’t exactly sure how he’d stolen the body – he’d just gone to sleep in the shed, same as always, and then he’d woken up in the softest bed he’d ever encountered in his life…no, softer than even his dreams! He’d thought it over and concluded that he must have died from cold out in the shed, turned into a fierce ghost out of resentment, grown powerful (somehow), then stolen some rich young master’s body when they weren’t paying close enough attention and, once he’d possessed the body, promptly lost all his memory of being a ghost.

It seemed like the only logical course of events.

He was very sorry about it, though. Wei Wuxian seemed like a nice, if very unusual person.

The first day, Mo Xuanyu had barely even noticed the body-switch, being quite so enamored of the soft bed he was in – he’d refused to get out of bed at all, declaring that he was going to lie in and sleep for a century or more, and the people who’d come to the door to get him didn’t beat him or anything over it, but rather just laughed or rolled their eyes and then left him to it. Luckily, at the time, he’d just assumed he was dead or something and proceeded to ignore everything in favor of napping.

He only acknowledged that he was alive later in the afternoon, when his stomach started growling – it seemed like a very unlikely thing for a dead man’s stomach to do.

Mo Xuanyu had by that point figured out that he wasn’t himself anymore, which was fine since he didn’t much like himself; he’d also figured out, through looking himself over, that he was old now. At least fifteen or sixteen, which was twice the age he last remembered himself being. That was fine, too, though: being older meant that he was stronger and faster and would be better able to handle it when people wanted to beat him or something. Most importantly, though, it meant he was old enough to enter the kitchen on his own!

Mo Xuanyu already knew that he wasn’t allowed to eat at the main table, being only the bastard son of the younger daughter, and the cook back at home was a fierce woman who didn’t allow anyone under the age of ten into her kitchen; as a result, he had to wait for his mother to bring him back some food, and it was always cold and not quite enough. Now, though, since he was older, he figured he might as well try to go to the kitchen and fill his belly that way.

Luckily, while his current body’s house was much bigger than the Mo house, all houses were generally built along the same lines, so it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen. Everyone there laughed when he showed up, even though he’d tried to be very quiet and sneak in and then screwed it up by tripping over his own feet – it seemed like everyone thought he was doing it on purpose to be funny – and then the cooks gave him a meal of his own that was hot and fresh and wonderful.

He'd wolfed it down.

“Honestly, Wei Wuxian, you eat like a hungry ghost, you’d think the Jiang clan starves you,” one of them scolded him, but with a smile, and from that Mo Xuanyu learned that the rich young master was called Wei Wuxian and that he lived with the Jiang clan. The different surnames confused him a little, but he didn’t dare ask any questions about it, so he just stuffed his mouth and pretended that was the reason he couldn’t answer.

No one questioned it.

No one questioned it when he went wandering all around instead of doing whatever chores or duties he’d been assigned, either. Someone had actually seen him hovering by a door and asked him to bring back a pheasant when he returned, so out of lack of better options he’d headed outside to try to go find one.

He had a pretty good time walking around the forest, then remembered what he’d been asked and chased the pheasants for a while, without success . Fortunately, he then got lucky and stumbled over an old snare that had three pheasants caught inside, so he’d picked up the whole box and carted it back home.

“Three,” one of the boys in purple-blue marveled as he saw Mo Xuanyu walking towards the kitchen. “You know, people say that the birds around the Lotus Pier have gotten too smart to be caught easily, but look at our da-shixiong; he makes it look easy!”

From this, Mo Xuanyu could figure out that Wei Wuxian was (apparently!) part of a cultivator clan, apparently located at a place called the Lotus Pier, and that he was the oldest or at least head disciple, to boot. He knew all about cultivator clans from his mother, since apparently his father had been a sect leader, and that meant he knew enough to call the other boy ‘shidi’ as he passed, making the other boy beam happily.

It also meant that when he chanced a guess and called the young woman in a pretty pink dress who waved at him ‘shijie’, she smiled and nodded, which meant to him that he’d done the right thing.

“I heard you slept even more of the morning away than usual,” she told him, but didn’t seem too upset about it. “I bet that means you’ll be skipping dinner and staying up all night, hmm?”

Mo Xuanyu had no intention of skipping dinner if it was anything like what the kitchens had given him earlier, actually, but while he was still trying to figure out a way to say that, she said, leaning in close to whisper, “It’s probably a good idea, anyway – Mother and Father are fighting again. Just go to the kitchens to grab something…I promise I’ll make it up to you with some soup tomorrow, pork ribs and lotus roots, your favorite. All right?”

“Shijie, you’re the best,” Mo Xuanyu said effusively, willing to die for her at once, and she laughed and tousled his hair.

“I am,” she said, looking happy. “And if my little A-Xian stays good and obedient, I may even feed him.”

She did, too, the next day when he finally tore himself out of the beautiful wonderful soft bed and went to go find her. She’d made him soup, just as he’d promised, and laughed and laughed for some reason: apparently, she interpreted him being quiet and not talking too much as his efforts to be ‘good and obedient’, which was apparently so out of the ordinary as to be a deliberate joke.

From this, Mo Xuanyu concluded that the young master he’d possessed, Wei Wuxian, was a jackass.

Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. Arrogant and self-centered, talented and brave and probably brilliant, definitely charming and maybe even kind, but also spoiled and inclined to step on other people to get where he wanted to go, if Mo Xuanyu had to guess – why else would everyone constantly react as if him not being obnoxious was the world’s biggest stunt?

No one seemed to expect anything of him at all: he didn’t do any chores, and no one batted an eyelid; he didn’t go where he was told, and everyone just sighed…at one point the sect leader himself came and patted him on the head, scolding him in a joking tone that he hadn’t seen him leading any of the training the way he was supposed to – but when Mo Xuanyu quailed, he’d burst out laughing, telling ‘Wei Wuxian’ to stop pretending to be a scared little rabbit, that it was fine if he’d gotten distracted by some clever new invention or whatever, that someone else would handle it, that he should take as long as he needed.

Mo Xuanyu had pasted a great big smile on his face through force of effort and agreed cheerfully.

The sect leader had accepted it.

Probably a jackass, but clearly a beloved one, Mo Xuanyu thought to himself as he packed up clothing and a few small treasures that no one would miss, a little wistful. The scare of the whole encounter had put things in perspective – he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this sort of façade for long. In fact, he was shocked he’d managed it so long already; surely, no matter how many pranks this Wei Wuxian played, no matter how childishly he behaved, surely someone should’ve noticed that he was actually an eight-year-old masquerading as a sixteen-year-old?

Mo Xuanyu couldn’t decide whether it was sad that no one paid too much attention or something that this Wei Wuxian fellow had brought down on his own head by being so consistently annoying.

Either way, there was nothing for it – he was going to have to leave.

Now that part was really sad: he’d never in his life had such good food, or such a soft bed, or even so many people that just seemed plain old happy to see him as since he’d arrived in this place. But he wasn’t the one all those things were for; he was just a sad ghost possessing a person, and if he stayed, the cultivators would eventually figure out something was wrong and exorcise him.

Probably violently.

Mo Xuanyu probably deserved it, too, but despite that he wasn’t willing.

So he packed up what he could and headed out.

He got all the way to the gate before a new purple-clad disciple – about his age, if he had to guess, and holding a pack like he’d just come back from a trip, with a scowl on his face – called out for Wei Wuxian.

Mo Xuanyu waved a little, hoping that that would be enough.

For the first time, it wasn’t.

The boy’s face settled into an even deeper scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Wei Wuxian! You’re acting all weird – hey! Where are you going?”

Mo Xuanyu was running away, obviously. He wasn’t about to get tied up and exorcised, no thank you.

He didn’t think he’d make it, but it was still worth trying.

Sure enough, the purple-clad boy who was probably called Jiang Cheng, based on what everyone was calling out as they ran by, got tired of running and jumped on his sword, and there was no way Mo Xuanyu would be able to outrun a sword, not even if he tried as fast as he –

Someone picked him up.

It wasn’t Jiang Cheng.

Mo Xuanyu turned his head and stared.

It must be some sort of yao, he thought. Humans were definitely not that pretty.

“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng howled. “What are you even doing in the Lotus Pier?! Put my shixiong down!”

The rescuer, Lan Wangji, frowned a little at Mo Xuanyu.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t know exactly what expression he ought to be making in return, and was a bit too dazed to even dare to guess. He’d just noticed that they were flying – flying! on a sword! – and he was clutching onto this Lan Wangji’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded very definitive.

“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “Sorry? Please don’t drop me.”

“I will not. What is your name?”

“Mo Xuanyu,” Mo Xuanyu admitted, and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as if that meant something to him – except it couldn’t, of course, because Mo Xuanyu was sure he’d never met anyone even remotely like this Lan Wangji fellow in his life. “I don’t remember taking his body. I’m sorry. Can you not exorcise me? I don’t want to die.”

Lan Wangji was silent for a long moment.

He was still flying very fast, and Jiang Cheng was still following, shouting out curses and demands that he stop, not that Lan Wangji was listening.

“There will be no exorcism,” he finally said, and Mo Xuanyu exhaled in relief. “We will, however, fix this.”

“…we?”

“Wei Ying and myself.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded. That sounded more likely than anyone relying on his participation.

“Where are we going?” he asked. Jiang Cheng was falling further and further behind.

“Mo Village.”

Mo Xuanyu tensed up at once.

“You will not be left there,” Lan Wangji clarified, and – how did he know that Mo Xuanyu didn’t want to be left there? “But we must collect Wei Ying, who I suspect is currently in your body.”

“In my…I’m still alive?”

Lan Wangji was quiet again, and then said, “Yes. And you will remain so.”

That was reassuring, mostly.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and found that he mostly felt relieved. He’d be very happy to have his normal body back again, if possible, especially if he didn’t have to stay in Mo Village…“Wait, if I don’t have to stay there, where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to go, unless my father comes back for me. He's a sect leader –”

“He will not, and even if he did, you should not go with him. Once Wei Ying returns to his body, you will be able to stay at the Lotus Pier. If you do not wish to stay there, I will bring you back to the Cloud Recesses – that is my home – instead.”

“Oh,” Mo Xuanyu said, feeling bewildered. That was an awfully nice offer, even if Lan Wangji was feeling guilty about Wei Wuxian stealing his body by accident – which seemed like what had happened here rather than Mo Xuanyu being the one who did the stealing. Maybe he should go with Lan Wangji instead, he seemed much more responsible than Wei Wuxian was, rushing over to rescue him and explain things instead of throwing him into a body and leaving him all alone in a strange place. But on the other hand… “Is the Cloud Recesses…I mean…no offense, but…does it have…”

“Yes?”

“Does it have soft beds, too? And – and hot food?”

Mo Xuanyu didn’t need much, not really. He looked eagerly at Lan Wangji, who had an odd expression on his face briefly before wiping it back to neutral and nodding in confirmation.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and curled up in Lan Wangji’s arms. “Then I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said, sounding strangely serious. “In return for the gift you last gave me – I will.”

#mdzs #mo xuanyu #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #switcheroo

316 notes · View notes

still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years ago

Text

OBEY ME! CHAPTER 51 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

MC goes out looking for them, in the music room the record player starts on its own. MC ends up wondering the empty house on their own, ending up in the library. They reminisce about a conversation with the brothers where they were debating who the real killer of the OG HoL family was. With Asmo & Beel (Beel because he can never imagine family killing each other despite how bad things get and Oh Beel you Sweet sugar plum welcome to the human world~ it be like that sometimes) saying it was the servant, Belphie saying it was a stranger (cause the oldest and the servant are too obvious, and maybe the oldest wasn’t killed cause he was not home at the time) and Satan & Mammon saying it was the oldest brother (with Mammon defending his choice by saying that as they are always the meanest and nastiest it’ll be in an oldest brother’s nature, but also that in the story the oldest never got along with his siblings), Mammon’s argument makes Levi join team oldest. MC chooses who the killer was (it was the oldest c’mon! the guy bought a gun days before a similar model was used to shoot and kill his entire family, and he was seeing arguing with the servant the day before the murder). MC then gets a call on their DDD, and you can choose whether it’s from Satan or Simeon.

MC tells whoever calls what’s going on, while cats shriek in the background of the call (poor Simeon…) One cat is climbing and scratching Satan, Da Vinci and Michelangelo are fighting and the call is kept. They remember more times in the HoL; Lucifer trying to get Belphie to stop napping in the library cause it’s too cold and he’ll get sick, Asmo cooing over how adorable Belphie is asleep, Mammon & Levi arguing about money (Levi: give me my money back Mammon: Chill. Soon. Levi: What’s soon? In 30s? In 1min? In 1min 30s? Mammon: is getting your money back on your bucket list and you’re wondering if you’re gonna croak soon? I dunno I thought it was funny…), Satan yelling at them to find another place to fight cause he’s reading, Beel watching a gory horror movie and devouring snacks, MC is asked if they like horror movies. If they say they like it Lucifer says it’s good that they don’t scare easily, Asmo says they can handle any situation with cool and calm, Levi says they’ve already conquered 7 of the devildom’s most powerful demons so really what’s there to it, Mammon says that either way MC has nothing to worry about, Lucifer agrees adding that they’ll always have the brothers at their side (why is this so sweet?????). MC pines for them rn and tries to reassure themself only to satan to ask them what’s wrong and if they missed him that much (and this is the point irl where I would have taken the nearest solid object and chucked it at his head but MC’s made of stronger stuff)

Simeon is there as well and Satan is covered in powder (he’d been testing a new drink flavour which pissed all the cats and now he’s covered in the flavouring. Simeon says that wouldn’t have happened if there were no cats in the café in the first place. Satan says they are an improvement. Simeon – poor fellow – still has no idea why Satan thinks he wanted a cat cafe), MC screams wtf and they explain that Barbatos had dropped by and they’d asked him to portal them to MC and why hadn’t they done this in the first place? I mean ik they probably all wanted to spend time together via a mini vacation and all 3 of them are probably too scatter brained to think of Barbatos on their own but why did no one else suggest Barbatos? Barbatos had apparently being fuming cause he’d gone to the café to take a small break from his man-child of a boss and his other 24/7 duties only to be placed in charge of a café full of manic cats. Satan thinks being stuck in a cat café is heavenly, Simeon disagrees and says Barbatos will find a way to get back them. MC tells them calm the fuck down cause your brother and your son are missing! Satan says he is calm, heavily implying he was seconds away from losing his shit. Simeon changes the subject by saying that the imitation HoL looks like a carbon copy of the OG, Satan says the books in the library (where they currently are) are different to the ones back home and that the ones in this house are more to satan’s taste than the ones back home. Simeon notes that they all seem to be about art. Satan picks up an odd book out, it’s old and ragged with a picture of a pink geranium on it. The title is Ma…14-31 with the middle part faded out. Simeon stresses that they should be focused on finding the others but both Satan & MC wanna open the weird book. Simeon manages to drag them away though to search for the others and come back to the book but when he opens the door out of the library they’re enveloped in a bright white light.

They end up in a brightly lit forest, with Satan wondering tf happened and Simeon saying he recognises the place, an unknown voice asks who’s there, revealing angel!Beel dncjndsjND is MC time travelling AGAIN!? How many times are they gonna fuck up history!? Also what about Satan!? Man’s gonna lose his shit!!? Also I desperately wish MC remembered their last trip to the past just so they could be like ‘lol hey guys long time no see’ and Satan & Simeon would just ???????!!!?? Beel (who’s a gate protector angel? Something like that) asks who they are and MC (who unfortunately remembers nothing) goes “Beel!? Tf you wearing” and he goes “tf are you”, Satan is stunned silent and Simeon soothes things over by being Simeon. Beel asks Simeon who MC and Satan are and he says they are his acquaintances – MC and Sully…….SULLY!! SULLY !!? SULLY!!!!? Out of respect to everyone named sully I won’t say anything, ANYWAY satan has the same issues with the name Sully as I do but Simeon whispers and tells him he doesn’t know if they’re in the past, in an AU or something else entirely so it’d be safer to keep the name ‘Satan’ a secret. Simeon asks what Lucifer’s doing and Beel tells him that he’s at the Celestial Palace, with Michael and the other higher ups which should include Simeon. Simeon says yes but “you see these two idiots here behind me are so fucking dumb they fell into a hidden pit and called me to rescue them because they were too fucking dumb to remember that as angels they have both magic and wings” Satan has the same issues with that excuse as I do. Simeon asks about the brothers, Beel says the same as usual. Levi’s holed up in his room cause he fears he’ll be made redundant with the end of the war (so this takes place around the same time as the last trip to the past). Satan mumbles about Levi being the same even back when he was an angel, MC asks whether Satan remembers anything from when his brothers were angels, he says he has broken fragmented memories from their times as angels because he only sometimes was able to see through Lucifer’s eyes (and I just realised how similar Satan and MC are? They’re both relatively newcomers to the family, biologically they’re nothing like the brothers and probably the rest of their species (Satan being born from Lucifer’s rage and MC having a fallen angel as an ancestor), they both accidentally became part of the family with Lucifer having no choice when all the others were picked by him, they’re both cool, collected and calm but hide destructive magic, from everyone else in the HoL they’re the more normal ones but are also up for stupid shenanigans, they’re both pretty considerate and seem to show affection through acts of service – with how they look out for the others and their needs and likes, neither are scared to talk back to Lucifer, neither have met any of the celestial realm higher ups or know the workings of the celestial realm, neither have really met Lilith, they both had some kinda beef with Lucifer, they were never part of the war between the demons and angels or part of the fight before the Fall, their few memories of the Celestial realm come from either what they saw through Lucifer or what Lilith showed them, they’re the only ones in the family who are biologically related to someone else who either is or was part of the family, they’re stubborn and hardworking, and because right after the Fall and after Lilith’s death I’d imagine Lucifer being broken and regretful of what he see as his decisions - fuelled by his anger - leading to her death and seeing Satan being created from all that overwhelming anger and pain…he probably saw it as everything he did wrong manifesting in the form of a person. As I said earlier I’m pretty sure Mammon’s the one who raised Satan considering he was the one doing a lot of the heavy lifting during the early days of the fall and Lucifer would only later come to acknowledge Satan, and as far as we know he’s only ever acknowledged that he’s technically Satan’s father twice and by this point after years of the two of them avoiding the topic Satan reacts to that acknowledgment with understandable anger but at some point right at the beginning I’d bet a much younger Satan wanted to be accepted and acknowledged by Lucifer, specially after all the others did so. What I’m trying to say is that MC and Satan’s initial relationships with Lucifer were probably similar too with Lucifer being mostly polite and even somewhat protective over them but also being distant and prickly while he tried to determine whether they were a threat to the rest of his brothers, while they resented him, butted heads with him and wanted to be acknowledged and accepted by him in equal measures after everyone else had already accepted them. Also in S1, specially towards the end, MC making pacts with the brothers became less about freeing Belphie and more about proving something to Lucifer – while Satan always seems to have something to prove to Lucifer. Overall, Satan and MC have a lot of similarities and a severely underrated friendship that I really wanna explore more of – I want them coming to each other for problems that the others won’t understand them having, to talk about the few memories they have of the celestial realm, to diss Lucifer, to talk constantly containing destructive power/anger in them, just I need more of them. Plus would Belphie also have had issues with Satan, initially? I mean imagine your older brother coming to you and saying “so your little sister died in my arms but check out this other kid I just gave birth to”. I dunno Belphie’s grief and anger was irrational thousands of years after Lilith’s death when he blamed her death on the entire human race and you know not the people who actually shot the arrow that killed her (really need to talk about this too), so I can’t even imagine what he would have been like when the loss was still raw and not even a minute after her death Lucifer’s somehow found some new sibling for them.) Right enough rambling. Back to it. Beel says he’s looking for Belphie. Mammon turns up and asks who the shit MC and Satan are, Satan is once again speechless, Asmo’s with Mammon and calls the two of them cuties – poor Satan doesn’t like that one bit. Levi asks for their names and Simeon introduces them – Mammon seems highly suspicious of them, but Asmo accepts it in stride and says ‘Sully’ is an adorable name. Satan looks like he wants to throw hands. Simeon says that he has an idea where Belphie might be and that he & MC will go find him and has asks the others to look after Sully for him. Satan immediately protests but Beel agrees and Levi drags Satan along with them, while Mammon contemplates putting Satan to work to help with whatever they were doing which Satan complains more about (and isn’t this a topsy turvy world), Asmo helps to pull Satan along and Satan screams about where exactly Asmo is putting his hands – Asmo is merely flattered about Satan knowing his name. Satan screams for help as MC and Simeon turn to leave.

Simeon is giggling evilly about Satan’s face when they left him, MC notes he looked happy, Simeon agrees – shocked and freaked out but happy. Simeon said he didn’t leave him back just to be mean but instead because Satan was curious about his brothers’ celestial realm days. MC says “yeah sure you didn’t leave him just to be mean”, Simeon laughs and insists he’s “a nice angel” in the fakest way possible. Simeon says he loves the Celestial Realm air but that this doesn’t feel like the past. MC asks him what past Simeon would be up to – Michael and Lucifer were bossing him around and running him ragged, he says that hasn’t changed since then and that the both of them are sadists at heart who love making things harder for people (Luke vs Simeon’s view of Michael are so different it’s jarring but I also have the picture of someone who looks and acts like Lucifer’s complete opposite with a sweet, sunny personality hiding a cutting, cruel in the same was Lucifer is, even prideful person underneath it all. I just love characters who look and act kind but could and would murder you in cold blood if it benefited their cause),when he wrote TSL – he wrote it after the brother’s left cause he missed them. “No offense to Luke and Satan, who haven’t been born yet but this was the most fun period of my life,” says Simeon to a person who also hasn’t been born yet (also how are angels born? We know that all though there are lots of similarities between the Celestial Realm & the Devildom and Heaven & Hell they aren’t the same places at all, Lucifer refers to God as Father and I’m assuming the other brothers do as well but they’ve said before none of the brothers are actually related to each other, I always assumed God just poofed them into existence. But then how was Luke specifically born? Because it’s heavily implied that Michael is in charge of the Celestial Realm the same way Diavolo is, meaning God – like the Demon King – is probably maybe taking a power nap and Luke is only some hundred years old so he’s probably way after God’s time so how was he and all the newer angels created? I’m 100% sure most of the demons in the Devildom – Diavolo included – were biologically reproduced so did angels learn to do that? Does Luke have parents? But then Raphael saw a normal human party as immoral so, even after so long, I can’t see them promoting sex so then did Michael poof Luke? But if so wouldn’t Luke call Michael Father, the same way Lucifer called God Father? Or is there some cosmic magic energy that poofs out new angels? You guys ever watched that first animated Tinkerbell movie where she was still learning to be a tinker fairy? Remember how she was created? The little dandelion seed that was mixed with that gold glowing fairy dust & magic mixture until it spit out a person? that’s how I imagine OM! Angels are created minus the dandelion part. Swirling unknowable natural magic that mixes with emotions and cosmic matter it draws from its surroundings till it creates an angel.) Simeon makes MC stop and kick a tree as hard as they can (which they do without question) until Belphie falls out.

After Belphie is introduced to MC he asks if they’ve met before and MC very lowkey gaslights him for the sake of the already fucked timeline and Simeon tells him Beel is looking for him. (MC can also tell Belphie they live together and he now considers them a crazy person, unless they are the rat in the attic that’s taken a humanoid form in which case he’s gonna avoid them for the rest of eternity). Belphie says Lucifer had wanted him to do a job but he ‘lol noped’ outta there and now he’s recruiting MC and Simeon to help him with who knows what cause he refuses to explain when MC asks. Belphie is surprised that Simeon has two angels assigned to him and Simeon asks if he’s too much of a low level grunt to be given two angels and Belphie’s like “Dude you’re literally one of the highest ranking people here” and Simeon’s like “oh shit lol we’re in the past” and MC’s absolutely unhinged curiosity and unwillingness to let something go only strikes at the odd moment so they never bother asking how Simeon went from one of the most powerful people in the Celestial Realm to a low level grunt (fucking idiot). Belphie hears Simeon’s oh shit comment and asks what he said, Simeon lies through his teeth and MC comments on angels lying. Simeon gave us the whole white lies speech that our parents gave us at some point. Belphie insists that MC’s familiar and MC suggests in a dream, which Belphie takes cause when you spent most your time asleep reality starts getting warped. Belphie makes Simeon and MC carry 6 blankets, when MC asks what exactly Lucifer made Belphie do he says he made him go get blankets for 6 people & that Lucifer had just given them a list of stuff to get and none of them knew what for. Belphie says that Lucifer’s being gone a lot lately cause the prince of the Devildom keeps calling for him (and so this is definitely after MC’s first visit now and I loved the Devilgram about Lucifer & Diavolo’s first meeting but I need detailed backstory about every meeting since then, about how Lucifer started slowly warming up to Diavolo, how Diavolo was always in awe of him despite how much of a prick he was, how he slowly started doubting the celestial realm and seeing things Diavolo’s way, how he felt like the Celestial Realm was lying to him about how things should be, how he should be and that started building up his resentment and anger that would one day turn into Satan, how he felt more comfortable in the Devildom than he ever had in the celestial realm, how much guilt and anger towards himself all this made feel, I mean all this is briefly touched upon in the devilgram but I need it in depth pls someone come scream at me about this!) Belphie says today is Lucifer’s first free afternoon in a long while. Outside the door they hear Mammon yelling at Satan to catch something.

