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the-bio-ska · 1 year ago

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Molting

(POV Lenox)

I swear if Brittany has me carry all of those suitcases back down, I will ask for a transfer. I do not care how busy Freddy is.

The apartment Brittany has in New York is impressive. For a room she rents out to others, she definitely shows her wealth, if nothing else. A lot of paintings that consist of nothing but color; surrealist paintings that I get what it is depicting, but I still have to wonder, why? Some odd clock that is telling the time, but looks like a carjack bolted to a wall.

I had to stand up to actually get a proper look at the time while I was laying down. Ms. DeBoin explained to me the meaning of the piece.

That’s by design! It is supposed to look like that! It symbolizes time being a difficult thing to keep track of, yet for all the time zones we find a way to keep track of it.

I’m starting to think she just bought a confusing looking clock and has to make up a justification for why she bought it.

Her TV looks like it is the most recent and high resolution version of the flat-screen. Aside from the bottom bar with the TV logo, the TV has no frame. I have not watched anything yet, but I’m curious if it will have an odd aspect ratio.

Looking at the media shelf she has on the sides of the TV, it is surprisingly small for someone who tries to claim she is as media influenced as she is. I cannot see the full spines as the frame covers a third of it, but I see from some of the spines.

Eyes Without A Face which made sense given the poster she has, Phantom of the Pa, Kino’s Journey, Visions of Escafl, Revolutionary Girl Ut, Bound and finally Hedwig and the Angry. This only took up about half of the shelf space for her film collection.

Her music collection is the polar opposite. Her shelves are full nearly to the brim aside from the bottom two shelves. I have not even heard of a lot of the bands on here and it would take hours to go through them all. I know she is going to make me listen to something later.

“Lenny! I need your help!”

I bolt up from the couch. The limited ways she could be hurt is low, but still, I have to make sure she is okay. Plus, it sounds like she is whining over something.

Upon opening the door, I see Brittany in a towel, but more importantly something is around her eye. Her eye looks almost swollen, a layer of clear skin clasping on her eyeball. It seems impossible for her to see out of. It looks almost merged to her eye. I have never seen anything like this. If this blinds her I will be in deep trouble. “We need to get to a hospital!” I grab her arm but she breaks my grip.

“No! We don’t have to go! This is just a bad molt. I just need you to do me a favor.” Reaching over to her bathroom sink, cosmetics spilled into, she hands me a pair of flat headed tweezers. “I just need you to pull off the skin using these tweezers.”

Skin?! That’s what this is? Her eyes molt? Is this due to that surgery that her father did to her? “Hold on! Why can’t you do it?!”

“Every time I get the tweezers near my eyeball I get shaky and nervous. Now, please pull the center of my eye with the tweezers!”

Oh she gets nervous? What about me? Brittany is trusting me with her eye. If I screw up I could blind her. I cannot feel her pain, nor do I have any empath magic that could help.

Tenderly, I move the tweezers towards the slit in the molting skin. I figured it would be best to start from the corner so it would come cleanly off. Hopefully. My hand is stable due to my bio organic enhancements, but my heart is beating out of my chest. Going for the eyes is something I myself get nervous over. The mere idea of something piercing and cutting an eye shakes me to my core. I have never done this before. The most I have ever done was when I tried to remove my own contacts when I was 11.

Wait. Like contacts! I place the tweezers back on the counter. Brittany fidgets nervously, hearing what I did. “Len. What are you doing?”

“Just trust me on this.” I turn on the sink and wash my hands. From the mirror I can see Brittany opening her available eye to see what I am doing. She’s shaking, likely nervous as she does not know what to do. After barely drying my hands, I grab the good side of her face from her chin, so I can guide her head. The one good eye is dilating, meaning I need to keep this quick. With my other hand, I lightly scrape my middle finger against her eyeball.

I feel the wet clump of skin attach to my finger, slimy though it may be. I tenderly continued until the skin clasped around my finger. I look at her eyes and it looks like there is no damage. A bit red, watery and swollen, but it seems like she can see. My relief gave way to disgust once I realized I still had the skin. It feels slimy, but there was clearly texture. It felt like I was holding wet snake skin boots. Instinctively I flick it off into the toilet. Brittany gives me a horrified look.

“Were you raised in a barn!? Dammit, I cannot sell it now?”

Sell? She sells her skin sheds? I know that was a practice that dragons could do to make some quick money. But would anyone take some skin molts from a human? Wait, Brittany looks human again. I know her father performed extensive surgery on her to look human, so why did she still molt?

“I thought your father got all of your skin replaced. I just thought the scales under your eyes were just makeup.” Figured any time is as good as any to escort her back to the living room, but she struts past me doing that damned walk that makes her look like a model.

The pop star just shakes her head at me and laughs. “My father is a skin and muscle surgeon. He is not comfortable doing any work on eyes, teeth or ears.” She lifts her hair to reveal something I had never noticed with her. Instead of human, or even animal ears like you would find on a cambion, there were little holes on the side of her head. From what I can see, they were also molting, with whitish skin. “It is also why I keep my hair in this style at all times, so no one can see my ears. It’s…not something I like showing. The fact you assumed the scales under my eyes were make-up makes me feel better.”

For the first time since I took this job, Brittany is showing some vulnerability with me. Not a lot, but this is something. For all of her confidence over her new body she still has points of insecurity for her, which at least was something I should keep in mind. I hide one of my ears in my hands, gentle rubbing them.

“In fact, let me show you something,” Brittany went back to the bathroom. I hear something unzip, then I hear her footsteps again. I see a bag of skin? The contents of the bag looked like plastic inside another plastic bag. Except once I get one more good look at it, it’s scaly skin!

“Why do you have that?!”

“To sell them to a select group of people. I thought we were on the same page with that.” Brittany is using that sing-song tone from when we were driving up. “I sell them to people within my network. Connections with my production team, my dad. People suspect I shed to varying degrees since I went public with both my transition and my reversion into a human. I myself just do not like looking at them.”

“I know you aim to sell it. Just nasty is all,” something about what she said stood out. Having a network of someone with her status. "Is one of those people in New York?”

Brittany nods. “Agnes Utgar-Hagen is my main doctor. I give her clumps of my skin for study and depending on how much skin clumps I give her, I can get 40 dollars for every 6 inches.”

40 dollars? That still mattered to a millionaire? I just shrug. Whatever she wants to do with her skin is up to her. “You know what. I don’t even want to hear more than that. This topic is getting too gross for me.” If she kept going, I can only imagine what she will mention. What if she sells other excrement to some weirdo who needs it for 'magical studies'?

“True true~! By the way,” Brittany approaches me meekly, reaching her hand out to try and grab my hand, only to stop herself. “May I see your hands please?” My hands? I’m grateful for the topic change, but why my hands? A better description of them is closer to claws, so says Freddy.

“Your hands just feel nice. I assumed under your energy claws they would be gnarled and gross, but you take good care of your hands. I just want to look at them again.”

Oh my god! Why is she doing this? She’s probably lying about finding my hands feeling soft. This is just her trying to mess with me again. My guess, she wants to get a look at as many things with my body she can mock. If she thinks that I don’t know her reputation as a shit stirrer, she will be in for a rude awakening.

“N-no Ms. DeBoin! I believe that is not necessary. I believe I have helped you so I will leave you to get…dressed.” Oh. Right. Brittany is in a towel. Needing to get out of there, I shut her door as fast as I could without slamming it. I really hope she does not report this to Freddy.

Brittany is laughing as she goes back to the bathroom. I just walk back to the couch and slump down. I’m already exhausted with having to deal with her antics. It’s not even a week yet. This is going to be a long job.

#character interaction #lenox korosu-xing #brittany deboin

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legobiwan · 4 years ago

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Maul, Obi-wan, and Raydonia

I was doing research for an entirely different post and I just...couldn’t leave this scene alone. There’s just too much going on here for me *not* to dip my oar.

So Maul goes to Raydonia and terrorizes the populace in order to send a “message” to Obi-wan at the end of TCW Season 4:

First of all, the panel where Maul says, “face me,” is interesting as Maul is directed away from Obi-wan as Obi-wan looks at Maul’s back, perhaps in facing Maul’s back, he is looking at the past, or, more specifically perhaps not being able to look at his past he cannot face Maul’s holoimage dead-on.

Secondly, this is such an obvious setup. (I know, I know. “Spring the trap.”) But Maul’s hilarious line in Twin Suns really shows us how much he not only knows Obi-wan, but the Jedi at this point (and in Rebels, he contrives this plan because it has worked twice already, on Raydonia and later, Mandalore):

Although this is not the point of this post, you have to laugh. Maul and Obi-wan, to some degree, have been dancing the same tango for over 20 years and the only time there had been a misstep, so to speak, was when Obi-wan left Ahsoka in charge of the second attempt at a Mandalore occupation instead of going himself. But otherwise, geez, no wonder Maul ended up in Obi-wan’s arms at the end of it all, just like a “dip” maneuver at the end of a dance as mentioned above. (They *know* each other’s moves, flit between lead and follow, and if you take this metaphor to its conclusion, then you realize Maul went to Tatooine, sought Obi-wan not because he wanted Luke, but because he wanted closure, knowing what closure would mean in that circumstance.)

But I’m getting off-topic. Maul goads Obi-wan by threatening to burn Raydonia to the ground and Obi-wan, of course, being of “noble heart,” immediately proclaims that he has to go. Alone, of course.

Mace, being the only voice of wisdom in this room, offers a sound strategy:

Obi-wan immediately rejects this perfectly viable option.

This justification is bullshit. Obi-wan is known for being a master tactician and yet he’s refusing Mace’s offer of backup? First of all, between the two of them alone, I’m certain they could have come up with a decent plan. Secondly, Obi-wan had to know that Maul wasn’t going to keep his word. Raydonia was going to burn, regardless of whether Obi-wan came alone or not.

And, in fact, here is Exhibit A of Raydonia burning:

Even if he isn’t fully aware of this, I posit that Obi-wan rejects Mace’s offer not because he wants to save Raydonia on the premise of a very false promise (if he were truly concerned about Raydonia, he would have taken the task force), but because, as the title of this episode suggests - he wants revenge.

And I doubt Obi-wan even admits this to himself, using his “noble-heart” to justify going to Raydonia alone to face a massive threat to both the Republic and Jedi in the middle of a war headed by the Sith.

By every logical, tactical measurement, Obi-wan should have taken backup. And he outright refuses it because of a personal vendetta. I have more to say about this in another post, but his actions here seem to be part of this cycle of “fall” and “absolution” that Obi-wan goes through in TCW, each “fall” going lower, each act of contrition more extreme. (And it plays into a theory I have that if the war had continued, if events had been just a little different - Obi-wan would have fallen and Dooku would have eventually gotten his most prized pupil.) It also says a lot that in the mirrored situation during the “Siege of Mandalore” arc, Ahsoka is only able to capture Maul because she brought the backup. Or, more precisely put, because Obi-wan authorized the (illegal) backup of he 501st.

Mace, however, isn’t swayed by Obi-wan’s pretty terrible argument. (And for pretty damn good reason.)

But here is where it gets truly bizarre.

What the hell, Yoda? I was trying to figure out the thought process that would lead to Yoda authorizing this. Clearly, it’s not stemming from any military advantage or even thought towards the people of Raydonia. They’re already burnt to the ground, both in Maul’s mind and the Council’s mind (despite Obi-wan’s thin rationalizations).

So then why? If I start with the really wild speculation, I suppose I could say that Yoda had someone form of...Force premonition that Obi-wan going alone to Raydonia would lead to an intervention by Ventress (who Yoda did sense was kicking and ambivalent about her role in the war) which would lead to Ahsoka’s trial and eventual acquittal which would lead to Maul being captured on Mandalore which would lead to the Duel on Malachor which would lead to Luke finding Grogu -

Yeah, you know what?

NO way that’s true. Not even Palpatine could see that far into the future so I can BS on that idea.

So why send Kenobi alone?

I think this harkens to what we see later during the “Wrong Jedi” arc.

If Ahsoka’s trial was her great test, then Maul’s reappearance was Obi-wan’s. Both Mace and Yoda have to know that Obi-wan was teetering on the Dark Side when he beat Maul all those years ago (in fact, the TPM novelization basically states Obi-wan harnesses some Dark Side to beat Maul in his rage.) Mace wants to bring backup, for very practical reasons but also probably keep tabs on an Obi-wan who was at severe risk of becoming unbalanced.

Yoda, on the other hand, sends Obi-wan alone to face his past, to face his darkness and overcome it (in the middle of a war with the Sith where the balance of power could have shifted significantly if Maul and Dooku and Sidious were able to coexist in the same room without the threat of first-degree murder).

And here’s the thing. Both Obi-wan and Ahsoka FAIL this test. Ahsoka walks away from the Jedi, Obi-wan gets the snot pounded out of him, taps into his rage (this is not a man in control of himself),

...and then lets a war criminal go free in exchange for her help, all of which set up the disaster that Mandalore becomes in later seasons. In fact, Obi-wan doesn’t pass this supposed test until over 20 years later, on Tatooine. And...is it worth everything that occurred between this episode and “Twin Suns”? Could Yoda have foreseen all of this? Highly unlikely. It’s nice poetry, but at what cost?

Which leads to another interesting observation - if Yoda feels this is Obi-wan’s test, then both he and Mace feel Obi-wan is more than capable of flirting with the Dark Side. (Yes, all Jedi are, of course, but this seems rather pointed for a man who is considered the pinnacle of Jedi-ness). Again, I have another long post gestating about this topic, but I doubt Mace and Yoda didn’t notice some signs of Obi-wan’s slow fall and attempts at absolution (it’s almost like the habits of an addict - fall, swear off the sauce, and than fall again, even lower) throughout TCW, but between the pressures of the war and trust in Obi-wan, they didn’t see it as a huge threat.

So after Obi-wan leaves for his Revenge Tour, Mace explains, rather diplomatically, that he thinks Yoda’s idea is hot garbage and that his (Maul’s) -

Yes, and Obi-wan at least does learn from this, as stated above...eventually.

Oh, Yoda. This is where I feel the Coucil lost their way. Again, Dooku’s famous quote about Yoda and the Council from the Clone Wars novelization:

"The Jedi Order's problem is Yoda. No being can wield that kind of power for centuries without becoming complacent at best or corrupt at worst. He has no idea that it's overtaken him; he no longer sees all the little cumulative evils that the Republic tolerates and fosters, from slavery to endless wars, and he never asks, 'Why are we not acting to stop this?' Live alongside corruption for too long, and you no longer notice the stench."

It could be argued that Yoda is placing this “test” of Obi-wan above the people of Raydonia, hell, the entire Republic, in priority. Raydonia is collateral damage, and if Obi-wan fails his test, so are many planets in the Republic (which is *exactly* what played out). I suppose, in the very end - again, 20 years later on Tatooine - this was resolved and Luke Skywalker was saved to eventually help redeem his father and destroy Palpatine but...that only really makes sense in hindsight and overlooks the bad decisions the Council and specifically Yoda, are making in real-time.

And Mace is not convinced here. Too many things could go wrong. Maul could escape. Obi-wan could be killed. Obi-wan could possibly turn, or at least “darken,” so to speak.

“Trust in the Force,” Mace might say, “but all others pay in credits.”

#hello there #long post #obi wan kenobi #darth maul #mace windu #yoda #raydonia #meta #well i dont know where *that* little analysis came from but #hey it's my weekend right now so enjoy the fruits of my spare time #and yes i will write that obi wan falling post at some point

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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Wait For Me // D.M.

Request: hi! can you do a request where draco performed the obliviate curse on his gf before the war, then met her again post war when he became a healer? the storyline is up to you! by the way, i really really like your fics 🥺 - anon

A/N: This request let me explore all the things I love: angst, healer!draco, and redemption. Thank you for trusting me with this request, I love it so much. This was not also on my WIP lost but I had an idea and I ran with it. With some hope, my next few fics will be from that list!!

Warnings: angst, mentions of nightmares and injuries, some anxiety, short words and tempers, swearing. A HAPPY ENDING or at least the start of one.

Word count: 5.2k

1996:

“You know why I have to do this, right?” Draco whispers: worried that if he were to speak any louder his voice would give away how close he is to breaking.

You nod once. A solemn nod that juxtaposes the tears falling freely down your face. How could you be agreeing to this when it made you feel like your heart was being ripped out?

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, arms reaching for you, the urge to touch too strong to resist. “If they used you against me or if you got hurt, I would never forgive myself.”

You hush him; not missing the irony of the situation. To be comforting him when you were going to have a large chunk of your memories taken from you, it was almost laughable.

The final few moments together are spent in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, getting as much of the other as possible before inevitably having to let go. You bury your face in his chest, almost refusing to let go of him as he unhooks your hands from around his waist.

The time has come; it’s come too soon.

You barely register Draco’s tears mixing with yours as he hauls you in for one last desperate kiss. His forehead remains pressed to yours as he whispers three words.

“Wait for me.”

Then everything goes blank. A flash of white and your life begins anew.

No memories of the last year of your life; no thoughts about the blonde haired teenager that had occupied your mind and stolen your heart.

There’s nothing.

Five years later:

The strong antiseptic smell has your nose crinkling in distaste. The overhead lights buzz as the bright light bounces off the overly clean floor; it makes your head hurt more. You place a tentative hand to the side of your head, frowning further when you feel the large bump growing there. Removing your hand, you sigh, remembering the tears of the pupil that had done this.

Not long after the war, a new decree was issued setting up centres of education for young witches and wizards that showed magical promise. They operated extremely similar to a muggle primary school; however these followed the curriculum created by the Ministry of Magic.

It was in one of these schools that you worked, choosing to train as a teacher after finishing your education.

A rogue ball is what had landed you in the emergency room of the only magical hospital in Britain. It had come out of nowhere; the children playing happily as the weather had improved over the course of the day.

Tapping your foot impatiently off the tiled floor, you had to admit to yourself it had been partly your fault for not seeing the ball before it knocked you on the side of the head and subsequently knocked you to the floor. The child, a young Hugo Ward, had felt terrible – sobs wracking his body as he apologised to you over and over again to the point where you had to reassure him you were fine.

An hour after the accident, it became evident that you were not fine. The dizziness and double vision being symptoms of something worse, your boss had sent you off to St. Mungo’s without room for argument, promising you she would cover your class for the rest of the day.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” calls the triage nurse. A blonde middle aged lady with bright eyes and a kind smile; she points in the direction of exam room two and you flash her a grateful smile.

The hospital bed is uncomfortable as you take a seat on top of the crinkly paper. The pounding in your head had not stopped since you arrived but the dizziness was calming somewhat, and for that, you were thankful. It happens as a flash; a memory washes over you of a large hospital wing, two rows of beds and an elderly lady with fierce determination written over her face.

A single blink and it disappears. The flashes hadn’t happened for a while; the aftermath of a memory charm inflicted upon in your Sixth Year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t known who had done it; they had found you wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone and confused before realising what had happened. You had recovered fairly quickly; the only aftermath being the flashes of what could be memories.

You sigh, sinking further into the gurney as you think of the pile of marking waiting for you at home. Even a sore head couldn’t put off the inevitable.

The Healer doesn’t look up as he enters, pulling the curtain closed behind him, “I’m Healer Malfoy, how can I help you today?”

You sit straighter as you take in the healer. Blonde hair down to the nape of his neck, tied back with what seems to be a leather cord. He hasn’t looked up at you yet, but from your spot, you could tell he was handsome. A strong jaw being home to a distracting mouth. You look away, admiring the rest of him before you could be caught staring at his lips.

Healer Malfoy’s face slackens for a second as his eyes rake over your face. He collects himself after a second, but still, you noticed. He clears his throat, looking down at the chart in his hand. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

You nod, “That’s me.”

“You hurt your head at work?”

Again, you nod, “Twice over. A pupil threw a ball at my head by accident, but I knocked my head on the playground as I fell.”