Outside Levi and Satan are trying to catch fluffy eggs (multi coloured eggs with wings), Levi calls Satan “Sully dear” when he tells him to watch his step which Satan takes great offense to. Satan makes a plan that leads to Levi catching all 6. Asmo comments on how despite just meeting they make a perfect team. They go to the brothers’ secret room where the others were making fluffy egg sandwiches on Lucifer’s orders until Beel let them escape. Beel says he didn’t mean to let them escape cause he only wanted to eat them and Mammon says that’s worse (love to see that Beel’s taken MC’s advice from their previous visit and is not trying to control his snacking). Mammon leaves MC in charge of making sure Beel doesn’t eat the sandwiches and asks Beel when he became so food crazy and he says lately he’s been getting more hungry than normal (I like to think that yeah this is Beel unconsciously following MC’s advice to give in to his urges but also Beel and the rest of the brothers unknowingly already starting their fall into being demons as they become more discontent living in the celestial realm during peacetimes). Satan tells Levi to put only thinner layer of butter on the bread and levi does so, Asmo says that there’s something about MC and ‘Sully’ that makes it feel like despite just meeting them that day it feels like they’ve all known each other much longer (I love how Satan just immediately fits into the group dynamics showing that even though he wasn’t there in the beginning he was always meant to be and how both this and last time MC’s just easily accepted like ‘yeah here’s this weird new angel they’re sticking with us now’). Belphie agrees saying he feels like he’s known them forever. Simeon asks MC and ‘Sully Dear’ if they heard that and that it seems like they all share a special bond. Sully dear takes extreme offense to his new nickname. Asmo tells MC and ‘Sully Dear’ that they’ve now been adopted into the family and that any attempt to resist will be futile. MC tells Asmo that it may not be possible. Belphie’s sad. Beels acts like they didn’t say anything and just repeats that they should stay with them. Mammon adds a ‘forever’ onto the end of that and that Lucifer will make it happen cause there’s nothing he can’t do (do you think if Lucifer stayed in the celestial realm he would have just kept on adopting random misfits and oddballs?). Satan’s daddy issues pop up at the mention of Lucifer and he says that even back then Lucifer was pompous with an over inflated ego (something I like about OM! Is how Satan’s deep issues with Lucifer are never resolved after one wacky adventure. They’re deep and old enough that it’ll take a long time to be fixed but progress is being made after each therapy session with Satan even if there’s the occasional regression. It makes it feel much more real). Satan’s annoyed enough about Lucifer that he doesn’t bother lowering his volume so the brothers end up staring at him silently. Probably shouldn’t have dissed Lucifer in front of people who think he’s the best thing ever. Period. Y’know since sliced bread probably hadn’t been invented at the time. Actually when was sliced bread invented? Wait. July 7 1928. Also apparently sliced bread is banned in the US? Is that true? Oh shit okay I actually read through the article and this happened during WWII and the ban was lifted 3 months later. Also it’s implied the saying “the best thing since sliced bread” originated from Americans pushing back against the ban. Look I don’t wanna start discourse about sliced bread but this one lady wrote to the new york times about how she had to slice 22 pieces of bread everyday to feed her family and like yeah I hate cutting bread too but like damn I’m not gonna write to the papers about it, some people are just so goddamned passionate but then again I don’t need to cut 22 slices of bread everyday – maybe I’d be passionate too in her circumstances)

Mammon, Lucifer’s #1 lil lapdog, says he has no idea what sully’s smoking to be talking about ‘back in these days’ but calling Lucifer ‘pompous with an overinflated ego’ is going too far, Satan’s dumbstruck by Mammon’s betrayal because despite everything Mammon’s always been there ready to badmouth Lucifer. Beel says Lucifer’s a good guy who always thinks about them and does what’s best for them (so it’s the same as now except he doesn’t try to hide all that behind 36 layers of assholery). Belphie says he can be easily misunderstood because he’s cold and blunt. Satan comments on everyone up here loving Lucifer (so it’s the same as now except they don’t try to hide it all behind 36 layers of assholery). Asmo asks why they wouldn’t love him when he’s their ‘beautiful, strong big brother’ and that they’re all proud of him (guys Satan’s seconds away from losing his shit and this is the last chapter dbksnkdsjksdnk next lesson the entire Celestial Realm gets reduced to rubble as Satan goes on a rampage rip). Levi says Lucifer looks after him even though he’s totally useless (he says it so casually too I don’t know whether to laugh or cry). Asmo & Belphie says they don’t know how well Sully knows Lucifer but if he knew him properly it’ll be impossible not to love him (honestly that’s true I hated him till we started learning more about him and now he’s my second favourite character! Guess who’s my first, I bet you can’t!). Satan’s absolutely dumbfounded by the suggestion. Simeon agrees with them saying it’s time to mend fences and maybe Satan can take the first step. Satan seems upset, realising that Simeon left him with the brothers in the hopes that they’d get through to him about Lucifer but then he gets pissed demanding if Simeon set up this whole journey to the past thing. Simeon denies it and tells satan to calm his tits. But Satan’s on a role now, asking if he’s doing it for the status, if he gets Satan and Lucifer to work things out he’ll get prestige amongst the angels which honestly makes no sense but anger rarely makes you rational so whatever. He goes on to ask if Simeon hoped he could control Satan, the same way Lucifer does (and hoo boy the issues. I like to imagine MC’s contemplating jumping out the window right about now.) Simeon tries to deny all of this but is cut off by Satan saying that Simeon thinks Satan needs to understand where Lucifer’s coming from and how he’s not so bad but that Satan doesn’t like Simeon telling him what to do and that he can’t believe Simeon created a whole illusion just to get what he wanted. And then he’s screaming about how if Lucifer is so precious to Simeon he should try being “Lucifer’s sweet, obedient little brother” (to be fair the idea of being micromanaged by your father who doesn’t even want to admit to being your father is very shudder inducing). The brothers obviously where no idea what the fuck is going on (MC has created a rope by tying blankets together and is now rappelling down through the window), Levi stutters and asks what Sully’s talking about, Beel asks if he and Lucifer have history, Satan looks shocked and sad for a second before he storms out (probably not a good idea considering what he is, where they are and when they are). Asmo seems upset he left, Mammon seems agitated and wonders wtf his deal was. Simeon says he hadn’t meant to set him off like that and that after all of MC’s therapy sessions Satan would have been more open to talking about everything but that he realises that Satan’s progressing at his own pace. MC knowing their job is never over (climbs back up through the window) offers to go after him. Simeon thanks them and says he feels terrible and will apologise but to spare Simeon’s head being ripped from his shoulders MC really should go smooth things over first. They find Satan in the woods looking sad and ask if he’s okay, he doesn’t reply. They can either hug him or take his hand. Hugging leads to a kiss there’s no choice (whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy let MC hug their friends and give the option to kiss or not instead of them both being to kiss). They sit silently together under the trees, holding hands and looking up at the Celestial Palace and this is the sweetest type of silent understanding that I love. After Satan’s calmed down he says MC can leave and go back to the others now. Just before they can answer they are confronted by Lucifer who asks them who they are and what they’re doing there. And that’s the end :))))))))))))))) Next Lesson’s either gonna be a long ass therapy session or a full out street fight can’t wait

#obey me spoilers #obey me #obey me!#swd obey me #my posts #my theories #shall we date? obey me!#obey me shall we date

15 notes · View notes

kitty-cat-is-back · 4 years ago

Text

What Am I Doing with My Life? Chapter 1

Pairing: Sero Hanta x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first fic, so I hope you guys like it! If I’m being honest, I have no idea what this is currently or what this is going to turn into, but this is just a very self indulgent fic, so I’m sorry if this isn’t for you! Definitely my inspiration to even take a crack at writing a fic is @reinawritesbnha, so you should definitely check her out cause her fics are wayyyyy better than whatever you’re gonna read now! Anyways, I’m terrible at writing summaries, so just have a quick read for yourself and see if you like it! Oh, also this is a real world au, so no powers for any of the characters! ANYWAYS, I hope you like it! :)

Warnings: signs of depression, a hint of angst (idk)

BEEP

With a groan, you rolled over and aimlessly searched for your phone, promptly shutting off your alarm. A sigh escaped your lips as you stared up at the cracked ceiling, already hearing the loud stomping of your upstairs neighbor so early in the morning. You gazed out the window, staring at the luxurious view of the brick wall from the building next to your apartment, anything to prolong starting the day. Once you didn’t think you could hold off any longer on getting ready, so you dragged your body up and out of bed, mosing into the bathroom as you pondered the same question you did everyday: What am I doing with my life?

You didn’t feel like you were sad per se, but you certainly weren’t thrilled about life. Everyday felt like a rut… Wake up, work, eat, sleep, and repeat. You honestly can’t remember that last time you really felt happy. Well… Maybe back then…

You walked into the classroom early groggily, the sun had barely even risen in the sky. The room was mostly empty, spare a boy sitting at his desk, looking much too mischievous this early in the morning. You placed your stuff at your desk and gave yourself a small pep talk in your head. Today was the day you were finally going to do it. With a few more words of your own encouragement, you slowly approached the boy’s desk, gaining a closer look at what he was doing. Curiosity getting the better of you, you pushed your mission aside and started off with some simple small talk.

“What are you doing?” you asked, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

The lanky boy with shaggy black hair and an infectious smile averted his gaze away from his creation to peer up at you. He grinned cheekily before looking back down and pulling more tape from the dispenser to add to the mass he had already formed, “Making a tape ball.”

You tilted your head in confusion before hesitantly asking, “...A tape ball? What for?”

He shrugged, “Dunno yet… Probably gonna throw it at Kaminari during 4th period. We’ll see how I’m feeling,” he stated, wrapping more and more tape around the sticky monstrosity.

You hummed in response, attempting to hide your smile at his antics, even though his attention was solely placed on creating the tape ball. A silence fell over the two of you as you continued to watch him, rocking back and forth on your feet nervously. Just spit it out already! This was your chance! You ceased your rocking and promptly cleared your throat, “Hanta!”

The boy’s brows shot up at the exclamation and turned away from his abomination, giving you his full attention. He just now noticed the makeup adorning your face, something he’s positive he’s never seen you wear before, but can recognize the effort you put into it. His cheeks flushed at his prolonged staring at your beauty and finally stammered out, “Y-Yes?”

This was it. You balled up your fists and tensed up, almost as if preparing for impact, “A-Are… Are you… Are you busy… this weekend…?” you asked, unsure of the words.

Hanta relaxed a bit, though still a bit on edge as to why you were acting so awkward all of a sudden, “Oh, that’s it? No, I’m not particularly busy,” he pondered aloud, “Probably just gonna hang with the squad… Hey, you can join us if you want to! I’ve been dying to properly introduce you to them! I mean, they all know you from around school, but they don’t like… know you know you, y’know?”

You visibly deflated, your mind racing to figure out how to remedy this problem, “I told you… I don’t think your friends would like me. I’m so awkward around new people, I would probably just embarrass you… B-But that wasn’t what I meant!” you paused and took a breath, mentally preparing yourself, “I was trying to ask if you wanted to go on a da-”

Your words were cut off by your friend walking into the classroom. They spotted you and quickly made their way over towards you, “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you! C’mon, we’re gonna go chill in the cafeteria before classes start!” your friend said as they tugged on your arm.

Your mind went into panic mode, glancing frantically between your friend and Hanta, “N-No… Wait! I was just-”

You were cut off once again, “Just finished talking? Great!” your friend said, pulling harder on your arm, “Bye Hanta! I’m sure you guys can catch up later!” they said before successfully pulling you out of the room, leaving behind a confused Hanta.

Once having exited the classroom, your friend let out a disgusted scoff, “How many times do we have to tell you? No. Hanging. With. Hanta. It’s really that simple. That whole friend group of his is no good!”

Your shoulders slumped and your face fell into a frown, “There’s nothing wrong with Hanta… Just because Mina ghosted you after a hookup doesn’t mean the whole group is-”

“Oh. My. GOD. I told you not to ring up the ‘incident’ again! You know it makes me upset!” they said with a huff. They shook it off, “Whatever, but that doesn’t matter! I won’t have my best friend hanging out with those losers and then ultimately getting your heart broken when they don’t want you anymore! So you either listen to me and stop hanging around that guy or we’re not friends anymore.”

This felt like one of those moments in your life where the decision you make would drastically alter your life. You had a choice of two paths and whatever you chose, you couldn’t go back and try again. You stayed silent as you weighed out your options.

“Hellooo?? I’m waiting!”

“Hello? Are you even listening to me?!”

“Hello?”

“Hello? Are you ok?”

You snapped out of your reminiscing and looked up to see your office assistant giving you a concerned look. You started rapidly blinking in confusion, wondering how in the world your body had managed to take you all the way to work without dying while you were caught up in a daydream. You let out a heavy breath and leaned back in your chair, “Yea…” you started, “Yea, I’m fine. I just… didn’t get much sleep last night is all…” you said with a little bit of conviction.

Your office assistant nodded, definitely not convinced, “Right… Anyways, I guess now seems like a good time to bring this up. Your twelve o’clock appointment called and cancelled. That was the only patient you had scheduled, so I think you should take this opportunity and take the day off. In the year that you’ve been working here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take time off for yourself. You may not think it, but even psychologists need mental health days,” they joked, trying to lighten up the somber atmosphere of your office.

You rubbed the back of your neck, desperately racking your brain to come up with a reason to stay at work. If you were working, you weren’t thinking and if you weren’t thinking, you were better off that way. You opened your mouth to start spilling out excuses, “Well…”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. I know every single thing you’re about to say and I’m not having it today. I’ll stay and do some work around the office and answer phone calls if needed. You may be my boss, but I’m ordering you to take the day off. You deserve it. You need it.”

You sighed and hung your head. There was no getting out of this. You held your hands up in defeat, “Alright, alright, I give. I’ll take the day off. You win…” you grumbled. After a victorious cheer from your assistant, you packed up your stuff and headed out of the office. Now that you were alone again, you were left with nothing but your own thoughts.

Maybe your assistant was right about this whole day off thing. I mean, remembering back on your high school days? If you’re starting to believe that you peaked mid-way through high school, you must be going crazy. But… You felt like you were kind of right about one decision drastically changing your life. One choice led you down a path that you couldn’t escape and were forced to keep walking down, no matter how many times you wanted to walk back and find your way again. Maybe you wouldn’t be here if you had chosen a different path, or maybe nothing would’ve changed at all. It doesn’t make sense to wonder about it now. The choice was made and nothing can be undone.

Getting lost in your thoughts again, your body still magically transporting you from one place to the next, you missed out on the man chasing you through the bustling streets of the city, calling out your name like a madman. He pushed through the crowds of people walking in the opposite direction of him, mumbling out apologies every few seconds. He finally managed to make his way to you and grabbed your wrist to gain your attention,

“(Y/N)!”

You snapped out of your thoughts for the second time that day and whipped around to see the boy you knew long ago, but he had turned into a man. Your eyes became wide as your jaw dropped in disbelief, somehow managing to stutter out,

“H-Hanta!?”

#hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #hanta x reader #mha sero #mha #bnha #sero #bnha fanfiction #sero hanta #bnha imagines

101 notes · View notes

tf2-parqcxsm · 4 years ago

Text

Scout x Reader: For Too Long

You repeatedly tapped your pen on the table, biting your lower lip as you thought about what to put on the paper that was laid out right in front of you. "Alright, well, Pyro had some strange stuff in his closet, but I guess I'll consider it." You uttered, and proceeded to mark the box next to Pyro's name. You were one of the Administrator's assistants, and your job was to check the mercenaries' rooms to see if they have any suspicious equipment. You have to admit, it was boring, but you can't complain either. You did develop some interesting relationships with the team, anyway.

Placing your pen down, you stretched out your arms and laid back further on your chair, relieved that you finally finished what you have to do for today. Your body felt numb, all because you walked through the bases, which are also extremely huge and are separated in a far distance. A long sigh escaped your lips, "Finally. I can rest." You were supposed to close your eyes, until a loud knock interrupted your relaxed moment.

The noise immediately caused you to stand up from your chair and walk towards the door. There wasn't anyone else in the office — except for Miss Pauling and the Administrator — to suddenly come up on your door, so you had no choice but to quickly answer the door.

You fixed yourself before opening the door, and to no surprise, you were faced with your boss. "Ah! What can I help you with, ma'am?" You forced yourself to flash a small smile. Don't wanna look gloomy now, do we? The puff of smoke from the Administrator's cigarette somehow made its way to your nose, and you simply covered your face with your hand. "We need to talk, Miss (Y/n)." She spoke, while her gaze was away from yours. The solemnity in her voice made your stomach swirl. You knew you wouldn't like what she was going to say next, you didn't know what triggered her but all you know is that it was probably something you did. You gritted your teeth and furrowed your eyebrows, "U-Uh— Sure. Would you like to come in or—?"

"We can talk here."

"Ri- Right…"

You closed the door behind you and stood up straight, waiting for the Administrator to speak up once again. "Miss (Y/n), how long have you been here?" She raised a question that filled your head with confusion. She knows the answer, and yet she asks you this question. However, you still answered, not wanting to irritate the woman in front of you. "Um, I've been here for three years, ma'am." You responded formally. Clenching your fists, your arms stayed at your sides. The Administrator walked towards the window, which was at the opposite side of your room, and spoke whilst her back was onto you.

"In those three years, what have you done?" She questioned again. Your eyes followed her figure, but you stayed at where you were. "Well, I go around the bases on a daily basis to see if the mercenaries are keeping anything in secret." You could have sworn to yourself that you saw her turn head on a slight angle. You could feel her intense gaze, even when she isn't looking directly at you.

"What else?"

You thought for a few seconds, bringing up your hand to your chin, "Oh! I often substitute Miss Pauling whenever she's busy with…other business." You explained, the last part of your statement sounding rather unsure. Maybe tuning your voice like that was a bad idea, as the Administrator fully turned around to you with a displeased expression on her face. "And that's it? You've done nothing else?" She creepily walked towards you as she spoke, causing you to take a step backward. Anxiety crawled up to your veins as you caught a glimpse of her eyes. "I, uh— Yes, ma'am." You stammered between your sentences, in fear that she might slap you out of nowhere.

But she didn't. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at you. She backed up and dropped her cigarette on the ground, stepping on it to get rid of the smoke. "Miss (Y/n), did you forget that we have cameras all over this place?" She questioned you again. "Huh?" You blabbered, genuinely confused by her sudden questioning. You didn't know how to respond, you simply stood there with a puzzled look on your face. She hummed at your stance, the corner of her lips perking up. "We know everything. We watch everything."

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. You felt like you were being choked by some kind of invisible force. "Well, maybe except for your room. That would be an invasion of privacy." The Administrator interrupted your running thoughts as she walked past towards you, making you tense up your shoulders. She stopped right behind you while you were contemplating the situation.

"So, from this day onward, you will be forbidden to visit the bases."

Did you just hear that correctly? You immediately turned your head towards her, waving your hands everywhere as you couldn't understand her motivation behind this. "But- I don't- May I ask why?" You were extremely in shock that you couldn't get your sentences right. The world felt like it was breaking down to pieces, the gray color replacing the rainbows that once scattered around your vision. "Why?" She repeated your question and turned around, looking directly at you with such seriousness. "Because you've been distracting the mercenaries!" She yelled, finally breaking her formal gestures and speaking. "Especially your little sly boyfriend." You gasped at what she said.

"Bo- Boyfriend?"

Oh.

Scout.

Realization struck through you. "Wha- Ma'am, it isn't what you think!" You tried to make up an excuse. It was true that you have some feelings for the youngest mercenary in the team, but having the Administrator find out what you've been doing just for him for the past few years will get you real trouble. You couldn't bear the thought. "No, no more excuses. I've had enough." She breathed in and out, calming her senses. "That's all. You can get back to work." She simply stated, walking away and leaving you utterly broken.

But she stopped in her tracks, saying one last thing before she leaves the scene, "Oh, and,"

"Miss Pauling will exchange jobs with you."

She walked away sassily. All sorts of emotions burst through you, causing you to immensely tremble. You knew Scout had a huge crush on Miss Pauling before, what if it comes back now? You'll lose your chance. Oh god, you can't even accept the fact that this whole thing is happening. You won't even be able to see the other mercenaries! They were like your best friends.

You felt a tear drop from your cheek. You quickly wiped it away to avoid anyone from seeing your weakness. Afterwards, you quickly returned to your room, letting out all your tears as you weep on your bed.

Little did you know that Miss Pauling saw the whole thing happen. Watching from a corner.

The Next Day

"Oh, hey, Miss Pauling!" Scout greeted the purple-wearing lady as she entered the base. "Hi, Scout." She greeted back with a weak smile. The young man looked around the surroundings, as if he's looking for something — or someone — specific. He scratched his head, "That's kinda weird. Usually, it be (Y/n) who comes around by this time." Miss Pauling nervously laughed at his statement and gripped her clipboard tightly. "Ah, well— We're just switching jobs for a bit. She got a lot of work from the Administrator." She waved her hand in front of her neck, implying that she could get killed if she told him the actual reason.

Scout got the sign but interpreted it wrongly. He first raised a finger, his eyes narrowed and mouth slightly agape. His eyebrows then raised and his eyes widened as soon as he realized what she was trying to say. "Ohh, right, right!" He finger gunned at her, and she merely nodded in response. They both agreed on something they didn't even get the message correctly. "Well, uh, why don't ya check my room first?" He pointed behind his back with his thumb. "Sure." Miss Pauling accepted his offer with a smile. Scout led the way to his room, skipping over the way as the black-haired lady trailed behind.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. Miss Pauling quickly checked around his room — it was unsurprisingly messy — and marked off Scout's name on the clipboard she has been holding. "Seems like you've got nothing suspicious hidden." She remarked, turning around just to see the young man scavenging through his closet. "Uh, Scout?" She called out for him. He didn't even bother to look up or hum at least, and it caused Miss Pauling to approach him to take a closer look at what he's doing.

"Aha! Found it!" He cheered as he raised his arms with a pen in hand. "It's a…pen." Miss Pauling spoke in an uninterested tone. Scout waved the pen, "Hell yea it is! I borrowed it from (Y/n), actually, and I was gunna give it back to her today, buuut only you came." He approached Miss Pauling with a pleading smile and lent the pen to her. "Maybe ya can give to back to her?"

Miss Pauling snickered at his gestures. "Sure. I'll stop by her room later." She took the pen from his hand, taking a quick scan of the item. It was a simple-looking pen with a cap, the ink almost drained out and the ends look like they've been scratched intensely. She couldn't understand how it happened but here she is, with your pen in hand. When she took her gaze away from the item, Scout was grinning widely like an idiot. He suddenly took her into a tight hug for a quick moment and put her down afterwards, nearly leaving her breathless. "Thanks, Miss Pauling! You da best!" Scout gave her a thumbs up as his wide grin stayed on his face, Miss Pauling did the same thing but with a more distressed expression.

Later that day, she actually stopped by your room to give back your pen. She knew you had a lot of spare pens to use, so she didn't see why she still had to give this to you, but she could see that you were lonely and wanted to check on you, at least. You quickly answered the door once she knocked, and you were actually surprised that the dorkiest person you've known for the entire time that you've worked here would actually give back something you never really thought of. You merely thanked your co-worker and went back to work, Miss Pauling got extremely concerned when she saw the depressed look on your face.

She had to do something.

Several Weeks Later

Another day, another chance to sulk in your room. You were getting bored with the current job you had, all you had to do was watch the battle immense and take down notes. Where's the fun in that? The only people you could talk to was Miss Pauling and the Administrator, and nothing interesting ever really comes up in your conversations. You already missed the enormous laughter and screaming voices of the 9 men you loved wholeheartedly. It gets you sad every time you think of them.

Meanwhile, Miss Pauling was once again in the base, checking everyone's room for any suspicious equipment. She decided to visit Scout last, as she didn't know how to confront him in case he asks where the hell you are.

But this day was different.

Scout was acting strangely. Too strangely. He was silent the entire time Miss Pauling searched throughout his room, with his arms crossed against his chest and leaned on one of his desks. She got worried and questioned what was bothering him, "Scout? Are you okay? You've been quiet."

His lips almost immediately turned into a thin line, his eyebrows furrowing. Miss Pauling sighed, the expression on his face making her feel uneasy. "Scout, are you—"

"Where the heck is (Y/n)?"

And boom. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew he would ask one day, but for some reason, she wasn't prepared for this moment. Nervously, she spoke, "Scout, I can't tell you that."

"And why not?!"

"Because we're being watched!"

Silence fell through the room. It wasn't normal for the lady to shout in conversations, and even Scout himself was shocked at the event. Miss Pauling rubbed the bridge of her nose and took a heavy sigh before looking up again, "Scout, look, I really want to clear your questions and all, but I just can't tell you. Alright?" The young man frowned at her response. He brought his gaze away from her and stared hard at the ground. It's been so long since the last time he saw (Y/n), he's getting mildly worried and wanted to ask Miss Pauling where she was, but all he got was refusal of an answer. Even the other men were getting worried about the lady whose bright smile would make up their day in an instant.

And Miss Pauling knows all of that. She wasn't dumb, she took notice of their actions and frequently received questions about her friend. A sigh once again escaped her lips, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her clipboard, and started writing.

Scout didn't notice as he was too focused on keeping his attention away from the lady. He doesn't like her anymore, was she trying to get him back when it's already too late? His thoughts were cut off when Miss Pauling suddenly took his hand and put something in it, "Don't tell anybody. And don't do anything stupid." She whispered quietly to him, she immediately backed away from him and left the room without saying a single word.

Scout blinked multiple times before setting his attention on whatever Miss Pauling just gave him. It was a piece of paper, and was almost crumpled. He carefully opened it with his bandage-wrapped hands, and what he read made his jaw drop and immediately regret those thoughts he had earlier.

He should have known.

Some Time Later

"BLU team, the intelligence has been captured! Retrieve it now!" The Administrator shouted into the microphone, alerting the team and causing everyone to move quickly. You stood there beside her, with a clipboard and pen in hand. Specifically, you were using the pen that Miss Pauling gave you, the one that Scout borrowed. You missed him and the others, and just wanted to at least bring one piece of memory that could cheer you up as you watched the battle through the screens.

You saw Scout run through Tuefort, a frown on your face. Even with him visible across the screen, you couldn't help but feel a little bit of sadness in your heart. He was the one, and you knew that, and the Administrator took it all away. You couldn't blame her either, though.

A knock on the door somehow echoed throughout the room. Both you and the Administrator turned your heads around to the sound, but you made it up for her, "I'll go get it."

She nodded and went back to announcing alerts for the teams, as you quickly jogged to the door and grabbed the doorknob, expecting to see Miss Pauling or, perhaps, Mister Hale. That guy is crazy but who else would disturb his assistants when there's a battle going on? You took a quick breath before completely opening the door and putting on a fake smile, "Hello, how can I—"

"Hey, (Y/n)!"

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropped, and you even nearly dropped the objects you were holding. "Whoa, okay there. Is just me, sweet buns." Scout spread his arms for reassurance, but you stood there completely shocked at what you were seeing.

"(Y/n), who's there?"

You turned around nervously at the sound of the Administrator's voice, thankfully she was still facing the screens, but still, you couldn't let her know that one of the mercenaries was in the office! You will get screwed! And worse, him! "Um, it's just, uh, Miss Pauling! She's asking some questions and I'll be helping her for a few minutes!" You spitted out a lie, if you had to be honest, you didn't know if it would work.

But it did. The Administrator trusted your words, even with that tone in your voice, and let you off easy. "Okay, make it quick."

"Yes, ma'am!" After responding to her simple command, you immediately closed the door and grabbed Scout's wrist, taking him somewhere else as you didn't want your upcoming disastrous conversation to be overheard by anyone. You ended up dragging him — he was wincing and begging you to slow down — in a storage space and that's where you bursted out. "Scout, what are you doing here?! Actually, how are you here?! Who's in the battlefield?!" Your hand gestures just showed how shocked you are at this moment. Scout waved his hand to shake off the pain and merely grinned at your questions, "It was Spy! Cool, ain't it?"

Was he flexing? He was flexing. You took a palm to your face and sighed, "Of course it was Spy."

"Hey, at least I got here!"

You looked at him with disappointment, your hands running over your hair and your face scrunching up. "No, Scout, you can't be here. You know that! Both you and I will get screwed if the Administrator finds out!" You were practically yelling at this point, you still couldn't believe the boy of your dreams somewhat managed to get here, how else were you supposed to react? Even Miss Pauling would be devastated at the sight of him being here. Scout noticed the emotions you were emitting and frowned, "Come on now, it's been far too long, (Y/n)." The change in his tone made you ease up a little bit. Your arms dropped at your sides as you listened to what he had to say.

"Actually, I just wanted to see ya— But, uh, the other dudes missed ya too!" He was shifting and blushing furiously, his ears were flushing red as his eyes were going everywhere except at you. You were speechless. You didn't know what to say. Did he really escape the battle just to see you? Would you even be able to believe that? What if it was a Spy who was trying to make you feel all sorts of emotions?

No, it can't be. Spy was too old for you. "Scout, I, I didn't— I wasn't expecting to—"

"To see me here? Yeah, me either."

Scout cut you off before you even got to finish what you were trying to say, he continued to ramble about his journey all the way here. One part included that he had to beg to Engineer for making a teleporter but he was rejected by the Texan. You heard everything he said, but you just couldn't speak up. He is right in front you, weren't you supposed to feel happy? Didn't you want to see him?

You didn't know what to feel and just cried off at the spot, bringing your hands to your face. The young man immediately stopped his gibberish talking as soon as he heard you sob, and he panicked, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, chill! Did I say something wrong or what?!" He tried to hold your arms for comfort, but he was afraid he would scare you. His eyebrows furrowed in worry as he saw your tears fall off your cheeks. "Dammit, Scout! I've missed you so much!" You wailed as your hands stayed on your face. Another sob escaped your lips. The heartbreaking sound ripping out Scout's sense of hearing and tearing his heart apart. He couldn't bare to see you like this.

He sighed, "I- I missed you too, (Y/n)." He shyly spoke, averting his gaze away from you even though you had your eyes covered. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "No, to be honest? I really wanted to see you. Shit, maybe I did this because I love you."

"Huh?" You put away your hands and looked at Scout in confusion. You still had tears falling off from your face, but you came to your senses. His face was so red to the point he looked like a tomato, "Eh, well, I mean— I loved you! I mean, I love you right now, but like— I just— Ugh, whatever." His sentences came in stutters as he was too embarrassed by what he just said, he had his head lowered in defeat. But you didn't care. You thought it was cute, actually. For once, a genuine happy smile crept to your face. You embraced him into a tight hug and cried into his chest, this time they were tears of joy.

Scout was shocked at your action and didn't move an inch. He was hesitant if he should hug you back, but sooner or later, you felt his arms around you. It made you feel safe and happy, and you didn't want to let go.

"I love you too, Scout."

Extra Scene

The sun shone through the windows of the base, setting off shadows of various shapes and adding a warm glow to the large area. Scout walked through the hallways to the dining area with a cheeky grin on his face. The other mercenaries noticed this as he sat down, starting to munch down on his food without saying a word.

Sniper raised an eyebrow at his change of mood, "Ya seem lively today, mate."

"Yeah, yesterday was awesome!"

Spy remembered what he had to do with him and groaned in frustration. Soldier slammed his hands on the table, causing the utensils to shake vigorously due to his force, and pointed a finger aggressively at the young man. "Did you get a girlfriend or what?!"

"I did!"

Their eyes widened at his answer. "I…I was not expecting that kind of answer!" Soldier announced as he sat back down. Scout grinned cockily at them, amused about the fact that they couldn't believe a word he said. "You guys don't believe me? Her name is—"

"Hey, guys?"

They all turned their heads to the door, and there you were. "(Y/n)!" Scout stood up from his seat and ran towards you, bringing you to a hug.

"IT'S (Y/N)?!" The other mercenaries shouted in disbelief. You looked at them in confusion, but soon realized what they were saying. Bringing your gaze to your newly found love, you gasped, "Scout, you told them?!"

He grinned at you, "How can I not? I want to flex to them my beautiful girl." He poked your nose, making you giggle. The 8 men watched you two lovebirds, a frown on their faces except for Pyro who was clapping happily for the new couple.

It was kind of embarrassing to know that the Administrator did find out about you two, though.

#a bit long but it's ok #actually it's really long #tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 fanfic #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 x reader #scout x reader

100 notes · View notes

fanficflaneuse · 4 years ago

Text

One Day - Part 9

A/N: Hello, magical tumblr friends! We’ve reached part 9! I can’t believe it. Thanks for sticking with me through this wild ride. Thing are getting really good here. Today I realized I have like 70 of them. Can you believe it? I never expected to have followers lol. Thank you all.

For this chapter, all I want to say is that I don’t hate Astoria. I really don’t. Thank you for your turkish telenovela plot twist ideas lol, I’m definitely going to write something in that fashion sooner or later.

Also, the novel I’m referring to (both in with the quote and the comments) is called “Normal People” by Sally Rooney. If you haven’t read it, I very enthusiastically recommend it. I couldn’t put it down. And now I can’t stop thinking about reader and Draco’s relationship to be a bit like theirs (better written and without a lot of the tragic subtext, of course).

Anyway, let’s do this!

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 1874 Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist

Enjoy!

3 May, 2007

“You really don’t want to sleep, do you?” Draco cooed at his son.

“Da-da,” the eight-month-old baby babbled as he made grabby hands at his father. The blond man melted and took his toddler out of the crib, cradling him in his arms.

“What am I going to do with you, Scorp?” he asked as he nuzzled his nose. The boy giggled in response.

Draco tried to be the most loving father. Whenever he wasn’t at the hospital, he was pampering his son, playing with him and making him feel loved. Draco lived for Scorpius’ cute little chortles and he vowed to do everything in his power to keep his son laughing without a care in the world.

The day Draco held Scorpius for the first time, he was invaded by a bliss he had never experienced before. Draco realized that he had finally done something good. He had helped create a little person, a pure and wonderful little person. He, Draco thought, was his second chance in life. Even if the nightmares and the guilt still haunted him, Scorpius’ tiny self reassured him. And so, the boy became his everything.

This week, though, Draco had to admit he was exhausted. Astoria had moved to the Greengrass estate for a few days to take care of her sick mother.

“Nothing too scandalous,” she had explained when he asked about the symptoms, “but she still needs her daughters’ care”.

If Draco had noticed something suspicious in the defensive tone she adopted, he said nothing of it. Astoria’s family emergency left him alone to take care for their toddler. Since she hated every minute of living under the same roof as Narcissa and Lucius, they had moved to a flat in muggle London. His parents hadn’t yet forgiven him for that. Throughout the week, it was Molly Weasley who had come to his aid. Much to her delight, she took care of Scorpius – as well as her grandchildren – while he worked. As he did his rounds, though, his son was in the back of his mind. Scorpius had never been without at least one of his parents before and Draco hated the idea of him thinking he had been abandoned. He’d floo back and forth from the hospital to the Burrow only to find a very smiling Scorpius crawling around with Albus and Rosie.

Thankful as he was for Molly’s help, the whole ordeal drained him. He was working double shifts and then going to their empty apartment to feed his son and play with him before he could even think about hitting the sack.

Regardless of this, every time Astoria owled him he insisted it was fine. Ever since he found out Astoria was pregnant, Draco made an extra effort with their relationship. Even before Scorpius, they had turned cold and awkward with each other, but Draco loved and cared for Astoria and by Merlin did he try. He was gentle and kind, he took her out for dates, asked with genuine curiosity about her day, bought her gifts and was as accommodating as he could possibly be. She had an agitated social life, with weekend getaways with her friends and constant dinner dates with her sister, but even if at times it meant sacrificing his own social life, he wouldn’t complain. Draco could even say they were happy.

At times like these, however, he couldn’t help the intrusive thought of what all of it would all look like with (Y/N) by his side. He’d supress those ideas immediately, thinking about how Astoria was the best mother Scorpius could ever have. Yet, an overwhelming sense of how incredibly plastic and sterile his relationship with Astoria was would still linger for a while, filling him with dread. He’d then try to push it back and shower their son with as much love as he could possible give him.

Tired as he was, Draco realized it was very late. Scorpius was still giggling in his arms. As he sat in the library, Draco grabbed (Y/N)’s latest book in one hand and held his son cautiously with both arms.

“I’m going to read this novel to you, young man,” he said, “And you’ll understand none of it. But hopefully I can enjoy it for a while and you’ll fall asleep. Deal?”

Scorpius’s glimmering eyes lit the world for Draco. He kissed his son’s forehead before starting to read out loud:

“Sometimes she felt like saying: Would you miss me, if you didn’t have me anymore?” Draco gulped before continuing, “She had asked him that once on the ghost estate, when they were just kids. He had said yes then, but she’d been the only thing in his life at that time, the only thing he had to himself, and it would never be that way again”

As he carried on, he couldn’t help but think that this novel was written just for him to read. It was, after all, about two friends whose relationship status changes throughout the years. He felt his heart heavy, wondering if (Y/N) ever thought about him not caring for her. Because he did. He cared for her very much. And he missed her. She had been living in Paris for the last four months and she’d come every now and then, but he still missed her. At times, he felt like he always missed her, even if they were in the same room.

“I did choose your godmother well, didn’t I Scorp? You’ll be nothing if not a well-educated, perhaps even a bit snobbish, lad,” he teased.

Much to his satisfaction, Draco noticed how his son was now peacefully sleeping in his arms. He walked to the nursery and put him on the crib, leaving the door ajar just in case. As he was about to crawl into bed, Draco heard a crash on the living room. He grabbed his wand and hurried out, determined to protect his son.

“Leave now, please,” he heard a hushed, almost panicky, voice say.

As he reached the living room, Draco faced something he never thought he would. A wide-eyed Astoria stood in the middle of the room. She was giving her back to him and, instead, faced none other than Theo Nott, Draco’s old classmate. He had a determined glint in his eyes.

As Astoria turned around to face him, Draco noticed a sense of complicity between the two of them. He gulped, realizing what was going on. The blond man blinked tears back as he noticed his wife sported a series of love bites he had certainly not printed on her skin. They were both dishevelled, lips a bit swollen. Draco also realized Astoria was wearing a man’s sweater.

“Draco, it’s not what –“

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while, mate. I love Tori. We’re happy together and I am tired of hiding,” Theo’s deep voice interrupted her.

“Draco,” Astoria said, her voice sounded muffled, as though they were underwater, “Draco, listen to me.”

Draco stared at his wife as though she was a total stranger. The shock made him experience everything in slow motion, to the point in which he only realized he was actually crying when Astoria tried to wipe the tears. Draco pushed her away very softly, barely even touching her, and just turned on his heels. He stumbled towards his room, scantily registering what was going on around him.

For a second there he thought he was dreaming. He closed the door and put up a charm. Draco collapsed on the bed and finally heard himself sob. His heart felt genuinely broken. He heard the knocks on the door. Draco picked on Astoria’s conversation with Theo, maybe they were even fighting, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t care either.

As many times before, Draco felt empty, small and pathetic. And, as many times before, his thoughts went to (Y/N), wishing she was there to console him.

…

On the other side of the English Channel, possessed by coffee induced jitters, (Y/N) sat wide awake in her library. It was late and she was very tired, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She decided to read Hermione’s letter, which she had postponed for a couple of days already.

Dearest (Y/N/N),

Four months gone and I still cannot believe you’re living in Paris. What a dream! I am really happy for you, dear. We have all agreed that a change of ambience could benefit you greatly, even if it means we won’t be able to enjoy your presence as much. Don’t make our great sacrifice of depriving us of your company be in vain. Remember you’re in the city of love, so you better not be glooming on your desk all day.

All jokes aside, please take care of yourself, (Y/N/N). I would be lying if I didn’t say I’m worried. Molly is worried. Even Ron – at times so daft and oblivious – is worried. Sleep well. Eat at regular times. Don’t overthink…too much. This whole poète maudit behaviour might be very fancy and bohemian, but it is, without a doubt, unhealthy. And we all want you – no, we need you – healthy and happy.

Lovely, I devoured your latest novel. It is an absolute hit. It feels so…so real, so visceral and heart-breaking. I cried thinking about how much of it is inspired by your real-life experiences. I have never met someone who experiences life the way you do, someone who has this way of conciliating the world through words. My heart goes to you, (Y/N), along with my admiration. I hope distance can mend your heart, so you can finally write some lighter poetry, like you did when we were children.

I am very busy with work, looking forward for a promotion over the next couple of weeks. With Ron we have also been talking about the possibility of having more children. As an only child, I would love my Rosie to grow up with someone by her side, although I must say she’s practically attached at the hip with Albus and Scorpius. However, I still cannot decide, you know? I feel like my ever-growing responsibilities at the ministry might get in the way of me giving my child – and potential other children – the attention they deserve. I do not think I could adapt as easily as Ginny did. She is doing great at her new post, by the way. But I do not see myself anywhere else. I know maternity is far removed from your reality right now, but I would love to know what you think about this. I already know Ginny’s perspective. I also talked about it with Molly and my own mom. I have read a couple of books as well.

Anyway, I will not bother you anymore. Please write back whenever you see fit. Do not isolate, (Y/N). We are all here for you. We miss you. We cannot wait for you to come. As soon as we have vacations, we will visit you as well. I am hoping for the day in which we can finally stroll together through all of those bookshops in Paris – muggle and magic.

Love,

‘Mione.

tags: @fandomscombine @okaydraco @naomi02hook @iliketoast23 @hopplessdreamer @winnsmills @oldfashionedlovergirlsblog @animelover09556 @happycomb @xtrashmouthxtozierx

90 notes · View notes

adcres · 4 years ago

Text

howdy hey , pardnerrrs :> i’m rox ( she / her ) ‘n i’ll be playing yr residential sullen broodin’ boy , nico . i didn’t have the time to write out a whole new intro , given that i have back to back classes again today :-’( , so please forgive me for recycling his old intro akawodkgrsd ; . that being said , i did tweak around some tingz and i updated his wcs for him , so if yr down to clown around just hmu on my discord : 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔫𝔦𝔞#2854 ! okie okie , i’ll shut da eff up now ♡

BASICS.

༉‧₊˚✧ kim taehyung , cis man , he / him / his — did you see that nicholas “nico” yoon was trending last night ? the twenty three year old street artist has been getting a lot of press lately . i think it’s due to them being so + quixotic & + free-spirited , but i always thought they seemed - withdrawn & - sybaritic . their fans always say they remind them of soft smoke rings spun in a dreamy haze , silver-ringed fingers rapping against polished oak , and waning light refracting against broken glass though . i wonder if they’ve found out about REDACTED yet … i guess we’ll have to wait and see . [ rox , 22 , pst , she / her , none ]

PINTEREST & PLAYLIST .

01 and 02 .

PERSONALITY .

at first glance , nico reads as this aloof , arrogant type that doesn’t like to associate w the common public . always keeping the majority of people at a comfortable distance , nico moves almost exclusively within his own social network , and doesn’t like to deviate from what he knows best .

not so much pretentious as he is lazy , making an effort to socialize with complete strangers is simply something that nico would never do . hehe ... he’s kind of shy like that .... ♡ though he’d literally never admit it ♡

despite giving the impression that he’s some intimidating and chronically indifferent kind of guy , nico is genuinely a sweet boy — ‏‏‎ one who’s in a constant state of confusion as to why people seem to be so scared of him . it always comes as a shock when close friends of his admit that they thought he absolutely hated their guts when they first met him .

b/c tho he’s p smart , nico is very oblivious at times , and he’s 100% the kind of guy who’ll walk away from a conversation thinking he did a rly rly good job trying to make a friend ... when in reality he prob said four words in the span of thirty minutes smh .

overall , nico’s a private person , especially with what he’s thinking ... and it’s really hard to get a clear read on what’s on his mind . sharing his feelings has never been one of nico’s interests b/c he just genuinely doesn’t think whatever he has to say is rly worth mentioning . so he usually just shuts da fuck up n lets other ppl talk so he can mentally gain the strength to continue socializing .

push nico’s buttons enough tho ‘n you’ll catch this mf speaking in full sentences .

lastly , it should b noted that nico is a romantic through n through ... this mf probably d*ed in the victorian era ‘n got reincarnated b/c he’s got that ‘ lets share furtive glances across the room but never say a thing to each other ‘ thing on lock . mr. darcy headass

and while nico might play the role of long-suffering , ever pining lover to a T , he’s more in love w / the idea of love than he is w / any single person . and he literally cannot hold down a relationship w/o fucking it up for himself in some shape or form .

kind of sarcastic ... v much the teasing type ....

can b very impulsive at times , loves to go on solo adventures at night , prefers his own company tbh ...

overview : melancholic , reticent , noncommittal , humble , mild-mannered , romantic .

a mix of : josh from clueless and j.d. from heathers

more here .

MORE AESTHETICS.

the chill of silver jewelry against flushed skin , forgotten graffiti on porcelain sinks , flickering motel lights , kisses sticky with vodka , eyes ringed with lavender , sleepless nights surrendered to the dull buzz of television , obscure art house films , sun-kissed cheeks , the surprise of summer rain , chest aching with lost loves , scattered baby’s breath and rosemary , and a shared smile between perfect strangers .

CHARACTER DISSERTATION.

nico was born on a brisk wintry morning in the fashion district of los angeles ( january 21st , 1997 ) to a family of six .

as the second youngest child , and the only male son to boot , nico grew up with his only inheritance being a generational kind of hunger , one that demanded for more than what his struggling parents could offer

the arts stole nico at an early age ... ushering him into a world of creation and freedom beyond the four bleak walls he daily occupied . from spending lonely summers tucked away in some forgotten corner in the library to practicing on a borrowed violin from dawn to dusk , nico knew that even with nothing at his disposal , there was always something to be made w/ the tools he’d been given

despite not having the money for private tutors to hone their son’s growing artistic talents , his parents did whatever they could to support his dreams , whether that meant working double shifts back to back or scrounging for loose change underneath the sofa cushions to pay for whatever materials nico needed .

it was in this strange way that nico grew up p spoiled . somehow having nothing while also having absolutely everything at the same time .

very much a family man , the first big purchase nico made once he broke out in hollywood was a house in beverly hills for his parents . now that he’s finally at a place where he can take care of his family , nico makes sure that his parents and sisters want for nothing

while he showers everyone else with generous gifts and obscene amounts of money , nico doesn’t particularly feel comfortable doing the same for himself . he’s a simple man through n through . one who’s content to spend his time walking his dog late at night , listening to a podcast on his airpods , instead of going out to a club w/ other well-known socialites .

a true artist at heart , nico refuses to conform to the current trends of hollywood , instead insisting on wearing thrifted clothes to important galas — ‏‏‎much to the frustration of his PR team and the chagrin of his stylists . but none of the choices nico makes seems to surprise anyone anymore . driving flashy cars and wearing designer clothes has never really been his style , after all . and it’s important to him that he remain authentically himself despite everything .

WANTED CONNECTS.

pr relationship ( open ) : someone that nico is contractually obligated to date ... i could totally see there being drama ‘n tension from having to pretend to actually like each other ... would b better if they rly did not like each other at all ...

fwb ( open ) : buddies who bump uglies sometimes ... they both agreed they’d never catch feelings for each other but we’ll see ...

frenemies ( open ) : someone that grinds nico’s gears but they’re a friend of his friend ... so they’re forced to keep it civil . i can see them exchanging hateful comments in the back of their friend’s car while simultaneously posting pics of each other on ig to keep up the rouse .

unrequited crush ( open ) : likely nico would not realize if yr muse had a crush on them ... but it’d be fun to play it out like a kdrama anyway heh heh

a close friend group ( open / any ) : i thought it’d b so cute if there was like a small group of friends , maybe 3-4 ppl , that do stupid shit like ditch going to celebrity after-parties to break into abandoned buildings , get real high , ask stupid ‘ would u rather ‘ questions , and do sum main character type shit ... yk what im puttin down ... ‘n nico is def the type to open up in the presence of extroverts so i think having a group of wild outsiders of diff bgs would b v inch resting ..

enemies / rivals ( open / any ) : tbh nico prob rubs ppl the wrong way since he has resting bitch face ‘n never wants to talk to anyone .. so im sure there r ppl who just do not like this mf ... and rest assured that the feeling is mutual ...

bad / good influence ( open / any ) : nico’s known to mount his high horse often ... mr morality over here ... so i just know he prob would butt heads w/ the residential troublemaker . tho nico’s artwork can be controversial and out of the box at times , his art style and his personality are at constant odds , and it’d b interesting to have that bad influence / good influence dynamic w/ someone .

family friend ( open ) : someone who grew up w/ nico in dtla ... couldve gone to the same public school as him ... or their families couldve gone to the same church ...

ok my intro post has become a fucking behemoth so im going to stop here ‘n just say i have so many more wcs in mind so if u wanna plot lets just talk hehe :>

#lavish.intro #okie gotta blast i have class in 5 min

10 notes · View notes

robronvalentineexchange · 5 years ago

Text

Operation Idiots

for @like-the-first-time-i-kissed-you

There was pink and red everywhere. Robert looked in the village. David’s shop was the worst offender, and he felt blinded by it all. The pink cards, the pink flowers, pink colored crisp packages and even the beer cans in the refrigerators seemed to not have been saved from the Valentine’s take over. He shook his head and wondered vaguely if Valentine’s Day as a holiday had taken over the world while he was in prison? He frowned at the flower display and tried to push the holiday out of his mind, or rather the person it made him think about.

He’d told Vic he’d do the shopping – needing to give her something back for letting him say with her until he figured out a flat for himself. It was hard going because he wanted to be in Emmerdale. He needed to stay close to his family. He’d missed them more deeply than he expected to while he was in prison and being home. It felt amazing to back in his sister’s life, to know his nephew — even Diane wasn’t annoying him to often. He supposed eventually that might fade, but he missed her.

Robert needed them. All of them. But most of all he needed Seb. The thought of him made all the Valentine’s Day decoration fade away. He felt a rush of happiness that made him feel like he was buzzing from the inside. Seb was spectacular. He was perfect. He was too old, twelve, and Robert lost far too much time. But they were getting along, somehow, his son didn’t hate him for leaving him — it’d been his worst nightmare over the years. But after a few hard questions, Seb had hugged him and cried and told him he was happy Robert was home.

He wasn’t sure if his homecoming would’ve gone so easily if Seb hadn’t accepted him, but he did, so Robert pushed down the what-ifs and found it easier to ignore all the cheery pink around him. He smiled at the thought of his son and how amazing he was —

But the real reason for that popped up in his mind, and he saw himself looking at a card that was taped to the wall as decoration. To My Husband on its cover and he frowned.

Aaron.

Only they weren’t husbands, not anymore. Robert had ended it with the clink of his ring on a white table. He watched Aaron take it, not realizing what was happening and hated himself more than he ever had before. But it was the past now, and he needed to focus on the present. He told himself it wasn’t like they’d ever celebrated Valentine’s Day themselves when they were together. He remembered mocking it more than anything, shaking their heads at the fuss and people wasting their money. Then using it as an excuse to make it an early night. As if they never found on any given day to do the same.

Memories of them in bed rose up, and he couldn’t stop the smile. The truth was he spent a lot of hours thinking about them to simply stay sane in prison. There were lists and rankings, and maybe it was mad, but it’d kept his alive. It wasn’t just sex, of course, it was laughter and conversations. It was Aaron. It’d kept him alive somehow. Even when the thought of Aaron was a wound in his heart instead. Missing him, letting him go, it was a double-edged blade — thinking about him saved him, but it’d also hurt too.

He smacked a hot pink balloon with a bit too much heft as he passed it and tried to bury down the memories. He needed to let him go — again. Always. He was out now, and he couldn’t use Aaron like this any longer. They were over, and it wasn’t going to change. He’d shoved Aaron away without looking back years ago, and it’d worked. Aaron moved on with a life without Robert in it, and now there was too much time and distance.

And Aaron had moved on.

At least he wasn’t married.

Though he was living with someone. Tim or Jim, or was Ian? Robert shook his head and hated eventually he’d learn the man’s name. The man he had to accept had a life with Aaron. But, no all that mattered was the man was good to Seb, that he accepted his son and wasn’t going to hurt him. And he knew Aaron would never put up with that, so there was nothing to worry about — his son was safe and happy. His son was being raised by Aaron, and Aaron was allowing Robert to take part in it. Somehow despite all the time and distance between them.

He was back to thinking about his son About the things he’d learned. How he was tall for his age, how he’d inherited the Sugden freckles, and somehow he was still more of a redhead than a blonde. Robert grinned as he thought about bright and precocious Seb was, but it grew wider at the fact his son scowled a bit. It made him look so much like Aaron that it hurt a bit. It also made relief flood him that his son had Aaron in him, that he was being raised by Aaron because Robert had always wanted it. He’d always thought his son’s best interests would be under Aaron’s watchful eye.

He always knew Aaron would be the perfect dad.

He frowned as he realized he hadn’t managed to get Aaron out of his mind at all. And on cue, the bell to the shop rang and Robert looked up and in came the two most important people in his life. He felt a bit blinded by the two of them, there together. Both of them smiling at him like they were glad to see him. Aaron’s smile seemed bright, and their eyes met, and Robert felt that familiar pull he always felt around Aaron. He wished he could give into it, wished all of this was more than just a hello, but he felt thankful Aaron seemed to have met his promise about them being mates.

“Hi ya,” Aaron said after a moment with a shake of his head, like he was rude forgetting.

Robert just shrugged at him and returned the greeting.

Seb made an odd snorting sort of noise, which made Robert look at him, and a rush of extreme affection rolled through him. He suddenly he realized he did have a reason to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was the perfect excuse to find another way to spoil Seb rotten — and he meant too, he meant to show Seb he loved him in any way he could possibly manage.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said.

“That’s a lot of food,” Seb said, pointing to his overly full cart of food.

“Your Aunt Vic’s fridge is empty,” Robert laughed. “She’s gotten a bit caught up with work lately…”

“Yeah… Valentine’s rush, mum, calls it,” Aaron laughed. “It’s like people do test runs at the Woolpack.”

“Test runs, for what dropping a ring in the wine glass?” Robert rolled his eyes.