Healer Malfoy places your chart on a nearby table, pulling latex gloves out of his pocket as he does so. He smiles at you, but there’s something guarded about the expression on his face that has question after question springing up in your overworked and pained mind.

“Did you lose consciousness?” Healer Malfoy asks routinely, silently gesturing to your head, asking for permission to feel the injury.

“No,” You answer, turning your head for him to feel the bump on the side of your head.

You hear his sharp inhale as he examines the large bump there. As if seeing you hurt physically hurt him too, yet how was that possible? Thinking through your admittedly fragmented memories, you cannot find a whisper of what the blonde haired man could have looked like younger. Something niggled in the back of your mind, a feeling, a hunch. You didn’t know what, but it got stronger every time you met the grey eyes of the handsome Healer Malfoy.

“This is going to sound odd but go with me on it please?” You say, voice lilting into a question at the end. The idea of not giving this man in front of you a choice simply abhorrent to you.

Healer Malfoy smiles: it’s polite and doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back from you, needing the distance but also done with the examination of your injury. “Okay, I’ll go with it,” He states warily.

Your hands clench into fists; overcome with the urge to try and coax a smile out of him. “I don’t know how else to say it. Do we know each other? You feel familiar to me, as if I know you from somewhere.”

Whatever smile was on Healer Malfoy’s face falls the instant the words leave your mouth. His entire demeanour changes – shoulders stiff, hands gripping your chart so tight it could snap in half. Unclenching his jaw, Healer Malfoy grits out, “No. We haven’t met before.”

“Are you sure?” You press, deciding desperately that you needed to know the man standing in front of you.

“Very sure,” He murmurs, scribbling your discharge notes and handing them to you. “I would remember you if we had met before.”

The blank confession leaves you speechless. Blinking in what could only be described as shock, you take the outstretched papers.

“Your prescription is there too. You show no major signs of a concussion, just rest for tonight at least and watch out for anymore footballs,” Healer Malfoy starts, “Should you have any more problems, you know where to find us.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, you hurriedly grab your bag from the gurney and leave the exam room, taking extra care to hide the dejected look on your face as you pass the handsome healer.

Draco watches you go. You all but sprint out of the hospital, almost desperate in your escape to get away from him and his short words.

The threat has been gone for years; vanquished not too long after the night Draco had taken your memories, after the night that continues to haunt his nightmares.

Draco Malfoy had faced the Dark Lord and lived – he has stared death in its sallow face and was not the first to look away. Yet, Draco was ever more terrified of what you would do should your memories ever return. Your rage was entirely more terrifying than staring into the soulless eyes of the man his parents so blindly followed.

Draco releases a breath as he spies your figure finally leaving the hospital. The released breath does nothing to loosen the tightness in his chest; the tightness that had been there since that fateful night in the astronomy tower.

He’s had this argument with himself countless times, always the same words and the same fight. His own justification for why he did what he did; why he took your memories of your relationship and sent you away. Deep down, Draco knows that he should have communicated better. He knows that he should have sat you down and explained to you his worries and his fears. However, at barely seventeen years old, Draco was just getting used to the idea of love. He knew what was coming; he knew that there were dark times ahead and he was unfortunately aware of how you could be used against him should the time come.

He had a decision to make, so he did. Thinking back on it now, it had almost killed him. He had never experienced a pain like it. Draco had been hit with the Sectumsempra curse and the pain that followed was nothing compared to the pain he felt when erasing your memories.

Draco turns away from the door. You’ve disappeared around the corner; your head bowed, and shoulders hunched. He has no reason to watch you now. He turns away from the door, wondering whether it was fate that had brought you back into his life after such an absence.

An absence he caused.

-------

You return to work the day after; feeling fine enough to stand in front of your class and deliver your lessons of literacy and maths but also of spellcasting and magical control for infants. You followed your lesson plans to the letter; resolutely refusing to stray from them should they let your mind wander to the handsome healer and his cold words.

The healer continues to play on your mind for the rest of the week: at work, at home. You would go over the brief conversation you had with him; wondering at which point his demeanour changed, that he became closed off and cold. He hadn’t been welcoming from the beginning, but by the end of it he had downright cold. It should have warned you off; it should have been warning enough to keep your distance and to do your best to ensure you never needed to return to the emergency room, yet there was something about him. There was something hidden within his grey eyes, a dark secret ravaging him from the inside out and you felt desperate to know what it was.

-------

As much as you adore your vocation, as much as you love coming into work and greeting the children with a smile, there was something sweet about sending them home to their parents. A sweet relief that loosens the weight on your chest somewhat.

A shock of blonde hair has you turning back to the school gates. Your breath catches in your throat as you recognise the handsome face of the healer that had treated you only a week ago. His face not one you felt like you could forget.

“Healer Malfoy?” You call out, confused at his presence.

He smiles bashfully, “Draco, please.”

“Draco,” You greet. “Do you often make home visits?” You tease, a smile crossing your face.

“Technically, I’m at your place of work so this would be a work visit,” Draco comments, laughing lightly, seeming to be in a much better mood than the last time you had met him.

Your smile grows larger at the sound of his laughter. “Okay… do you often make work visits?”

He shakes his head, “No. I do not.”

“Why are you here?”

“Two reasons.”

“And they are.”

“One, and one I thought of just now – I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at the hospital the other day, I was rude, and it was out of line so I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I doubt that you get asked by many of your patients whether you know them.”

Draco smiles, “You’re right, I don’t, but nevertheless, I shouldn’t have been so rude, and I apologise.”

“Then I accept your apology, only if you accept mine.”

He goes to argue but stops himself at the last possible moment. You meet his gaze head on, watching the emotions pile up there. There’s something lingering in his grey eyes; something deeper as if he has more to apologise for but he isn’t ready to confess to what or why he even needs to say more.

“What was your second reason for being here?” You question, curiosity piqued but also wanting to move the conversation on, unable to look into his grey eyes any long for the fear that your heart may burst out of your chest.

Draco smiles, “I’m picking up my godson.”

“Your godson? Do I know who he is?”

“You might. Tobias Dawsey?”

Recognition flashes across your face as you picture the small brunette in your mind’s eye. “I do know him! I taught him last year,” You all but shout, “He’s your godson?”

Draco nods, “He is. I’ve worked with his mother from my very first day at St. Mungo’s, she asked me to be godfather when she found out she was pregnant with him.”

His words warm your heart; the care he has for his godson obvious in his voice. You go to say more, to try and coax more information out of him. Your need to know him almost choking you with its intensity, but for the life in you, you couldn’t figure out why you needed to know him. You move to speak, but you’re interrupted by the excited crow of a young child.

“Uncle Draco!” Tobias shouts, running up to his uncle on his little legs, his bookbag banging against them with every step.

“Hey kiddo,” Draco greets, picking up the child making grabby arms for him.

“Do you know Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Draco nods. “Miss (Y/L/N) came into work the other week,” He states, thankfully not exaggerating further.

Tobias frowns, turning his attention to you, concerned about his favourite teacher, “Are you okay though?”

You smile at the young brunette, “I’m all better. Your Uncle Draco fixed me up.”

Tobias nods seriously, “He’s the best Healer ever.”

You laugh; the love Tobias has for his godfather so clear within his voice, it only warms your heart further. “I have no doubt in that, Tobias. Off you go anyway, I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting home.”

Tobias and Draco wave at you as they leave the school grounds. The smile on your face doesn’t fade as you watch them walk away, the young boy chattering the ear off his devoted uncle.

Deep down, where you would only admit to yourself and no-one else, you hoped that you would get to see the handsome blonde healer again.

-------

Over the following weeks you spy Draco’s presence more by the school gates. Tobias clearly adores him, sprinting into his uncle’s arms the moment he sees him waiting for him. Crossing your arms across your chest, you comment, “You must be a very devoted godfather to volunteer to pick up Tobias this often.”

Draco shrugs nonchalantly as if the task of reorganising his shifts was nothing of a chore, “I enjoy spending time with him and…”

“And?”

Draco ducks his head, feeling the familiar heat of blush creep up his neck, “I like talking to you.”

He feels like it’s the wrong thing to say. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. If he had an ounce of human decency within him, he would turn away from you the moment Tobias arrives. He would walk away from you, never to come back into your life again. What he did all those years ago was unforgivable despite having your permission. Draco knows he shouldn’t be back in your life, but now that he had seen you once or twice, he had to see you more.

He felt like an addict. He couldn’t leave you alone. Draco didn’t want to if he was honest with himself especially when you grin at him so widely his heart pounds in his chest.

You duck your head, your hair hiding your face. “I like talking to you too even if it is only at the school gate,” You shyly admit.

“Then we should change that,” Draco stutters out before he backs down. He wants to kick himself; he should turn away from you now and leave you alone for good, but that one selfish part of him that powers his heart tells him to stay put.

If possible, your smile grows larger, “Then we should change that.”

------

The friendship feels so natural once it starts; once the both of you get past the initial awkwardness that seemed to loiter from Draco’s cold words earlier in the year. It started with longer conversations at the school gate, but then he would come with Tobias’ mother and wait for you as Tobias would reluctantly leave with his mother. From there, it grew into a timid friendship that slowly grew more surer of itself as you invited Draco out for food or to museums or to spend the weekend with you, walking around the city when he wasn’t working.

However, as the friendship became more solid, you could not ignore the way your heart sped up with every smile and every laugh. You could not ignore the way your face heated each time he winked at you; a private joke shared between you. It didn’t feel like a passing fancy. It felt like something deeper, as if the feelings had been there before and had been dormant until now. You felt as if you were always meant to feel this way about Draco – the feelings tugging on memories you weren’t even sure were yours. Flashes of blonde hair and the powerful scent of jasmine all tied in with late nights in a tower you could barely recognise. Draco made you feel like the only person in the world; he was supportive and kind and funny. He was everything you could want and more – how could you not fall for him?

There was still the remaining secret though. It haunted him; his eyes clouded over whenever it was on his mind as if he was returning to the very memory itself. He would return shier, unsure of himself as if the friendship he had forged with you was about to implode and leave him shattered once more.

You ask him about it once. The two of you sat on your couch; you introducing Draco the wonders of muggle films and showing him your favourites when you catch him zone out. Your finger reaches out, pokes his cheek. “Where did you just go?” You question, a smile in your voice.

Draco reaches out, grabbing your finger, “Nowhere of importance.”

You frown, pulling your finger out of his grip, “You do that a lot.”

“Do what a lot?”

“Disappear on me. It’s like you have something big to tell me, but you just aren’t ready yet.”

Draco feels certain his heart stops in his chest. He tries to laugh but it comes out strangled; choked by the worry creeping up from his gut. Draco opens his mouth to reply but you beat him to it. “I’m not saying you have to tell me what it is now,” You start, “I just want you to know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Draco closes his eyes, rests his head against the back of your couch. You had so graciously opened your home to him, opened your life and offered friendship to him, and he felt awful. As he should, he thinks to himself. He had taken memories of importance from you, and here you sat, unaware of the crime and sitting with the criminal himself.

It felt like there was a countdown ticking over his head. It felt like he only had a certain amount of time until he had to come clean and he had to tell you about that night in the astronomy tower.

Yet for all that was in him, for all that created his moral compass, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and ruin whatever was blossoming between the two of you. Draco supposes he is a coward. He probably is, he tells himself, but he cannot bring himself to care about his cowardice when you smile at him like he holds the sun and stars for you.

Does he regret that night? With everything within him. Would he do it again knowing the outcome? Of course he would. He would sacrifice himself and his happiness a thousand times over to ensure your safety.

---------

Draco tells himself he’ll confess the next time he sees you which is both all too soon and not soon enough. His love for you had never faded; he hadn’t been the one to forget the short relationship you had. The intensity that accompanied teenage love and infatuation had never left the forefront of his mind. After all, how could they? Now that you were back in his life, he felt the teenager again – utterly drawn to you and unwilling to let you go.

He confesses late on a Tuesday night. The shift at St. Mungo’s had been long and arduous, but he got through it with the single thought of you. He knew that at the end of it, he would get to knock on your door. He only hoped that you wouldn’t turn him away once you found out the truth. Your hatred of him could never rival the hatred he feels for himself, but he finds himself hoping for your forgiveness.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco states, plain and simple.

You chew on the inside of your cheek before answering, “You can tell me anything.”

“You had a memory charm used on you in Sixth Year, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” You demand. Despite the friendship grown between the both of you, you hadn’t told him that. You had given him bits and pieces, alluded to the fact that there were gaps in your memories, but you hadn’t told him the truth. Just like he hadn’t told you what made him disappear inside his mind like he so often does.

“I took your memories. It was me.” Draco confesses, his voice clear in the quiet room.

“What?” You shout, anger shooting through you.

“I took your memories. I used a memory charm on you in the middle of Sixth Year when things started to take a turn for the worst.”

“What gave you the right?” You cry, tears building out of upset and anger.

“You did,” Draco states plainly, “You didn’t want to at first, but you came round to my way of thinking when you saw how bad things were getting at home.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

“Because once upon a time, you were in love with me.”

You shake your head, pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to get to grips with the piles of information only just dumped on you. Draco watches you pace; his grey eyes following each step intently as you work through everything in your head.

Worry shines bright in his eyes when you stop pacing. He goes to take a step towards you, but you step back. The small space between you feels like a great chasm, a gaping void that Draco is desperate to fill, to patch up.

“Tell me everything,” You state before adding on, “Please.”

Draco releases a shuddering breath before starting: “We were friends through school. I don’t remember how the friendship started, but it did and for years we were really good, close friends. Then along the way, the friendship changed. We fell in love, or whatever it is at sixteen/seventeen years old. We had less than a year together when things started to change; when whisperings of the Dark Lord’s return were strengthened by continued attacks on the Ministry.

“You argued with me for hours,” Draco pauses, laughing as he remembers what you clearly couldn’t, “I had never seen you so angry or so stubborn. You were adamant, you didn’t want to but then you went quiet and I knew you saw what I had seen. You agreed after a minutes silence; told me yes even though it broke the both of us to do so.

Draco’s grey eyes are lined with unshed tears as he murmurs, “I couldn’t let them have you. My family was working with the darkest wizard there had ever been in the last century, if he had gotten a whiff of what you meant to me, you would be used in ways that not even I could imagine. My aunt would have taken great pleasure in ensuring that you would be a bargaining chip for me to fulfil whatever mission they handed me. That was something I couldn’t allow.

“It broke me to do it. To watch your eyes go blank as the memories of what we shared disappeared. Selfishly, I asked you to wait for me, not knowing that they would be tied to you afterwards. I just… I couldn’t let you go. As a teenager and an adult. There’s no real excuse for what I did, but know it was out of love for you that I did it.”

Draco falls silent. His heavy words adding to the growing tension in the room. Draco’s mind runs a thousand miles a minute; his eyes don’t leave you as he watches you work through every emotion coursing through your body. He sees the anger, the sadness, the frustration, but he also sees the relief at having an answer for those gaps that you had only recently confessed to him.

You break the loaded silence, “I forgot the relationship, but on some level I don’t think I ever forgot you.”

“What?” Draco asks, the air rushing out of him in one fell swoop.

A smile creeps across your face; relishing somewhat at having caught him off-guard. “I have glimpses of what I always assumed was a past life. The memories were always fuzzy around the edges, but they were clear enough for me to catch glimpses of blonde hair or to spy the pattern of a ring much like the one on your signet ring.”

Draco remains silent; he doesn’t dare talk; he doesn’t dare breathe. Nothing prepares him for your next words.

“I waited for you… like you asked.”

Those words. Those foolish words that he had absolutely no right to whisper to you. Draco had been so overwhelmed in that moment, yet he couldn’t ignore the small kernel of hope that despite the strength of the memory charm, a part of you would remember him and would wait for him.

But you had.

You had waited for him. You barely knew who he was, but you had waited for him, hoping that one day he would cross your path.

“Fuck,” Draco whispers, running a hand through his growing hair, starting to pace the length of your living room.

“When I woke after my memories had been taken, I clearly didn’t remember a single thing, but I had the echoes of three words ringing in my ears. A beg, a plea of someone – a boy asking for me to wait for them. I didn’t know completely who I was waiting for, I didn’t know it was you until I saw you at the hospital that first time and then again so soon after leaving. My memories haven’t returned, and I doubt they will, but I just know that it was you who I was waiting for.”

Draco falls silent, letting your words fall over him and sink into his skin, settling deep within his bones.

Years. It had been years since that night in the astronomy tower where he took your memories. It had been years since he felt the longing and love; there had been no-one lese and there would be no-one else. For Draco, there was only ever you… and you had waited.

You had waited for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco repeats, hands continuing to run through his hair in frustration as he paces the room. He faces you; grey eyes wild with emotion, “How are you not angry with me?”

“I am angry with you! I’m furious with you, Draco! You took my memories, but if you say I agreed to it, I’m just as angry with myself for allowing myself to forget you.”

“What do we do?” He asks, a hand running down his face as he tries to figure out the next step.

“Forgiveness,” You state simply, “We try to move on.”

Draco’s hands drop limply at his side as he gasps, “Forgiveness?”

“What happened after you erased my memories, Draco?”

“There was a war. I was on the wrong side,” is all he says. He isn’t ready to go into too much detail. That’s another story for another day.

“Was that what you were trying to protect me from? The wrong side?”

Draco nods wordlessly. He saw things going south so quickly but his parents hadn’t. They pushed and they pushed; inducting him into the same pureblood fanaticism they relished. “How can you even think of forgiving me? I took your memories. I stole them from you, and you won’t ever get them back,” He argues, wanting to know whether you truly understood what you were doing by forgiving him.

“Let me ask you something, Draco.”

“What?”

“Do you plan on leaving again?”

He shakes his head immediately. He doesn’t think he could leave you even if he tried.

You shrug your shoulders, “That’s how I can think of forgiving you.”

“I don’t understand,” He whispers; his own self-hatred confused by your words.

“The wizarding war was about to descend into war. We were confused, scared teenagers who didn’t see another option. You asked my permission, Draco, and I granted it clearly.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No buts. I said yes. I gave permission and we cannot change the past, Draco but we can control our future. It’s going to require work on both sides, but you can tell me about what I’m missing and at the same time we can forge something new.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile shyly, taking that all important step towards him, “Make some new memories with me, Draco.”

*****

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @just-a-belgian-girl @aspiringsloth20 @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

Note

How will nmy react to a memory loss jgy how think himself a nie scet member ?

There were murmurs around him when he first started waking up.

“– last few times – appears he thinks that ��”

“– need to avoid any disturbances –”

“ - perhaps pretend -”

“Absolutely not.”

That last one was Sect Leader Nie.

His voice was loud and piercing as always, a general accustomed to needing to make himself heard over the din of battle and never quite having adjusted to situations where it wasn’t needed, and Meng Yao found himself relaxing a little bit just at the sheer familiarity of it. Nie Mingjue was as reliable as the sunrise: once you were one of his people, he’d defend you to the death.

If he was here, Meng Yao was safe.

He went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, the room was empty but for Sect Leader Nie, who was sitting at the desk doing paperwork. Probably paperwork that Meng Yao should be doing, but for the injury that must have led to all of this – he didn’t remember it at all, but short-term amnesia was a common side effect of certain injuries, and his head was wrapped in bandages.

Still, he struggled to sit up. “Sect Leader Nie,” he called, and Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders tensed. “If you want my help –”

“You should be resting,” Sect Leader Nie said. He was staring at the wall in front of him instead of turning back to look at Meng Yao – a sign of guilt? Had he been involved in what happened? “Do not trouble yourself.”

“And let you mess up my filing system?” Meng Yao teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood. “Don’t forget how long it took me to fix the accounts the way I like it –”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Meng Yao paused, then, abruptly concerned: Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders were curved inwards, as if expecting a blow – afraid of pain. Afraid of him?

Impossible.

And yet, at the same time – unmistakable.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” he asked, keeping his voice level. He always kept his voice level, no matter the circumstances; someone certainly had to, and it wasn’t going to be anyone surnamed Nie. “Are you expelling me from your service?”