Aaron laughed. “Who would propose at the Woolpack? Daft.”

“What’re you gonna…” he sighed and instantly regretted the question.

“What?” Aaron prodded.

“Doing for…” Robert shrugged and looked at David’s gaudy display of red and pink flowers.

“Oh…uh,” Aaron mumbled and looked down at his feet.

Robert braced himself to hear Aaron was going away with his boyfriend or something.

“Tim and Da, they broke up.” Seb nearly shouted it, and Robert stared at his son. Seb beamed at him. “Tim and Da, they broke up.”

“Oh….” Robert bit the inside of his cheek because he couldn’t smile, he couldn’t assume this was good news. It really wasn't… Aaron had been living with this man.

“Yeah… it wasn't… it just wasn’t going to work out.”

Robert opened his mouth to attempt to tell Aaron he was sorry to hear it when his son spoke over him.

“Maybe Dad can come over Friday,”

“Friday?” the two of them said in unison, given it was Wednesday.

“Valentine’s Day,” Seb announced like it wasn’t anything.

He shook his head and tried not to notice that Aaron was doing the same — it shouldn’t hurt, and he was saying no too, obviously. But he needed to avoid Aaron’s face, and his own felt hot, and he wished they could spend the day together, but they just couldn’t do that…

They couldn’t.

But he had another idea. “How about you and I do something on Valentine’s Day, Seb?”

“I’m your son,” he muttered.

“Exactly and I love ya… So, we could make a special day of it, right? If your Dad’s okay with it?”

“Yeah, it’s a great idea. What do you say, Seb?”

Seb looked from Aaron to Robert and back again with an odd expression on his face. Robert was just learning how to read his son, and he wasn’t all sure what it was he was witnessing, and he was afraid Seb was about to say no, that he didn’t want to spend time with him and he wondered if he could brace for that hurt.

“Seb…” Aaron said, his voice gruff.

“Okay, yeah, of course,” Seb said quickly, and he hugged Robert too. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.” He pulled away from Robert and looked, Aaron. “I saw Isaac was up at the swings can I go, Da?”

“Of course,” Aaron said, and Seb rushed off quickly.

“It isn’t weird, is it?” Robert asked after a beat.

“What?”

“Father and son on Valentine’s Day?”

“Bloody made-up holiday anyway, why not use it as an excuse to love on him?” Aaron shrugged. “Plus, he’s got your sweet tooth, so chocolate will win help in you continue to win him over.”

“Are you suggesting I’d bribe my son to like me?”

“Are you suggesting you wouldn’t?” Aaron’s eyes glinted.

“No,” Robert laughed, and it felt like they fell into a staring contest. Robert cleared his throat and asked another question he shouldn’t, but he was curious. "What happened with…“

"Tim? It just wasn’t going to… It wasn’t going to work out…” Aaron cleared his throat. “It’s been coming.”

“Oh, yeah… I just didn’t…” He felt stupid and like he was making it all about him, or them when it probably wasn’t about him at all.

“It just wasn’t going to work out, we wanted different things…” Aaron said after a beat.

“I'm…” he tried to say sorry, but it never formed on his tongue.

They stood there again, and Robert started to wonder if they were standing to close when Aaron broke the silence again. “So…A pint later?”

Robert smiled with relief, and he felt more grounded again. The truth was they’d decided to be mates. They’d avoided each other when he first got back. They’d yelled at each other, and then Robert had broken down and apologized. Aaron revealed he’d forgiven him years ago…

They got to a good place. It was for Seb, really, Robert thought because they couldn’t raise him together as strangers. And Aaron offered to do this to make them equal in their son’s life, and Robert felt grateful. The truth was Aaron held the cards, he was the one who was raising their son, and Robert wasn’t going to take away that power. But Aaron wanted them to do it together, he promised Robert they’d figure out a way and asked for them to mates.

So they were mates.

And they went for a pint.

Nearly every day.

“Yeah, meet ya there, usual time?”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah.”

“Great…” He said. “I better…” He raised up his groceries.

“Right… I should get what I came in for…” Aaron looked around the shop.

Yet they stood there together, both of them pointedly not looking at the other before they cleared their throats and went their separate ways. As Robert turned, he caught a glimpse of Seb through the window and smiled at him, happy to see him but a bit curious why he was looking into the store. Seb blinked, then smiled and waved at him before turning around and heading toward the playground.

Robert shrugged, shook his head, and stuck his groceries down for the kid currently working for David to scan.

One Day Later

Seb sighed where he sat at the bar of the Woolpack, his maths homework spread out in front of him. He was nearly done, he could’ve been done ages ago, but he kept getting distracted. But how STUPID his Dads were. They were first-class idiots. Seb had never seen anyone or anything more ridiculous than the two of them. He really wondered how they could be so monumentally idiotic?

He turned back to his maths, but he couldn’t focus, so he ended up looking at his Dads again and sighed again. Because they looked happy, they looked more than happy, really, and Seb was sick and tired of them ignoring the fact that they only felt that way together.

He could see it. They both smiled the entire time, they’d see each other, and their faces would light up, and they’d talk, and the smiles would be wider and brighter. They reached his Da’s eyes, and he had never seen his Da smile like that and all his clearest memories his Da was there… and he was sometimes a sulky bloke, but so was Seb — so what, but he’d thought he’d seen his Da happy before. He thought Tim had made his Da happy, but then he’d seen his Dad make his Da laugh…

And yeah, there was no comparing it.

His Da was the happiest Seb ever seen him since his dad came home — Seb was too, and he knew his Dad was because he told Seb more than once that being in his life again was the happiest he’d been in a long time. But he was still sad when his Da wasn’t around, and his Da was downright moody and weird when his Dad wasn’t around.

But they kept saying they were just mates. Seb shook his head because they didn’t look like mates. And they looked way more happy and in love than Da had ever looked with Tim. And Tim had been gone for weeks now, weeks, and he definitely wasn’t coming back…

So wasn’t his Da saying anything to his Dad about them.

They loved each other, you’d need to live under a rock to not know it.

How did they not know it? It seemed the only explanation, the two of them were being idiots who couldn’t see the truth. They belonged together. Seb was starting to believe he was the one who would have to do something about it. If they wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day together — he’d just have to figure out how to make it happen.

~~~

He decided Leyla Harding-Cavanaugh was his only hope for two very important reasons. The first was a conversation he’d overheard between her and Tracy the night before…. It seemed he wasn’t the only one watching his Dads and wondering why they were being slow about admitting their feelings. She thought it would happen sooner rather than later. Seb had heard her use the word inevitable. So, they were in agreement that his Dads belonged together, and that made her a natural ally. Second. Her job was throwing Weddings. Soppy things were her specialty, so she would know exactly what he needed to do to get his Dads to stop being idiots.

So he walked into Take a Vow, carrying the big shoe box from under his bed and marched up to Leyla at her desk and spilled all the coins and paper bills of money he had onto it and announced himself.

“I need to hire you for advice,” he said.

Leyla blinked at him a bit and stared at the money. “What?”

“I need to hire you for advice,” he repeated.

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

Then she was grinning. She leaned forward her eyes wide with interest. “Who is the lucky girl or boy you want to impress for Valentine’s Day?”

He screwed up his face in disgust. “Ew. It’s not about me.”

“It’s not?”

“No…gross.”

“I’m confused,” Leyla shook her head.

“It’s my Dads.”

“Oh…” She breathed it out like it solved all the questions in the universe.

“How do I get them to admit they should get back together?”

She was back to blinking at him and he’d really never noticed how long her eyelashes were — they had to be fake, he leaned forward a bit to see if he could tell.

“Seb, I don’t think I can help you there.”

“No! You have too, it’s taking way too long and their all sad when they aren’t together.”

“Well… it is very complicated.”

“Is not,” he stood his ground. “They’re happier together. Da does this thing with his mouth I didn’t know he could, and my Dad gets bigger, like he’s less scared of everything since he’s out of prison. And they laugh, and they talk FOREVER and forget to drink their pints. They need to get back together, PLEEEEEASE.”

“Isn’t your dad with Tim?”

“They broke up like weeks ago….” Seb sighed, feeling frustrated.

Leyla’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes! And it’s Valentine’s Day, shouldn’t they get together then?”

“Well…”

“You have to help me make them see it’s for the best.”

“I don’t know what I can do, though… I don’t really disagree with you, always was a bit jealous of them really…. But it’s been a long time, and your dad, Robert, he just got out of prison.”

“It’s been months, he got out before my birthday.”

“Well… I mean short of knocking their heads together, I really don’t know…”

“Knocking their heads together, how would that work?”

“Not literally, locking them in a room or something until they really talk about things… but I mean, you can’t really do that, can you, Seb.”

“Lock them…” Seb’s brain felt warm, thoughts were forming, a plan was taking place. HE KNEW EXACTLY WHAT TO DO. “Thank you, Mrs. Harding-Cavanagh,” he shouted before running out of her shop.

“Seb, your money…” Leyla yelled.

“You earned it,” he yelled back just before the door closed and grinned madly.

Operation Idiots was in effect.

There were just a few details to iron out before Friday.

~~~

Later on Thursday

Robert glanced at the cheap watch on his wrist, and Aaron averted his eyes from it and tried not to think about the watch that used to live on his husb — no Robert’s wrist… Aaron sighed and wondered when he’d find the courage to return the watch to Robert now that he was out — he could give it to Seb himself someday. But the thought of even touching that watch brought up feelings and thoughts that were just best avoided.

“Huh…it’s really late, Aaron.”

Aaron glanced at the pint he’d barely taken a sip from because they’d just kept talking all night. Not about much really, mostly Seb and some random subjects. It wasn’t like they’d ever had issues just talking, or getting along, or just being quiet together. It was all so simple, really, how easy it was to be Robert’s mate and just meet for a pint. "Is it?“

"Going on ten.”

Aaron’s eyes widened, and he looked around the bar. Seb was easy to find. He was at the corner of it by the door to the kitchen. His books were all shut, and he was sitting there and looking at them. At seeing Aaron look over, he immediately looked away like he’d been caught — that was weird. Or maybe he knew it was way past his bedtime. “I’ve gotta get Seb home…”

Robert nodded and moved to his feet. “Of course.”

Somehow though, Aaron and Seb found themselves walking with Robert. He and Seb were talking. Robert checking he’d done all his homework and listening to him talk about his assignments. Aaron felt a warmth in his chest at it all, Robert getting to hear about their kid’s day at school, and he swallowed over a lump in his throat at it all. It was nice, but it also unsettled him.

They all came to a stop in front of Keepers.

“Well, here I am…” Robert said. “So, I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow, and we’ll spend the rest of the day together?” he asked Seb and Aaron wished he stop sounding so unsure.

“Of course, Dad, I want too,” Seb said, his tone reassuring and saying with it what Aaron wished he could find the words to say to Robert. He wanted Robert to see what he did, how mad their kid was about him. Seb loved Robert, he’d never stopped. Asked about him all the time, in a lot of ways, he’d kept Robert alive for Aaron in a way that didn’t burn — too much.

Robert looked relieved and hugged Seb goodbye, running a hand over his head before standing up straighter. “Well, yeah, I’ll see ya, Aaron.”

“See ya…” Aaron echoed.

But they stood there, gazes locked for a good minute. Aaron searched for an excuse to keep talking, but there was none, and he almost thought Robert was doing that same. But then Robert shook his head a bit and turned around. And Aaron watched him walk away and go inside the cottage.

And Aaron felt an impulse to fly at the door, bang on it, and drag Robert home with him because he was remembering another February. A night where he stood exactly where he was standing now and shouted at Robert that they belonged together because it was the truth of them. Of him. It was something he knew in his bones, that Robert was it for him and no one else would ever compare.

He loved Robert.

He knew he loved Robert.

It was in the bones of him.

He’d broken up with Tim because with Robert back, he’d seen he’d been settling — again — and he knew he couldn’t do that to Tim. Tim deserved someone who could give him all of themselves. Aaron would never be able to do that with any other man but Robert.

Yet it didn’t mean he was letting Robert back into his heart, into his home, into his life…

Even though it was all forgiven.

He’d forgiven Robert a long time ago for pushing him away. He’d always understood why even if he hadn’t been able to admit for the first year or so… But even so, when Robert arrived back in town that anger had risen up and he’d yelled, he’d yelled until his throat was hoarse. They’d cried, they’d both apologized but hearing Robert’s had given him clarity.

It truly was all forgiven.

But it was too late for them.

It’d been too long.

It was too risky.

All those things echoed and repeated in Aaron’s head, so he’d done the only thing he could think of and promised himself they’d be mates. Best mates, close mates… that’d they be friends. Because at the very least, he could get his best friend back because it was the truth. Somewhere during all their breakups and reunions, Robert had become his best friend, the one person who knew him with just a look and that he could talk to about anything.

The depth of how he’d just missed that alone was unspeakable.

So, they had a pint, every day, and talked about everything, talked about nothing — like today where they’d mocked Valentine’s Day again like they used too and talked about Seb and what he might like to do with Robert. Then they just talked about their son, because it was the easiest and both their favorite subject… But it’d been quiet too, or they’d spoken about nothing really, it’d just been good to sit together, to laugh together.

Aaron ignored the fact he’d ached to touch Robert the entire time, and now he pushed down the ached he felt to fly at Vic’s door, pound on it, and shout at Robert to come home.

“Da?” Seb’s voice broke through his thoughts.

And reminded him how terrifying his feelings where. Because it was terrifying. What if it all went wrong? Aaron wouldn’t be the only one hurt. He turned to Seb and smiled at him and ignored that it was a bit forced because he did ache for Robert. But their son was everything, to him and to Robert.

And they weren’t going to risk hurting him.

“Let’s get home,” Aaron said and started walking toward the Mill.

“Why can’t you come with us tomorrow.”

“It’d be good for you and your dad to have a day to yourselves, don’t you want too?”

“Of course, yeah, it’ll be fun, but…”

“What?”

“Couldn’t all of us just play some games and watch a movie at The Mill?”

“No,” Aaron shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Seb, I have to work tomorrow anyway, there is a big shipment, I will be stuck up there long after you get home from school. And this is important to your dad, all right. He likes to spoil the people he loves, and he’s got a lot of lost time to make up with you.”

Seb’s face went serious, and he nodded. “I get it, I guess, but I love him. He doesn’t have to spoil me.”

“I know, I think he might know that too, but remind him, alright…” Aaron frowned. “Sometimes, he doesn’t think he’s enough.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated. Come on, we’ve got to get you home, it’s past your bedtime, I don’t know how it got so late.”

Seb snorted.

“What?”

“You don’t know how it got so late?” Seb was giving him a look.

Aaron blinked at him.

“Whatever,” Seb whined two seconds later.

“Seb?”

Seb sighed and yawned. “I’m just tired, I guess, since it’s so late, forget it.”

Aaron smiled at him, fondly and put his hands on his shoulders. He was getting so tall, he would be taller than him, and he wondered if he’d be taller than Robert or the same height as him. “Let’s get you home.”

“I just…”

“What Seb?”

“He never comes to the Mill, Dad… Unless you’re not there.”

“Seb,” Aaron sighed. “It’s just complicated.”

“Why?”

“The Mill is…” Aaron shook his head. “It’s better this way, alright.”

“Why?”

They weren’t purposely doing it, at least Aaron didn’t think they were. But it made sense, he thought. Them avoiding being together at the Mill. It’d been their home, and it’d been a happy home. Robert built it for them, and once they finally were truly together, nothing else between them and living together. It’d been the best days of Aaron’s life, and he looked back and knew he’d never been that happy before. And he only came close to be that happy again when he was with Robert — he knew it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

They couldn’t go back. Could they?

As they walked closer to it, Aaron realized he hadn’t allowed it to change much over the years. He could bring himself to completely de-Robert it. Things here and there changed but the soul of it… The soul of it was what Robert built.

For them.

Robert had been in the Mill a few times since he came home. And the space was loud around them… All the happy memories had echoed around them, and for Aaron, it brought back their dreams too. Seeing Robert in the Mill reminded him about their life together, how they’d wanted more children. He thought about them now, those children. Would they be boys or girls? Would they be more like Robert or him…

“Da?” Seb sounded worried, and Aaron looked at him and knew they’d all be as brilliant as him. Suddenly he was missing children he never had and never would have…

There was no blame, but that dream was broken.

“It’s just complicated, Seb,” Aaron repeated.

“I just… I like having you both around and…”

“You’ll always have the both of us, Seb,” Aaron interrupted him. “Always, Robert’s not going anywhere. Never again.”

“I know that,” Seb sounded exasperated. “Do you?”

“What?”

“I know Dad’s staying. But I don’t think you’ve figured it out.” Seb stalked into the Mill.

Seb suddenly seemed older than his twelve years. Aaron had seen a fierceness in his eyes that showed he’d meant every word, but Aaron wasn’t at all sure he understood at all what Seb meant. He hurried into the Mill and caught him just before he went upstairs.

“Seb, I know your dad will never leave ya, again.”

“I’m not talking about me, Da,” Seb sounded even more frustrated. “I’m going to bed.”

All Aaron could do was shake his head.

Valentine’s Day

“So, you’re working?” it was the third time he doubled his check his dad planned to be at the scrapyard ALL DAY. But it was important to his plan that the day goes according to THE PLAN.

“I told you, big shipment coming in this morning, will be busy all day.”

“Right so, the shipment’s at…”

“Around noon… Seb, what’s this about?”

“Nothing,” he muttered and put a piece of toast in his mouth. But he felt his dad’s eyes on him. Seb knew he seemed suspicious, but it was hard to act calm about everything. This plan could change everything. This plan had to change everything, he thought as he stuffed more toast in his mouth and hoped Da would drop it.

He got lucky, and his dad went back to eating his own toast.

Seb started to smile as he chewed.

“Looking forward to your day with your Dad?” Aaron asked him, and it was the third or fourth time. He wasn’t the only one repeating questions.

“Yeah, of course. Still think it’s a dumb holiday,” he muttered, because it was dumb — unless he managed to get his Dads back together, then it might become his favorite holiday.

“It’s important to your dad to treat ya, Seb.”

“And I’m gonna let him…” Seb grinned. “I mean, he tries too hard, but it’s nice…” He bit into the last piece of toast because he felt his eyes getting wet. The truth was he really did like spending time with his Dad. Anywhere and anyway, he didn’t really care. His Da wasn’t the only one who had missed him.

The truth was before Dad came back, all of Seb’s memories about him were pretty blurry. But, he remembered a lot of sweets being given to him, and there were funny voices he’d make for the characters in all his favorite books. Seb remembered being held in strong arms and feeling safe. And he’d tried hang onto that memory the hardest after his mum died. He’d tried to hang onto all of them harder after she died, and wished he had clearer ones to hold on like he did of her.

But it got harder the older he was…

And now he had him back he knew again how safe his hugs felt and that his Dad loved him and how he smiled at hard he was always trying and how sometimes he asked too many questions and Seb didn’t really have all the answers. But his Dad wanted to know him, and he wanted to know his Dad too…

But he wanted him home more.

Being back in the village wasn’t enough.

Harry shouldn’t be the one getting to live with him.

Seb wanted his Dads together because that was going to make them happier, and it would make him happier too.

So, today his Dad wasn’t going to get to try to hard to show his love. No, today, his Dad was finally going to admit he wanted to spend the rest of his life with his Da again…

At least if Seb had any say in the matter.

“I love him, Da,” Seb said.

Aaron smiled at him at that, and the light in his eyes almost lit up as much as it did around his Dad. But it faded out quickly, and his father shook his head. “Yeah, yeah…he loves you.”

“Da?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you?” Seb asked as doubt about his plan creeped in out of nowhere.

“Do I what?”

“Love Dad?”

“Seb…” His voice sounded clogged up. “It’s complicated.”

Seb frowned. “That’s grown-up, for I don’t wanna lie to you.”

“It is not.”

“Then tell me the truth? You always say the truth is best.”

“Seb…”

“What?”

Aaron sighed and moved his chair closer to Seb. “Sometimes, love is complicated and when you’re older…”

“So, you do, love him,” Seb exclaimed because that was all he needed to know to be sure again.

“Yes….but.”

“I knew it,” Seb grinned, cutting his father’s disclaimer off. Seb was pretty sure it was just grown-up lies and silliness anyway. His doubt was gone, and he nodded to himself. He’d seen them together, he knew his Da’s smiles, and he knew only his Dad had the power to make him really happy.