It was a joke, of course. Nie Mingjue liked him, respected him, valued him – had made it clear a thousand ways that he would never listen to gossip or to slander, would never judge him by who his mother was, and Meng Yao couldn’t imagine what sort of dire mistake would be necessary to make Nie Mingjue refuse to stand by him, even against the world.

“You’re the one who will leave,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice cutting, but then the anger flowed out of his shoulders and he sighed, closing his eyes, as if he had mistakenly become angry over the wrong thing. “It is not that I didn’t know that your ambitions had always been with Lanling, not Qinghe.”

Bile and panic rose up Meng Yao’s throat, but what could he say?

It was true. He had come to Qinghe because he had heard that they respected talent there, regardless of birth; he had come because he had needed a place to rise to prominence, where he could become so respectable that even his father would be unable to ignore him.

Qinghe had always been a waystation, not a destination.

Or, if one wanted to look at it with less kindness – he had treated it as a stepping-stone.

Had Nie Mingjue discovered how Meng Yao had schemed to get his attention, his sympathy? The little tricks he’d played to get him to agree to take a chance on an unknown, all the ways he’d wormed his way into the man’s life so that it would be impossible to extract him without damage? Or was it something more recent, something hidden away in his lost memories – had his father asked him to betray some confidence of Nie Mingjue’s? Turn over some information, take some secret action…had he done it?

Was that why Nie Mingjue didn’t want to look at him?

“Sect Leader Nie…”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” Nie Mingjue said bluntly. “The doctors told me to play along, pretend not to…I told them trying to hide it from you was pointless, that you were too smart, that you’d figure it out – I assume you have by now?”

“I’ve lost my memory,” Meng Yao said. He was shivering, and it wasn’t cold. “I woke up and the doctors realized that I’d forgotten a great deal, so they wanted you not to cause me any disturbance…how much time have I lost?”

“The war is over,” Nie Mingjue said, and surely that should be cause for celebration? But Nie Mingjue’s voice was flat and neutral, as if some terrible thing had happened, and his fists were clenched in rage. “You have been recognized by the Jin sect, and now live in Lanling. I cannot speak to the quality of your life, or to your happiness, but you have at least achieved that much.”

It was not that Meng Yao thought he’d be happy in Lanling – it was that he hadn’t thought he’d be happy anywhere, and found to his surprise that Qinghe actually did make him happy. It wasn’t supposed to, nothing was supposed to; it was all supposed to be part of the plan, that was all, a means to an end.

He wasn’t supposed to become fond of Sect Leader Nie, who tried so hard and listened so earnestly; he wasn’t supposed to be friends with Nie Huaisang, a charming waste of space who ought to have been born as a roly-poly kitten instead.

He was supposed to be in Lanling, by his father’s side, and now it appeared he was – and yet the injury he suffered had driven his memories back to his time at Qinghe.

That said something, he thought.

He’d had head injuries before, memory issues, dating back to his childhood; his mother had hired a doctor for him over it, a real one and not some faker, and he’d explained that when injured, Meng Yao’s extraordinary mind would retreat to the place it felt safest, recreating the past out of all those perfectly preserved memories and sinking into it as if it were real. If this injury followed the pattern of the others, there was no need for any treatment beyond time – soon enough, he would start to remember, and reality would gradually reassert itself over fantasy.

In the past, no matter what, his memory would always return to those few months when he was eight years old, when his mother had met a possessive benefactor and they had lived free and easy under his care – it had ended horribly, of course, but at the time he didn’t know that.

This time, his memory had returned to his days in Qinghe.

And Nie Mingjue still wouldn’t look at him.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“You assume that you’ve done something?”

“You don’t want to look at me,” Meng Yao said. A moment of silence, with Nie Mingjue not giving in, stiff and quiet, so he added, quietly, “I warned you in the beginning that I was unworthy of the trust you placed in me.”

In the end, Nie Mingjue turned to look at him. He seemed tired, and his eyes were bloodshot in a way that did not speak well of his health.

“Tell me what I did,” Meng Yao said. “I want to know.”

Nie Mingjue exhaled. “You killed a captain,” he said dully. “Premeditated murder, and you excused it by saying that he had stolen your glory and bullied you; even if it was true, you never once said a word of it to me before, never sought some other means to resolve it. You then defected to the Wen sect, becoming a master torturer and Wen Ruohan’s right hand; you killed my men, tortured me, and then killed him to become a war hero. After that, you were accepted into the Jin sect, and Lan Xichen and I swore brotherhood with you.”

He paused, then, but that was not the end, or else he would not be so angry.

Meng Yao waited, his mind dancing over all the excuses, all the things he could say, belated justifications, things that would cast him in a good light, a better light – what Nie Mingjue had described was obviously a problem, but not an insoluble one, and his future self should have known that. He could still fix this.

But to fix it, he needed to know the full extent of his crimes first.

“My qi became disordered after the war,” Nie Mingjue finally said, continuing. “Lan Xichen proposed a treatment: a Lan melody known as the Song of Clarity. But he is busy, so you took on the responsibility of playing for me…”

No, Meng Yao thought. No.

But at once he knew where the story led, even before the telling of it was done. A story that started with premeditated murder, however his future self had justified it to himself, could only end with the same –

Why would he do something like that? Perhaps because Nie Mingjue turned away from him after the first murder, as he ought to have known he would – Nie Mingjue tried so hard, and thought everyone else did, too; the glimpse at what Meng Yao was really like, the creature of spite and bitterness and hatred, willing to kill the filthy way, hidden in the dark…it would have come as a shock to him.

And yet his former self had obviously salvaged it, somehow; Nie Mingjue had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, to make up with him, to treat him as an equal, and still he –

Surely no prize could be worth this.

“Do you know why I did it?” he asked quietly, staring down at his own clenched fists, hating iron for not being steel. His damaged mind was telling him that what he had had in Qinghe was dearer to him than his own mother, and he had nearly destroyed it with his own two hands.

“The Nie sect and the Jin sect are at a crossroads,” Nie Mingjue said, and at last, at last Meng Yao recognized the flatness of his tone and the lack of visible signs of fury as the signs of medicine, the sluggish pain relief that could help stymie an incipient qi deviation. The poisonous song he played must have come very near to working. “Jin Guangshan wants the title of Chief Cultivator; I think there should be none. Jin Guangshan protects Xue Yang even after he murdered an entire clan; I think he deserves to die – I asked you for his head, and you promised it to me…you never intended to deliver. There can be only one sect ascendant, and you are, as much as he hates it, your father’s heir.”

His heir. Had he done something to Jin Zixuan, then? Unsatisfied with only the name he had promised himself he would obtain, had he coveted the power, too, and sought to achieve it by any means possible?

If he had reached the point of being willing to murder Nie Mingjue, then surely he had done that, too.

“I bashed your head in,” Nie Mingjue said conversationally. “During the deviation that you provoked. Lan Xichen stopped me from actually killing you, and from dying myself, and then you awoke without any memory of what you’d done, calling yourself Meng Yao again as if you were still – as if you still –”

Someone had asked Nie Mingjue to come in here and pretend, Meng Yao realized, and with a start realized also that he was furious about it. Someone had told him to come in here and play pretend with his would-be murderer as if they were still friends.

It might even have been Lan Xichen who’d done it.

There were tears on Nie Mingjue’s cheeks. He did not wipe them away the way Nie Huaisang would have, trying to hide his pain; he only let them fall, his eyes sliding shut once more – he could not look at Meng Yao, and Meng Yao couldn’t blame him.

“I wish I could go back,” he said, and Nie Mingjue opened his eyes to look at him. “Before I made those decisions. I wish I was still Meng Yao, and could do things differently. Is it too late for that?”

With anyone else, he would know the answer already. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have asked.

With anyone else, his mind would still be back in those wonderful days of being eight and alone with his mother for the very first time and last time.

“How can I ever trust you again?” Nie Mingjue asked, shaking his head in denial. “You drove me into a qi deviation – you wanted to kill me, knowing it would leave Huaisang the position of sect leader, knowing how cruel a death it was –”

“Is it too late?”

This was not something that could be repaired easily, with words and a gentle smile. This would take action and sacrifice. But before he committed himself, he had to know if it were even possible.

If Nie Mingjue could still forgive him, even now –

If he was still one of Nie Mingjue’s people, to be defended until death.

Nie Mingjue abruptly stood up, unsteady on his feet, clearly still ill – if I am half the murderer that I appear to be in his stories, I will kill those doctors who prioritized my health, this farce, over his, and if Lan Xichen was involved I will make it clear to him what wrong he has done – and shook his head, but this time it was not a denial.

“I never know what to do with you,” he said, and it was not a no.

It was not a no.

Jin Guangyao smiled.

(At the trial, which happened eventually, Nie Mingjue spoke in his favor, and his would-be murderer was remanded into the custody of Qinghe for whatever punishment they saw fit. It didn’t last long, but it was an excellent alibi for his father’s untimely death, even though it did not solve all the questions that lingered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes. But that, too, was not an insoluble problem.)

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

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the-final-sif · 5 years ago

Text

BNHA Venom!AU (set in the US for ease of writing) where Izuku is a baby symbiote who accidentally ended up on earth. He ended up lucking into a host, an 8 year old Katsuki who’d been backpacking through the woods nearby where he landed.

Katsuki was always a bit of a weird kid. He didn’t get along well with any of the kids he knew, and his parents were rather distant, being high-end fashion designers meant they were always off across the world doing other things. As a result, when this weird alien attaches itself to him, he’s annoyed for sure, but he doesn’t panic, or call the police, or really do any of the normal things that a child should do in that situation.

He just kinda,,, puts up with Izuku. Sure, he’s pissed off and he tells Izuku to go away for awhile, but soon enough he learns to accept this weird alien that’s a part of his life.

Quickly, both he and Izuku discover that Izuku can help him do some pretty cool things, and Izuku needs lots of chocolate to stay healthy. Both things are just fine by Katsuki, and he ends up deciding that Izuku is actually alright in his books.

Some government agents snoop around, at least somewhat aware of an alien being in the area, and Katsuki quickly learns to hide Izuku from anyone else. He doesn’t want them to take his new friend and hurt him like they described. Katsuki manages to escape suspicion as not even his own parents know about his backpacking/hiking hobbies, and nobody really thinks a spoiled 8 year old kid of two fashion designers would be 10 miles out in the woods.

After that, life keeps going for Izuku and Katsuki. They learn to live together, how to adapt to all the various quirks of sharing a body, how to use the powers Izuku can give Katsuki, and how to keep Izuku well hidden.

It’s all going great, right up until Katsuki makes it into an extremely prestigious boarding school; UA. It’s his dream high school, but it’s so much harder to hide the fact he’s got an alien living in his body when he’s living with other teenagers, and the security at the school is much higher than what he’s used to. For fuck’s sake, the vice president’s kid goes to this school! There’s no way they aren’t getting caught.

Still, Izuku doesn’t want Katsuki to give up on his dream and encourages him, so Katsuki reluctantly goes to UA anyways, trying his best to keep Izuku hidden.

But there are... incidents. Not ones where anyone dies, but people seem intent on harassing Katsuki, from fellow classmates to muggers outside the school, and Izuku is very protective by nature. After a few of these ‘incidents’, a certain underground branch of the government starts getting suspicious again, launching an investigation into the school.

Meanwhile, Aizawa, Katsuki’s primary teacher, has started noticing lots of weird things about Katsuki. Like how he always has two columns in his notebooks, with one side full of carefully written notes and the other side filled with random excited musings in rushed handwriting. Or how sometimes he'll seem to become a different person for a moment, or how he seems to vanish at odd moments.

Weirdest of all is his homework/essays, where Aizawa would swear half the time it's a different person writing them (he only knows for a fact it's Katsuki doing both, since he's watched the kid write most of his essays at various stages in the library). The core ideals themselves seem to change between essays, and that’s what bothers him the most since he’s never seen that in a student before.

Being the good concerned teacher he is, Aizawa considered all the evidence before he called Katsuki into his office. Katsuki and Izuku are sure they've been caught.

Then Aizawa asks Katsuki if he's ever been tested to having multiple personalities.

And listen, Katsuki does not believe in faking mental disorders. But by this point, he's really worried that the government is gonna get Izuku, so when he sees the chance to excuse all his weird behaviors he latches on with everything he’s got.

So Katsuki explained, while trying to lie as little as possible, that he's never formally been tested (and he doesn't want to be), but there is another person living in his body named Izuku. Izuku is very shy though, and would prefer to not be mentioned/brought attention to. As such he asked Aizawa to not tell anyone else about him. Aizawa agreed easily, after all he doesn’t see any real risk from Izuku, and he’s happy that Katsuki was honest with him about the situation. He tells both of them that they can come talk to him any time if they need help, Katsuki agreed to that, and for a little while Izuku & Katsuki were safe.

I dunno exactly how the class finds out about Izuku, but I do know that Iida is one of the first ones during a tense situation. As a result, Katsuki and Izuku get to watch as straight laced goody two shoes Iida looks a government agent right in the eyes and lies his ass off to him to protect Izuku.

For this AU, the ‘Kidnapping’ happens when the government managed to catch onto Katsuki. They’re sure they’ve finally found the alien, and they move in to capture Katsuki.

Only, Katsuki gets wind of this ahead of time, so in a quick moment of desperation, he forces a weakened Izuku to transfer off of him and onto Shouto, since Enji is like the vice president in this AU and that makes Shouto much, much harder for a government agency to fuck with. Shouto is somewhat aware of what Izuku is, and he agrees to take the other to safety.

Poor Izuku can only watch as Katsuki is captured, while Shouto forces him to stay hidden for all their safety.

It's okay though, because the four people who know about Izuku and what happened (Shouto, Kirishima, Iida, and Momo) decide to break into the government base to get Katsuki back, with Izuku's help obviously.

They get most of the way through their super secret infiltration mission, but something goes wrong and they’re almost caught.

Until while they're hiding and the people search for them are a hair away from discovering them, an absolutely furious Aizawa just fucking waltzes in with the fucking president (All-Might for this AU) to demand his student back.

Now at this point, the agency has no actual proof of alien life. They have half connected incidents and eyewitness reports, but nothing definitive. When they took Katsuki into custody, they’d tested him immediately, sure that they were going to get their proof that way, but since Katsuki no longer has Izuku, the tests all came back negative. As such they have no real justification for having basically kidnapped him.

The agent guy or whoever has been chasing them tries to justify themselves by offering proof of 'Izuku' existence, specifically recordings of Katsuki talking to himself and referring to an ‘Izuku’ as well as written notes. Aizawa's responds that he was already aware of Izuku, that Katsuki had already discussed the other with him, and that he cannot believe they've detained a 16 year old on account of him having multiple personalities. All-Might backs Aizawa up, and shuts down the entire thing as there’s no evidence they’ve done anything but harass Katsuki.

That leaves the agents shit out of luck, so they have to let Katsuki go. The other kids sneak out the way they came in, before quietly joining Aizawa and Katsuki. Aizawa waits until everyone is outside and out of range of any cameras, and then he just turns on the entire group.

"Okay, so first of all, I'm extremely disappointed that you four decided to break into a government agency with armed guards before so much as texting me."

"I'm so sorry sir."

"We could've thought that through a little better, I'll admit."

"Katsuki was in trouble, but yeah, I guess we could've asked for help."

"I stand by what I did and I'd do it again."

Aizawa, actively chooses to ignore Shouto's comment for right now, but does still glare at him for it.

"Second of all, that man may be a fool, but I am not. Where's the alien?”

Everyone's quiet for a tense moment before Izuku makes his choice and pokes his head out from Shouto, introducing himself politely.

After getting a full explanation on what happened, Aizawa gives Katsuki a Look (tm) to which Katsuki defends himself.

“Listen, I did not lie, I just purposefully omitted that the person living in my body is also an actual alien from outer space.”

And Aizawa can’t really argue with that, so he just accepts that his class has an extra student in it from now on.

They let the rest of class 1-A in on the Izuku secret, since a lot of them had been coming close to figuring it out anyways, and so the entire class slowly adjusts to having an alien as one of them. It’s surprisingly easy to come to terms with, and as Izuku slowly starts coming out of his shell (ie hiding inside Katsuki whenever someone tries to talk to him), the entire class discovers he’s a total sweetheart & adore him.

#bakudeku #katsuki bakugou #midoriya izuku #shouto todoroki #aizawa shouta #symbiote #venom!au #bnha #mha #class 1-a #sif speaks #my headcanons #sif writes #mostly I just like the visual of Izuku getting embarassed and #then he just hides inside Katsuki #also Izuku is perfect for a symbiote #b/c he's also very clingy and wants to support others

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ginmo · 5 years ago

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How do you think the Bran and Jaime’s meeting will go in the books? I’ve read theories guessing he might end up as King Bran’s Hand, meta where the writers want him to become a mentor or father figure to the Starks in a full circle of his redemption arc, while others don’t want or think he should be involved with the Starks long-term either because of his and his family’s sins against the Starks or because they view his arc as reclamation rather than redemption or atonement. 1/2

This is what GRRM said about Bran and exploring time.

“It's an obscenity to go into somebody's mind. So Bran may be responsible for Hodor's simplicity, due to going into his mind so powerfully that it rippled back through time. The explanation of Bran's powers, the whole questions of time and causality - can we affect the past? Is time a river you can only sail one way or an ocean that can be affected wherever you drop into it? These are issues I want to explore in the book, but it's harder to explain in a show.” - Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon

Hodor’s name reveal is neat and all, but Bran’s power to manipulate the past doesn't exist just so we can randomly learn Hodor’s pointless name origin. That would be ridiculous unless the scene was used to introduce that ability. Hodor’s name reveal is important to the narrative, and I believe its purpose is to set up a much bigger event/reveal involved around Bran interfering with the past, not just observing it. I’m pretty sure GRRM was hint-hinting to D&D about this, which is why he told them about the random ass Hodor scene that was already written, thinking it would be obvious what that means for the overall plot and letting them run with it but………………..

Because of this, I think it’s possible Bran brought himself to where he is.

IF Bran isn’t involved in The Push, then he could have been involved with Jaime killing the Mad King. I kinda like the idea of Bran playing into Aerys’ madness, causing him to stock up on wildfire around the city, because then the wildfire would be an essential future plot element for a bigger purpose towards the end of the series and it would be a question of time, “a river you can only sail one way, or an ocean that can be affected wherever you drop it,” but for the entire series. (And, as someone with a passion in astrophysics, I’m a sucker for discussions around time. BUTTHAT’SJUSTME)

Do I totally subscribe to this theory? Eh. I’m still not convinced Bran is King of All of Westeros for reasons, but I’m open-minded. I DO think Jaime is surviving the series, for reasonsssss, so I’m putting that disclaimer out there right now. I will never claim with absolute confidence that he is surviving though because, I mean, nobody fucking knows, and there’s an argument for death. I’m just going off of narrative clues that I perceive to be clues, and taking other character arcs into consideration. After literally drawing up a table because I’m weird, the column for Survive has more evidence and justification than the column for Dies, so that’s why I lean the way I lean. SO with that being said, I think it’s possible he has more of a political future.

IF this is what GRRM is writing, Jaime would still be responsible for pushing him, of course, but future Bran would want to be pushed. He'd be setting everything in motion to create the butterfly effect that makes it happen.

Even if that isn’t what GRRM had intended with exploring time, it’s highly likely Bran’s character development is taking him down a path of apathy over it, meaning he wouldn’t be needing Jaime to do something for the purpose of redemption for him.

Speaking of Redemption…

-deep breath-

I’m going to go off on this a bit because it IS relevant, I swear.

“Limits of redemption” is probably the biggest wtf interpretation fandom has when it comes to what GRRM actually said. I’ll try not to go off on it too much here but -

Interviewer: Both Jaime and Cersei are clearly despicable in those moments. Later, though, we see a more humane side of Jaime when he rescues a woman, who had been an enemy, from rape. All of a sudden we don’t know what to feel about Jaime.