He was definitely doing the right thing.

~~~

“No?” Robert scratched the back of his neck and tried not to feel out of sorts, but it was easy to feel thrown by Seb. He wanted them to get along, and he wanted to spend as much as time as he could with him. He knew he’d never get bored of him, he loved him so much — it hurt sometimes. And he’d lost so much time, and since deciding on spending Valentine’s Day with him, he’d been looking forward to it a lot.

But Seb seemed off, and now he was saying no to a movie, and Robert felt hurt, and he tried to shove it aside because it wasn’t about him. It was about his son. He took a deep breath and told himself it was just a no to seeing a movie. Maybe Seb had something else he wanted to do.

“I forgot something in Da’s car,” Seb said as he finished off his chocolate donut. “It’s part of a maths project that’s due Monday.”

Robert frowned. “Was it assigned today, you haven’t mentioned it before?”

“No, I just forgot about it. But I thought Aunt Liv is always saying your good at maths and all. Can you help me with it today? Maybe we can do a movie later, with Da? Please, Dad?”

“Yeah, of course… I mean, I’m not going to let you not finish your homework… Seb, you should have brought this up sooner.”

Seb just shrugged at him, swallowed the donut, and grinned at him in a way that was a lot like looking into a mirror. It made Robert smile, but something about the shine in Seb’s eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He chuckled a bit and told himself it was probably a warning that he was in for it with this kid – that this amazing kid was his and he was going to have his hands full. All he wanted was to be a good father, he could at least do all he could to get that right and be there for Seb.

Always.

“Alright, so you left it in your dad’s car?”

“Yeah, the backseat…”

“Alright, I’ll call him,” he started to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket.

“He’s probably outside, he’s at the scrapyard, said there was a shipment….” Seb hopped up from the table, “Let’s just drive up there.”

Robert nodded and felt thankful he had Vic’s car for the day, and soon enough, they’d climbed into it, and his son started texting. He frowned at that and elbowed him a bit.

“Who are you texting?”

“Belle… I thought since we’re heading that way, I’d walk over to see the pigs? Just making sure someone is home.”

“Okay…” Robert nodded. “You like pigs?”

“Oh yeah, and the cows and lambs at Isaac’s…it’s fun to play with them. Isaac doesn’t like too so much, says he gets stuck having to wake up early, and he gets smelly from things his mum makes him do. I like my chores better.”

Robert smiled. “I hated farming chores, myself.”

“You had chores like Isaac…”

“Yeah, I grew up on a farm like Butler’s…’ Robert smiled and started talking about his childhood, amazed at how easy it felt to talk about memories that use to cause only pain. But it was made easy by Seb’s smiles and simple questions and put everything into a different perspective.

"Belle says I can come over.”

“Tell her, I’ll be there too…” Robert laughed as he pulled into the scrapyard, a flood of memories hitting him, and he gripped the wheel a bit tight at an onslaught of memories. He and Aaron had been through a lot, and the scrapyard had always been there through all the ups and all the downs. Robert had lost count of the times they’d locked the doors to the Portacabin – when they remembered too anyway.

But now wasn’t the time for those memories, and he pushed it down for another memory to rise up. It was a bright memory and one of his favorites. He’d thought about it a lot over the years. I’d gotten him through a lot of hard times, and now he could share it with his son… He was back in his son’s life, and he could tell him about the amazing moment Aaron first held him.

“You know, the first time your dad held ya, was in that PortaCabin.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… You were a little terror, I was stressed out, and you were picking it up. Your dad, he held ya for me, and you calmed right down and wrapped him around your finger, I think…” Robert smiled. “I remembered thinking it looked ao right, you two, together…” he sniffed hard to fend off tears, the visceral memory surprising him a bit as he spoke. “I’m just so happy you’ve had him in your life Seb. There is no one who can love ya better than Aaron.”

“There’s you, too, Dad. You both love me loads,” Seb smiled.

“I’ll try.”

Seb beamed and in a blink he was out of the car.

“Seb…” Robert laughed and hurried after him. He felt weird about stepping into the PortaCabin. He’d been working out of Vic’s flat or Nicola’s house rather than up here. It’d felt wrong to encroach on Aaron’s spaces after so long… The first thing he noticed was that the desks had been shifted about a bit bit, but it was the same four walls. There was a slightly newer looking heater that it seemed to keep the room a bit of bearable temperature even in February in Yorkshire. a

“Hi ya…” Aaron said, looking at the two of them with confusion. “I thought we decided…”

Not to see each other today. Robert finished for him in his head, and they hadn’t spoken about it. It’d been a silent agreement, and Robert wasn’t totally certain why… Valentine’s Day wasn’t important to them, but it felt like… It felt like it might bring up all the things they both want to say, or the things they feel they can’t say. It just felt best to avoid it altogether.

After all, there was no them.

“Seb forgot about a maths project…” Robert said.

“He what?” Aaron looked at their son.

“Yeah…” Seb muttered. “Sorry… I left it in the car, can I have the keys?”

Aaron sighed and pulled his keys off the ring by the PortaCabin door. “Alright, go get it.”

Seb took the keys and grinned.

Robert felt his hair on his neck, go up again.

“Seb?” Aaron was saying Seb’s name in a parental tone and standing up.

Seb slammed the door shut behind him.

“Oi, no need to slam the…” Aaron shouted but stopped short as they heard the clang of keys and loud click. “Seb!”

Robert stared at the locked door and jumped when his cell phone rang. He grabbed at it and nodded. “It’s him,” he muttered as he answered it.

“Put me on speaker…”

Robert followed the order, mostly because he was too puzzled to do anything else. “Seb, open the door…” the both of them yelled.

“Welcome to Operation Idiots. It’s been FOREVER already, I can’t wait any longer. I’m tired of watching you be all happy together and then sad when you’re apart. I might be a kid, but it is obvious you belong together. I am tired of waiting. So, it is Valentine’s Day, so it’s the perfect time for you two to GET BACK TOGETHER. You’ll be alone, no one will interrupt and you can’t wuss out and leave cause I locked the door. I’ll be over at Wishing Well with the pigs and Belle, so don’t worry about me, I’m sorted.”

The line went dead.

“SEB,” Aaron shouted, and he pounded on the door. “SEB.”

Robert walked to the window and peered out. Sure enough, his son was skipping, his way toward Wishing Well. He shoved his phone into his jacket and suddenly wondered what the hell to do with his arms, legs, hell his entire body.

He was alone with Aaron for the foreseeable.

And the truth was they’d been meeting in public spaces for a reason.

Even if they never spoke it.

Aaron shouted Seb’s name one more time before just stopping. He seemed to just freeze facing the door and let out a long breath. Then he turned around, and Robert forced himself to look at him.

Aaron looked as frazzled as he felt.

Somehow that allowed him to breathe.

Aaron moved next to him, both of them sitting a bit on the desk with less clutter on it. Aaron scraped his hands over his face and shook his head. “He’s…”

“Mine?” Robert offered with a laugh.

Aaron chuckled.

“Does he really have a maths project?” Robert asked.

“Probably not.”

Robert laughed again.

Aaron sighed.

“Operation Idiots?” they spoke together, then laughed together, and Robert felt his heart hammer in his chest as he remembered every time he’d fondly called Aaron an idiot… Especially that day, during the last proposal when they’d jinxed each other and Aaron been mad, Robert tried to step on his turn to propose…

It felt so long ago. It was so long ago. But he looked at Aaron and felt like no time had passed at all. But it was heavy now, the memory and realized they’d only managed a year of happiness. He’d ruined it, he’d ruined them every time and did he really deserve another chance. He wanted it, he wanted it enough to take it – he knew he’d take it if Aaron offered.

But he couldn’t ask for it.

And he doubted Aaron would offer it.

Aaron cleared his throat and looked away from him.

“I’ll call Belle…” He said and dialed her number.

Robert nodded.

“Belle, it’s Aaron…” He started. “Look, can you get the keys from Seb and come and let… What… What do ya.. What?”

“What is she saying?”

“It is not a good idea…” Aaron sighed. “What did he tell ya?”

“Aaron?”

“Belle, no… Belle, just… Hello? Hello?” Aaron groaned.

“Is she coming?” Robert asked though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“No. She thinks Seb has a point, and we should talk.”

“She what?”

Aaron’s cheeks went red, and he ducked his head. “She’s decided to support Seb’s plan.”

“He’s twelve.”

“Liv was fourteen,” Aaron said.

Robert laughed. “At least we had a beer then.”

Aaron smiled, and their eyes locked.

Then they both looked away.

Robert sighed.

“Belle really won’t make us stay here too long… So uh… Get comfortable?” Aaron muttered and he sat down at his desk. “I guess I’ll do paperwork.”

“Really?” Robert said.

“What?” Aaron said as he sat down.

“Paperwork?”

Aaron averted his eyes and pulled out a pen.

Robert stared at him, and he shifted where he stood. He tried sitting down. He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. He sighed a few times and glanced at Aaron — a few times he caught Aaron glancing at him, and he was pretty sure Aaron wasn’t actually doing the paperwork in front of him.

Robert cleared his throat loudly.

Aaron looked at him.

“Would…would…” He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t, …but he wanted too and somehow that won out. "Would talking about what Seb said be so bad?“

Aaron pretended to be reading whatever paperwork he had under his nose for a bit longer before he finally just dropped the pen he was holding. But he stayed silent.

"Forget it…” Robert muttered.

“Maybe…” Aaron sighed.

“What?” Robert asked they’d spoken at the same time.

Aaron looked at him. “Maybe we should say it.”

“Say what?”

“That’s it’s…off the table.”

Robert clenched his jaw and looked away from Aaron. He ended up turning his back to him as he tried to tell himself he deserved how hard that hurt. It felt like something been slammed at his chest, and the mere thought of it made him feel wrong in his skin. Robert gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn around again and face Aaron. When he turned, he saw Aaron had stood up, and he looked a bit uncertain where he stood, but he wasn’t speaking. But he wasn’t taking it back, and his mouth opened a bit like he wanted to speak, but nothing was coming out of it.

“Alright, then… Say it,” Robert said because it was what Aaron wanted. He could voice it out loud. He could make it true, that there was no going back to them — that was real, there was no hope.

Aaron opened his mouth and closed it.

Robert waited.

“I can't…” Aaron sighed.

“Love me?” Robert asked before he stopped himself.

“What? No, Robert, say we’re off the table. I can't…I can’t say that.”

“What? I thought you wanted that…”

“Can you? Do you?” Aaron asked him.

Robert shook his head.

“But…” Aaron winced and sat back down at his desk.

Robert sighed.

“Seb asked me if I still loved you…” Aaron said.

“What did you say?”

“That it was complicated.”

Robert nodded.

“But it isn’t…” Aaron stood up.

“What?”

“Loving you isn’t complicated, it just is Robert.”

“But?”

“It scares me, it always has and it always will…”

Robert nodded.

“And maybe if…”

“If what?”

“If Seb wouldn’t get caught up in the tidal wave…” Aaron said.

Robert nodded.

“I love you, but I don’t know how I can risk you again, Robert.”

“I know,” he said because he did. “I don’t… I’ve never deserved you, and I definitely don’t deserve Seb.”

“No…that’s not. No,” Aaron snapped at him.

“What? It’s true, Aaron.”

“It is not,” Aaron shouted. “Is that..is that what you made you able to do it?”

Robert looked down at his feet and shook his head.

He heard Aaron moving, then he felt him, hovering right in front of him, and then their hands were clasped. He shouldn’t have held Aaron’s hand back, he shouldn’t have let him thread their fingers together, but he allowed it. He let the electricity skate up his arm, the zap he always felt every bloody time Aaron touched him from the first second to the last second.

“Look at me.”

Robert looked up.

“Was that it?” he asked again.

Robert nodded.

“You idiot…” Aaron shook his head. “I knew, I knew it was letting me go because you loved me, I knew you were too stubborn for me to get to – when you were locked away but…”

“But what, you didn’t think I knew I never deserved you?”

“Fuck that,” Aaron snapped. “You do…you deserve whatever you want, Robert. You deserve our little boy, you do.”

“I left him too,” he sniffed. “I walked right away…”

“I was there right after that, I remember you crying out in your sleep, the tears…” Aaron sniffled, and his free hand wiped at his eyes. “You love him like you love me…” He paused. “You do still?”

“Always, Aaron,” Robert breathed. “Don’t know how to stop, and don’t want to learn.”

Aaron sighed.

Robert squeezed Aaron’s hand, felt that zap, and felt dizzy and hopeless. They had to let go. “But it’s not enough, is it?”

“That’s not it…” Aaron shook his head. “You’re enough. Your the only one who is enough…” He laughed. “I tried, more than once, but… I almost married someone, not Tim, but the day came, and I found myself in the garage.”

“Yeah?”

“Us, there, that day… Those vows,” Aaron sighed. “I couldn’t say them to someone else.”

“No?”

“And Tim… He thought he’d change my mind, said he was gonna wear me down…but I was honest. I told him I’d never get married again. I thought I could be with him anyway, that it’d be enough… But that wasn’t fair to him, was it? Especially after, after you and I breathed the same air again.”

“Aaron?”

Aaron squeezed his hand, and his eyes closed. “I don’t know what to do… I know what I want, I just don’t know if it’s right.”

“What?” Robert shook his head. “You can’t…”

“I can’t what?”

“You can’t want me back, Aaron. That’s…”

“What?”

“Stupid… I’m not… I’ll mess it up again, somehow.”

“No,” Aaron shook his head. “We messed it up, Robert.”

“No, I did.”

“I didn’t fight for ya,” Aaron sighed. “I should’ve. I almost did more than once, but…”

“I wouldn’t have let you try.”

“Yeah, and I let that stand. I regret it.”

“Aaron… It was fourteen years, I served most of it… I’m old.”

“You were always old,” Aaron muttered. “And you don’t look it, you look amazing…just some more lines around your eyes, but I always loved the ones already there. And I’m gray.”

“Barely,” Robert whispered, and his free hand hit Aaron’s cheek. Beard stubble against his palm, the perfect scratch, and Aaron’s gray hair was really fine and white, and you’d only notice it if the light hit them just right. "You’re beautiful.“

"Shut up.”

“You are?” Robert smiled.

Aaron looked at him, and their gazes locked. Robert felt rocked by it harder than the first time it happened. Because he felt rocked by Aaron seeing him every single time it happened. He saw Aaron too, and Aaron’s eyes fell to his mouth for a split second, but it was enough…

Robert kissed him, and he felt like he was breathing for the first time in a decade.

~~~

Aaron sighed as Robert’s mouth landed against his own. It wasn’t a kiss, not yet. For a suspended moment, Aaron just felt like he exhaled a breath he’d been holding – for a long time – possibly since he lost Robert. He sighed, and his eyes closed, and the hand that’d taken Robert’s tightened its hold on him before his other landed on Robert’s chest, right over his heart. He felt it beating, wildly against his palm and he sighed again, he felt Robert breath slip right into his mouth and then they were kissing.

They swayed, their bodies crashing together, there was a push, and a pull and their hands let go, only for Robert’s to land behind his neck, thumb in his cheek, like their first kiss and so many that followed. Aaron grabbed at his arms, biceps that felt bigger than he remembered, and he frowned about why – there was only so much to do in prison. He made a sound, at remembering why Robert was gone…

Why he left…

It’d been easy to just focus on him being gone if he thought about the why it broke his heart, it made him miss him, it made him fight himself about allowing the time and space between them.

They’d never fell out of love.

Robert never did anything wrong.

He heard voices in his head that were his mum’s, Paddy’s, Cain’s… Talking about murder, but he shook his head. Because Robert had ended a monster, a real true life monster. He dug his hands into Robert’s arms and allowed himself to fall deeper into the kiss.

It was Robert, he inhaled and smelled him and felt it settle into him and over him, he pulled at him wanting him closer, wanting to feel the heat of his skin and see if remembered what his skin felt like… He was yanking and pulling, he felt himself losing his hi-vis vest, and he was on top of a desk, Jimmy’s he thought idly, but then his eyes fell on freckled skin…

He pulled more buttons apart and ran his hands up Robert’s chest and counted his favorite spray of freckles that were between his nipples. He pressed forward and kissed him there. Robert made a noise, both whimper and moan, and he did it again. Missed him making sounds like that, missed every fucking thing about him.

It overwhelmed him, and he was pulling back and looking up. He was on the desk, and Robert was standing between his legs, he felt large and looming over him. Aaron felt his insides curl, and he realized he was crying, just as Robert’s thumbs caught his tears. He looked at Robert’s face and saw his own chin, wobbling in that way it did, the way Aaron knew Robert hated.

Robert let out a deep shuddering breath, and their foreheads smacked together, Robert curled down over him and Aaron looking up, his legs around his waist – he thought he should move them but he couldn’t. He took a few breathes and tried to find words.

“Aaron?” Robert breathed his name, and it sounded to reverent.

“It’s just me,” he said.

“But it’s not…” Robert whispered. “It’s like you said. We have to consider Seb.”

Aaron nodded.

“I want you…” Robert’s voice was deep. “But I can’t if it’s not going to be…”

“Forever?”

“Yeah?”

“I wish I could make grand promises, I could make them sound believable.”

Aaron laughed.

“I love you, I’ll always love you but…”

“You do, though,” Aaron sighed and moved just enough to lean back, grab Robert’s face and stare at him. “You deserve what you want, you deserve happy Robert.”

“I destroy.”

“Tell Jack to shut up,” Aaron spat.

Robert’s mouth clicked closed.

Aaron sighed, and the guilt ate him. “I let myself pretend you really left me.”

“I did.”

“No. You let me go…” His voice broke. “You loved me, and you let me go… And I let you do it.”

“I thought it was a lifetime, Aaron.”

“But, your home…” Aaron sighed. “And I never, I never found anything close.”

Robert sighed.

“You’ve always said no one comes close…” Aaron sniffed.

“They don’t, no one could…”

“Same, Robert…” Aaron sighed. “Why do you think I broke up with Tim?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t want too…”

“What?”

“Hope?”

Aaron laughed. “It’s scary, it is… You’ve terrified me from the first second I touched ya…”

Robert laughed.

“I shoved you against that wall, remember… Told you right off for being a smug arse.”

“I remember.”

“But I had ya there, against that wall and I just wanted… I wanted ya, Robert, and it scared me. You scare me, I know you, I know what we have…and…” Aaron stared into Robert’s eyes, the color of a tropical ocean, full of tears, and he blinked. Making tears fall from his own eyes, he remembered drowning in a car and knowing he couldn’t live with it if Robert went with him…

But Robert would’ve in a heartbeat.

It was scary.

It wasn’t normal.

But nothing about his life ever was….

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

Robert nodded, and Aaron saw the same fear in his eyes.

“But…”

“Aaron, don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I do, though, don’t I, I always mean it… It’s you. I’ll always choose you.”

Robert smiled. “Aaron?”

“We belong together.”

“But…”

“We risk it,” Aaron lunged forward and kissed him, again and again, and spoke between the press of their lips. “We risk it, for us, for Seb… We won’t be happy apart, it won’t work, Robert, you know it… You know.”

“I know,” Robert whispered into his mouth.

“I love ya,” Aaron smiled.

“Always,” Robert whispered.

“I need ya…” They whispered in unison as they pulled and yanked at the rest of their clothes, remembering how to touch each other just right. Aaron realized he never really forgot the taste of Robert’s skin – it was a craving he’d never been able to sate.

Their intimacy was their own and it blew anything else he’d ever felt out of the water – because no one ever came close despite the lies he told himself. He panted into Robert’s neck and let him hold him as he came apart.

And Robert shook his arms, and he felt tears against his shoulder. He had his fingers in Robert’s hair and into his scalp. “It’s alright.”

“I just… Thought I’d lost you forever.”

“Never.”

Robert breathed. “Might have to prove it a few times,” but he laughed and their eyes locked. Robert winked, and it made a tear fall, Aaron pressed forward and kissed it off his cheek.

“I’ll prove it.”

Robert kissed his forehead, and Aaron felt himself cry. It was relief though and a bit of fear but knew he’d made the right choice. Robert was always his right choice. They fit together too well, they were…

“You’re my soulmate,’ Robert breathed, lips pressing the skin of his forehead again.

"I know,” Aaron whispered, buried his face into Robert’s chest. The only place he’d ever felt complete safety.

“Now what?” Robert asked after a few minutes.

“We get dressed… It’s bloody cold in here.”

Robert laughed, and reluctantly they moved apart and slipped back into their clothes, stealing glances, and Aaron felt younger than he had in years. He felt a bit giddy and grinned, and then he laughed loudly.

“What?”

“Valentine’s Day is one of our anniversaries now.”

Robert scoffed. “Why don’t we just make it all of February.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” He smiled.

Aaron knew he meant it too. “Come home? Tonight?”

Robert smiled. “Are you…”

“Of course, I’m sure…” Aaron smiled, and old memory flashed in his mind, of Robert on other February day, pulling two rings out of a wallet.

“Aaron?” Robert protested as Aaron moved out of his reach.

He found the safe and hurried over to it and turned the combination. He looked through the papers and things inside for the specific large blue envelope he’d put them in and found it. He pulled it out and turned toward Robert. “I had to keep them safe.”

“Aaron?”

He opened the envelope and pulled out a watch and two rings.

Robert’s mouth fell open.

“I was going to give this to Seb, like you wanted, on his eighteenth – now you can, and you could…”

“Aaron?” Robert licked his lips.

“I love you,” Aaron said. “I want this…” he stepped forward and took the cheap watch off of Robert’s wrist and snapped their watch back around his wrist where it belonged. Then he grabbed his left hand and held up one of the rings?

Robert nodded.

“Marry me again?” Aaron laughed as he slipped it on his finger.

“God, yes…I love you,” Robert smiled, and he took the other ring from Aaron, took Aaron’s hand and slipped it onto his finger. In that second, Aaron felt himself become whole again.

“Soon,” they both whispered.

They kissed, and Aaron whimpered when Robert broke it.

“We should go tell Seb,” he said.

“Give him a right big head.”

“Say he deserves it… He’s pretty brilliant. One his first schemes, and it’s worked.”

Aaron laughed. “He gets that from me.”

#like-the-first-time-i-kissed-you #robron #robron valentine exchange #robronvalentines

59 notes · View notes

mattkenzie · 4 years ago

Text

So with a lot of changes going on in June with all this talk about racism being a hot button topic indeed, WotC (Wizards of the Coast) wants to revamp and update the diversity of Dungeons and Dragons especially those that are centred around the orcs, drow and the Vistani

So one of the biggest things I would change about the real world is to have fantasy races (elves, dwarves and orcs... etc) but my biggest fear is that deep down... humans can sometimes be racist to one another and I’ll be adding even MORE racism into the world if my dream and ideas of fantasy races lived in the real world would become a nightmare. 😢

So the first thing I will want to address is our mean, green fighting machines (the orcs); So it all started when J.R.R Tolkien wrote the Lord of the Rings Trilogy so we were introduced to the orcs there and soon the orcs have became the staple of fantasy novels henchmen, brutes and thugs for our heroes to fight against. It’s sad that we have to picture them as stupid brutes and when I was younger in my Warhammer 40,000 and Warhammer Fantasy days (I was about 12 or 13 at that time) I hated the orcs because of how the books considered them to be these dumb brutes (nobody wanted to play with them because in 40,000 they have the lowest Armour Saves you have to roll a d6 and prey to the dice gods that you’ll get a 6 if your opponent doesn’t use an AP 6 (Amour Penetration) weapon (+5 if they have scrap armour) and in Fantasy Battles if you have a Dwarf Army (with I did) you get to reroll your failed rolls to hit giving us more chances roll to wound (eventually I stopped using the Dwarves ‘hatred’ rule that the other players say that I am the easiest person to win against because I choose not to use the hatred rule. (I just don’t know why I never heavy rely on the Hatred rule, why should hate win?)

When I started playing World of Warcraft after my college years (For the Alliance) I loved the Draenei but eventually there were times I wanted to know what it was like being the Horde. (you have your Undead, Tauren, Trolls and Blood Elves but what stood out more are the Orcs.) I sometimes want to know how the other half lives that I have slowly became accustomed to the Orcs, sure the Alliance had their Paladins as their exclusive class but the Horde had something different and I love the fact that they are spiritual (shamanism), No I have never seen the movie. But as a human, I started to find tusks appealing.

It’s funny how in the real world, eventhough I am a Caucasian male, I wanted to know what it’s like to be black. (with all that “Black Lives Matter”, I will admit that I used to think that all lives matter... but that is not the case anymore because some people aren’t treated as equals. We portray those who are different from us ‘savages’ even in modern media (of television, movies and video games) we portray people in the Middle East as Terrorists ever since the 9/11 attacks (September 11th) and we portray people who are black as gangsters and thugs and one of my favourite shows happens to be The Boondocks and while Riley Freeman plays the stereotype (that portrayal needs to stop), my favourite character is Huey Freeman and for a fictional character, he challenged the way I think about things). I have made some awesome friends at Church who are black but they’ve broken that mould. I went to college with them (but we didn’t go to the same department mind you) while I was getting a higher education, they have been studying to become physicians (they are smarter than me). They go to interviews to not get hired (instead they hire someone less qualified) they have been stopped by the police for driving cars they shouldn’t normally have (but earned it fair and square).

Heck there were times where they didn’t fit in the black community because they acted white. “How!?” (I’m sorry, how you can be rejected for being black on the outside but have personality traits of a Caucasian?) just to be called a ‘Sell Out’ or a ‘Bounty Bar’.

So anyway back to my D&D discussion, to me when I’ve played my first ever D&D 5E game with a gaming group known as the “Natural Oneduhs” my first character that I’ve created is Kamui, the Half-Orc (my DM wanted Kamui to either be a shade of green or grey, but I was having none of that “All orcs should be green or grey.” so I chose to stick to my guns to be Caucasian). I played against type because orcs in a fantasy setting (with their +2 Str and +1 Con they would be suited to play as Barbarians or Fighters) so because orcs aren’t an intelligent race I thought I’d kick things up a bit so I chose to play as a Bard. After these sessions with the (playing in the DM’s world and no stories for the individual players) Kamui grew up in a human society because the orcs rejected Kamui for not being an orc, but is always portrayed as a monster no matter the colour of his skin, (in 2nd Edition orcs aren’t a playable race, it was later introduced in 3rd Edition) sick and tired of the prejudice he sees where people see Kamui as an orc and not an actual person only one person accepted Kamui.

“What I hate about society is people tend to use violence as a weapon to get their point across (which ends up breaking into war) instead we need to use our voices and our own words to speak volumes.”

So the books that I have read where the orcs/half-orcs have became the anti-heroes is The Grey Bastards and True Bastards by Jonathan French (it’s the most boyish book I ever read) so I have Volo’s Guide to Monsters and the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount.

Now the Vistani (they are a travelling group of gypsies commonly found in Barovia in any Ravenloft campaign) and in the real world we look down upon the Romani gypsies because they couldn’t follow our “rules of society” by dumping their old trailers (fly-tipping), setting up camps in public spaces and being in large groups (I’m a large man, but I’m scared of getting ganged up on or mugged by them when I am walking down the road) not exactly Esmarelda from Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I don’t know why, but I tend to see them hanging out in boxing clubs and riding (or racing) in those 1 horse carriages or sometimes having lunch in the carvery (and ignore social rules like changing a baby on the dinner table) which is gross, “We having changing facilities!”, Oh it’s your kids birthday and you let them watch a 12 rated movie instead of a U rated film yet your kids choose to cause havoc in the cinema “Yep, still ignoring the rules of society!” and then having the audacity to be dumping popcorn on me when watching Avengers Assemble because your kids couldn’t follow the rules! in this TV show on Channel 4 My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. I never played a Vistani before but it would be interesting to see more variant humans in the game.

In real life, with what I had to put up with, I think I would be scared to make a friend with the Romani (learnt behaviour) but I admire them for being a tight knit group, you don’t see that in modern day society, we are all wrapped our heads around social media.

I can picture them with Animal Handling and Performance as their skills, have a proficiency with a musical instrument.

The Drow (Dark Elves) have been painted as sadomasochist and well... “evil” but what I find fascinating and appreciate them is their religion because they have female priests. What I am saying is that in the real world, it’s a rare sight to see a female Vicar (I feel that it’s quite progressive but other people (old men and traditionalists) are apprehensive about having a woman to preach about the gospel.) Look at Matthew Mercer’s Critical Role campaign 2 and take a look at the Krynn Dynasty.

I never played a drow before and I don’t think I shall anytime soon. I know that a popular drow that is well known is Drizz’t and to fight against the stereotypical world view that all drow are evil because of Lolth, the Spider Queen... I don’t think a religion should define you. But it’s like I said, I believe that this has ushered in having a female priest (if you’ve seen the Victor of Dibbley you might understand where I am coming from.)

For me the Orcs in my world are indeed a tribal society (and I give them a Polynesian/New Zealand/Aztec/Hawaiian flair to them, instead of “Makin’ um as da dum broots dey are”).

5 notes · View notes

luckyspike · 5 years ago

Text

Spooky Halloween - A Good Omens Fanfiction

in which the line between the real world and the supernatural gets a little thinner

and the ineffables deal with it as well as they can

Everyone who knew Crowley’s true nature - these days, this included the Them, and a select few adults - assumed that Halloween would be prime time for the demon. It was, after all, the eve of the spirits, when the physical world pulled in closest with the supernatural, and the borders between the two broke down. It was the day when spooky was loved and celebrated, and surely Crowley would be all about that, wouldn’t he?

It was why Anathema was struggling particularly hard with Crowley’s outright refusal to show up at Adam’s Halloween party. “Come on, Crowley, you have to be kidding, what do you mean you don’t go out on Halloween?”

“I don’t,” he replied firmly. In the background, she could hear something that sounded suspiciously like plants being ripped out of the ground. “Stay in all day. 24 hours.”

“But it’s spooky. You love spooky.”

“Yes, but you know there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.”

“Oh?” She thought it over. “Like, too reminiscent of Hell, because I could convince him to tone down the decorations.”

“No, not that.” She heard him huff, and there came the sound of a body flopping into the grass. She had trouble not smiling, imaging the demon sprawled out on the lawn of the cottage, because she knew him and knew that was precisely what he was doing. “Me.”

“What about you?”

He groaned. “You can be really thick sometimes, you know it, Book-Girl?” She bristled, almost snapped a reply, but he had plowed on. “The boundaries between the human world and the supernatural are blurred. My corporation can only keep it together so well when that border breaks down.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, Aziraphale’s too,” he added, as an afterthought. “But he just gets sort of gimpy on that leg and has some extra eyeballs. He could - and he has - pass it off as a costume if he really needed to. Whereas me, well …” He sighed. “If I don’t just go serpent altogether I can hold a vaguely-human shape but it sort of stretches the limits of credibility to say it’s a costume or makeup or what have you.”

“Ah. Sorry I, uh, didn’t think of it that way. I think I understand now.” And she did. Crowley made some kind of non-specific noise on the other end of the line, and she went on, “Seriously, sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be. Natural assumption, really. And I have gone out on Halloween,” he added, “but because I needed to do some proper demon things. The scales and the horns really do help.”

She tried to imagine Crowley looking anything like a proper demon, and failed miserably. “I can imagine,” she said anyway. “Well, alright. I’ll tell the Them … something. Say you’re not feeling well or something.”

“Just tell them the truth. Adam’s the Antichrist, I hardly think demons doing demon things is going to be a shocking revelation.”

“Well, no, but I think if I tell them you’re spending the day cooped up because you look properly scary for once they’ll be even more disappointed you didn’t put in an appearance. You know how they are.”

“True.” He sighed. “That’s fine then, tell them whatever. And, ah, enjoy the party.”

“You’ll be alright by the weekend? I was thinking that new movie about the possessed priest -”

“Oh, yeah. Like I said, twenty-four hours, back to normal. Mostly. Might be a bit of ash around the fingertips but I’ll definitely be fine by Saturday.”

“Good,” she said, like they were discussing a brewing cold or sore throat, and not Crowley becoming an eldritch horror for a short period of time. “Alright, well, uh, good luck I guess. Hope it’s not too bad.”

“It’ll be awful, but thanks all the same.”

It always started at the stroke of midnight. Crowley and Aziraphale waited for it, knew it was coming, and took up stations where they would both be most comfortable. Aziraphale settled in n the library, books stacked high and at the ready, and an old but serviceable cane leaned up against the side table. Crowley carefully spread a few cheap old blankets over the couch and placed the iPad and his phone in easy reach. Preemptively, they both let their wings out, and Aziraphale took the time to rub some of the ache out of Crowley’s bad wing while his hands were still unfettered by eyeballs.

“We really have to look into fixing this,” he murmured, working the stiff joint of the wrist a little looser and ignoring the way it cracked, bones grinding arthritically. Crowley made a little noise of appreciation. “Even just the joint - I don’t know how we could get the feathers to grow back, but if we could get this wrist less contracted -”

“Can’t be done.” Crowley sighed, and Aziraphale let the wing go, the better to allow the demon to slump sideways into his chest. “Would’ve done it if I could.”

“I know that, dear boy.” He ran his hands down the leading edge of the wing, following the warped bone into Crowley’s shoulder and rubbing the muscle where the limb attached. Crowley sighed again, happily this time. “But I’ve never helped you look for a solution before.”

“S’pose not. Still don’t think there’s much to do about it, though. I mean, short of getting God or Raphael to fix it.” He snorted. “And fat chance of that.”

“I’ll have a look anyway. Perhaps - oh.”

The clock on the buffet chimed. One, two, three, all the way to midnight. Crowley groaned. “Here we go.”

It wasn’t a painful transformation, but both had scars from the Great War, and the aftereffects weren’t enjoyable. When all was said and done, Aziraphale was leaned back into the couch, massaging his right thigh, and Crowley was carefully extricating himself from the angel’s lap, mindful of the ash raining from his form and Aziraphale’s newly-visible multitude of eyes. Cautious of the eye now in his palm, Aziraphale grabbed the tip of Crowley’s broken halo - horns, now - and guided it away from his wing. “Careful.”

“Sorry.” They exchanged a look. Exasperated, frustrated, but most of all, tired. It wasn’t a terrible trade-off, one day each year, but neither particularly enjoyed the in-between form that Halloween forced, and it had grown old over the years. “I hate this.”

“Me too.” Aziraphale sighed, and closed most of his eyes, although a few along his wings stayed open. “Twenty-four hours.”

“Ugh.” Crowley made a vague gesture, head leaned back over the sofa, eyes closed. “Don’t even feel like doing anything.”

“Take a nap?” Aziraphale suggested. He stood, hobbling from the couch to the chair, and picked a book from the top of the pile. “I’ll be reading.”

“Mm. What book?”

“Oh? Ah.” He didn’t bother to close it again, and instead blinked open the eye on his palm to read the cover. “It’s contemporary.” This was said with the same tone as he might have informed Crowley of a particularly insistent customer in the shop. “But I suppose it was well-reviewed. It’s a signed first edition.” Crowley made an interested little noise. “‘The Da Vinci Code’ by a Dan Brown. Supposedly has a good deal of Bible lore.”

“Haven’t you read that?” The demon looked up, grinning, and Aziraphale didn’t mind the fangs. “C’mon, you can’t have missed that.”

“I didn’t. I’m just getting to it now. Have you read it?”

“Nah. Downloaded it ages ago but then everything happened with the kids and I forgot about it. Meant to, though.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “I could read aloud, if you’d like. Good a way to spend the next 24 hours as any.”

Crowley hummed. “Can’t say I disagree. If you’re going to read, though, ah, and I don’t need hands -”

“Of course, dear.” There was a relieved hiss, and after a few seconds an enormous black winged snake was draped over the couch, coils heaped on coils to fit on the now-sagging piece of furniture. Leisurely, Crowley slithered forward, off the arm of the couch and across the empty space between there and Aziraphale’s chair. “Come around,” he encouraged, while Crowley draped the front length of himself around Aziraphale’s shoulders, until the tip of his snout was tucked under the angel’s chin, and the length of himself with his wings was resting on the floor, wings splayed out lazily. “Comfortable?”

“Yesss. You?”

“Budge off my right shoulder a bit, there’s a love. Right.” He turned from the title page, and started to read: “Fact: The Priory of Scion - a European secret society founded in 1099 - is a real organization.” He stopped. Frowned.

“Wasss it? Don’t remember that one,” asked the Serpent of Eden.

“I’m fairly certain it was not,” replied the angel of the Eastern Gate. He read on, expression growing more disapproving by the word. “In 1975 Paris's Bibliotheque Nationale discovered parchments known as Les Dossiers Secrets, identifying numerous members of the Priory of Sion, including Sir Isaac Newton, Botticelli, Victor Hugo, and Leonardo da Vinci.’ Well, that’s utter tosh. Who published this pulp?”

Crowley’s forked tongue flicked the tip of his nose, and Aziraphale heard a hissing sort of laugh. “Who caressss? Go on, I want to hear thisss.”

All in all, it was not a bad way to spend 24 hours. By the midway point of chapter one, Aziraphale was so bent out of shape about the inaccuracies that he all but forgot about the ache in his leg, or that Crowley dribbled a little ash onto the rug every time he laughed. At some point, cocoa appeared, and Aziraphale pretended not to notice as Crowley sipped at it, even though the sheer size of his snout made stealth a bit difficult, considering the gentle thunk he made every time he shoved his nose into the cup. The reading went a bit slow, too, considering they had to stop roughly every five paragraphs to criticise something, or point out some inaccuracy, but the interludes were mutually enjoyable, and neither found they minded.

Ordinarily, Aziraphale would have been able to read a book of that length within 24 hours. It was the reason for the other books settled within easy reach, after all. But when the clock again chimed midnight, and the eyes faded back into the ether, Aziraphale just paused, marked his place with a finger between the pages, and took a sip of fresh, warm tea. “Well, there we are. Another Halloween.”

“Yeah.” Crowley stretched his newly-returned limbs - wings included, he was loath to put them away yet if he didn’t need to, it felt so good to let them breathe now and then - and flopped back onto the couch. “Not the worst I’ve had. Possibly top ten best, actually.”

“This book is dreadful.”

The demon patted the sofa next to him. “Well, yeah, but in a good way. C’mere, I gotta know what happens.” Aziraphale grumbled a little but he obliged, moving over to the couch once again with his usual gait, although he too left his wings out, albeit without the eyes. He settled, and Crowley slouched up against him, a tumbler of scotch suddenly in his hand. “You think they find the Grail?”

“I rather hope not, honestly.” Aziraphale scowled. “It’d be a real shame if he butchered that as well.”

“You know there’s a prequel?”

“No.”

“Honest truth. Called Angels and Demons.” Crowley waved his free hand. “Whole series, actually. Never read any of them.” He raised an eyebrow. “Might be fun?”

“You have a strange definition of fun, Crowley.” Absently, he kissed the top of Crowley’s head, ignoring the way the demon’s hair tickled his face. “Comes with being a demon, I suppose.”

“Comes with having a sense of humor. We should read them.”

“No.”

“Well not right now. Later.” He gestured vaguely. “After I get the garden cleaned up for the winter, maybe.”

“Hm. I’ll have time to read a few palate-cleansers.”

“There’s the spirit.” He snuggled in closer, right wing wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulders and the left covering himself like some kind of massive feathery blanket. “Go on, let’s see if they get the Grail.”

Aziraphale sighed, defeated and resigned, although Crowley could see the tiny movement well enough to note the little twitch at the corner of the angel’s mouth, almost a smile. “Very well.”

He turned the page, and kept on reading.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #the da vinci code #spooky eldritch angels and demons #dont let the text fool you #i unabashedly love the da vinci code #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much

46 notes · View notes

survivingthejungle · 5 years ago

Text

foreigner’s god iii

absolutely none of u want this but you know what?? im fucking posting it anyways bc i LIKE IT

so here’s part 3

If the bond between the sons of Ragnar hadn't already been split after avenging their father, then they certainly were the moment that Ivar picked up his axe and launched it into Sigurd's chest. But when Ivar offered that his brothers remaining were welcome to join him on his journey to continue conquering more land and searching for the princess he had met not long before, something stirred in Hvitserk's heart. He was willing to look past the atrocity that Ivar had committed, if only for a while, if it meant that the dream he had been having could finally be answered.

When the youngest Ragnarson happened upon Floki and Helga planning to leave with their stolen child from Andalusia, he was half surprised that he was able to convince them to stay around for him. He was honestly devastated by the fact that he'd murdered his own brother, and Floki knew this better than anyone: one look at Ivar begging them to stay with him was all that he needed to know that Ivar would crumble without the one person who'd always been there for him. "My heart is broken," he whispered, voice hoarse from sobbing.

Floki hugged him tightly. "It will repair," he promised. "Think of your Liusaidh. Ivar the Boneless, scourge of the world. You will survive this."

—

"The Saxons are in disarray. This is a good opportunity. We have the resources to make a permanent settlement," Ubbe reasoned.

"D'you agree, Ivar?" Hvitserk silently hoped that he wouldn't, but his tone remained impartial.

"I don't want to disband the army. In fact, I want to continue the war against the Saxons while we are still in a position of strength! My suggestion is that we go back north, to where we defeated Ælle. We should establish a permanent camp, as you say," he gestured to Ubbe, "But near the coast. From where we can raid wherever we want."

"Our father's dream," Ubbe argued, using a half eaten chicken leg to punctuate his point, "Was that we wouldn't be just raiders. That we would behave in a different way." "You're not listening, Ubbe. We- we have to have a stronghold. If we go north, we are closer to our own lands, and shipping routes… we can build an impregnable fortress." "Where?" Hvitserk goaded.

"I've heard of a town. Called York." His brothers, clearly interested, stopped eating for a moment to listen. "It is built on a major river and it is not far from the sea. And I think that… we should take it."

Ubbe dissented. "No. It would seem like a withdrawal."

"Yes. Yes, it would," Ivar concurred, "But it is only tactical. Surely you understand, Ubbe, if we establish ourselves in the middle of the country, then we are surrounded by enemies! In York, we are near our home. Right, Hvitserk?" Hvitserk glanced at Ubbe, hopeful. "I agree with Ivar. We should go north, and take York."

"That's good," Ubbe said, fake cheerfully, and left the tent. Hvitserk and Ivar shared a look.

"What about your Princess in Inis, Ivar?" Hvitserk prompted. "York is not near that other coast."

"No," he admitted, "But that is why we are going to Inis first, and then taking York."

"What do you mean?" he promptly spat back. "You just said— "

"I know what I said to Ubbe. But, brother, we are going to raid the other kingdom first, take what I am seeking, and then return to York. And…" he paused for a brief moment. "I am sure there is something you would like from Inish as well. The princess has plenty of sisters," he suggested.

Hvitserk wouldn't show it, but the thought of that excited him. He wondered if the girl that kept appearing in his dreams could possibly be one of the sisters Ivar mentioned.

—

"They're coming." Liusaidh woke up early in the morning, gasping for air like she hadn't breathed in hours. She had burrowed into Caridwen's side in the middle of the night during a particularly loud thunderstorm. The mac Neíll children all loved the rain, of course, but it was somewhat of a ritual for them to all gather in Caridwen's room when there was a midnight storm.

Niamh, on the other side of Caridwen and not moving a single inch, called out muffled by the covers, "What are you on about, Lius?"

"Vikings. They're coming. I— I had a dream about it. They're in England and they're coming to Inis."

"Don't be ridiculous," Brigid called from the other end of Caridwen's bed. "Vikings don't want to come here."

"I'm not kidding, both of you! It was like a vision; like I could see it happening in real life, but sped up very fast."

Labhraín was only half awake at that moment, but understood perfectly what Liusaidh was describing. "She's right," she whispered, voice hoarse. "I'm having a dream like it."

Caridwen, now fully awake and aware, sat up and got out of bed, walking over to her nightstand and pouring a jug of water into a bowl to wash her face. "Well then," she mumbled, "I suppose we should tell someone?" Brigid nodded.

"We should tell Morrigan, she knows all about these things."

"What do I know all about, you wee rascals?" Morrigan asked, entering into Caridwen's room to prepare them for the day.

"Liusaidh and Labhraín have been havin' the same dream about the same wee Vikings comin' to the island," Brigid told her. Morrigan nodded.

"Well then, wains, I'd say we'd better figure out what it all means then, wouldn't you?"

—

The princesses all trailed alongside or behind Morrigan as she led them to the drawing room in their section of the castle where they would all have their lessons— though, for today, instead of learning embroidery or music or writing, they'd be learning how to interpret the youngest mac Neílls most recent dreams. As the five young ladies took seats all around the room, Morrigan instructed Liusaidh and Labhraín to sit in front of her and relay their dreams in as much detail as they could recall.

Liusaidh went first, informing them about how she saw their beloved home, billowing in smoke, being plundered and pillaged by Viking raiders; how she saw her sisters all being pulled away from one another, while one group fled to safety and the other was lead to the Viking ships; how she could clearly see the face of the Viking boy that they had met in England not so long ago, and how he was the one dragging her away from her destroyed home.

Labhraín, still mildly bothered by Liusaidh's own dream, was then instructed to share her own. It had been recurring for several nights, and always the same: the same bloodied Viking man charging at her, always running away, but never fast enough, and being captured and dragged away to their heathen ships. Morrigan nodded understandingly upon hearing both dreams while the other three sisters waited with bated breath to hear her conclusion. "Well, lasses, it seems we have some mystics on our hands. Those are purely prophetic dreams if I've ever heard 'em— and I have, best you believe. What we're to do now is tell your Ma and Da all about what you've been seein', and let them decide how to deal with it."

—

As it turned out, the girls' parents decision on how to deal with it was to simply not deal with it at all. Despite all Morrigan's attempts to convince the king and queen that their daughters' dreams were truly seeing the future, and that they had much to fear, they couldn't be made to believe it.

"Girls," their father began, "I know that you believe that your dreams are tellin' the future. But I can promise you, with all I know, that it's simply not gonna happen! Your dreams are just the results of having too active imaginations, and from bein' at each other's sides all the live-long day. Lord above, you'd think the two wains were more twins than the actual twins," their father muttered to their mother, who simply nodded in response. "Now go to your studies please, all of you. Thank you for letting us know about your concerns, lasses, but there's nothing to worry about."

—

The next morning, Ivar and Hvitserk took off with a small band of men — enough to do damage, but not enough to make the rest of their great army less powerful— and headed off toward the opposite coast to sail to Inis. They'd informed Ubbe at the last minute, telling him of their plans to capture the kingdom and steal away a princess or two, and he was less than pleased with the idea. "You can't just raid an entire country on a whim, Ivar," he'd scolded, "These things have to be planned. What if you don't take enough men and get everyone killed, huh? This is a horrible idea. And what if the Saxons push us out while you are one?"

"The Saxons could not push us out no matter how hard they try; even if I take some men away for now. We are still stronger than them in every possible way, Ubbe. Have faith, brother! We have a plan. We know their kingdom does not have a very strong army. It will be an easy raid. Like when father sacked the monastery at Lindisfarne so long ago. There is nothing to worry about; and we will be back before you can even miss me," he smirked smugly, patting his oldest brother's cheek.

And so, despite his protests, Ivar and Hvitserk headed west to Inis, to capture the kingdom of Tara and, perhaps, even some princesses.

—

Within a week of Liusaidh and Labhraín's dreams first recurring, there had been news that Caridwen's betrothed, Alfred, was deathly ill, that the kingdom of Wessex had been taken over by Vikings, and that a band of "rogue" Vikings were heading west. Caridwen, who hadn't seen Alfred in close to three years, was devastated. There was no news that he had died (yet), but his mother Judith claimed that he wasn't showing signs of recovering any time soon. The two young royals had exchanged letters back and forth rather regularly after they'd first met one another all those years ago, and she was distraught that he was so ill and so far from home.

Her mother and father were concerned as well; not only for Alfred's health, but also for their daughter's future. "If Alfred doesn't survive, who will be left for her? His brother? Christ in heaven, Danu, it's not that I want to send the girl away, but we need this alliance."

"All we can do for now is pray, Aéd. We can't start makin' arrangements for the wain before anything even happens. Have faith that he'll be alright. If only for Caridwen."

Eoghan and his younger sisters, minus the eldest, were more concerned about the whispers of rogue Vikings and that they were coming west. Out in the forest once again, climbing trees and picking berries, they discussed their theories.

"Labhraín and I told you all that Vikings were coming. We had dreams and everything, but you didn't believe us."

"You don't even know that they're coming here, Liusiadh," Niamh called up to her sister, sitting on a tree branch and whittling a twig she'd found. "Y'have one dream and all of a sudden think you're a mystic; sweet Jesus."

"Niamh! You watch your words talkin' about the Lord!" Eoghan chastised her. The two of them were sitting below the trees on a quilt that they'd brought from the castle.

"Aye, Niamh, you shouldn't swear," Brigid called from beyond the bushes, picking berries. "Because when you swear, our Lady in Heaven, she cries her tears; and then make rain." She appeared in the clearing with the rest of her siblings. "Isn't that right, Eoghan?"

He stared at her for a moment, baffled, before slowly nodding. "Aye… so it is, Brigid. So it is." Brigid, pleased with his assurance, nodded once and smiled before hopping back off to pick more fruits.

"I think you're all dense as rocks for not believin' our dreams," Labhraín called. She was sitting on a tree branch opposite Liusaidh, weaving together flowers that she'd picked on their way to the forest. "Even Morrigan said so."

"Eoghan?" Liusaidh called to her brother. "How long d'you suppose it would take some Vikings to reach our coast from Wessex?" Physically, she was trying her hardest not to appear bothered; but the shaking of her voice betrayed the steadiness of her face.

"Week, week and a half maybe, Lius," he told her honestly. Eoghan was never the type to lie to someone for their own comfort. "But there's no way to know for sure whether or not these Vikings are even trying to come to Inis."

"Aye, not until they show up right on the coastline," Brigid deadpanned. "'Course, by then, it's too late. Y'know, because we're already trapped."

"Christ, Brigid! D'you have any damn empathy for your sister at all?" Niamh yelled. Eoghan, peeved with her profanity, launched an elderberry at her forehead. "Catch yerself on, Eoghan," she shot at him.

"What's your problem lately, Niamh?" Labhraín asked. "Just gets me angry that you're all actin' as if there isn't something wrong when there clearly is." After a beat of silence, she continued. "Our oldest sister's bein' married off to a wain she met one time; and if that wain dies 'cause he's sick, then Da will make her marry his older brother, who might as well be an old man. And no one seems to care except me, not even Caridwen. And here you and Liusaidh are havin' dreams about Viking raids! And no one's been battin' an eye at any of it! It's pretty damn disgraceful, if you ask me!"

"Take a deep breath, dheirfúir. You'll pass out," Brigid reminded her through a mouthful of elderberries.

"Brigid," Niamh started, eyes closed and eerily calm. "I'm this close to launchin' you off that cliff." Brigid backed up a pace, eyes widening for a moment.

—

They came in the early hours of the morning.

The two youngest, still plagued by their possibly prophetic dreams, awoke a while after the witching hour, and found their way to one another in the castle's dim hallways. It was Liusaidh's idea to take the horses out and ride to clear their minds; while Labhraín didn't agree at first, she eventually caved. The girls left without stirring a single person in the castle from their sleep.

They were too far inland from the coast to see the ships landing on the shore or hear the hollers coming from aboard.

The sun had only just begun to rise on the day that their futures would be altered forever.

—

"This is the place, Ivar? You're sure?" Hvitserk asked. They were just moments away from reaching the shore.

"Exact place? No, Hvitserk, I am not sure. I have never been to this place before, have you?" he snapped. "If it is not here, we will find it. But I know it is the right country."

"I can only hope, Hvitserk muttered. When the ships were beached and the castle was in sight, the rogue band of Vikings poured out onto the sand; and once Ivar's chariot was prepared, they headed toward the place where he prayed to the fates that his Liusaidh would be.

—

After the girls had calmed themselves during their walk in the forest, they returned to the open field to find their horses gone. "Maybe they got spooked by a snake," Labhraín tried.

"There are no snakes in Inis, fool. Remember Naomh Pádraig?"

"Something else, then. A bear, maybe?" "I hope not." They shared a solemn look and took off back toward the castle. "I'm sure they went home, though."

"We should hurry back, then. In case anyone sees them without us and thinks we're in trouble."

Once the walk was purely downhill, the girls were shocked at the state of their castle home. There were ships surrounding the coast, the gates were destroyed, windows were smashed, almost everything outside, was turned over or broken, and — there were Vikings. Real life Vikings. Everywhere. They were frozen on the spot, unable to say or do anything out of pure shock, until one Viking took note of them and pointed them out to the one who seemed to be the leader. He was riding a chariot pulled by a white horse, and was the only one not running around and wreaking havoc, so he must have been the one in charge. He took off uphill toward them and they ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction, their bodies working faster than their brains.

—

Ivar called for his brother. "Hvitserk!" he yelled, "There are two of them. Maybe one is the girl from your dream!" It was obvious that Ivar was making fun of him, but his curiosity piqued and got the best of him; he followed his brother's chariot as fast as his legs would move towards the ones Ivar was chasing after.

—

He was gaining on them and they were running out of options. They still had not reached the top of the hill, and the girls' legs were going weak on them. Labhraín tripped over a well-hidden rock, which put Liusaidh plenty of paces ahead of her. She almost stopped when she realized that her sister had fallen, but the chariot was getting too close. "Keep running, Liusaidh!" Labhraín called, and she obeyed her sister. She took off parallel to where she'd fallen, hoping to deter him from getting to her instead, and it seemed that her plan worked. The man in the chariot, wearing a heavy-duty metal helmet, took one look at Labhraín and went after the youngest instead. He was gaining on her faster and faster, and was getting closer and closer, until all Liusaidh could do was look straight ahead and pray to God he was farther away than he sounded.

Her prayers were not answered in the way that she was hoping. All of a sudden, the white horse and chariot were running up ahead of her and came to an abrupt halt, blocking her path. She was met face to face — well, face to helmeted face — with the man who had been pursuing her for so long. "Hello, Liusaidh. It is so nice to see you again."

That voice, she thought, it sounds so familiar.

He took off his helmet. It was the Viking prince she had met all those years ago in Wessex — it was Ivar the Boneless. "You are so tired from running," he observed, and suddenly she was too aware of her panting breaths and heavy legs. She noted that he was speaking in English to her. "Why don't you come up here and sit down?" he offered.

"Níl aon slí," she spat at him, glaring daggers. "Bastaird Lochlannach."

He smiled condescendingly. "Well. I do not know what you just said, but I can tell that it wasn't very nice. Am I correct?" She remained stone cold. "I don't want to hurt you, Liusaidh. But you need to come with me willingly, or we will have problems." Still, she refused to move. He entertained her defiance for a moment, but was fed up with it very quickly. "You know," he started, "It would be such a shame if anything happened to your other sisters back at the castle. My men are there now, making sure they don't do anything… irrational. But if I were to give them permission… Well, I'm sure you wouldn't be too happy to hear what would happen to them— "

"Stop," she interrupted him in English. "Don't… don't hurt my sisters. I'll go. Just leave my family alone."

"Very wise. Come on, then," he gestured to a small, bench-like seat next to him on the chariot. "It isn't very Christian to keep your guests waiting, is it?" Begrudgingly, she accepted his outstretched hand to pull her up into the chariot, and sat down uncomfortably next to him. He refused to let go of her hand, instead bringing it up to his mouth. "You know," he began, the horse heading back to the castle and the shoreline, "I have been very excited to see you again since we last met. Do you remember? In Wessex?"

"Yes," she hoarsely whispered. "I remember."

"That was the last time my father was alive. Did you know?" She shook her head. "King Ecbert pawned him off to be killed. My brothers and I began planning our revenge as soon as we heard. And we finally got it, all these years later."

"Why did you come here? We had nothing to do with your father's death."

"Oh, I know." He released her hand and brought his own to smooth over her hair, like he was petting her. "I did not come here for revenge. I came for you."

She was speechless, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

"You know, I never forgot about you," he told her, seemingly changing the subject. He smiled down at her. "I always knew that I would find you again one day."

—

While her sister took off in the other direction, Labhraín realized that the man on the chariot was not the only one chasing them. There was a man coming after her on foot, sword in hand, blood splattered on his face; she got an overwhelmingly unsettling feeling of deja-vu.

He seemed to feel it, too, because she could swear that she saw his eyes widen in realization when he saw her face. If it were at all possible, he began running toward her even faster. She stumbled over herself in a rapid attempt to stand back up and began running as fast as her legs would move her. She periodically looked back over her shoulder to take note of how close he was, and he was rapidly gaining on her. The hill still had yet to peak, and she was losing energy.

She misjudged a crucial step and stumbled again, and her exhaustion caught up to her as the Viking did. (She realized now, what was so familiar to her — this was her dream. This was going to happen all along. She couldn't escape it.) She could hear him breathing heavily, getting closer and closer, footsteps pounding on the ground. He grabbed her arm roughly, once he was within reach of her, and pulled her toward him.

He brought his sword to her back to keep her from trying to escape and brought his other hand to grab her face now. He said something to her in what she could only assume was Norse, a bone-chilling smile on his face. At her terrified and confused expression, he repeated himself in English. "It's you."

"Níl aithne agam ortsa." She tried to shove him off of her and escape the pressing sword, but he held her tighter in response.

"Ah," he warned. "We've already defeated your people. It will be best for you to obey me. Come," he ordered, and she glared defiantly instead. He adopted an evil smirk and ran his thumb over her lips; she felt half tempted to bite, but decided not to. He then abruptly grabbed the back of her head and brought his sword to her neck, eliciting a small gasp, and maneuvered them both so that he was behind her, hand guiding the small of her back and sword still ready to slice. "You are a stealthy little thing, you know?" he mumered in her ear. "You have been showing up in my dreams at night for quite some time. I was beginning to think that I would not ever find you."

"What do you want from us?"

"Oh, I don't care for anything your kingdom can give me. I only wanted you. And now that I've gotten when I came here for, I will go back to England with my brothers, and we will take over York."

"Alright," she tried to reason. "You've gotten me. You've gotten what you came here for. Then you must leave immediately and not harm my people."

"That's not my decision, pretty girl. You will just have to hope that your sister doesn't anger Ivar. He is in charge of all of this," he gestured to the scene before them. Hundreds of violent Viking warriors running amuck and causing panic in the streets of Tara.

A thousand more questions ran around her head, but she took a deep breath — the sharp metal of Hvitserk's sword pressing into her throat — and remained silent, tilting her chin up just a hair. If she was going to die, she would die with all the dignity she could muster.

—

They all four returned back to within the city walls not long after the two girls had been captured. It was evident that Hvitserk had not been lying when he said that Ivar was in charge of the army, because when he entered into the crowd of violent foreign invaders with Liusaidh at his side, they all fell silent and watched him closely, as if they were a pack of hunting dogs and he was their master returning with a fox. He stopped the chariot briefly, yelling something out to his warriors, and they all turned back the way they came and headed back to their longboats.

Liusaidh and Labhraín shared a panicked look when the two men who had seized them led them into the castle instead. "Dúirt sé go raibh grúpa fir ina ngiall," Liusaidh informed her sister, refusing to speak English in front of the two men.