GRRM: One of the things I wanted to explore with Jaime, and with so many of the characters, is the whole issue of redemption. When can we be redeemed? Is redemption even possible? I don’t have an answer. But when do we forgive people? [...] I want there to be a possibility of redemption for us, because we all do terrible things. We should be able to be forgiven. Because if there is no possibility of redemption, what’s the answer then? [x]

I bolded “we” from the interviewer, because it gives context to GRRM’s answer with “we” being the readers, not the characters or Jaime himself. (I think there’s another interview where he says “limits of redemption” but it’s in the same context. I could be wrong but I SWEAR I heard it. Anyway…)

“I kind of tried to ask, ‘do you think he’s changed?’ to get him to talk about Jaime’s redemption arc, so he said something like he wanted to explore the concept of forgiveness and whether it’s possible to be forgiven for doing such horrible things, and that his goal was to ask the question, not give an answer.” [x]

Fandom thinks this is the characters giving Jaime forgiveness, and maybe there will be a small element of that in the books, but the question is for the readers. No, Jaime is not actively seeking redemption from people. His redemption is for himself, through living his best life, by rediscovering the person he used to be. Yes He Will Be Redeemed and No He Will Fail assume redemption is some arbitrary checklist determined by One Big Act, and they’re answers to a question GRRM doesn’t want to give an answer to.

The purpose of Jaime’s POVs is to ask the readers, and the most obvious moment of this was the bath scene. GRRM smacks us over the head with the Aerys confession, and then as we’re introduced to more and more of his POV chapters, he slowly chips away at the Jaime illusion that was intentionally established the moment he pushed one of the perceived child protagonists out of a window. It’s brilliant, and I’m sorry GRRM that a large chunk of your fandom is too dense to get it. How frustrating lol. I’ll be insulted for him. (I’m legit wondering if his recent angsty tweets about grey and redemption about real life stem from a concern that his fandom won’t understand the point of the series.)

To give you an idea of where these people are coming from, at least one BNF idiot on Twitter believes redemption hasn’t been explored with Jaime yet.

But uh…

GRRM mentioned his intent is to “explore redemption” after delivering Jaime POVs, because... it’s... not a spoiler… he’s already exploring redemption, because the question is being asked TO US. We were supposed to have an “oh shit” moment, realizing this is more complex than the surface level, biased perspective we were delivered at the beginning of the story. “Maybe Westeros and my protagonist have it wrong.” -cough- the people in the village in BatB -cough-

No matter how much fandom likes to pretend they love GRRM for pushing the boundaries of fantasy, they secretly fucking hate it. They love to be comfortable, dude. That’s why they read this series as if it’s a clear cut Good vs. Evil, because a) ego and b) that’s easy. If GRRM was writing Jaime as doing everything with ill intent then…. his… question isn’t being asked. They think everything he does right now is selfish and Bad, so they’re waiting. They want it spoon fed to them. They want classic fantasy. They want Starks = Good, Lannisters = Bad.

But… if the author sees Jaime’s actions as grey and complex, enough to ask the question to the readers if he’s redeemed in their eyes or not, then he’s not going to write an endgame that punishes the character for narrative payoff, because he doesn’t see his actions as “sins” or “crimes” in the same way that these people are. Once upon a time, a person on tumblr reblogged one of my posts and said that Jaime will rape Cersei before he kills himself and that will be his endgame. But GRRM doesn’t view Jaime as a rapist, so he’s not going to write Jaime as a rapist. I’m bringing that up, because it’s the same phenomenon. People can ignore authorial intent all they want, but NOT when it comes to predicting narrative trajectory. The general fandom is terrible at that lol.

The exploration of redemption for Jaime comes in the form of confronting his disillusioned self and everything attached to it. Before someone thinks, “lolllll he isn’t disillusioned”

“he actually was a very idealistic young man who was disillusioned by life” [x]

Jaime’s redemption is the path of returning to that idealistic man for himself. It’s by feeling ashamed of the things he’s done to hide his love for Cersei. It’s by gaining independence and detaching from the toxic relationship that caused a mess outside of them. It’s by wanting to be like the knights he admired in his youth, and like the woman warrior that inspired him.

So when I think about narrative payoff for Jaime, I don’t see it framed as him being “punished” for actions viewed as “crimes,” when GRRM clearly established those “crimes” as complicated and grey with a character already going through some positive development, and especially when the characters judging are written to be flawed as well.

On the other side, having him be “punished” by succumbing to hatred and anger is for sure giving an answer (this just… -sits on hands- don’t even get me started on THIS fucking hot take). That answer would be a clear, solid, “No, no matter how hard he tries to turn his life around, he can’t be redeemed, because he’s a hateful, angry, fucked up person.” I’ve legit seen people think “limits of redemption” is a boundary of redemption drawn in the sand that Jaime is walking towards but he won’t be able to cross it. I-.........................

And what’s even the point of his handchop if scenario number 2 happens?

“And Jaime, losing a hand, losing the very thing he defined himself on is crucial to where I think I want to go with the character. And he questions what do you make of yourself if you’ve lost that.” - GRRM [x]

(I’m going to put this quote in every post sorry not sorry)

So he’s going to take Jaime on this big identity journey just for him to be like “lol nah he isn’t that” …?? That makes the loss of his hand meaningless, not “crucial.” Is it really crucial for him to lose his hand if he’s bringing him back to the beginning? Is it really crucial for him to lose his hand to make himself realize he’s hateful and a failure and murder Cersei and then himself? No. He could have still met Brienne and been inspired by her knightly ways, attempted to live a better life, found out about Cersei’s affairs, etc. He doesn’t need to lose his hand to reach a point of fucking murder/suicide lmao fuck (not saying he’ll do that but I KNOW people are thinking it).

The loss of his hand is “crucial,” because GRRM has bigger endgame plans for him in the form of politics, and the journey to believably get there requires the forced loss of his warrior identity and everything that the hand symbolized.

AS FOR THE ACTUAL HAND THEORY...

Even though I’m undecided on it, I CAN see it IF Bran is King. I get it. Jaime’s missing his right Hand, he becomes the Hand to the kid he pushed out the window. Hardy har har. I understand how that would be pleasing.

And we all know GRRM said something about how the best ones for power are the ones who don’t want it…

And… this suspicious scene at the very beginning of the series…

“You should be the Hand.”

“Gods forbid,” a man’s voice replied lazily. “It’s not an honor I’d want. There’s far too much work involved.”

Bran hung, listening, suddenly afraid to go on. -AGOT

BUT IF that happens, it wouldn’t be there as some sort of #atonement #forredemption. It would be there because of Jaime’s growth as a character after developing into a political player, after asking himself, “what do you make of yourself if you’ve lost [the swordhand]?” He’s no longer the warrior he once was. He dislikes any sort of political position, because he feels most alive with a sword in his hand. But that was Warrior Jaime, and the point of “what do you make of yourself after you’ve lost that” is Jaime going down a different path after discovering that Warrior Jaime has died. I mean, he’d never be actively seeking power and thinking it’s the best career ever, like he’d probably be all -sighhhhhhh- about it, but he’d be doing the responsible thing and what’s necessary. He’d make himself useful in a new way.

“The Warrior had been Jaime’s god since he was old enough to hold a sword. Other men might be fathers, sons, husbands, but never Jaime Lannister, whose sword was as golden as his hair. He was a warrior, and that was all he would ever be.” - AFFC (Do I really need to make a post about how GRRM foreshadows? Mr. Bran: “I never fall”...?)

Jaime losing his hand was the narrative consequence for The Push, making all of his development post handchop -ALL OF HIS POVS- the redemption theme. It was the hand that pushed Bran, fucked his twin, killed his king, swung the sword against fandom’s Precious Protagonists…

“You ought to be pleased. I’ve lost the hand I killed the king with. The hand that flung the Stark boy from that tower. The hand I’d slide between my sister’s thighs to make her wet.” - AFFC

So if Jaime becomes his Hand, it would be the two characters meeting in the middle, not Jaime groveling at his feet, begging for forgiveness, framed as a punishment for sins - “sins” that fandom views as “sins” that need narrative payoff, because they don’t understand intent.

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monochromatic-ahhhh · 4 years ago

Text

i like how in the previous part i said "i wanna see how far i can go" then i proceed to just....not go HSHSHSHHS this is fun tho i have to admit

See i | See ii

"You...you don't remember anything, do you?"

Okay.

What the heck is she dreaming right now?

"No. No no no, I-I thought you would be immune-"

He's still talking, but she isn't paying attention anymore. Is this seriously that kind of scenario? 'She lost her memories, oh will she ever regain them', why on earth would she dream that?

Suddenly, she felt literal weight on her shoulders. The teenager boy's hands brought her to be all ears.

"-ody, listen to me. Trust me, okay?"

Their eyes met. His was brown in color, but dark enough to be considered black. It feels weird that she was paying attention to that.

"This is not a dream. I swear. This is not a dream."

Ah.

She looked to the side. Sure. She'll totally believe that.

The boy retreated his arms and crossed them.

"Mel, don't you dare not believe that," he said in a scolding tone.

Alright, then. Hold on, Mel? Is that her name?

"Yes, that's your name."

He nodded as he replied. Okay, cool.

...

Wait a second.

She abruptly turned right to where the boy was sitting, shocked at his response.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!"

He held up his hands, signalling surrender.

"I'm not a mind reader, okay? Calm down. I just figured you didn't know what your name was, and I've been calling you Mel for a while now. So, yeeaaahhh."

Admittedly, that was a big part of why she was shocked. But what she wanted to address was the name. That's not her name. Despite staying silent under the presence of this stranger, which is what seemed like common sense, she opted for him to know.

"Actually, it's-", she paused.

........

Haha oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-

She can't remember what her name is. All right! So she does have amnesia, and this isn't a dream after all?

"What is it?"

The other person seemed to have noticed her stressful thinking. Weirdly enough, this guy seems nice, friendly and.....familiar.

Why does he look familiar?

Maybe she should just go along with it. If this is a dream, she'll wake up soon enough. If it isn't, she just had to make sure she can trust this young man.

"I was just wondering," she started to say, which immediately urged her need of food and water, "if it's not too much to ask, can you prove that I can trust you?"

She then proceeded to mentally slap herself, because why the heck did she ask for her freaking security so politely as if she'll take no for an answer.

She forgot this person, so he could either be a friend or a foe. He stayed at her bedside and didn't look like he slept at all. When she first saw him, he looked like he was just crying. So maybe they're close enough for him to be this deeply concerned. This boy also feels familiar. That alone is enough to conclude that she definitely stumbled upon this person before. But can she trust her gut feeling that screams 'He's very trustworthy'?

She should've slept it off. This much thinking is tiring her out. But as much as she wanted to completely disintegrate from exhaustion, she had to wait for his reply.

The maybe-not-a-stranger looked like he was thinking, but he definitely knows what to say. Maybe there's so much to say that he doesn't know what to state first?

"You," he finally said, "..you think bracelets and necklaces give you bad luck so we got matching earrings, instead."

That was such a ridiculous piece of information she cannot recall, but somehow she knew he was right.

He parted the ash-brown hair covering his ears to reveal small silver earrings shaped like puzzle pieces. Small silver earrings that she recognized. A pair of puzzle pieces she knew would connect with another.

The other pair they'd join with would be rose-gold.

She reached for her ears feeling for whatever decorated them. She couldn't see what they look like, but they felt like small squares. Puzzle pieces. Her earrings.

Her face must have failed to contain how awestruck she is because the person beside her, who witnessed the whole thing going down, tried holding in his chuckles. He then asked a question as if he knew how she would react to it.

"Do you wanna try and piece them together?"

HECK YEAH, SHE DOES!

Instead of stating coherent words as a response, she looked at him excitedly. Her realizing what had to be done caused her to behave.

"I can't take my earrings off without a mirror though," she stated, sounding more downhearted than she intended.

"I can take them off for you," he volunteered, "o-only if it's fine with you, of course."

He turned away at that last bit. Strange. He looks kind of pink, now.

"I'd actually like to go home first."

...is what she should say.

She should go back to her family because....well, because. That doesn't really need justification, does it?

But eventually, the words that came out of her were, "I'd actually like to go see outside first," as if it would be a place she could never recognize.

"Ah, of course! Don't worry, we'll move to a...more suitable and comfortable place soon," he said as he guiltily scanned the room like a butler who failed to provide the needs of the long-lost princess. "I'll just check if it's safe to go out yet-"

Dings and annoying vibrations in his pocket interrupted him.

He hastily took his phone out to check whatever caused it to make such a fuss. From the extreme and ironically careful scrolling the boy is doing, she assumed he was reading an abundant number of messages sent to him at the same time. Or maybe he didn't read all of them because he returned the phone to his pocket with a gentle smile on his face, perhaps satisfied with atleast one of the texts he received?

Considering his smile as the sign, she got off the bed and fixed up her hair with the gray hairtie she had on her wrist. The other person in the room seemed to be surprised.

"Something wrong?"

He smiled softly. "It's nothing, really."

There's definitely something. But before she could say anything, he went for the doorknob and frantically gave an explanation she never expected.

"Okay. So this might be crazy, but don't freak out. There's definitely a lot of things that won't make any sense and beyond reality but I promise I'll explain everything."

Well, that's comforting.

He took the lead and turned the knob. "You ready?" he asked nervously.

She shrugged. How bad can it be?

Apparently, she could never even imagine how bad it is because as the door opened to unveil what kind of view it was blocking from her sight, she threw away every hope of maintaining her sanity.

She has henceforth concluded that she has lost it.

#HHSHSHSHSH #?????#i dont even know what i did #writing #fiction #monowritings

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staggeringsmite · 4 years ago

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HELLO! just finished properly listening to your (amazing!) corruption arc playlist! I have many thoughts, and so I wanted to ask you about specific moments and/or characters that you associate with songs (as mentioned in your tags), as I am simply SO intrigued. (did you have certain songs that were added for certain character(s)? were any songs for specific what if's? etc.) also, please consider this a free pass to ramble about anything related to the playlist that you wish. it is SO excellent!!

AHHHH!! thank you jade (both for the compliment and the free space to yell about my thoughts here because when i get playlist brainrot i get it Bad <3) // the playlist in question

i think i'm genuinely going to do a song-by-song thoughts below the cut, but here are some overview thoughts/associations if you don't wanna read all of that or don't have the time!

overall this started with athena by nova twins! i thought the sp*der imagery and overall vibe was great for a more sinister look at the wacky (mostly) chaotic neutral party as they are, just going full lolth. i wanted the pacing to be semi-slow and then drop into the more rock-heavy reckless villain-y section before moving into a (?) bittersweet? i guess? end that feels a bit more like a question mark of if it was worth it.

i think this party is full of extremely interesting motivations to side with an evil power for their own gain/the benefit of the people they care about, and each one of them has a very complex relationship with that so things spun wildly out of control as a thought about this.

for songs i associate with specific characters here's an overview, but you'll notice there aren't a lot for fy'ra rai or orym which i get into a bit more in the song-by-song:

all: i come with knives, into the spin, steady/steady, control, bad dreams / lolth: million years, athena, diggers / dariax: diggers, plenty, hollow / dorian: athena, grenadine, dangerous / fearne: plenty, you should see me in a crown, black wave / fy'ra rai: home / opal: home, grenadine, black wave, you should see me in a crown / orym: i'm not calling you a liar, dangerous

song-by-song >:)

1. i come with knives (acoustic) - this song, zoowee, so i went with the acoustic version because i think it's a nice slow but sinister start and it very much gave me the feeling of whenever you begin as a character to question taking this kind of power, that is a Source yes that you can do whatever with but is rooted in temptation and associated with evil, is there any real justification for that which is not in some part selfish. "i come with knives and agony to love you" if that isn't the chosen ones to a T in their overall reasoning for even considering a deal with lolth. and as much as that may be rooted in care, and wanting to be strong and powerful enough to protect the people they care about, it is a painful way to love when you really choose that path once and for all.

2. into the spin - this one is based on "slow climb but quick to descend" and i love the instrumentation as a part of the overall vibe, but it's about sowing the seed here. planting even a hint of consideration in accepting the power of the circlet and lolth's words is going to need time for the person to mull it over, but once it's on it is On baby.

3. million years - this is what i mean by All In Baby, and while it isn't the playlists narrative point of anyone actually accepting the power for good, it is a glimpse intended to shake things up after an 8 minute slow start with the first two songs, and this is all about lolth who is a Chaotic Evil entity, who is a reckless and hauntingly destructive force <3

4. home - "everything you made will end up broken" i think this song to fy'ra rai is more of an omen, of everything that she cannot fix but wants to, knowing that she cannot make choices for the group and seeing the potential path they could wind up on and knowing that fundamentally if they go that way it is their decision no matter how much it will hurt her - for opal there is SOMETHING about the tone of this song that feels very much like her, and the complete lack of care it seems to have to rattle off mundane things to the intimate drama of the place, to omens, to demands/declarations i think it shows her personality well and how that pairs with a chaotic neutral entity being offered something like the power of the circlet

5. steady, steady - idk if this is necessarily everyone but the mix of you know when you're ready and i am ready to be the one, this is the song about taking the leap and grabbing for power and/or fy'ra rai and orym's feelings of diving in with them or resisting/leaving them

6. diggers - for lolth this is just the consistent "i've been waiting for you" in the bg which i found fun and disconcering but also i think this is the perfect party and perfect storm for her to convince someone to use the circlets power >:) - for dariax! it seems with what we know he doesn't really know that he is a divine soul sorcerer? unless that is a show he is putting up. still, i feel like him carrying the circlet is Very interesting as someone with a divine bloodline who is in a way being given/chosen for that type of power holding onto this artifact born from evil and perhaps being tempted by it & i think this song works as an interesting back and forth for him with the strange double-entity grab for him in a way

7. athena - truly just a banger that fit the vibes wayyyy too well and started this whole thing, it's loud and reckless and out for blood babey <3 - i think i associate it with dorian mostly because i also associate it with lolth and he is the closest to really taking that leap in canon (and also probably the first one the go if we're following this playlist like a story with everyone/most everyone going corrupt, though it can be read truly infinite ways these are just compiled songs) i think it has a certain flair and appeal that just makes me Feel like it's the song that would play the second dorian puts the circlet on (which! fun fact! decreases your charisma by 2! have fun beloved bard!) - i think it's a very intense conversation

8. i’m not calling you a liar - okayokayokay it's orym thought time bc there are sooo many worlds and routes for orym here and i truly have no idea where he would even end up in this hypothetical. do i think that orym loves these guys and wants to protect them? yes. do i think that he may genuinely take the pain of loving them and keep his morals by walking away and/or turning on them if they all go evil? maybe. do i think he also might love them enough to throw that away? maybe. in a party of all chaotic neutrals besides him without fy'ra rai he is surprisingly the wild card here. while they have each other and no one else, he has the teachings and wisdom of the voice of the tempest and a moral compass that does not align with theirs at all. so, something has to give! dorian's slide into chaotic neutral was natural, but i think orym would be giving up Much More of himself to let himself slide from neutral good to chaotic neutral. i have no answers only sad, sad hypotehtical questions and scenarios so i will just, leave you with "and i love you so much, i'm gonna let you kill me." - this song also comes here before the storm of the 3-5 because whatever way he goes i think orym sees it all happen before anyone else does.

9. grenadine - Do Not Tell Me You Couldn't Hear villainous opal and dorian say the lines "what a big heart i have, i'll be your savior now. what a real catch i am, all the more to pull you down." - i see this song as playful but more genuine for dorian in terms of Truly Really believing any action he does to protect his friends is justified and good to him in his eyes whereas this is a very playful song for a villainous opal - they both give off this vibe strongly though (could see this one for fearne as well but don't have a good a justification)

10. black wave - helloooooo my favorite druid and warlock?? going apeshit with power? more so than they already are on a day-to-day basis (esp given episode 6 combat)? that's what this song is about. "stumbling down the street i swear to god you don't wanna test me" - i also think they both have an interesting question with "what do i believe?" with fearne being of the feywild which is a place of considerably different moral standing to exandria and opal being so young that she doesn't have the world figured out at all <3 terrifying and upsetting when you get into those questions on a corruption arc <3

11. you should see me in a crown - okay i knooooow this one is on the dorian playlist BUT vibes for my brutal babes <333 something about opal’s whole personality and fearne confronting the mirror self But eventually choosing/heading down the path anyway?? impeccable i love it there’s very few other thoughts here

12. control - OKAY not only does this song Fuck but i put it as party wide because i think it transitions nicely into the end of the mix which is more of the “questioning this decision after going all in but not being able to turn back/was it all worth it in the end?” part - i mostly love the “though i like the idea of providence... i’m in love with control” repeated because! i think the circlet is very interesting in that it has been iterated many times over that though it has connections to lolth and she has some claim/twisted abilities with it, it IS just a power source. so, the idea of going all in and accepting this power is an incredibly interesting dilemma of “who’s in charge here? did you really put it on/would you have without these dreams and lolth’s influence? are you really in control?” i think this song really represents that admission/delusion of control in this situation.

13. plenty - okay this song in any context is just my Feywild/Faerie Vibe song so i think this trails back to my feelings about fearne leaning into that different set of fey morals along a corruption arc, and as for dariax i think this is about abundance! following through that mixture of divine power source and chaotic evil god origin over dariax and his chaotic history of vast and varied experiences in emon, i think this very much befits a corrupt version of him.

14. dangerous - this song makes me insane, and the first reason i put it on the mix was the “the dead are true believers. rest assured. we are all believers” really just made me think of a terrible and cinematic moment of them discovering the circlet with the dead aboard the ship ESP in the context of this playlist’s narrative where that was the point they were destined to claim its power and go through their corruption arc - “how does it feel to be your own deceiver?” is the main reason and feeling as for why i made this a dorian song as well in line with “don’t worry i would do anything for my friends.” bc i personally find dorian’s corruption arc to be disillusioned with his own intentions and takes a lot of convincing himself that taking this power for his friends is noble in the scope of this group’s collective morals and self-interest in keeping each other safe and prosperous so <3

15. hollow - woowee dariax corruption, at least in this scope, i think is very frightening to me in that i think he’s going full maximalist, abundant, greedy, impulsive chaotic evil if we’re realllly leaning into a villain arc but still many of those things if we’re just going “this group is the only thing that matters and i’ll do anything for them no matter the cost” - i also think this song has a tone of resentment towards this? apprehension a bit? recognizing that this is how the person singing is but not entirely enjoying or feeling justified in it? as impulsive as dariax is, i think he cares A Lot, and is even a character i could see pulling a reverse dorian and going chaotic good in a different story than we’re in? “so simple when i was younger” and “i’d be a dancer of a different tune” really give me angsty dariax vibes in the height of his corruption arc

16. bad dreams - “don't you worry about your bad dreams cause I'm not in them. don't you worry about what change brings cause you can't stop it.” WOOF i don’t know that this one really needs to be explained but it’s the climax and the descent all in one of the party/corrupted individual being too far gone in their decision to step back or be saved. i think the tone of the song lends itself well to a mixture of uncaring but also giving some question to if they regret it or not based on the narration of the crowd against them.

#cheep cheep #ask #jadeandquartzes #this is ridiculously long i just <333 get so lost in the playlist sauce <333 all the time <333 #if you read all of this i am kissing you on the cheek <3 #spider ment #spider tw

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hanawrites404 · 4 years ago

Text

Wynne's Birthday Diary - William Hillenberg

"Wynne stop daydreaming and wash the berries. We don't have all day" I felt a nudge on my shoulder laden with flour. This disturbed the train of my thoughts which annoyed me a bit.

"M-My apologies. I was just..... pondering about something" I dusted my shoulder and continued rinsing the fruits with water.

"Oh yeah? What were you thinking of?" Portia asked me back. She had a teasing tone to her voice while I just rolled my eyes. Ugh, she really wasn't believing me, was she?

"It's nothing......really.......well........" I looked around for a second, trying to find a topic to talk about before Portia could press my spacing out further. And after a couple of seconds, I finally found two idiotic birds to snarl on outside.

"Ugh yare yare dawa" I scoffed as I stared out the window.

"What's the matter now?" Portia asked.

"Look at Ilya outside. Seems like Pepi is not going let go of his leg, is she??" I remarked as I watched the red-haired himbo trying to shake the innocent feline off his pillar limb that he falls on the grass during the struggle, still screeching like a monkey let loose.

I just sighed and shook my head after seeing the nonsense ruckus out. I was definitely tired of such a shit.

"Such a baka he is. Fucking scared of a cat"

"Pfff looks like Pepi is having fun. Too much fun" Portia laughed as she cut the blueberries into definite circles.

"True. Ugh but look at Erik now. Panicking as always" I scoffed again. And like I implied, Erik (@sylph-dreams) was trying to get Pepi away from Julian's leg and also shouting pleads to her. Seriously just why am I dating such idiots and how did I end up like this??

"Then why don't you go and help them, Ms. Whiny?" Portia nudged me hard enough to send me stumbling.

"Fine. Whatever" I rolled my eyes again and left the kitchen to both of the morons outside.

"Now now, would you two stop freaking out and calm down for a bit? You are creating a mess which I definitely won't tolerate, for your kind information" I crossed my arms as I glared at both of them.

After I came, Pepi instantly let go of Julian's leg and jumped off it before going inside the house and meowing like nothing happened. Her fellow feline Esther, who was watching the tantrum from the corner, too joined Pepi inside, not caring about the two.

"I-I am sorry Wynne. But she wasn't letting Ilya go!" Erik rubbed his neck from shame.

"You could have solved the matter in a cooperative way than panicking and making the situation difficult than ever Erik. Have some decency on the grounds" I scolded him sternly.

"I'm sorry......I won't do it again" he looked down, ashamed of his previous behavior.

I sighed and spoke to him in a bit more soft way this time.

"It's alright. Just keep it in mind to not mess up again, Ok? Same with you Ilya" I glared at Julian next.

"Y-Yes ma'am" he replied, his face red from embarrassment.

"Right. Now get in" I pointed behind me with my thumb, still glaring at both of them, and they quickly went inside the house by my command and without objecting with me.

I watched both of them from the corner of my eye and sighed once they were out of sight.

"Just what will I do with both of them....." I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples with my fingers.

"Wynne!" I heard someone calling my name from the front of me. And by the call, I shifted my eyes up to the person who called me.

And I found out that the person was none other than the birthday boy.

"O-Oh! William!" I walked quickly over to him. He was not looking so tired as usual. Looks like he was relieved from work early.

"There you are. I was looking for you. You and Esther weren't at the shop so I got worried" he told me.

"But I did leave a note that we both would be at Portia's cottage" I replied him back.

"You mean *this* note" he handed me the paper on which I had written.

in Japanese.........

"Oh fuck......I am so sorry!" I facepalmed hard.

"Do you even know how many dictionaries it took me to find the meaning of what you have written??" He crossed his arms. He was clearly annoyed.

"Gosh I am so sorry William. I was in such a hurry that I forgot to write it in English" I replied from frustration while he just sighed.

"Just don't do it again Pipsqueak. Japanese is a pain in the ass for me. We have been dating for more than a year. You should have known this" he walked away to the cottage.

"ugh I told you I was sorry. What is your problem?" I pouted and crossed my own arms, following him.

"Yeah yeah. Like I said, don't repeat it. I forgive you" he replied without turning to me as he opened the door of the house.

And as quick as she can, Portia lunged upon him and hugged him tight.

"W-Whoa! What the??" William stumbled back a bit.

"Happy birthday Will!!" She literally shouted from joy as she smiled brightly at him.

"O-Oh! Thanks Pasha! I didn't know you would remember it" He smiled nervously at her, and hugged her back lightly.

"Are you kidding me?? Of course I would remember!! You are my friend!" She punched his shoulder playfully.

"Oww. Thanks again Pasha" he smiled more, letting go of her and rubbing where she had hit him.

As soon as Will thought that he was finally free of any more hugs, Erik attacked him with his own tight embrace.

"Happy birthday My Dearest Pal!!" He was literally lifting him up with his strong hug that it made me giggle.

"Oh Gods! T-Thanks Erik. Sorry but, can you please keep me down now?" He was chuckling in between his words.

"Oh! Sorry!! Got too excited over here haha!!" Erik then let him down gently and grinned at him with a thumbs-up.

"Well. I will not lift you up but-" Julian gently hugs him and kisses both of his cheeks tenderly which made the brunet blush.

"Here. That should be enough for making birthday boy flustered" he smirked at him and winked.

"Gosh Ilya......" William blushed more and looked away. Gosh he looked so adorable that way. Like a kitten receiving the affection that was out of his expectations.

"Come on. Let's cut the cake now. I believe we should not waste any more time. Babe must be hungry you know" I approached William and hugged his arm close while facing the others.

"Oh yeah why not! I will go and bring it" As soon as I heard Erik say it, I quickly grabbed him from the back of his shirt.

"Wynne let me goooooo" he whined as he attempted to get away but I literally had my nails dug onto his fabric.

"I can't, sorry and also not so sorry. Pasha, you go and bring it" I ordered her.

After listening to the quicksand incident that happened with him when he was a kid made me not want to risk it at all.

"Sure! Right on it" Portia nodded and went to get the cake we both had made together for William.

I sighed and finally let Erik go before pushing William to the dining table and settling him down on the chair.

I then gave him a small kiss on the cheek before he giggled and patted my head.

"There there Pipsqueak" He rolled the strands of my hair around his fingers.

"Today is a special day. I gotta spoil you, you know" I whispered in his ear.

"I know Wynne. I won't resist. Don't worry" he lowly purred against me while rubbing his cheek on my nose. It was his natural incorrigible habit to purr like a cat, which I of course didn't mind. I find it rather adorable and arousing.

"Here is the mighty caaaaaaaake~" Portia sung her way through the halls from the kitchen to place it in front of William.

"Oh! It’s a Blueberry cake! How wonderful!!" William exclaimed from joy as his hazel eyes shone from excitement. It aroused a giggle from all of us, because it's very rare to see William so happy like this. But we all were of course glad so.

"Correct Dear. Only for you" I kissed William's cheek again, and this time he kissed me back on the corner of my lips, making me blush.

"Thank you Cornflower. I really appreciate it" he smiled at me.

I in reply just chuckled and bumped my forehead lightly with his as an acceptance of his compliment, which made him purr again.

"Alright you two lovecats, let's not let the candle burn away" Portia laughed.

This made us both snap away from each other and look away, still blushing, while Portia and others continued to laugh at us.

"H-Hey, stop. I missed him!" I pouted, my cheeks were still hot.

"Yeah yeah. I swear if I see you both sleep with each other tonight, I won't be surprised" Pasha joked while shrugging.

"Pasha!!!" Both Will and I yelled from embarrassment. Julian and Erik both wheezed and laughed from our reactions which made us even more flustered.

The fact that they both had started to sing 'Wynne and William sitting on tree' was making me literally lose my shit and want to bury them six feet alive.

"What? I am saying the truth" she smirked and wiggled her eyebrows, especially at me.

"N-No....it's not like that at all" I covered my mouth and let my cheeks have a massive blood rush.

"Y-Yeah.....she is right......We don't do that" William supported my statement, his blush was still on his face.

"Whatever. Now go on and cut the cake. We won't tease you anymore" Portia reassured us and the two boys had stopped laughing like hyenas after hearing her.

"Ugh finally!" I backed away from William to give him some space. Will then took the knife in his hand and as he was about to cut it, Erik interrupted him.

"make a wish first! It's important!" He reminded him.

"U-Ugh but, Erik. It doesn't matter. My wish will never come true. Even on my birthday" William protested.

"But it's a tradition! You cannot just ruin that!!" Erik didn't give up on his justification.

"Ugggggh. Fine" William rolled his eyes before closing them, and taking his time to think for his wish. Erik from satisfaction crossed his arms and smiled in triumph.

And when he was done, he opened his eyes and bent forward to blow the candle. He was about as close as the moon and earth from blowing the fire on the wax stick..........

But then they came..........

"Well how do you do, fellow humans??" The horned creature walked inside the cottage after they literally opened the door without touching it. A cool and fast gush of wind accompanied their menacing and chaotic aura also spreading it everywhere around.

Julian was shivering the whole time as he hugged me close, while Pasha and Erik were indifferent but intimated of their presence.

And William..........

"Q-Quaestor!! Is something wrong??" William stood up and looked at the doctor in front of him.

"Oh there is nothing to worry about My Dear. I just came here to wish my favourite lovely novice a happy being born day!" They had their usual crooked smile on their sharp mouth as they looked directly at William, who was now very red from fluster.

"I-I-I......T-Thank you so much Quaestor. I-It's really a pleasure hearing it from you. And the fact that you came here solely to wish me......it is really making me happy!!" Will beamed.

"Hehehehe! Anything for you My Lovely~ And I even bought a gift for you~" They sang happily.

William gasped from anticipation and I could literally see sparks in his eyes. Gosh he was just so obsessed with them that I could not help but roll my eyes from annoyance and a teeny meeny bit of jealousy.

"Oh gosh I can't wait! Wynne come on. Let's cut the cake and move to the presents fast!" William shook me by my shoulder.

"Ok Ok!! Jeez. Chill out Will! And Valdemar, what the hell took you so long?? I thought I told you to come at the exact time, didn't I?" I placed my hands on my hips and glared at them.

"Oh my apologies Sweetheart. I had some........ business to be taken care of. I didn't know that it would take me a lot of time" Valdemar excused themselves.

"Whatever. Come inside please" I ordered them.

"With pleasure, sweet cheeks" they grinned wider and came inside, the door shutting off with a slam by itself making Julian jump on his feet.

"I better not ask what they were doing this whole time" Ilya talked to himself as he shivered and rubbed his forearms.

"Yare Yare" I rolled my eyes again and sighed.

"Alright everyone! Attention over here! The birthday boy is going to cut his cake!" Erik announced while adding a comical and dramatic tune to it.

"Jesus. Nice try Erik" I giggled between my speech.

"Hehe. Thanks! I had been practicing this for the past week" he rubbed his neck and grinned with a blush while I shook my head, still chuckling.

I then placed my hand gently on William's shoulder to give him some assurance. Will touched my hand with his, gave me a smile, and then looked forward. After he was done wishing, he blew the candle.

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday to you~~

Happy birthday to Dear William~~

Happy birthday to you~!!! ❣️❣️❣️❣️

There was nothing but joy and happiness in the room. Even though a literal demon was present at the party, it didn't curtain the delightful ambiance. A big hats off and thanks so much to Valdemar for not putting any crazy shit during the present time and dinner. Honestly.

After the cake had been cut, me and Pasha served everyone a piece. William of course loved it because it was made be none other than me✨. Julian and Erik liked it.......too much, that they demanded for more but I had to deny them because I had to save it for me and Portia.

And Valdemar did eat some of the cake saying that it was interesting how it tasted sweet and sour and creamy, and that it reminded of the taste of the flesh of an old angry lady they ate years ago.

Hearing this fact, Julian had almost died from choking on a fucking blueberry...........

And Erik almost broke down crying from seeing Jules losing his life because of a small fruit..............

But anyways, after both of them had calmed down. We moved onto the phase William had been bubbling with excitement for the past half an hour. And it was presents.

Erik went first with his present of a carmine red woolen scarf and beanie cap for him. William when wore it looked very cute and handsome in it that I couldn't help but call him Red Riding Hood.

And just like the name, he had really turned red from face after the compliment.........how adorable of him.

Next was Pasha who have him a handmade cat charm which looked like Esther. And also that was the first time I heard William purring the loudest that my heart was running marathons. Was it because it was arousing me a lot or it was hella loud for my eardrums, I will never know.

After that it was me and I gifted him with big baskets of blueberries right from my village. They were grown by me and my father and there were about 8 of such baskets full of love for him.

I am going to be real honest here but a soft spot on my neck was hurting and swollen red from how he had bitten me hard after the party for the berries.

Anyways, moving onto Julian, he had gifted William with brand-new sets of surgical knives. From the shine and the look of it, it was quite expensive-looking. I wonder how did he afford it. But aside that, William was of course delighted from his gift that it urged him to kiss the redhead doctor right on the lips, which turned both of them into cherries and left Pasha and Erik in awe while Valdemar just chuckled.

And me........well I just wanted to erase myself from existence. Nothing new here. hahahaha!!!!

And last but not the least, on no no of course not. How can they ever be the least huh?

Because THIS LITERAL DEATH DEMON GIFTED WILLIAM WITH A FUCKING BEATING LIVE HUMAN HEART!!!!! I DON’T KNOW HOW IN THE WORLD WAS IT POSSIBLE BUT YES WHAT I AM WRITING IS ALL TRUE!!!!!

And guess what.......

He adored it!!!!!!!

Yes......he loved it so much that he it got him meowing from 'orgasm' loudly, scaring the hell out of Julian as always. Ugh was there just for once a time where Ilya wasn't scared?? I bet none!

Anyways, back to the birthday boy, he was so overwhelmed and overjoyed that tears of joy were leaking from his hazel eyes. This of course got me worried to the most but when I got to know that the tears was not of pain and sadness but of happiness, I deadpanned, but make that times thousand plus 💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢💢.

But but but, if we ignore the bizarre parts of the birthday party (which are a lot) for the best boy ever, it was very very enjoyable and memorable. Valdemar had their own type of enjoyment participating in a human's activity, Julian, Pasha, Erik and I were satisfied with our work and effort. And William, the moon of our party, was happy and grateful to all of us. Just what we all wanted.

Though this party was not the one I had in my expectations and perfect according to me, I will of course never ever forget it. Whether it be the best or the worst thing about it. It would always be in my heart just like how William Hillenberg is.

Deep inside, safe and too good to be forgettable,

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

Note

Is buying the new Harry Potter game supporting transphobes because I've been seeing a lot of that on twitter? Not playing it. Pirating is fine, but actually paying for it.

Hi, anon!

I’ve seen a lot of the same and had initially thought to post my thoughts on the issue… before I got a very angry ask condemning me for a post where I admitted that I thought the game looked great and was excited to play it. I can no longer link to that post because I deleted it: a late night, impulsive decision made in an effort to try and protect myself from further flaming. Thus, I considered ignoring this ask under the same justification… before realizing that it might not matter in the long run. The Harry Potter: Legacy trailer has been out for just a few days and already I have gotten that furious ask, been told off by a friend for mentioning the trailer, and was questioned (antagonistically) about why I had added a Harry Potter related book to my Goodreads list. They’re small and potentially coincidental anecdotes, but it feels as if any engagement with Harry Potter is slowly coming under scrutiny, not just the (supposed—more on that below) crime of purchasing the new game. Given that I will always engage with Harry Potter related media, if there’s any chance such subtle criticism will continue regardless of whether I make the “right” choice to boycott the game or not, I might as well explain my position. Especially for someone who asked politely! Thanks for that 💜.

Which leads to the disclaimer: Any anon hate will be unceremoniously deleted. This is a complicated issue and I intend to write about it as such. I ask that any readers go into this post with good faith and a willingness to acknowledge that this situation isn’t as black and white as they may prefer it to be. If that’s not something you can emotionally handle—which is 100% fine. Some subjects we’re simply not inclined to debate—or if you’re just looking to get in a cheap shot, please hit the back button.

Right. Introduction done. Now here’s the tl;dr: saying things like “Buying this game is inherently selfish/transphobic” isn’t the hot take people want it to be. Is boycotting Legacy one (very small—we’ll get to that too) way of showing support for the trans community? Yes. Is buying the game proof that you’re a selfish transphobe? No. This isn’t a bad SAT question. Legacy boycotters are to trans supporters as Legacy buyers are to ___? The argument that someone is selfish for buying the game is basically that you are choosing a non-essential video game over the respect and lives of trans individuals, but the logic breaks down when we acknowledge that purchasing a game has no real life impact on a trans individual’s safety, support, etc.