"An gceapann tú go ndéanfaidh sé iad a mharú?"

"Níl — níl a fhios agam," Liusaidh croaked, a heavy tear sliding down her cheek.

Ivar interrupted their conversation. "I hope you are not trying to plan an escape," he threatened, grabbing Liusaidh roughly by the hair and forcing her to look at him.

"We're not!" she cried, scalp burning sharply.

"Good," he responded, "Because it would not end well." He released his hold on her and lightly tapped her cheek. Ivar abandoned his horse and chariot and instead grabbed a pair of very heavy-duty metal crutches. He also grabbed two short spare ropes, throwing one to Hvitserk, and tied Liusaidh's wrists together, leaving enough on one side to pull her along with him like a very tragic leash. Hvitserk did the same to Labhraín's wrists, tying them so tightly that she gave a weak yelp when he tugged on them. He said nothing, nor did he make any attempts to loosen then, only smirking darkly.

They entered into the castle, quickly finding where the Viking warriors were keeping the rest of the royal family hostage. They were in the girls' music room; Caridwen, Brigid, and Niamh were still in their simple white cotton nightgowns, same as Liusaidh and Lahbraín. Their father and brother were both wearing soft cotton trousers, one pair brown and the other a dark grey. Eoghan's tunic was a shade of white like his sisters' clothes, and King Aéd was wearing a deeply dyed red one. Their mother, also in her nightgown, had managed to also throw a deep green cloak over herself, dreading to be seen by such heathen invaders in her sleepwear. Ivar spoke to his men, surrounding the family with swords pointed and ready, in their native language, and the men backed away. "Your highness," he began, mock-bowing before King Aéd and still holding onto Liusaidh's rope. "We are very sorry to disturb your sleep. My most sincere apologies. But we got what we came for, as you can see." He lifted Liusaidh's hands with the rope, and Hvitserk did the same. The two girls looked pleading and sorrowful to their family, but understood that it would be much too risky for any of them to make any sudden movements. "So we will be on our way now. — And, don't try anything when we leave. I have made a promise to sweet Liusaidh here that I will not kill any of you, but if you try to hurt me or my brother... my hand may slip," he threatened. He then barked an order to his men to leave the castle and head back to the longboats, and he and Hvitserk turned and headed back the way they came, leaving the mac Neílls to their own devices in their ransacked castle. They stayed put, too afraid to move a finger (for Liusaidh and Labhraín's own safety, they could hardly claim to understand the thought process of these heathens), as the girls were dragged back outside.

The four of them exited the castle doors and, when Hvitserk shut and barred them, one of Ivar's personal guards presented him with a lit torch. "What are you doing?" yelled a panicked Labhraín, both at Hvitserk and Ivar — whoever would listen. "You said you wouldn't hurt them!"

"I said we wouldn't hurt them. If they can't escape the fire, well… that's not our fault. Hvitserk! Set it."

—

Liusaidh and Labhraín were dragged away by a handful of Vikings, becoming too fidgety for just one person to keep a grip on them. Thrown onto Ivar and Hvitserk's boat — the biggest one of the fleet — they could do nothing but watch their castle home go up in smoke as they sailed away from the shore and due east.

Neither of them had the will or the energy to protest as their ankles were bound and another rope was tied to connect their wrists to their feet. Ivar hobbled on his crutches to take a seat at the edge of the boat next to Liusaidh. His gloved and rough hand ame up to stroke the side of her face and brush through her hair. "You will forget about them one day. And you will learn to be happy with me," he promised, but the promise to her sounded more like a threat.

—

At the back of the boat, Hvitserk had seated himself next to Lahbraín. He brought her a spare blanket, placing it around her shoulders as she couldn't do it herself. He placed his palm on her cheek and brushed a tear away. "I am not a bad man like you think," he told her in a low whisper. "You will understand that eventually."

#vikings #foreigner's god #vikings fic #floki #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarson #ubbe ragnarson #ubbe lothbrok #hbo vikings #history vikings #ivar x reader #ivar x oc #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x oc

32 notes · View notes

travllingbunny · 5 years ago

Text

The 100 rewatch: 4x11 The Other Side

Now that I’m finally on my vacation and have the time to write these posts, I need to catch up. I actually rewatched up to 5x04, so now I need to go over 7 episodes so I could continue my rewatch of season 5.

Season 4 is one of my favorite seasons of The 100 mostly because of its last 3 episodes, which are all among my all-time favorites episodes of the show. While I still think that 2x16 is the show’s strongest finale, season 4 has the strongest finish with 3 amazing episodes in a row. It helps that this is both the stage of the season when we’re past the plotlines about Grounder politics and religion – never my favorite part of the show, though it was better done in season 4 than in season 3 – and where the focus was on what made season 4 so good: human drama and conflict between people and within people’s minds and souls, in the face of the end of the world and an enemy that cannot be defeated: climate change in its most extreme version.

One of the three storylines in 4x11 is the tense standoff about who will be in the bunker and survive, which turns the main characters against each other, including Clarke against Bellamy, but where none of the sides are villainous and everyone has good reasons for what they are doing. The show prides itself on grey morality, but it doesn’t always get it right – this is one of the times it does.

But while that storyline is the usual story of people fighting for survival (for themselves, their loved ones, whoever they consider “their people” – since the morally right goal of saving everyone is impossible), the other two plots are about people who have decided that they don’t want to survive, or who are struggling to decide whether they want to live or not.

It’s also the episode remembered for the first death of a main character who was a part of the original cast at the start of season 1 since episode 2x08. It’s one of the saddest deaths on The 100, but also one of those that felt most unavoidable.

“See you on the other side” is one of those repetitive catchphrases on The 100 that has changed its meaning so much over time Jasper said it several times – I remember that he said it in The Pilot, just about to cross the river (just before he got speared and nearly died), in 3x13 just before drinking the potion that Luna’s people gave him and others so they would lose consciousness before they take them to their oil rig – and he tells it to Monty as he is about to die.

This story of PTSD was done much better than whatever the show was doing with Finn. There is a parallel between Jasper and Octavia in how damaged they were after to the deaths of their first real love, but while Octavia mostly directed her grief outward into violence and, for a while, murder (an with a dash of death wish), Jasper was only verbally aggressive to others – and more so in season 3 than in season 4 – but his psychological state mostly manifested in his loss of a will for survival.

This storyline is very controversial, from the fans who started hating Jasper and calling him annoying – because the show was honest about the fact that depressed people are not always pleasant to be around – to people who were upset that the story didn’t get an uplifting outcome with Jasper overcoming his problems. But it wouldn’t be realistic if everyone in the show overcome their traumas. In reality, some people just break and stay broken. And I think it’s important to show that, too. It doesn’t make the story hopeless and nihilistic, because, at the same time – and in this very episode – we also get stories of people – Harper, Raven - who do manage to overcome trauma and decide to live.

I’m still glad that the show didn’t go with their original idea – Jasper shooting himself in the season 3 finale, right after he wrote his suicide letter. Not just because his death would have been overshadowed by other deaths that season, and because it would’ve made season 3 way too dark, but also because, in a way, his season 4 arc and suicide was less bleak, odd as that may sound. Season 3 Jasper was focused on his pain, anger and despair, while season 4 Jasper was reconciled with the idea he would die, and focused on going out having some fun before his death.

I also think it would be very unrealistic if, in the face of such bleak future – probable death of radiation or years of possibly awful life stuck in a bunker – at least some people wouldn’t make the decision to live out the rest of the days with an end-of-the-world party and go out in their own time, at their own choice and in a more pleasant way, such as overdosing of drug-like tea. And knowing how things turn out in the rest of season 4 – and that most of them would probably be condemned to death of radiation, anyway – and how horrible the life in the bunker ended up being (and that it took the lives of almost 400 out of the 1200 people), I can’t really say that those who stayed behind in Arkadia and committed suicide made a wrong choice, even if it’s not a choice I would make.

Jasper’s death scene, his last moments with Monty, is beautiful and heartbreaking. But I still didn’t cry during that scene in this rewatch, which surprised me. Then I was even more surprised when the tears only came later when Monty found out that Harper was alive and she told him she loved him, which she had tried to deny before, because she wanted Monty to leave her and not risk his life for her. I think it’s because, for tears, you need some kind of catharsis, a relief, and there is nothing like that in Jasper’s death scene. It’s like watching the Buffy episode The Body – similar to dealing with deaths of people close to you in real life, where you’re just frozen and you’re not getting any kind of closure or seeing any kind of meaning. Monty keeps fighting and trying to stop Jasper from killing himself even after it is already too late, or getting angry that he can’t do anything about it anymore. because it’s not in Monty’s nature to give up hope. And that’s why he doesn’t even say “I love you” when Jasper asks him to, until it is too late and Jasper cannot hear it anymore, because to say it would mean to accept his death.

Monty has lost so much at this point – having to kill his mother twice, now losing his best friend who was like a brother to him, that the moment when he thinks that Harper is dead (seeing a dead body of a blonde woman, who turns out to be Bree), and then realizes that Harper is alive was such a big relief both because of Harper and because Monty has managed to save someone he loves, and his arc is not all grief and darkness.

Oh, the times when Raven used to be really a main character and had a great arc about struggling with her pain, disability, and (temporary) loss of mental functions! (I love season 6 and it may end up as my favorite season, but it pretty much made Raven a side character and didn’t do her too many favors.) Though the Raven episode most often compared to 6x07 Nevermind is 3x11 Nevermore (because of the similar title and same writer), Raven’s story in 4x11 actually is more similar to Clarke’s story in 6x07: it’s an internal struggle where she is deciding whether she wants to live, and where she talks to dead characters, who are actually embodiments of parts of her own mind, pulling her in different directions and fighting for her soul. Here they are “Becca”, tempting Raven to die, because a part of her doesn’t believe she can still be the brilliant mind who solves all the problems – and “Sinclair”, who helps Raven find hope and fight to live, and come up with a solution how to heal her brain. She does it by basically “rebooting” herself through temporary “death” – which is similar to how Gabriel brought back Clarke in 6x10. Considering the fact that Sinclair is just a product of Raven’s mind, it’s a bit funny when he tells Raven that she shouldn’t compare herself to Da Vinci and Mozart etc. because she’s better than all of them – but I guess Raven is imagining Sinclair as giving her huge amounts of praise in order to give her faith in herself. He was always the mentor/friend who gave her a chance to work as a mechanic on the Ark and believed in her even when she didn’t believe in herself.

The bunker drama

I wasn’t happy with the way 4x10 put Clarke is a pseudo-antagonist role, by focusing on the Conclave (an incredibly stupid way to resolve the question of survival of the human race) with Octavia as the hero, and making the viewers forget what the situation was when Clarke made her decision. Add to that that she is pitted against Bellamy, and that she is siding with Jaha, and you have all the ingredients for the fandom to see Clarke as a villain. But in fact, her decision made most sense in the circumstances – not only was Octavia realistically unlikely to win, but the most likely outcome was that Luna would win and doom the entire human race to die. But this episode corrects that and explains her reasons – and that they are different from Jaha’s. Once that the news comes that Octavia has won and decided to share the bunker – which was Clarke’s suggestion that all the Grounder leaders ignored in 4x09 – the situation changes completely, and it’s obvious that Clarke, who already didn’t feel good about what she was doing, started having doubts, while Jaha was very sure that what they were doing was right, and insisted that it’s all about saving their people.

Clarke, on the other hand, thinks that Skaikru need to be in the bunker because they are the only ones who can operate machines that ensure such things as air and water in the bunker, so they’re essential for the survival of the human race. Which is true. But sharing the bunker would also solve that. However, at that point, no one is sure if Grounders already know about them stealing the bunker and if they will start killing all of the Skaikru. Bellamy has faith that Octavia can stop it, but not everyone does.

Of course, even if Clarke had good reasons to steal the bunker, the whole thing with kidnapping Bellamy and keeping him there against his will, chained, while he was desperate to save his sister, was another messed up thing to do, and Clarke clearly didn’t feel good about that, either. It’s the understandable why she did it, to save his life, but I’ve never been OK with the “kidnapping/imprisoning you for your own good” thing, whether it was Lexa kidnapping Clarke and keeping her prisoner for a week in Polis, Bellamy handcuffing Clarke to make her prisoner in Arkadia, or Clarke keeping Bellamy chained up.

That said, I’m not sure how certain Clarke was sure that keeping the bunker closed was the right thing to do, either, because when she was explaining her reasons to Niylah, she seemed to really be talking to herself and trying to convince herself, and Niylah was just a sounding board. That relationship always consisted of Niylah being Clarke’s friend who was there to comfort her when she needed some human touch but wasn’t able to turn to anyone she had stronger emotions for – and while they had sex a couple of times in the past, this time Clarke just needed someone to lie beside her and put an arm around her, but when she talked about the reasons, she had her back to Niylah and not even looking at her, but looking somewhere into the distance.

The relationship between Clarke and Jaha is a pretty interesting one, and I wish it had been explored more, but they did do some of it here. He was a close family friend she grew up with, almost an uncle figure, then he became the symbol of everything she hated, the person who executed her father and imprisoned her for a year. Earlier on in season 4, she was still calling him out on what he did to Jake, but then, having to do things like make the list, she started thinking that she was turning into Jaha. In this episode, even though Clarke was the one who came up with the idea to steal the bunker, Jaha was the one who was confident about what they were doing and acted like he was in charge (prompting Bellamy to make the good observation “I don’t remember the election that made you the chancellor again”) convincing the uncertain Clarke that their path was right. It reminded me a bit of the dynamic between Pike and Bellamy in S3.

This whole situation was pretty complicated: on one hand, Clarke was telling herself that she was saving the human race by saving “her people”, but if everything was resolved without bloodshed, sharing the bunker would mean letting more people potentially survive, because the bunker had the capacity of holding 1200 people, while there were just a little over 400 Sky people. So, one could argue that the “big picture” favored opening the bunker ASAP. For Jaha, it was all about “saving our people”. But what does “my people/our people” mean? Everyone defines that according to how they feel. Jaha sees it as the collective of people from the Ark that he feels responsible for – but 1) it’s not like the lives of people from the Ark are inherently more important than the lives of people known as Grounders, and 2) some of those “our people” were not even in the bunker. Kane, Octavia, Raven, Monty would be left to die, among others. On the personal level, who is more “your person” than your lover or child or sibling, or close friend? But Jaha has always had a rather tribalistic vision and cared more as his people as a collective, than the individual people in that group. Kane was the closest thing to a friend Jaha had at this point, but he was OK with leaving him to die. But it was obvious that Bellamy would never agree to leaving Octavia to die, and Abby would never agree to leave Kane. And if Bellamy or Abby were outside the bunker, I’m 100% sure Clarke wouldn’t agree to leave them to die, either. However, after his wife’s and son’s death, Jaha didn’t have anyone he loved so much that he couldn’t sacrifice them. And since he kind of sacrificed his son to the “big picture” – by putting him at risk of death (which kept haunting him), I think that Jaha doubled down on his belief in his messianic role to save the Arker,s and that he had kind of convinced himself everyone else should be able to sacrifice their loved ones to that.

Which is why he didn’t see it coming when Abby stuck a syringe in him and knock him out, to go and help Bellamy go and open the bunker door. I remember that I saw that coming the first time I watched it and even guessed Abby’s reply to Jaha saying that he’s sorry about Kane’s inevitable death: “He was a good man”. – “He still is”. Jaha was also wrong to bring up Jake, because I think that Abby’s guilt over betraying Jake (which led to Jaha executing him – which she did not anticipate) only made her more determined to do differently this time and save Kane and not betray him. Oh, the time when Abby doing things to save Kane was something you could root for and that didn’t cross the line into creepy, misguided and deeply morally wrong!

This is one of the very few times in the show where Abby and Bellamy had significant interactions – even working together. And they managed to fool Murphy.

I love the fact that Bellamy made himself look self-destructive, by injuring himself while chained, only because he had a plan how to get out and open the door.

This is one of the two or three times in seasons 3-4 when Bellamy tells Murphy that he has no idea what it’s like to love someone, and Murphy has to keep explaining that he’s wrong and referencing his love for Emori.

Being focused on the big picture and trying to save the human race, as Clarke was doing throughout season 4, made her have to repress her feelings and almost severed her human connections (e.g. leaving some of her best friends out of the list, stealing the bunker even though some of the were outside and she was leaving them to die). She’s never been more “Head” than in season 4, because she believed she really had to be. But Bellamy was always her one soft spot where her ability to repress emotions for the ‘greater good’ would hit a brick wall. Bellamy (and Octavia, probably because of him) had to be on the list, not because of any objective reasons (which doesn’t mean that Bellamy isn’t very valuable for his leadership qualities, but that wasn’t why she put him there), even when she was leaving out a genius like Monty. We’ll never know if she could have stayed strong if ALIE had tortured/threatened to kill Bellamy (because the show hinted he was her biggest ‘weakness’ but never allowed that to happen), but she did let hundreds of people die in bombing mostly to protect him, she gave up 50 spots for her people to survive, when Roan blackmailed her by threatening to kill Bellamy, which Roan knew would work because threatening to kill Bellamy got Clarke in season 3 to give up fighting and let him take her to what she thought would be her death at Nia’s hands, and now, she was convinced that she was ensuring the survival of human race by not opening the bunker, but she still couldn’t bring herself to shoot him. But even the fact she thought she could do it shows how out of touch with her emotions she was at that point: Girl, I could have told you there’s no way you would be able to.

I’ve always thought – after seeing how the next two episodes of season 4 went (and then the next two seasons confirmed that) – that the moment when Clarke couldn’t shoot Bellamy and ended up crying, was the moment when she finally faced up to how she feels about him, and that she’s been aware of her feelings ever since. (Even if you disagree on that, there is no way you could spend 6 years on her own, radioing him every day, without realizing exactly what you feel.)

In 4x10, Bellamy was worrying that he wasn’t able to tell his sister that he loves her. When Bellamy and Octavia reunite and hug, Bellamy tells her “I love you so much” – which is the first time we’ve ever seen him say “I love you” to someone. To date, Octavia is the only person he’s said it to on-screen.

Octavia exiles Echo – pulling the “I said your people will get to survive, not you” trick, and considering all her experiences with Echo up to that point. I don’t blame her at all. She correctly guesses that Echo won’t tell the other Grounders (other than Indra, who is playing along) that Skaikru stole the bunker, since she will still die anyway. Echo indeed turned out to be more concerned with survival than revenge.

Timeline: The episode starts two days before Praimfaya, and ends exactly a day before Praimfaya

Body Count: 11 Arkers who killed themselves, including Jasper, Bree, another Delinquent, and Riley.

At least 60 Delinquents have died (4 in season 4), while 40 are still alive. But not for long.

Rating: 10/10

45 notes · View notes

whiskynottea · 6 years ago

Photo

The Ripple Effect

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

AO3

T/W: Major character death.

Chapter 21. Faith

I opened my eyes to see the two paramedics next to me, and I vaguely realized that I was in an ambulance. The siren was loud, hurried.

I felt dizzy. The pain vibrated through my body, making me want to curl up and cry.

I looked around, searching for Jamie, but he was nowhere to be found. I closed my eyes and thought of his crooked smile, of his slanted eyes full of love.

The image of his body taking the crash’s impact flashed in front of my eyes, pushing every happy memory away.

I passed out again.

The hospital corridors around me were familiar, but their sterility seeped in my body; cold, hostile, unsafe. I shouldn’t be in a hospital. Not again.

The stretcher I lay on was moving fast, so fast that the stuff jogged around it to keep up with me.

I ran a hand over my crotch.

Blood. Fresh, crimson.

Not again. Please, please, not again.

I gripped the hand that grasped the stretcher close to mine. It belonged to a bony and tall nurse, her lips a thin line on her face.

“No,” I pleaded. “Not yet. It’s too soon.”

She gave me a compassionate look and nodded, her eyebrows knit together. “I ken, lass.”

She knew. And yet, I could tell by the look in her eyes that there was nothing she could do. There was nothing I could do.

I heard Jamie’s voice in my mind, telling me to have faith. I set my jaw and swallowed hard.

“My husband?” I asked. “He was with me,” I added, tugging at her sleeve when she didn’t turn to look at me.

“He hasna arrived yet,” she said, matter-of-fact. The policeman who called us asked for three ambulances. The other two are still on the way.”

Jamie in an ambulance, away from me. Separated, unable to give solace to each other.

He had to be safe, to come back to me as soon as he could. I needed to grasp his hand and listen to his deep voice keeping the fears at bay. I needed him more than ever, and yet, he wasn’t there.

I started panicking. I was alone, and I couldn’t feel Faith.

“My baby,” I whispered, placing my bloody hands on my belly. “My baby isn’t moving.”

The nurse’s lips had almost disappeared from her pale face, and she looked at me though exhausted eyes, clad in black circles. “We’re taking ye for an ultrasound right now.”

I took a deep breath, and the hospital’s scent invaded my nostrils like an old friend. It seemed to mock me for my failure, for lying on the stretcher instead of running next to it.

The exam room was quiet, dimly lit. The gel on my belly, cold. My side, empty. Jamie was supposed to stand there, by my side, as he had always done.

I fixed my eyes on the screen, waiting.

The black and white recording of the ultrasound had the image of my daughter. Still there, and a bit bigger than I remembered. Curled up, with a tiny fist next to her heart.

Her silent heart.

I clenched my own hands in fists, waiting, hearing my heart beating alone in my body. All alone, waiting for hers.

It couldn’t be. The ultrasound machine might be broken, the volume too low.

The time passed, but there was no movement, no sound. The examination room was enfolded in an eerie silence.

A heart in the making, with millions of beats waiting ahead, hushed abruptly. A muscle that didn’t contract, leaving stalled blood in her veins and arteries.

“Come on baby,” I pleaded, my tears blurring the picture on the monitor. I brushed them furiously away, afraid I would lose the tiny movement that would confirm that my girl was still alive.

A buzzing filled my ears, thousand of wasps around me, their stings painful on my body. And yet, I felt nothing inside. I didn’t want to feel, to think. I didn’t want to accept the realization that was forced upon me.

This wasn’t happening. I had promised to keep her safe. I had told her all would be okay.

The same tired, sympathetic nurse led me to a room, helped me settle on the bed, and administered an IV. Finally, she patted my shoulder with a sorrowful smile. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said.

I looked at her, lost. My loss. It couldn’t be.

“Dinna hesitate to ring for help.” Her voice was soft and tender, but I felt it coming from miles away. “My name is Crook. Just press the button and I’ll come promptly.”

I nodded, and instinctively ran a hand on my belly. Still there, still full. As if nothing had happened.

I felt exhausted. With my hand still on my belly, waiting to feel Faith, I succumbed to sleep.

I woke up in the darkness, my dream still fresh in my memory. Faith had woken me, kicking like a wee fiend. I turned to tell her Da, but he wasn’t there.

Neither was our bedroom. The soft light on the hospital’s white walls blew the dream away. Faith hadn’t kicked.

I waited in silence, barely breathing so I wouldn’t miss her move. But it never came.

My baby was still. My girl’s heart had gone quiet. The ultrasound monitor was working properly.

The only thing I heard was my own heart, breaking. A smashing sound, filling the world with tiny pieces that crashed on to the walls and fell on the floor, ensuring that the shards would never be mended again.

A cry left my lungs before I realized it. It was guttural, inhuman. It tore my throat, running through the hospital corridors, trying to find a way out – to the sky. To her.

But she was too far away to listen.

My womb was full, and yet, I was empty. My soul was lost, somewhere between a baby kick and a cry I would never listen to. I could still sense her, curled up, silent, featherlight. And yet, she wasn’t there.

I had lost Faith, and with her I lost a part of myself.

Sobs started wracking my body, sobs that I couldn’t control, waves of grief crushing upon me, molding my shape, changing me forever.

Mrs Crook came to my room even though I hadn’t called for her. She whispered soothing words that I didn’t hear and injected something in my IV. I wished it was poison.

With both hands cradling my belly, my dead baby, my dead dreams, I cried until I fell asleep. In my sleep, I dreamed of a redheaded girl, running in a field of barley, golden like her skin, looking at a sky as blue as her eyes.

When I woke up, I had almost forgotten what was real and what not. I was almost sure that I had dreamed of the accident, the blood, Faith’s unnervingly silent heart. At that moment, I had convinced myself that all was well, and I looked around, searching for Jamie. That second, that split second, I was happy.

Then I saw Geillis sitting in the chair next to my bed. And I remembered.

“My baby,” I whispered, looking desperately at her, and I felt a fresh wave of tears running down my cheeks. “My baby girl,” I repeated.

Pain; unending, unforgiving.

Geillis, the always sharp-witted Geillis, had nothing to say. She came to sit on the bed next to me, wrapped her arms around my body, and rocked us both, my Faith and me, equally dead inside.

“Jamie?” I asked in a hoarse voice after a while, and she pulled away to look into my eyes.

“He’s okay, he’ll be okay,” she said with a trembling smile.

“Where is he?”

“In the OR. Hildegarde came from our hospital and is operating on his hand,” she said, and seeing my distress, she repeated, “He’s okay. He’ll be okay.”

That didn’t sound reassuring at the least.

“What has happened?” I asked. “Nobody has told me.”

“You crashed on the traffic barrier, but fortunately Jamie had reduced your car’s speed, and the impact was minor. Both airbags opened – ”

“I know,” I interrupted her. “The airbag killed Faith,” I said, and my voice cracked. “It’s a placenta abruption, right?”

“Yes.” Geillis swallowed hard, trying to stop the tears before leaving her emerald eyes. “Jamie would end up with bruises and light injuries like you – ”

I snorted. Light injuries. I had never thought that tearing my heart out would be considered as a light injury.

Geillis looked at me and frowned. “You know what I mean,” she defended herself. “Anyway, Jamie would be okay, if not for the second crash. The car that pursued yours went straight to a head-on collision with the truck.”

“And?”

Why did it take her so long to explain such a simple thing?

“The truck was heavy, thank god, and didn’t move much from the collision’s impact. It’s rear side, however, dented the side of your car. Jamie’s side.” I held my breath, unsure if I wanted her to continue. “Jamie was lucky,” Geillis added hurriedly. “He only got injured on his right side – leg and hand.”

“How bad?” I asked in my doctor’s voice, afraid that if she witnessed my meltdown she would stop sharing the information she had acquired.

“His leg has a deep gash that will leave a mark, but other than that it’s fine. His hand, however, got trapped between the dented door and the steering wheel. We still don’t know if it will ever be fully functional again.”

“His vitals?”

“All fine. Like yours.”