“But Clyde, you’re giving Rowling money. She is then using that money to support anti-trans organizations. Thus, you have actively put more harm into the world.” Have I? I’m not going to get into whether/how much/what kind of money Rowling is receiving from this project because the fact is we don’t know and we’ll likely never know. Suffice to say, she probably will get some portion of any $60/$70 purchase. The real question is whether those sales have any meaningful impact. Reputable information on Rowling’s net worth is hard to come by, but it seems to be somewhere between 600 million and 1 billion pounds. Or, to put it another way: a fuck ton. And money keeps rolling in from a franchise that is so, so much bigger than a single video game. It literally doesn’t matter how much money you might put in her pocket via Legacy because she’s already so goddamn rich she can do whatever she wants. If Rowling wants to give a million dollars to the heinous “charity” of her choice, she can. She will. You are not directly contributing to this horror because that money may as well already exist. Every person in the world could refuse to buy this game and she’d shrug, going about her disgusting life because it literally does not affect her in any meaningful way. You’re refusing to give the murderer a knife when they’re got direct access to a knife-making factory. Horrible as it is to hear, you can’t stop them from doing something horrific with that tool.

For me, this is the straw argument of the Harry Potter world. Not straw as in strawman, but literally straws. Remember how everyone was talking about plastic straws, swore off them, and subsequently deemed anyone who still used one to be selfish people who didn’t care about the environment? It didn’t matter if you had a certified “good” reason for using one (disability) or a “selfish” reason (carrying straws everywhere on the off chance you wanted a drink is a pain in the ass)—you’re a horrible person who wants the planet to die. Same deal here. If you can swear off straws, great! Do what tiny bit of good you can. But if you can’t or even don’t want to give them up, the reality is that your “selfishness” doesn’t make a significant difference in the world. The amount of plastic corporations are pouring into the ocean makes your actions inconsequential. It’s not like voting where every small, individual act adds up to a significant total. This is your lack up against others’ staggering abundance. It’s not adding a few drops of water until you have a full bucket, it’s trying to un-flood the boat with a teaspoon while someone else is spraying it with the hose. Have you, on the most technical level, made a difference by moving that teaspoon of water out of the boat? Yes. Is it a difference that holds any meaning in regards to the desired outcome? Not really. Now apply all that to Rowling. She is so phenomenally wealthy—with additional wealth coming in every day—that your purchase of Legacy is a teaspoon of water in her ocean of funds. It’s inconsequential.

“But Clyde, buying this game would support her and supporting her sends the message that what she believes is okay.” Exact same argument as above. JKR’s fame is so astronomical that no video-game boycott could ever make a dent in it. For every 100 people who swear off her work there are another 1,000 who continue to engage with both her writing and the writing related to her world because she is that prominent. Harry Potter is one of the largest franchises of all time, second only to things like Pokémon and Star Wars. This isn’t some indie creator who you can ignore into silence. The reality is that Rowling is here to stay and we have to take far more substantial acts to counteract that influence.

Even more importantly, buying the game is not evidence that you support her views and the black and white belief that it does is an easy distraction from those harder “How do we improve the lives of trans people?” questions. I started compiling a list of stories with problematic authors only to realize the number of incredibly popular texts with awful histories attached to them unnecessarily increased the length of an already long post. Everything from Game of Thrones to Dr. Seuss—if you love it, chances are one of the authors involved has a history of misogyny, racism, homophobia, etc. Which I don’t say as a way of excusing these authors, nor as a way to silence the justified and necessary call outs on their work. Rather, I bring this up to acknowledge that engaging with these stories cannot be concrete evidence for how you view the minority group in question. The reasons for consuming these stories are incalculable and at the end of the day no one needs a “correct” reason for that consumption (my teacher forced me to read the racist book, I only watched the homophobic TV show so I could call out how horrible it was, etc.) If fiction were an indicator of our real life beliefs we’d all be the most horrifying creatures imaginable. I may be severely uncomfortable with the queer baiting in Supernatural, but if a friend says they bought the DVD collection my response is not, “How dare you support those creators. You’re homophobic.” In the same way, someone purchasing Legacy should not generate the response, “How dare you support her. You’re transphobic.” There’s a miles’ worth of pitfalls in connecting the statements “You purchased a game based on the world created by a transphobic author” and “You yourself are transphobic.”

So if buying Legacy does not add additional harm to the trans community from a financial perspective, and it doesn’t make a dent in Rowling’s platform, and playing a game is not evidence of your feelings towards the group the author hates… what are we left with? “But Clyde, it’s the principal of the thing. I don’t want to support a TERF” and that is an excellent argument. Your morals. Your ethics. What you can stomach having done or not done. But the “your” is incredibly important there. People need to understand that this is their own line in the sand and that if someone else’s line is different, that doesn’t mean they’re automatically a worse person than you. For example, I have made the choice not to eat at Chick-Fil-A. Not because I believe that me not giving them $3.75 for a sandwich will make a difference in their influence on the world, but because it makes a difference to me. It helps me sleep at night. So if not purchasing Legacy helps you sleep at night? That’s a fantastic reason not to buy it. But the flipside is that if someone else does purchase it that is not a reliable reflection of their morals, no more than I think my friends are homophobic for grabbing lunch at Chick-Fil-A now and then. Sometimes you just want a sandwich.

“But Clyde, why would you want to buy it? Rowling is such a shit-stain I don’t understand how anyone can stomach supporting her—whether that support has an impact or not. Maybe someone eats at Chick-Fil-A because it’s close to them and they’re too busy to go elsewhere, or it’s all they can afford, or they don’t know how homophobic they are. There are lots of reasons to explain something like that. But you’re not ignorant to Rowling’s problem and there’s no scenario where you have to play this game, let alone spend money on it. So why?”

The reality is that I will likely be buying Legacy, second-hand if I can, but new if it comes to that, so I’ll give some of my personal answers here, in descending order of presumed selfishness:

5. Part of my work involves studying video games/Harry Potter and as a researcher of popular culture, my career depends on keeping up with major releases: good and bad. I often engage with stories I wholeheartedly disagree with for academic purposes, like Fifty Shades of Gray.

4. I find the “Just pirate it!” solution to be flawed. I’ve spent the last four months struggling to get my laptop fixed and I currently have no income to buy another if it were to suddenly develop a larger problem. I am not going to risk my $2,000 lifeline on an illegal download, no matter how safe and easy the Internet insists it is.

3. We’ve been told that Rowling has not been involved in Legacy in any significant manner and I do want to support Portkey. No, not just financially because I know many others have insisted that everyone good has already been paid. Game companies still need to sell games. That’s why they exist. There’s a possibility that a company with just two mobile games under its belt will be in trouble if this completely flops. Is my purchase going to make or break things? No. Same reality as whether it will put new, influential money in Rowling’s pocket to do horrific things with. But I’d like to help a company that looks as if they put a lot of heart and energy into a game only to get hit with some real shit circumstances outside of their control. Even if they’re not impacted financially or career-wise… art is meant to be consumed. I know if I wrote a Harry Potter fic and everyone boycotted it because they want nothing to do with Rowling anymore, I’d be devastated. Sometimes, you can’t separate supporting the good people from supporting the bad. Not in a media landscape where thousands of people are involved in singular projects.

2. I’m invested in reclaiming excellent works created by horrible authors. That’s fandom! We don’t know much about Legacy yet—this is pure, unsubstantiated speculation—but this new story could be a step forward from Rowling’s books, giving us some of the respect for minority groups that she failed at. That’s the sort of work I want to promote because Harry Potter as a concept is great and I think it’s worth transforming it for our own needs and desires. The reality is that as long as Rowling is alive she’ll benefit from licensed material, but if that material can start taking her world in better directions? I want to support that too.

1. I literally just want to play it. That’s it. That’s my big justification. I think it looks phenomenal and I was itching to get my hands on it the second the trailer dropped. And you know what? I’m not in a good place right now to deny myself things I enjoy. I don’t need to tell anyone that 2020 has been an absolute horror show, but for me certain things have made it a horror show with a cherry on top. Not a lot gets me excited right now because we’re living in the worst fucking timeline, so when I find something that makes me feel positive emotions for a hot second I want to hang onto it. I have no desire to set aside that spark of happiness in a traumatic world because people on the Internet think it makes me selfish. Maybe it does, but I’m willing to let myself be a bit selfish right now.

Which circles back to this issue of equating buying a game with active harm towards the trans community. It honestly worries me because this is a very, very easy way to avoid the harder, messier activism that will actually help the queer community. When someone says things like, “You’re choosing a stupid video game over trans lives” that activism is performative. Not only—as demonstrated above—is purchasing a game not a threat to trans lives or ignoring the game a way of protecting trans lives, it also gives people an incredibly easy out while still seeming ‘woke.’ Not all people. Maybe not even a significant portion of people, but enough people to be worrisome. “I’m not purchasing that game,” some people post and then that’s it. That’s all they do, yet they feel like they’ve done their duty when in fact they’ve made no active difference in the world. Are you donating to trans charities? Are you speaking up for your trans friends when someone accosts them? Are you circulating media by trans authors? Are you educating your family about trans issues? Are you listening to trans individuals and continually trying to educate yourself? These are the things that make a difference, not shaming others for buying a game.

All of this is not meant to be an argument that people shouldn’t be absolutely revolted by Rowling’s beliefs (they should) and that this revulsion can’t take the form of rejecting this game wholeheartedly. This isn’t even meant to be an argument that you shouldn’t encourage others to boycott because though the financial impact may be negligible, the emotional impact for you is very real. I 100% support anyone who wants to chuck this game into the trash and never talk about it again—for any reason. All this is meant to argue is that people shouldn’t judge others based on whether they purchase this game (with a side argument that we can’t limit our activism to that shaming). That’s their decision and this decision, significantly, does not add any real harm to the world. Your fellow Harry Potter fan is not the enemy here. We as a community should not be turning our visceral on one another. Turn it on Rowling. She’s the TERF, not the individual who, for whatever reason, decided they wanted to play the game only tangentially related to her.

If Twitter and Tumblr are any indication, I can imagine the sort of responses this post may generate: “That’s a whole lot of talk to try and convince us you’re not a transphobe :/ ” For those of you who are determined to simply things to that extent, there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind. Please re-read the disclaimer and consider whether yelling at me over anon will benefit the trans community. For those of you who are still here, I do legitimately want us to think critically about the kinds of activism we’re engaging in, how performative it might be, whether it harms the community in any way, and (most significantly) whether it’s actually moving us towards a safe, respective world for trans people to live in. Personally, I don’t think telling Harry Potter fans that they’re transphobic for buying Legacy will generate any good in this world, for them or for the trans community.

At the end of the day only you can decide whether you can stomach buying this game or not. Decide that for yourself, but make that decision knowing that there’s no wrong answer here.

#harry potter #mymetas #Anonymous

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countessofbiscuit · 5 years ago

Note

For the ask thing: N, T, W for tcw :)

ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ

N: Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom.

An appreciation for how massive the GAR really is — even if you subscribe to the ridiculously low-balled canonical size of the army, Fives has no reason to be chummy with everyone, ffs. If Anakin and Obi-Wan weren’t attached at the hip, Rex and Cody would hardly ever lay eyes on each other because there is such a disparity in rank (which should indicate a wildly different brief, but lol, this is TCW, where a marshal commander leads from the trenches and a mere captain has a seat at the strategy table). Obviously, this is just a personal gripe: I don’t actually care how people choose to approach the GAR in their stories, this is all about having fun … *I* just have more fun reading fics that are somewhat grounded in realities.

Mating cycles/heats — idk it just seems to me that this fandom with a plethora of alien species to play with doesn’t explore reproductive diversity and weirdness enough.

Tolerance of clonecest (or whatever the hell you wanna call it, I use that term as shorthand; whether or not clone-on-clone maps onto IRL incest taboos is an essay for another day) — it’s just … it’s interesting to me that folks are more squicked by the possibility that two identical walking war crimes may frot because they have no one else and find some small measure of comfort in each other than, idk, the brutal realities of their lives where death, mutilation, and maiming are omnipresent — and this pervasive idea that clones are the Goodest Bois just out there wearing flower crowns and frying only droids all day makes me : \ This isn’t an exhortation for people to just ‘get over’ their squicks, but I do believe in examining them.

T: Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Headcanon: Cody is not a born-again Mando nor does he have any time for whatever watered-down Mandalorian bullshit filtered down from the Spec Ops wing.

Question this headcanon first sought to answer: Why doesn’t Cody wear a kama?

Id-scratching Justification: He loves this thighs.

Plausible Justification: He likes his legs to be unencumbered for roundhouse kicks.

Solid Justification I’ve adopted from kaasknot: He earned his advanced-recon stripes in ARF not ARC school.

My Meta Justification: The line clones do not adopt Mandalorian culture or language wholesale.

I can’t even qualify this with “call me a RepComm snob, but …” because there’s even LESS foundation for the clones-are-vode idea in the new canon. From where would they have imbibed it? Outside the brief nod to Fenn Rau’s pilot instructor days on Kamino, new canon has not given us any reason to believe the line clones had Mandalorian trainers. And even if you discount new canon’s Jango-is-not-a-Mandalorian heresy, Kamino would not be at pains to emphasize their products’ connection to a culture so perennially at odds with their client (the Jedi/Republic).

Upon deployment, really almost anything goes; but to say that clone culture wouldn’t hold up pretty firm in the face of other galactic cultures is a little demeaning, and however much people absorb in their search for identity, why would the clones have immediately glomped onto Mandalorian concepts? Why not Corellian? Or Kuatian? Or Chandrillan? Or hells, even Force traditions? Someone may have pointed out to the odd clone, “hey, y’all were made in the image of a notorious Mandalorian!” and set some wheels turning, and sure, Boil was resourceful enough to do his own homework and decide that he quite liked the precepts of a certain group of Mandalorian paramilitary extremists and wanted to slap their sigil on his helmet, but there’d be such a diversity of osmotic experiences in an army of millions/billions spread out across a galaxy that I simply cannot buy the idea that the clones all woke up one fine day thinking of themselves as Mando or Mando-adjacent.

Setting aside new canon, which I find deathly dull, I prefer RepComm, with its assertion that many of the RCs are born-again Mandos after their sergeants (indeed, the Republic almost has a fifth-columnist problem in Spec Ops with the True Mando influence of the Nulls and certain Alpha ARCs), but the average line trooper view of that mentality is “y'all are a fucking cult.”

The line troops would identify firstly as brothers and soldiers of the Republic, and they would’ve had close to 0 touchpoints with the Prime Clone. In fact, many might resent the connection, especially deeper into deployment (“What has Mandalore ever done for me? They're a bunch of loose cannons — if they aren't refusing to lend a hand, they're actively leading Sep militias for pay. Fuck the lot of them,” etc. etc.). It would have required a shitton of cultural and linguistic leakage from the Spec Ops wing for the bulk of the line troopers to know even more than a handful of words in Mando’a at the time of Geonosis. (I can believe swear words would’ve been adopted hella fast, if only to fill a vacuum.)

But again, the army is not a monolith, and I am fully on board with the idea that some Alpha ARCs made it their mission to teach Vode An to every unit they came across and the sheer epicness made it wildly popular, and that they spread certain words and concepts (vod, shebs, di’kut, Manda, oya, kara, kandosii, etc.) like a rash. Or a company or two got teamed with a Mando sergeant and two squads of RCs for a month and were belting out “Coruscant'a aden mhi” by the end of it. Or a division found itself with an Alpha-ARC XO when their Jedi General's CC got popped two weeks after Geonosis and Alpha-89 wouldn’t rest until every trooper knew Dha Werda Verda by heart and backwards. Just … show me the work — why should I accept that Bly speaks fluent Mando’a in the bedroom? WHY? Invest me in your clone-culture worldbuilding!

ANYWAY, to bring this back round to my die-on-this-hill headcanon about Cody … he doesn’t like kamas or feel compelled to wear one. Setting aside fun Cody-was-an-Alpha-trained-spec-ops-intern-for-a-month-and-hated-it backstories aside, I just don’t think the dude had the time of day for all that the Manda are watching us warrior brethren, hold your buy’ce high vode, one tribe one dream osik. His identity is wrapped up in overseeing the Third Army and serving as General Kenobi’s right-hand man; on balance (if we’re trying to be realistic, see: above), Cody interacts more with natborn officers and Jedi and fellow CCs than your average ground pounder trooper, and Obi-Wan and Republic officers certainly aren’t going to wax lyrical about Mandalore anytime soon. Obviously, Marshal Fucking Commander Cody is well within his rights to read whatever he wants and talk to whomever he wants and adopt whatever beliefs and language he wants. He has all the resources at this fingertips and clearance that would probably make a lot of natborn admins in REPINT weep. But I don’t personally see him going Mando, though it amuses him to watch Rex try :p The minute Cody earnestly starts using Mando’a in a fic, I’m usually out.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Hmm. I spent a good hour’s walk thinking about this and came up blank. Hate is a strong word anyway, and if it’s well-written, I can be sold on anything. But, I can almost guarantee I will never click on ABO unless it’s been recc’d or written by a friend. Not because I have any moral objection, just that it doesn’t interest me and good characterization is often lost to the mandatory ABO dynamics.

… on the flip side, I will ALWAYS click on Fuck-or-Die :D

#felt like essaying i guess #commander cody #clone troopers #GAR #clonecest #asks

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cryptidshuffle · 4 years ago

Text

the less we say about it the better - chp 1

ao3

Rating: Teen Fandom: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware Relationships: Tommy Coolatta & Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman (pre relationship) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death(its benrey dont worry hes ok), meta about deaths and respawns, arguing about the rules of uno, gay pining, Mutual Pining, fellas is it gay to comfort ur friend who u love and are both boys?, also fair warning it'll eventually be a poly ship with benrey, Autistic Character, Autistic Tommy, ADHD Gordon, everyone is gay and trans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: “after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental break downs.” they are trying to recover after black mesa, but recovery is hard. especially when one of you is still dead

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

They had been out of Black Mesa for a few weeks now. It was difficult trying to acclimate to life after the incident, but they were all making it work.

The science team had gotten together for some sort of game night, something cathartic about being around others who share the same trauma. Anyways, snacks and Uno was just as chaotic as one would imagine with this group of chucklefucks, with competitive tensions high on the last round of the night.

“You can’t stack the draw 4 cards, Gordon,” Bubby argued, smacking Gordon’s hand just as he placed the card.

“Says who?”

“It’s literally against the fucking rules of the game,” Bubby said back.

Tommy agreed with, “It is in the official rules, Mr. Freeman, they- Mattel confirmed it on Twitter.”

“But that’s dumb!” Gordon argued back, “I’ve always played where you can stack those, why change that now?"

Bubby retorted, “Well maybe you’ve always been playing wrong, huh? Ever thought about that, smartass?”

Dr. Coomer chimed in with, “Well on the official page for Uno (card game) on Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit, it states that

The following official house rules are suggested in the Uno rulebook, to alter the game:

Progressive Uno: If a draw card is played, and the following player has the same card, they can play that card and "stack" the penalty, which adds to the current penalty and passes it to the following player.[4](Although a +4 cannot be stacked on a +2, or vice versa.)[6] This house rule is so commonly used that there was widespread Twitter surprise in 2019 when Mattel stated that stacking was not part of the standard rules of Uno.[6]”

“Well, there you have it,” Gordon exclaims, interrupting Coomer’s Wikipedia infodump, “Just because it’s a house rule doesn’t mean it’s not a legitimate way of playing."

“What if I don’t want to play with that rule, that’s fuckin stupid,” Bubby grumbles.

“Jesus ok, I'll play a different card, happy?” Gordon says dejectedly, taking back his controversial draw 4 card for a more innocuous one. “It’s your turn anyways.”