Like mine. Which exactly of my vitals was working fine, I wondered.

“Geillis?” I asked after a while. It was strange that she hadn’t asked any questions. So strange, that it showed how bad things really were.

“Tell me,” she leaned towards me with a smile.

“What happened to the other man? The one who pursued us?”

“He was dead already when they brought him to the hospital. He died at the collision,” she said and frowned, looking at me. “Who was he Claire? What did he want?”

“Randall,” I simply said. “My worst nightmare,” I added, and closed my eyes, wishing the conversation to be over.

Randall was dead. I was finally free. But it was a hard-won freedom, and I didn’t know what to do with it.

A life for a life, I thought, and started crying again.

“Claire,” Geillis said when my sobs quietened. “We need to talk about you.”

“About me?”

“Ye have to give birth, Claire. You can either wait, or we can proceed with the induction today.”

“I want Jamie to be with me,” I said, biting my lip hard to block the tears inside. “I can’t do it without him.”

Geillis nodded, but I saw a shadow lurking in her eyes. “Okay, then. We’ll wait until tomorrow.”

We fell silent, until I spoke again, a few minutes later. “Geillis,” I whispered. “I don’t want to lose her.”

The dam broke again. I cried in her arms until I fell asleep, grateful for finding a way out of reality.

The next morning Jenny had taken Geillis’ place next to my bed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised, when I saw her. It was a long way from Lallybroch.

“Of all the places in the world, Claire, this is the one I should be.”

She had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed, the silver trails on her cheeks shining under the daylight. She held my hand, and then took me in a crushing embrace, as if she was trying to force life back inside me.

“Jamie?” I asked.

“He hasna woken up yet. It was a long surgery.”

I nodded. “How did it go? Did they tell you?”

“Aye, they did. The doctor said his hand will never look the same again, but he will be able to use it, eventually.”

“Good,” I breathed, then hesitated. “Jenny, does he know?”

Jenny shook her head. “I dinna think so. Geillis told me he was unconscious when they brought him in, then woke up crying and calling yer name. They gave him sedatives and he fell asleep. He hasna woken after his surgery, so I couldna talk to him.”

“I’ll tell him once he’s awake,” I announced, setting my jaw. “Was I on sedatives too?” I asked as an afterthought.

Jenny gave me a sorrowful smile, one that wordlessly replied to my question. “They doctor said ye have to go into labor,” she said at last.

“No,” I denied, feeling I’d said the same thing one million times. “I’ll do this when Jamie is better. I don’t want to be alone. He is supposed to be there.” My voice broke mid-sentence, and I stopped Jenny with a raised hand before she could come closer to hug me. Love elicited more feelings than I could handle.

In the afternoon, Mrs Crook came to my room again, rested and ready to start another shift. “Lass,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Nothing will change, ken? Tis better to proceed now.”

“Why isn’t my husband here?” I asked, as if it was her fault that Jamie was away.

“He’s on heavy painkillers. He isna in condition to witness a labour.”

“I’ll wait,” I said, determined. “I’ll wait until he’s better.”

Jenny talked before the nurse could voice her disagreement. “I’ll come wi’ ye, Claire. Better the wrong Fraser than no Fraser at all, aye?”

“But Jamie would want to be there,” I said, crying, as I slowly accepted that he wouldn’t be. “He would want to be there no matter what…”

I gave birth to my dead daughter, committing in memory every single minute. I carved every single detail of the process on my heart, while wishing the doctor to tear me apart, to break me into pieces so I couldn’t feel anymore.

She never cried, and never reached for my breast. I belatedly realized that I didn’t have milk to give her yet. But I would have, in a few months. Milk made for her. Useless.

Faith lay in my arms, born and still. A porcelain doll, with my white skin and Jamie’s red hair. With ten fingers and ten toes. With faint red eyebrows laid over closed eyes.

And I sang to her. And I called her by her name. And I wished she would be alive. And I lived, and yet I died.

Jenny had brought with her a light green bodysuit with pink elephants. The evening after the birth she gave it to me with tears in her eyes, explaining that she had bought it a few weeks ago, for Faith to leave the hospital with the clothes her auntie gifted her. We dressed Faith together, brushing tears away only to make room for more to come.

Sometime in the night, Jenny told me that Jamie had woken up from his morphine sleep. I took Faith with me in her beautiful outfit, holding her tight against my chest, and walked to his room.

I walked to him, needing him to hold us both. To listen to him whispering soft Gaelic words to our girl, even though she wouldn’t listen to his wobbly voice. To share the burden of loss with the only person who could really understand.

His eyes were closed when we entered his room. I walked quietly across the darkness to stand next to his bed, but he felt me before I could talk and opened his eyes.

“Sassenach,” he said with a dreamy smile, his eyes darting from me to Faith in my arms.

He looked at me as if I was holding the world in my hands. A second, his own split second, of happiness.

And then, the heartbreak.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, no, no. It’s too soon.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, Jamie.” I stood still, cupping Faith’s head, rocking her with my sobs. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. She’s not here.”

A growl left his throat, deep and painful, but he patted the bed next to him. I sat down, facing him.

“Never say that again, Claire. Never, d’ye hear me?” Tears rolled down his cheeks, but his voice was sober. I dropped my eyes somewhere between his clavicles, ashamed. “Listen to me,” he said, authoritatively, tilting my chin up so I could see him. “Tis not yer fault. Nobody loved Faith more than ye - more than we did. More than we still do.”

He hugged us both then, and in the silence of the night, we made the perfect picture – if someone was far enough to misinterpret the painful tears with happy ones.

Two heart were beating in that room instead of three. And these two, kept a mournful rhythm, one of loss and powerlessness.

Jamie traced Faith’s face with a finger that seemed gigantic, but the way he did it was so gentle, that I thought his bones would break.

“Mo ghraidh,” he whispered, and I knew that this time he wasn’t calling me. “Hello wee one, it’s yer Da.”

And with that, with the same words he used to greet her when she was alive inside me, Jamie broke the last fragment of my heart that had remained untouched.

We sat awake all night, telling her stories about our family. About what her life would be, if it hadn’t stopped abruptly. About her uncles and grandparents. About her cousin, who had gifted her his little yellow duck to play with, when we would bathe her. About the love that bound us all.

We stayed awake all night, in a tight embrace, wishing the sun never to come out. Wishing that a miracle would happen, and our little family would be whole again.

But the miracle had happened, and we held her in our arms. Ten fingers and ten toes. Two closed eyes, dreaming of a better world.

In the morning, we buried our Faith.

A/N: I know most of you (all of you) think that this is cruel. And that’s because it really is.

This is a decision I made from the first moment I plotted this story, before I got personally attached to the characters. Did I have second thoughts while writing about Claire’s pregnancy and Faith? Of course I did. But the reasoning for my initial decision didn’t change.

First, I wanted to write a modern AU of Jamie and Claire’s story as we see it in Outlander/Dragonfly in Amber, and the impact of Black Jack Randall on their lives is detrimental in these books. So, my decision to follow canon had predestined Faith’s future. In canon Jamie and Claire live this death, and carry it with them forever. It makes them who they are. And I wanted this, but I did diverge from canon on a point. I wanted them to mourn their loss together. To hold their baby together.

The second reason is my love for real stories. It’s not that I don’t love happy endings - I do. But the truth is that approximately 1 in 200 births ends in a stillbirth. It’s horrific, but it happens. And these parents without babies keep living, and they go on. I’m not saying that they forget, but they go on. So I wanted to write a story to honor them.

This was the last chapter of this story, but it’s not where this journey ends. Next week I will post an Epilogue, in which we will find Jamie and Claire in the future, and see how their story continued.

Thank you all for reading. Truly.

Epilogue

#The Ripple Effect #modern au #jamie x claire #tw: major character death #Outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction

245 notes · View notes

johnny2071 · 6 years ago

Text

Top 10 Worst of Sue Murphy *STRONG CRITICISM*

F is for Family is a very divisive show that has garnered a lot of attention on the internet, whether its the bitter and crass nature of the show itself, the dysfunctionality of the Murphy family, or the jarring one-liners and temper of the main character, that only a stand-up comedian like Bill Burr can provide. However, while this show gets nothing but an obscene amount of praise, especially over its outspoken protagonist, not much is said regarding the main female of the house who invokes a lot of emotional drama: Sue Murphy, who quite honestly is far from pleasant and approachable. We all have stress in our lives. However, Sue's methods of handling them, along with sheer amount of obsession, neglect, hostility, and miscommunication with just the people in her house, is enough to keep anyone awake for weeks, especially with a show written as real as this. This is a top 10 list of Sue's worst moments in each episode throughout the first three seasons up to this point (with some exceptions). Before anyone in this rabid "show-can-do-no-wrong" subreddit/fanbase bites my head off or "puts me through da fuckin' wall", it's important to read this quote from a popular YouTuber: "Rather than insulting these people, maybe try to understand the perspective and say why you disagree. This kind of reaction to negativity and critique needs to stop. There is nothing wrong with negativity. Negativity, especially in criticism is a necessity. You cannot have positivity without negativity. Bother are in balance, and one without the other is unnatural. You cannot live your life without negativity or negative opinions towards something. It's completely natural. Not only that, but living in a world where everything is treated as if they have no flaws is misguided. That's not how things are. So when a product comes along, it should be scrutinized with negativity and positivity."

Unlike Watchmojo or any regular top ten video, I will not include full paragraph analysis for each bad Sue moment. This will be kept as brief as possible. Also, these aren't rankings for the episodes themselves (since other characters do horrible and questionable things). With that said, let's move on to this top 10 list.

10. This is Not Good - Out of these current 26 episodes, there have been some minor moments. But it's this episode that highlights Sue's neglect and sets the tone that erupts into a fierce conflict. 9. Punch Drunk - While Sue has major hostility towards Chet and Frank for not siding with her judgement, what really takes the cake is when she coldly blows off Maureen, who was only voicing a complaint about her father. 8. Paul Lynde to Block - Sue's mood in general over the summer heat, and Frank and Kevin's arguing. But the real kicker is her brief exchange with Bill over bug spray, shortly before she meets the new neighbors. 7. Landing the Plane - Sue's bitterness at the beginning of the episode, as well her treatment towards a random bystander while drunk from her sorrows of having her idea stolen. 6. F is for Fixing It - Sue's mood throughout the whole episode, as she puts pressure on Frank to resolve their marriage. 5. Bill Murphy's Day Off - Frank and Sue's first explosive argument, where they both say negative about Bill behind his back. 4. The Stinger - Sue's outburst in this episode is what provoked me to create this list. She kicks Bill out the house and sends Maureen to her room, just so she can have the whole living room to herself, only to threaten everyone she invited over (and even Maureen) to by her product. Selfish bitch! I wish I could just barge in there, call her out on her shit, and snatch and toss away that carton of ice cream she has the nerve to triumphantly eat. And I'll gladly take on any SJWs who object. 3. Pray Away - Sue was frosty throughout the entire episode (no peaceful moments there), but flips out when Frank sincerely expresses his source of anger. 2. Fight Night - I'm not sure what things were like at the beginning, the things go SOUTH between Frank and Sue the minute they're called into the Maureen's classroom. 1. A Girl Named Sue - Do I even need to explain why this is number one. It's that one scene alone, and I do not want to recount it. Dishonorable Mentions: -The Bleedin in Sweden - When the new television is broken, Sue intentionally guilts the children over Frank's outburst in the store. After Kevin takes the fall, she zeroes in on Bill and scolds him for it when he comes clean. Even though Frank is kind to him at the end, Sue says NOTHING. -Saturday, Bloody Saturday - At the beginning, Sue scolds Kevin for his bad grades, and stops a fight between Bill and Maureen, by threatening to go insane. -The Trough - While Kevin rightfully gets called out for not doing his homework and keeping his promise, it doesn't paint Sue in a positive light. However, Sue shows her scary side once again (exclaiming that she wished she was never married), when she runs into Ginny, who eats all her time in the rest of the day she was going to spend with Maureen (who was dragged along with her). Whether Sue actually had Maureen in mind or just brought her along as a prop to quell her own insecurities is debatable. This also the matter that Sue almost returns home in rage to chew out Frank (after Maureen mention that he has exclaimed that same thing before). -F is for Halloween - Sue's silently storms off when she finds out about the message Sue left. This is not in the top 10, because she's gone throughout the rest of the episode until the end. -O Holy Moly Night - Sue's hostility in this episode is subdued, but still prominent at the beginning. Directly after the fire incident, all Sue can do is just sit at the table and glare at Bill, while Frank chews him out. When Bill mention's that he knows about their bedroom argument, he catches their attention for a brief second, but when Maureen mentions that Major is missing, and they go right back to giving Bill hostility. The drama that scarred Bill and led to the fire in the first place, is never elaborated on past that, and Bill is made an altar boy off-screen by Frank and/or Sue. Other than that Sue simply prepares for the holiday season, up until the Fitzsimmons' call out the entire family and Sue sends them running with a bat and drops her first f-strike. -Heavy Sledding - While Sue is relatively tame throughout the whole episode, the biggest upset is when she screams at a 9-year old who called her family loser, and then throws her cigarette in his face. The fact that she even smokes at this point, strongly implies that this is a very unpleasant woman. -S4E10? - Considering what this show is how it does not deviate from the worst possible scenarios, Sue going in labor will go as well as you would expect it to, and it wouldn't be like any labor scenario that's ever happened in pop culture (and real-life).

----------BONUS DISCUSSION----------

Less Volatile Behavior (a.k.a. the remaining episodes): -The Liar's Club - Didn't watch -Night Shift - Sue's only disdain was over lettuce, before getting wrapped up with her first invention brainstorm -Breaking Bill - Sue had a bad day at work, only to see Frank arguing with Kevin in public. Other than that, she didn't do anything else. -Are You Ready For Summer? - Didn't watch. Sounded like an already involved episode as it is. Apparently, she "wasn't any better than Frank" at the parade. -Frank the Father - Sue gone for most of the day, rooting for Maureen at the Hobo Jojo Show, and expresses disappointment and disgust when she sees Frank and Kevin arguing as she returns home. She then mutters under her breath whether or not its her fault or the family. Needless to say, it's her. -It's In His Blood - Sue is distraught over losing the recently build baby room due to not having a permit. She also pays zero attention to Kevin when he actually tries to get advice from them over a serious matter. The rest of her activity consist of trying to get Nguyen-Nguyen to seek help and Frank's anger over Chet. -Mr. Murphy's Wild Ride - Now this one is quite mixed. Sue actually wishes Kevin a happy birthday, but this is likely due to her being gung-ho that receive "positive feedback" over the Forkoontula. One could argue that she defended Bill, when Marie accuses him of being a liar, when he takes the blame for Phillip pushing Anthony (only for Phillip to admit it anyway). However, she probably used this as a segway to call Marie out on her lie, when she finds out she threw her invention away in the garbage can. To Sue's credit, she does realize how harmful her invention is and gives one of the rarest and sincerest apologies that she/Laura Dern can deliver (a total 180 from the previous episode and earlier, excluding the part where Maureen isn't taken into account, but leagues better than the one she co-gives to Bill when he calls both his parents out). However, this scene shows us just how bad Sue's listening skills are, as she misinterprets two things. First, she thinks that her friends were only fearful towards her invention and not herself and the way she acted. Second, she thinks they actually like her invention, despite the "few flaws". -Summer Vacation - After Frank drives away both Sue's parents and their children, they almost have another argument. Fortunately indigestion kicks in, and they have a good laugh together. -Battle of the Sexes - Sue seems to express no real hostility, but not much sincerity. -Bill Murphy's Night Off - Sue spend the bulk of the episode searching for Bill while worried sick, finally learns how neglectful both her and Frank are as parents, and decides that being parents is their most important priority. We can only hope and pray that they (especially Sue) actually follow through with that promise (the right way), and not just scream at and punish them more, while "being their parents". ----------CONCLUSION----------

Sue has bad bipolar disorder, and needs serious psychological help as well as anger management. The sad thing about all of this is that she's the only female in this series who any real depth and sense of morality and sensitivity, and its the beautiful ones (combined with over-the-top movie star voice acting) that get under our skin and tug the emotional appeal cord. But point being, no one can make a big dramatic stink like Sue, and may god help the innocent party around her (as oppose to those who screw her over in the first place). At this point, in order to redeem her character just somewhat, the whole family need to bring enough up to speed and discuss/clarify all the miscommunications that happen during their neglect this third season alone. And yes, a plot-focused clip show (A CLIP SHOW)/recap episode would be gladly welcomed here. Sure some people would whine about them re-showing clips from previous episodes, but people in this particular fanbase binge each season in repeat anyway. Oh, and being pregnant doesn't give you the right to snap at others, especially over seemingly minor infractions. Sometimes I wonder if Sue is in Philip's kill book (the one character who has hidden unstable malice, regardless of age and gender).

#F is for family #fiff #top 10 list #netflix #sue murphy #bill murphy #rant #scary woman #fiff writers #laura dern #a girl named sue #paul lynde to block #strong criticism

8 notes · View notes

thatyanderecritic · 6 years ago

Text

Deathless

Title: Deathless

Media: Book, Author: Catherynne Valente

Yandere(s): Koschei the Deathless (Or as Julie and I like to call him: “Kosher”)

Yandere Scale: 1/5 (Julie: 0/5)

Criticism written by: Kai

Editor: Julie

Before we begin, Julie and I have two different views on this book. To keep things clean, I did the review while Julie did an analysis; which you can read here.

The Review:

Sigh… Kai here, back with another review. This time I’ll be reviewing the confusing and difficult to follow novel: Deathless. Bear with me as we go down this rabbit hole of a review.

Now booting Kai 2.0 … Version: Salty

Deathless is a story about… uh… Deathless is a tale about a girl named Marya (Mary? Maria? Idk how to pronounce any of these Russian names if it’s not Ivan or Dimitri.) who get whisked away by the tsar of life: Kosher- I mean Koschei and become his wife. In the beginning of the book, Marya was seduced by Koshei and his magical lifestyle. After succeeding in the three tasked made by Baba Yaga (yeah, IDFK. Apparently the Baba Yaga and Koschei are siblings), Baba Yaga gives her blessing to Marya and Koschei’s wedding. But Marya was warned that she would leave Koschei in the future and fall in love with a man named Ivan. Marya swears that’ll never happen; she’ll kill Ivan and eat his heart. Immediately starting in part 2, Marya falls in love with Ivan in the middle of fighting a war with Koschei’s brother (IDFK man, this shit is hard to follow). Marya runs away with Ivan and together they suffer in hunger and poverty. Koschei goes running to Marya and begs for her to take him back. Marya locks Koschei up in her basement (fuck man, I’m so lost) and had Ivan promise to never look in the basement. For a time, things seem to be well with Marya fucking Koschei in the day and banging Ivan at night. But Ivan, being a nosy motherfucker, looks in the basement and discovers Koschei. After Koschei tricks Ivan to give him some water to drink, Koschei regain his magic and kidnaps Marya. Now in part 3 (the final part), Marya and Koschei are living a happy married life in a small Russian town with happy villagers. Things are going swimmingly till Marya gives birth to a little girl… that little girl being the embodiment of Koschei’s death. Koschei died and Marya is freed. Turns out that Koschei had the two of them trapped in a peaceful dream within an egg. But the thing is, Koschei’s death is hidden within an egg… which is why he died (Don’t look at me, I’m fucking tripping as it is as I’m recalling the story). Now back in the real world, Marya looks for Ivan; who was dying from old age. After watching Ivan die, Marya moves on and discovers a town like the town in the dream. There, all her fairytale friends are living there as humans.Only the Baba Yaga recalls Marya and explains how Koschei’s brother won the war and turn all the mystical into the normal. Koschei is still alive in the village and Marya decided to visit him to see if he remembers her… I guess. The ending is ambiguous.

Anyways… what the fuck did I just read? Well… Julie and I technically didn’t read the full novel. Our knowledge comes from a combination of: an 11 hour audiobook of Deathless (which we didn’t finish because we were confused as fuck), the wikipedia summary, two reviews on Deathless, and the actual hard copy of the actual book (which we didn’t finish because we were confused as fuck). Let me just complain here and say this book is damn near unreadable and almost unintelligible. First, people talk as if they’re the goddamn Riddler from Batman. Characters were unable to straight up say what they mean, phrases have double meaning, and it was like reading the writings of Dr. Seuss’s less talented brother. Descriptions were just a fucking pain in the ass to comprehend. Everything about this book was a fucking mental gymnastics. Julie and I had to stop every five minutes to decode what the hell is going on.

You see that? All that flowery words bullshit? Marya is just throwing up. JUST SAY SHE’S THROWING UP AND MOVE ON. CHRIST. It took Julie and I three minutes to figure out what this description was suppose to be about. And this was one of the easier descriptions. It doesn’t even help that the story itself is just plain nonsensical. It felt like I was reading the words of the author after she puked out alphabet soup. Already, Deathless was basis on a Russian folktale that was already wild. With the combination of awful dialogue and confusing description, it was just a maze of a book to traverse.

I get some people will argue with me that this is a good book. For one, I probably just don’t understand it because it’s not my culture. Sure, you might be right. But so is the author… Catherynne is an American. Not Russian. Besides, the original folktale that Deathless is based on was easier to follow than this crap. Next argument some might have is that “Deathless is too sophisticated for your simple mind to handle.” No. It’s not. It’s ridiculously complicated for no reason. Complicated does not mean well written. There is nothing wrong with writing something simpler… you’re trying to create a novel that all adults regardless of age can understand. Truth be told, the writing in Deathless reminds me of the stuff you’ll find in creative writing class. This sort of story would get notes everywhere saying “Less description. More action” or “What do you mean? Clarify.” You're not the next Da Vinci code but a storyteller. Can’t tell a story if it ain’t readable. To compare this book, I would compare it to those research papers you would read in college. Lots of information but written by someone who’s trying to sound smart.

Moving on from my bitching, let’s talk about the one thing people care about the most: the yandere and characters. Based on what Julie and I were able to figure out, Koschie is the supposive yandere here. First let’s talk about him. Besides talking like the chester cat from Alice in Wonderland, Koschie was a surprisingly passionate guy who really cares about Marya. The best scenes with Koschie are the scenes when he isn’t talking and just physically showing his physical affections for Marya (lol). You know the phrase: “You look better with your mouth closed”? That fits perfectly for Koschie. Koschie’s physical interactions with Marya is the only straightforward thing with this entire novel.It was the rain in a desert. Anyways… even though Koschie was a passionate guy, it doesn’t make him a yandere. He breaks many of our rules… but the biggest one he broke was that Koschie still fucks other women besides Marya and keeps a collection of his past wives in a factory. I know the anon explains that these wives were actually Marya in another cycle? But honestly, it doesn’t change anything for us. Btw, anon, you’re seriously a champion for figuring that out. Julie and I did not know at all that this was supposed to be a cycle at all. Shit… I feel like we’re a part of game theory for trying to figure out what this author even means. Spoiler alert: If you have to do a conspiracy theory on your novel, your book ain’t that great.

Sorry… back to Koschie. Anyways, Koschie says some pretty words here and there. He sounds pretty yandere on paper… I guess. But Koschie bangs other chicks and lets Marya bang other dudes too on the side. Sure, I guess this is a progressive poly relationship. Good for them. But poly relationship plus yandere? It just doesn’t mix. This ain’t it chief. Koschie skims on the edge of being a yandere and being not a yandere. Sure he kidnaps Marya, kill some dudes that have the name Ivan, and say some possessive shit to her, but the actions just doesn’t line up. I don’t know… with the cycle theory in play here, I just see Koschie as a broken man who’s trying to reclaim control over his life. Not exactly a yandere per say. Like imagine: getting cuckold by some normal human, over and over again. Shit, I would go crazy too. I feel really bad for Koschie for falling in love with/having a wife like Marya. Apparently, Koschie and Marya are the same type of people but idk man… Marya is kinda of a crazy bitch too.

I’ll just briefly talk about Marya now. As we all know, a female lead defines a yandere. And Marya? Yikes man. I don’t know where to start with her. First off, Marya somehow managed to be both smart and stupid at the same time. We see that she’s clever enough to solve Baba Yaga’s tasks but she so goddamn stupid. Because of her curiosity, she’s extremely meddlesome and got Koschie almost killed even though he told her not to fuck with the egg… yet she fucks with the egg anyways. Then we jump to part two where Marya is more jaded and blames Koschie for all her misfortune (Idk). It’s not like he did anything bad to her. Honestly, reading their interactions, Koschie has been nothing but a gentleman to her. Besides the fact he bangs other women and like to do some weird power play on Marya, he’s pretty chill. If anything, she brought her own misfortune herself. She chased after Koschie because she’s fascinated by magic and wanted to be part of that world. Now that she’s part of that world, she doesn’t want to bare the burden of it anymore and return back with the humans; with Ivan. Btw, Marya wanted to sort of “keep” both Ivan and Koschie at the same time (because she’s thirsty). I mean… I get the sentiment, but Koschie literally stated that he wasn’t comfortable with that but Marya had her bitchy mode where she scratched Koschie and told him not to talk to her in that way (Weird flex but okay?). Ivan wasn’t cool with the arrangement either, hence why Marya left with Ivan. But oh the irony. Marya left with Koschie to avoid suffering, hunger, and fascination for magic but now with Ivan, Marya returned back to a life of suffering, hunger, and the normal. Again, more irony, Marya and Ivan have a fight because of their lifestyle. This is the part where Koschie comes begging at her door. And Marya, only being able to think with her vagina now, bangs Koschie and locks him in her basement. Just like how Koschie did a weird power play over Marya, Marya now does a power play over Koschie. One of the more fucked up lines Marya said to Koschie was along the lines of, “Lol. Look at you. Trapped in my basement… waiting for my attention while you abandon the war outside.” Like mega yikes my dude. I know Julie and I asked for a twisted female protagonist, but we asked for a relatable twisted female protagonist. Not… this. I guess Marya is strong? But… weird. Honestly… I lost any relatability with Marya the minute she started bouncing between Ivan and Koschie. And with how… sadistic she became towards the end, I don’t blame Koschie’s action. That’s a broken man with possible stockholm syndrome at this point.

Anyways… to summarize… I don’t know what I just read. Story is confusing. Characters are weird. I just have a bunch of puzzle pieces in my hand and a couple of yandere like lines. I suppose I can appreciate Koschie as an aesthetic. He says some pretty neat things, physically sounds sexy, and does some yandere like actions. So… I give him one yandere pity point for the attempt.... He might have shine better if the story was actually good.

Overall score: 1/10

#deathless #catherynne m. valente #book #novel #male yandere #yandere #review #opinion

5 notes · View notes