Bubby throws down his last card onto the pile. “I win fuckers!!!! Ahahahahaha!"

“You wouldn’t have won if you let me stack the fucking cards,” Gordon said as he threw his losing card pile onto the coffee table.

“Don’t fret Gordon! Bubby is just extremely good at card games,” Dr. Coomer replied.

“You're forgetting I’m a goddamn genius, that extends to my sick-ass Uno skills,” Bubby bragged.

Gordon chuckled, watching the two older scientists get up to leave, and watching Tommy remain, quietly cleaning up the uno deck into neat piles to place in its box.

“Well gentlemen, it’s been fun, though I think it’s time Bubby and I better get going!” Dr. Coomer said.

“No problem, don’t want you two to be late for your old man early-bird breakfast at Golden Corral tomorrow!” Gordon teased.

“Shut the fuck- I’ll kick your ass,” said Bubby.

“Hello Gord- Actually our old man breakfast is not until Saturday! It’s the one day a week I let loose and unhinge my jaws at the buffet like a Burmese Python!” said Dr. Coomer as Bubby grabs his coat and keys.

“That sounds absolutely horrifying,” Gordon laughs.

“It really is,” says Bubby. “Well, see you later asshole,” Bubby says, herding himself and Coomer out the front door.

“See you guys later,” Gordon says.

“Goodbye, Gordon! Goodbye, Tommy,” Coomer also says, before they leave Gordon’s apartment.

Tommy had yet to get up to leave, he stayed sitting in his seat staring into space, and fiddling with the Uno card deck.

“Hey Tommy, you alright man?” he asked gently. At the mention of his name, he was shaken a bit out of his stupor.

“Y-yeah I'm fine Mr. Freeman, why do you ask?”

“I mean you were kinda just staring into space for a bit, and you didn’t say anything when Bubby and Coomer left.”

“Oh shit. Sorry about that, I’ll get out of your hair,” Tommy said, starting to move to leave.

Gordon placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Hey, if something’s bothering you, just know I’m here if you wanna talk about it,” Gordon comforted.

Tommy blushed slightly at the contact and nodded.

“Thank you. I-uh… I’ve just been thinking about things that happened back in Black Mesa and, you know,” he pauses to think for a bit, and sighs, “honestly I’ve been thinking a lot about Benrey.”

Just at the mention of him, Gordon felt his stomach drop with the weight of too many emotions.

“Yeah...I uh… I understand,” he responds with a sad sigh, “anything in particular you’re thinking about him?”

“I don’t know just kind of- Earlier I started thinking about how much he would enjoy game night. And then I started to miss him and realize that- that he’s not here. I feel guilty about killing him and upset at what he did. He was still my friend and I just- I want to know why he did what he did. I just want to understand,” Tommy said.

Gordon looked away as he thought about his own emotions regarding Benrey. He was undeniably angry with him, for getting him ambushed by the bootboys, for getting his arm cut off, frustrated with the constant taunting. Yet… he also felt guilty for some reason and he couldn’t quite place why. Gordon really didn’t want to feel guilty.

“Yeah…” Gordon sighed, “I'll be honest I do feel guilty about it too. I don’t know why because I feel like it should be justified since he did try to kill us. But there were times when him pestering me about my arm felt like… like sincere questioning? I still… I don’t know.”

“Yeah… I think-” Tommy cut himself off, staring at a fixed point in his vision, trying to decide whether or not to bring this up.

“I don’t think Benrey understood how human mortality worked.”

Well, that wasn’t what Gordon expected. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he was from Xen, Mr. Freeman, he wasn’t human. It was different for him. You remember he did die several times, but he came back eventually. He had to wait for his form to regenerate.”

“Wait-” this time Gordon cut Tommy off, “Oh shit, that wasn’t a joke? For some reason I just assumed his talking about respawns and shit was part of his Epic Gamer bit?”

“I mean it was a little but I think… there’s probably a reason Benrey attached himself to video games so much, yeah? He can see himself in the structure. Like, uh- something he can relate to.” Tommy says. “It doesn’t excuse what- what he did, but I feel like knowing why things happened makes- makes them more understandable.”

Gordon leaned back on the couch blown away by the revelation. In hindsight it wasn’t that surprising but it took him a few seconds to come to terms with the reality.

“Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess it does make a lot of sense. Wait though, I swear to god all of you have died at least once, but you guys aren’t from Xen?” Gordon said, now confused about the seeming metanarrative of the mortality of his friends.

“Yeah, but those were weird Black Mesa things, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, not elaborating any more than that.

Gordon waited a beat for Tommy to explain more but he said all he needed to.

“I will ask you more about that later, but I do not have the energy to unpack all that right now,” Gordon said with a gentle laugh.

“Wait, getting back on topic real quick, why couldn’t Benrey just... respawn now? Did we really get him that good?”

Tommy looked incredibly sad when Gordon said this, and he regretted it immediately. ‘Damn it Gordon, Tommy’s clearly upset about Benrey, you don’t gotta be an insensitive dick.’

“Well Mr. Freeman, that’s kinda why I’ve been thinking about him,” Tommy said, “I’m not sure. It shouldn’t have taken him this long to respawn. Depending on the amount of damage it takes longer but… It’s been a while and what if- What if he is back but he is mad at all of us and that’s why we haven’t seen him? Or what if it is taking a really long time because we hurt him a whole lot. Or what if we…”

Tommy got quiet for a few seconds, the silence in the room was deafening. For an instance Gordon felt as if making a sound would shatter the air like glass.

Tommy finally said with a whisper, voice thick with choking back tears, “What if we killed him for good? And I don’t- I never see him again?”

It honestly broke Gordon’s heart how distraught Tommy was. Pushing his own complicated Benrey feelings aside, he was gonna focus on Tommy here and now.

“…Tommy, is it ok if I hug you, man?” Gordon couldn’t think of the best way to comfort the other man with words, but physical comfort he could do.

Tommy looked a little surprised at this ask but nodded. Gordon leaned in to hug the other scientist and Tommy collapsed in his embrace, completely breaking down.

Gordon just sat there and held him as Tommy sobbed into his shoulder, trying to comfort the crying man by rubbing circles into his back.

Gordon’s brain processed the things Tommy had said. Was Benrey really gone? Why did he feel guilty about the idea of having killed Benrey, he was fine with the concept during the final boss fight on Xen but now… the thought made him feel… sad? Regretful? Even his seemingly rational justifications didn’t seem as clear at the moment, only thinking of his fonder memories with Benrey.

‘Fuck this,’ he thought as he felt his own tears well up, ‘this isn’t about me, I need to focus on being there for Tommy,’ pushing his own feelings to the back of his mind to be dealt with later.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough where his sobs turned into sniffles, and he started to pull away from the hug.

“S – sorry for having a – a breakdown on your- on your couch Mr. Freeman,” Tommy said, the post-crying mental fog making his stuttering more noticeable. Tommy didn’t really have the effort in him to care.

“Don’t worry about it, man, after everything we’ve been through we deserve a few mental breakdowns,” Gordon joked trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that was nothing, Mr. Freeman, in terms of mental breakdowns that was as mild as a first-grade pizza party in the eye of a hurricane,” Tommy compared in a way that made little sense to Gordon, yet ridiculous enough to cause the man to burst out laughing.

“Alright I’ll take your word for it,” Gordon said, still laughing.

“I’m serious Mr. Freeman, once you have a meltdown so intense that you accidentally teleport yourself to an inter-dimensional void, the rest is a cake walk at the school fair,” Tommy said.

“Waitwaitwait- teleport?” he leaned back to look at him in surprise, “Since when could you fuckin teleport!” Gordon asked caught off guard.

“You know, learned some things from my Dad,” Tommy said, again failing to further explain himself.

“…Well alright. Yeah that tracks.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment before responding with, “You know, Tommy, I want you to know I’m here for you if you need anyone to talk to. You were there for me when I was at my lowest in Black Mesa, and I wanna be that friend to you if you need it,” he said giving the other scientists hand a comforting squeeze.

Tommy smiled, “Thank you, that means a lot Mr. Freeman.”

“You know you can call me Gordon, you don’t have to be so formal all the time Dr. Coolatta,” he teased.

Tommy blushed, ‘dammit why did he have to be so cute?’

“Wow Mr. Fr – Gordon are you really gonna make fun of my doctorate that I worked very hard for,” Tommy teased back, still a bit sniffly from crying.

“Dude, I cannot imagine you in college for some reason, what was your doctorate even in” asked Gordon, semi-jokingly, but still a bit serious.

Tommy laughed a bit, wiping the remaining tears away with the back of his hand. “Bio-chemical engineering. Creating Sunkist was for my thesis project.” Normally Tommy would be more then willing to infodump about the topic but he found his energy to be draining fast.

“What the fuck, that’s cooler than mine was. Us nerds in the Theoretical Physics department didn’t do any crazy shit like that,” Gordon said.

“Bold of you to assume I was a nerd, G-Gordon. I was the craziest guy in the frat house,” Tommy said.

Gordon’s memory vaguely recalls Tommy’s insistence that he “do something crazy” when drinking Darnold’s Potion of Grow Gun Arm.

“You know what, yeah, surprisingly I can see that image vividly in my head,” Gordon said. “Real talk though…” he said changing the subject and putting his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “Are you- uh, ok? Like feeling better?”

Tommy was quiet for a second, eyes flickering down to look at his fidgeting hands in his lap, before replying with, “I’m ok. N-not great, I don’t think, but I will be.”

Gordon nodded. “Tommy, if there’s one nugget of wisdom that I have to share, it’s that healing takes time, things usually turn out to be ok in the end. No matter what’s going on with Benrey…it'll be alright, I’m sure.” Gordon patted his shoulder for emphasis, “not the best advice out there but it’s the best I can come up with straight off the dome. And I don’t wanna seem like I didn’t try to help you out."

Tommy laughed gently, “Thank you Mr. Fr- uh, thank you Gordon. You did help. Even if- if your advice was a bit cheesy.”

“Whatever man, you can’t blame me for trying,” Gordon laughed, playfully shoving Tommy where his hand had previously rested on the other man’s shoulder. Tommy laughed in return. He only noticed the warmth of Gordon’s touch once it was gone.

Tommy absentmindedly noticed the time on the wall clock in Gordon’s apartment. Jesus, 11:30? When did it get so late? The older scientist really hoped he wasn’t overstaying his welcome; While he would love to just stay here and joke around, he had already bothered Mr. Freeman enough and was already exhausted.

“I- I’m probably gonna head back home now, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Tommy said, standing up from his spot next to Gordon.

Gordon nodded. He had the passing thought of offering for Tommy to stay but… maybe that was a step too far. ‘Tommy probably wants his space,’ Gordon rationalized to himself.

He nodded, “Alright, don’t let me keep you,” he said, getting up as well to help Tommy gather his belongings. Which, to be honest Tommy didn’t bring much but some snacks for the group, but Gordon just needed an excuse to do anything.

Gordon walked Tommy to the front door of his apartment, like the good host he was, opening the door for him.

“Thanks for coming over Tommy,” he said.

Tommy nodded. “Thank- thank you again for letting me talk about Benrey, I know it was kinda rough there at the end, but if you ever need to talk about anything… I'm here for you as well.”

Gordon smiled, “Thank you Tommy, I'll keep that in mind.”

Tommy smiled in return, “Have a good night G-Gordon,” he said turning to head to his car.

“Goodnight Tommy.” Gordon turns to head back inside, but before he does, he can’t resist one more jab.

“Thought you could teleport?” he calls out teasingly.

Tommy flips him off, which causes Gordon to laugh harder. “Gives me a headache,” Tommy called back, trying and failing keep a straight face.

Gordon laughs as he waves a final goodbye, turning back inside and closing the door after Tommy waves as well. His thoughts race as he gets ready for bed, trying to ignore his fluttering heartbeat as he lays down for the night.

Tommy shuffles his thoughts in his head as he drives home. The emotional rollercoaster of his already draining social interaction meter from the science team, his Benrey guilt, and his small crush on Gordon was just too much for one day. His hands clench and unclench the steering wheel, looking forward to collapsing in bed for the night, hoping his dad won’t notice he'd been crying.

Somewhere, in an interdimensional void far away from this reality, someone begins to shift awake.

#fanfic #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #freelatta

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ifyouwantsalseo · 5 years ago

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@hetaliamondaychallenge July 6: “No matter where I go, my heart will always be yours”

Category: Fanfic.

Pair: SpAus/AuSpa

Words: 2.619.

Genre: Historical, Shounen-ai.

Note(s): this occurs just before the Spanish Sucession War (1701-1714) started, in which France and Austria were the main oponents.

1700

- What!? Some Frenchmen in the border of Castile don’t allow us to enter!?

Austria yelled to the informer that had just arrived from a few meters in front. The poor boy lowered his head as his master continued yelling and calling him “fool”.

That had actually been happening lately. The Austrian nation had been in a quite a bitter mood since the latest Spanish king had passed away and the fresh news from Versailles had arrived to Vienne.

Everyone in the imperial palace of Hofburg had heard the wrathful yell of the country when he read that France was trying to take over the newly vacant Spanish throne. A moments later, the most ominous and choleric piano melody had filled the palace, just as Austria’s mood became worse.

How could that dirty French try to take the place that was obviously a Habsburg property!? Austria immediately hastened the preparation for the travel to Spain that has been preparing for weeks –he obviously had thought about visiting his husband after such a loss-, and immediately departed with a bunch of his henchman.

He had took a ship from the Habsburg lands of Toscana and had landed in Barcelona, and now was willing to pass from the Spanish Aragonese provinces to the Castillian ones, in order to reach to Madrid. He had expected getting into Madrid in a couple of days at most, but suddenly the found out that some Frenchmen blocked the way. He frowned just by imagining the reason behind that.

Getting out of the carriage, he proudly stepped in the direction of the previously said Frenchmen while his henchmen tried to suffocate his wrath telling him to relax. He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

- Who in the hell are you, you shameless gits!? We are in a royal amendment, and this is a direct offense to the Austrian crown!

The French looked at each other’s eyes a little bit intimidated by this aristocrat with German accent, but they didn’t freed the way. One of them, anyway, looked at Austria and replied–. We are just following the orders, sir. We aren’t allowed to let any suspicious foreigner group get in.

Austria struggled. – Oh, gosh! This is ridiculous! –he complained. After a moment of saying some unintelligible things in German, he turned back and, even if he already knew the answer, questioned-. Okay, well. Who has issued the order? –and a moment later, one of them said it.

- It has been directly commanded from son eminence la France.

It was only for a moment, but Austria could have sworn that he noticed how the lenses of his glasses cracked. His eye trembled from the rising stream of pent-up anger and he gritted his teeth.

How dare he!

- I, as the sovereign country of the Austrian Empire, command to have an audience with him right now! Tell him that I’m waiting for him to come or directly get me there now.

After knowing about his true identity the men went white and one of the immediately offered Austria a horse, implying that he would be the only one that could pass. Austria didn’t mind it at all.

In the end that was only between him and France.

{ . . . }

A three or four hours later he found himself entering in a powerful castle well defended and guarded. Even if he was all exhausted from the travel, he did still maintain his distinctive attitude and typical high chin when he entered the castle. He listened at how his presence was released to someone –even if he could easily know to who- a few moments before breaking into the main room.

He had never hated so much that presumptuous Frenchie face before this time. France’s eyes had an ironic sparkle, as if he were mocking him with his eyes.

- What an unexpected visit, mon ami. What could I do for you?

- Don’t give me that shit, you fool! –he couldn’t do anything but explode-. What do you think you’re doing in Spanish territory? –France’s eyes twinkled.

- You know pretty well the reason why, little one.

Austria wandered, snorting. – Rubbish. The reasons that defend the putting of a French king on the Spanish throne are only the ravings of a dying man; they don’t make any real justification.

- A dying man that happened to be the latest king. –whispered, with a victorious grin-. Get over it, Austria. Charles preferred Philip and the Bourbons over your old fashioned Habsburgs. And I bet Spain will corroborate it when I am accepted in his court and his be-

- Don’t you dare to say another obscenity like that about my spouse! I swear to God I’m not going to go easy on you if you start a war over him.

Right after hearing that, France stopped at stared at the fire of the hearth. Austria stopped too, confused.

France suddenly looked very strong, very serious and very threatening. He remained quiet for a long moment, scratching the surface of the wooden table next to him.

Then, he spoke.

- I was willing to speak about that with you, my old friend. –he said, and suddenly he directed his blue eyed serious gaze to him-. I was wondering if you could consider giving up on him without a war, Austria.

And then the time froze.

- ... What?

France didn’t look surprised about the obvious shock on the other’s face. he went on speaking. – I’m asking you to not declare war against me or Spain when the change of dynasty becomes official. –he said, suddenly looking even more dark and dangerous-. Spain has always been one of my objectives, plus now he is much more attractive as a country, you know? He has the complete monopoly of the silver and gold trade, and he has extended his influence and power all over the Indies. Just think about it. Spain has always been my target just by being himself, he currently has the most powerful empire of the world and, now, the throne, the place that has been occupied by you for nearly 200 years, is reachable. I cannot let this divine situation scape, and I'm more than willing to sacrifice anything to get it. What’s more, I’m eager to do it.

The other was in complete amazement, completely gone even if he continued hearing the ominous talk of this son of disgrace that apparently was willing to die in order of stealing his husband. He couldn’t think a response. He had gone blank.

Say no to war? Let the affair pass and only look when another country –and another man- takes which has been their belonging, Habsburg’s, since the beginning?

He couldn’t find a way of expressing his emerging anger and hatred that didn’t imply him strangulating the blonde. – You bastard!! –he cried, facing him with the hellfire in his eyes-. You can’t be serious.

France did not react. He just sighed and moved to take a coup of Jerez that was on the table. He looked so relaxed Austria couldn’t help but hate him more and more.

But when he was going to go and insult him more, the sound of the great entry doors opening broke the atmosphere. A servant appeared, looking between the direction of the door and France with a jittery look on his face. France didn’t understand immediately, just like him, but was all cleared up when a cozy voice sounded:

- France, are you there? I’ve been told you’ve come to Spain but I didn’t expec-

And suddenly the brunette head of the host country appeared, stopping his way as shocked as them when he saw them.

He needed from a few seconds to understand the situation before laughing in a friendly way.

- Oh, isn’t this Austria? What a nice surprise! I didn’t know you two were this close. –he smiled, getting close to his best friend since childhood and his husband.

Austria came out of his stupor just to worthily say. – I don’t recall having any kind of relation with such a vulgar man. –while crossing his arms. France came back right after, uncomfortably laughing while smiling at his beloved friend.

- Oh, Spain. I didn’t expect you too…

- Of course I had to come! I’m the host here and I didn’t even know you were here till a few hours ago…!

Austria palmed his face. His idiotic mate didn’t even know that this coming from a rival country was supposed to be considered something as an invasion. Only someone as oblivious as Spain could still consider himself a simple host after this.

Anyway, Spain continued rambling. - ... It’s been so sudden that I’ve come right after knowing it. Just imagine: Romano has started insulting and shouting to me calling me untrue and bastard for leaving him alone so suddenly! He was simply sooo cute…!

Then he carelessly sat next to both of them, like if he didn’t notice the tense situation. France looked like if he were having a hard time and Austria felt complicated. He suddenly couldn’t think right, and he thought that this might have been due to the handsome young man that sat right there in front of him.

He hadn’t seen Spain since months, maybe a complete year ago. This moment, anyway, had caught him off guard. He hadn’t been emotionally ready to face him this early, in this situation, with the unwanted French presence as a plus.

They had been married exactly for 184 years.

Still, Austria managed to fell in love with him more and more every time they met. His heart still exploded like a maiden’s.

A few moments later, the friendly chat carried by the Spaniard died and Spain looked at them, suddenly quite serious.

He looked concerned. – What’s wrong?

France was going to say something, but Austria didn’t want to hear more of his poisonous talk. He felt sick just standing there, in front of the supposed enemy, pretending that the phantom of the incoming war wasn’t there. So he just spoke faster. – I just feel a little bit tired this night. –he said, looking right to the blue eyed man-. I would like to retire to my rooms, if it is not a nuisance, of course.

France maintained a neutral gesture, as if he didn't want anyone to read him. – Of course it isn’t a nuisance, you’re my invité after all. I’ll ask my servants to prepare two room-

- Oh! Don’t bother, France. It’ll be only one room. –interrupted Spain, with a lovely smile. Both, Austria and France froze a little, even if the following was just natural-. We’re married after all.

The Austrian’s cheeks painted in pale pink and the French’s face got tense. It was a brief silence before the French said. - D’accord, I’ll get it ready in a moment. –and commanded it to his servants.

A few moments later, when the other two were being lead to his rooms, France sat and drank again. He was burning with jealously, but couldn’t do anything yet.

- Just a little more, France... -he said to himself.

{ . . . }

Like that, Austria and Spain end up preparing to sleep in the same room. They were evolved in a rough silence, something floating in the air that they weren’t ready to reach. Austria knew that Spain wasn’t actually an idiot. He had known the worst part of him too. So he knew he wasn’t completely oblivious right now either.

At first, the marriage was just a simple political alliance and didn’t meant anything but security to them. Austria knew since the beginning that Spain was going to be loyal to their dynasty, because that was the kind of guy he was –just the opposite of men like France or Scotland-. So Austria had taken their marriage as something not particularly bad; he had also been in a good relationship with him, too.

As told before, Austria still managed to fell in love with this guy over and over again, because even if dangerous, he was the loveliest and most charming person he had had the pleasure to meet before.

But eventually, knowing each other, playing music together, protecting each other’s back during the wars with France, England or the United Provinces of the Netherlands… Eventually the mutual care became stronger and they end up falling for each other and making love. Like a couple. Like mates.

The ring on their fingers had never meant so much before.

- Austria, talk to me.

He raised his head in the direction of the sweet voice calling his name. The green eyes greeting him were clearly tired till the deepest of his soul. Austria couldn’t handle it.

- What are you going to do?

The sudden question didn’t surprise Spain. They stared at each other for a long moment before he formed an answer.

- Now, for the first time in my life, I’m not going to do anything as an individual. –he sentenced.

Austria blinked. – What do you mean? –and the brunette sighed, passing a hand through his own hair.

He sounded restless. – I mean that my person, the personification of Spain, is going to stay aside this time.

The Austrian held his breath, feeling the sensation of betrayal running through his veins. – I can’t believe it. Are you demented!? He’s trying to destroy our dynasty and our…!

- It’s just much complicated than that! –the sudden explosion of voice came out like a thunder. Austria stared impressed at his husband, who was holding to his ring while staring at the fire of the candle. He seemed in pain-. This is not just going to be a war in Europe. Is also going to be a civil war for me. Castilians prefer the French and the people from Aragon and Catalonia want to defend the Habsburgs. Now the king has died my government is just a mess and I can’t afford to mind personal matters like my personal feelings. I can’t choose between my people so I can’t choose any of you either. That’s why I’m going to stay out of this.

The other listened to everything with a complicated look in his face.

He was seeing it coming, the departure. The Goodbye. He was having a hunch, or some kind of sensation that was so incredibly painful that was destroying him from the insides.

But after focusing his violet eyes in the commonly cheerful face of his man, he knew it wasn’t the time for being a pathetic cry-baby. He was the Austrian Empire after all, and this was his all beloved companion in the top of the world. He smiled at the resolution.

He took out his glasses and took the Spanish hand.

- I understood. Don’t you worry anymore.

Green eyes looked back at him, with a soft smile.

- I didn’t even remember how beautiful you were, Austria. –he said reaching his hand and kissing the palm-. I suppose I haven’t been fulfilling my duty as your partner lately and nearly forgot that I’m entirely yours.

Austria’s heart puffed, while a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

- It’s okay if you understand it. –whispered, while taking the opportunity to return the previous display of affection in the other’s hand. Spain stroked his cheek in return, and Austria let it be.

They stayed like this for a long moment, and, then, Spain murmured something.

“No matter where I go, my heart will always be yours” –he had said.

After that, they made love countless times. Roughly, lovely, relaxed and passionately. They knew all about each other, and Austria hoped France could have heard the proof of their mutual love from somewhere in the castle.

When they finished, and Spain finally fell asleep, Austria still stayed awake trying to burn in his memory the scene in front of him.

He undoubtedly knew this wasn’t probably happening again in a while. But he didn’t mind at all. Spain had said he would always be true. That gave him the strength of a full army.

Anyway, then, he had only one thing in mind when he was passing his fingers through his brown hair.

He was going to destroy that condemned Frenchman and take back what belonged to him.

#hetaliamondaychallenge #spaus #auspa #habsburg #habsburg pair #austria x spain #frain #france x spain #aph spain #aph austria #hetalia fanfic #aph france #hetalia

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jj-ktae · 5 years ago

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Millennials - Part 7 -

Title: Millennials Genre: Fluff, romance Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x You Summary: Life is made of stages and each of them is a hard push on the back, forcing you to forge ahead. You’re facing your biggest crisis, and then there’s him, who lives from day to day. Of course he does, he is just a kid. Words: 3964 Warning: Small age difference. Yugyeom x Noona Reader.

- Teaser - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 -

- Part 7 -

Yugyeom doesn’t like how down he feels right now. He has been sulking for the whole night even since he came back home and doesn’t seem to know how to deal with it. He had a horrible evening and ran away from his friends, no able to keep his cool anymore.

He barely heard them calling him, didn’t even hear his phone ringing and most certainly couldn’t notice how shaky he was.  It’s a new feeling.

He feels played with. Like someone actually lied to him and he was too stupid to believe them. He knows he is gullible, he knows he trusts too easily, but he cannot deal with the pain of being hurt by someone who is so dear to him.

Out of everyone, he thought you wouldn’t be able to do that.

And somehow he can’t believe it. He can’t believe you would meet with another guy behind his back. Yugyeom doesn’t think he is jealous and he isn’t. If the guy is just a friend, then it’s fine by him.

This is how he ends up feeling miserable.

Yugyeom doesn’t know how to address the issue. Jinyoung tells him to meet with you and ask for justifications but he knows himself too much to do that. He isn’t the type to get mad and say big words and he will probably chicken out even though he did nothing wrong.

His friends always make fun of him for avoiding conflicts.

Instead, he avoids you at all cost. He doesn’t answer your texts and ignores the phone calls. The device doesn’t show your name often though and Yugyeom feels even more depressed.

It’s like you don’t care that he is ignoring you.

Yugyeom even ditches work, coming up with a shitty excuse about exams who aren’t going to happen. Speaking of which, he fails big time while trying to come up with a choreography and end up being yelled at by one of his senior for being so uninspired.

Great. Life is great.

At the same time, he wants to know what you’re doing. Was that guy someone important? Are you enjoying life with that not so handsome jerk? No, he should stop caring. You played with him and he will move on.

But he always ends up groaning, his motive vanishing like dust when he thinks about how deep his feelings are.

He hates himself.

You don’t know how you end up without any news from Yugyeom. The latter seems to be rather busy because he doesn’t even answer your texts. Maybe you shouldn’t push it. Maybe Yugyeom hates clingy girls.

Still, you’re getting curious. Maybe he is sick? What if he hurt himself while dancing?

You had planned for a date at your place. You wanted to get to know him better and do something chill where you could have exchanged a bit more.

At least that’s what Naya’s co-worker had told you to do.

He had been full of advices and very understanding of your inner conflict, he who is also dating a younger person. It made you feel better to know that your feelings were natural.

“Oh wait, you’ve been to the place where he practices, right? Go there!” Naya yells over the phone while you’re cooking, one night. “It’s unusual, though. Did you do something wrong?” She is now scolding, her voice turning higher all of a sudden.

You sigh, stopping midway in your vegetable cutting session. “I didn’t do anything. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“This is the problem. You’ve just started a relationship and it feels like you’re still single. Why are you acting like you don’t like your boyfriend?”

Your head goes down in frustration and you’re glad your friend isn’t next to you, right now. “I do like him! We’ve talked about this already. I agreed to meet with your co-worker because you said he’d help me see things differently and he did but please, give me some time. He isn’t even answering my calls right now.”

It’s annoying. How do you end up being the horrible one when you clearly did nothing? Of course Yugyeom doesn’t deserve this, but you warned him, you told him and even Naya that you were not good enough for a relationship but still, they forced this.

“I told you he didn’t deserve to be put in such misery. Stop putting the blame on me.”

Naya chuckles, her voice dying before she continues. “You’re taking the easy way out. Just fucking try harder; the kid will agree to everything you say, he is freaking in love with you! You can’t offer only this and claim you can’t do better. I think you don’t care about his age. You’re just frightened because he is serious and forcing you to become someone better.”

Damn her and her tendency to read psychological magazines.

“Why are we even talking about this? He probably is too busy and you’re here telling me it’s MY FAULT he isn’t answering my calls.” That girl must be crazy.

“Remember what we told you. That boy is younger but that doesn’t mean his feelings are invalid. Just like my colleague’s girlfriend, he will end up being very hurt if you don’t at least reassure him. You’re not the only one doubting so even though it might have nothing to do with you, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to find out what’s happening. I know you want to so stop being so damn stubborn.” She cuts the line before you can object and it tears a sigh out of your mouth.

Suddenly you’re not hungry anymore.

The days after that go slowly. You send another message and it stays unanswered. You try calling but it’s another failure. Maybe Naya is right, again. There’s something wrong with Yugyeom. It keeps you up even, thinking about what could have hurt him. There could be many reasons, but nothing comes to you. So, against better judgement, you follow your friend’s advice and aim for the place Yugyeom took you to when he needed to practice.

The walk there is endless and making you feel anxious. You quickly understand it’s the probability of a mad Yugyeom that puts you on a trans. What will you do if he refuses to talk to you and breaks up? You don’t even know if he will be there and you’re already freaking out. Great.

Part of you hopes he is just busy and will hug you and blush like he oh so typically does. Then there’s excitement. Excitement because you missed him, as hard as it is to believe.

So as you open the building’s door, you conclude you really need to feel him against you because it’s been too long.

There are many people there. All of them are young boys, sweaty from head to toe and moving around. You walk past bodies, all of them intimidating as they stare at you.

You peek behind the door, eyes meeting with guys dancing in sync.

Yugyeom is in the front, concentrated yet looking bothered as he seems to be struggling.

“Are you looking for someone?”

You jump when you hear the voice right next to your ear. Your head turns, eyes falling on another guy who tries to peek in hopes to get which one of the boys you’re coming for.

“I’m Yugyeom’s-” wait, how do you introduce yourself? You’re not sure he even spoke about you to anyone. What if he is too embarrassed to talk about his talentless girlfriend? What if you’re not even his girlfriend anymore?

The guy quickly catches up. “Yugyeom’s girlfriend? Please save us all, he’s been a pain in the ass recently. I was about to beat him up for always using the main room to practice. Just take him out of here.”

You blink at him, not getting what the guy means but understanding Yugyeom has been going through hard times.

“Do you know if it’s going to take long?” Your eyes go back to the room where Yugyeom is still busy dancing, his face blank.

The guy smirks, relief painting his tiny face. “He is done-” the guy opens the door before you can protest. “yah, Yugyeom-ah, get out of here, someone is asking for you.”

You freeze behind the guy, head barely tilted to meet Yugyeom’s face, both shocked and confused.

“Hyung, I’m still-” He tries, his voice tiny because everyone is whistling at the revelation of his love-life.

“You’re done. I swear if you don’t leave right now-” He turns around and stops before he starts cursing when he sees your face. “He will be out in a minute. You can wait in the main hall.” His fake smile transforms into an annoyed face when he goes inside the room and he starts chasing the poor Yugyeom.

You walk back and decide to wait. Still as stressed as earlier.

Yugyeom is surprisingly quick you notice, because his sweaty body appears next to you before you can gather your thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” It’s the first time he speaks to you that way. No greetings, no physical contact.

“You haven’t been answering my calls or texts….” You try, conscious enough to preserve the distance between you and him.

Yugyeom nods, aware of that fact yet not explaining anything. It stays that way, both of you ignoring the loud music signalling more rehearsals are probably happening.

After a while, he licks his lips, eyes meeting yours uncertainly. “I don’t understand you.”

“What do you mean?” You subtly shiver, not liking Yugyeom’s tone at all because he sounds so depressed and it visibly hurts you more than you think it would.

“When I say I’m in love with you I al serious. I know you don’t take me seriously, but I wish you wouldn’t play with me. If you don’t want to be with me just say it.” He is calm, scary yet doesn’t even try to act mad.

He looks so damn dejected.

“I don’t get it…” You’re quite lost. You don’t remember saying or doing anything that would make him think you’re playing with him but apparently, you fucked up.

“You don’t have to go as far as lie to me so you can meet with another boy, noona. I’m old enough to understand you don’t feel the same way about me.” Yugyeom adds, eyes now looking at the ground because damn it, it hurts so much to say it so bluntly.

On the other side, you’re completely lost. Meet with another guy…? When did you ever-

Shit. Naya’s colleague. How did he even see you? Naya was there, too…

…But she left for a good thirty minutes for a phone call. Yugyeom probably saw you and thought you were cheating on him.

That explains a lot.

“You were in that bar?” Your mind can only say this much, your brain trying to come up with an explanation before Yugyeom thinks you’re cheating on him for real. “It’s not what you think it is, he is-”

Yugyeom shakes his head. “It’s fine. I understand. I knew it was going too well. I’m not mad at you, noona. I just wish you’d let me know before I get too attached.”

“No, for real, Gyeomie. It’s really not that big of a deal. I was out with Naya and her colleague. He is dating someone younger than him and Naya thought it’d be good if he could share his experience. You probably saw me right when Naya left because her parents called but I wasn’t on a date.” You justify yourself in a hurry, not even mad that he wouldn’t trust you but rather eager to let him know you care about him.

Yugyeom opens his mouth and closes it, disturbed and trying to assimilate your words.

You grab the chance to explain further. “I didn’t tell you because I knew I’d be getting pretty personal and I needed advices. If I told you I was meeting with friends you would have tagged along – and I have nothing against that- but I just- ah, this is messy. I’m sorry, Gyeomie.”

The latter looks up, doing his best not to be bothered by the way you’re calling him. “Advices?” he tries, his voice thicker with confidence as he feels a weight being lifted from his chest.

You nod, slowly. “Because of the way I treat you. I keep on acting like a lunatic bitch and I just, well, I guess I need to chill.”

“Did it work?” Yugyeom speaks fast, surprising you again.

“The advices? Yeah, kinda. There are still things I need to sort but it has to do with me more than you. I hope you believe me because I’d never be able to do this to you. Never.” Yugyeom gives you too much credit. No one will ever be interested in you.

“I believe you, noona.”

You smile at the nickname.

He waits, seems to be thinking, plays with his fingers, before stopping. “Still, I wish you had told me. I wish I was more involved in your life. Not in a way that would make you feel suffocated but…like a real boyfriend.”

You suppress a shiver, the word boyfriend stimulating your heart and penetrating warmth into your stomach.

“I’m sorry I hurt you again. I’ll do my best not to make you feel left out.” You admit, face turning into a pout and hoping he’d sense how honest you’re being.

He shrugs, mumbling about how you didn’t do it on purpose and straightens his back. He is waiting for you to continue.

“If you’re free tonight, we can watch a movie and order something to eat at my place. I mean, if you’re too exhausted that’s fine, too.” You propose, hopeful to the point of turning into a lost puppy unknowingly.

Yugyeom’s heart is about to burst at how soft you are.

“I’m always free for you, noona.”

On the way to your flat, you’re both silent. Yugyeom feels like dying because you’re the one who grabbed his hand when he got out earlier, freshly showered. You don’t seem bothered by it either and even your body is close to his. You’re relaxed, like you’re glad he is back in your life and Yugyeom feels like you finally understood his worries.

“What type of movie do you like the most?” You break the silence naturally, feeling shy yet energised by how good things turned out.

You’ll never admit how ecstatic you feel.

“I like lots of genres. Horror is fun, romance is cute, action is entertaining…how about you?”

“I watch horror movies then curse at how stupid I am because I’m all alone at home.” You laugh softly, remembering how you didn’t sleep the last time you watched that Chainsaw Massacre shit.

Yugyeom laughs loudly, finding you horribly cute for finally admitting your weakness and leaving some room for him to act like a boyfriend would.

“Next time, call me so I can protect you, noona.”

His voice dies with embarrassment and cheeks turn burning hot as he comes up with the cheesiest line ever but it doesn’t matter.  You’re as blushing as he is so it’s definitely worth it.

Once you both arrive, you quickly set up for a comedy. Both of you are too tired to focus on a deep or action scenario and hell no you don’t want to watch something scary.

Also, the mood sure is calling for something simple as you watch Yugyeom, wrapped in your fluffy blanket and waiting for you to bring the flyers so you can pick something to eat.

You let him pick the food while you look for something to watch and it’s peaceful, silent and cosy. You feel warmth as he shares a bit of the blanket with mischievous eyes and shows you the pizza he’d like to eat.  You don’t feel like eating pizza but you agree, smiling sweetly at how shiny his eyes are.

If Yugyeom wants you to eat dead crickets even, so be it.

You discover his quiet side. He is unmoving, almost scared to even brush against your body in a moment of overconfidence. You let him struggle, quietly amused when his face turns red during a heated scene.

The delivery boy saves you both as you hurry to open the door, hushing a protesting Yugyeom who desperately wants to pay again.

“It’s fine, Gyeomie. There,” You put his pizza on your little wooden table and open your own on your lap, “I can pay from time to time.”

You see him shake his head but soon enough his face transforms into pure bliss as he opens the pizza box.

“Thanks for the meal.” Is the last thing you hear before he starts stuffing his face with food, mumbling about how he needed food after so much dancing.

You finish before he does, feeling full and giving up after a few slices. You forget about the movie and set your eyes on his concentrated face as he eats though, orbs never leaving the screen and mouth greasy.

You wait until he is finished, suppressing a chuckle as you see the way his face becomes a mess of tomato sauce and cheese.

Yugyeom doesn’t notice how fondly you stare at his face. He even almost forgets about the situation because how come this comedy is so sad? Also, the puppy in it is so cute.

He ends up eating the whole pizza, his stomach too full and he finally turns around to thank you again.

But you’re looking at him and he suddenly feels so small.

“Are you okay?” He speaks, obviously surprised by your behaviour but mostly confused.

You chose not to answer, your hand going to his mouth to wipe the food off his face with a napkin. “You’re so clumsy when you eat.”

He freezes. Yugyeom doesn’t know what happens but he feels like throwing up. His insides churn deliciously and his heart starts hammering into his chest. He lives for your attention and can’t express how blessed he feels as you quietly wipe his dirty mouth, whispering about starving kids and stained clothes. Yugyeom lets you do your thing, his hand gripping the soft fabric of the blanket. His whole body is on alert, the proximity enough to make him crave for your lips.

Unconsciously he ends up staring at them, not missing how subtly your tongue peeks out to moist the reddish flesh. Your eyes find his when you’re done, the napkin now stained with what used to paint his beautiful face.

“All clean...” You trail off, hand slowly aiming for your lap but body paralysed by his radiant warmth. You go from his mouth to his eyes, deep and expectant.

You don’t want to escape. As much as you’d naturally let some distance under any other circumstances, you barely move. You stare back, even.

This is when you read it. The uncertainty in Yugyeom’s eyes. He looks like he is dying to get more proximity but is retraining his own body. It’s noticeable, how scared he looks. he experienced disappointment way too much already.

“Noona...” He whispers, eyelids fluttering close. He waits, inhales and relaxes. “Will you let me kiss you...?” His question takes you off-guard. You didn’t expect him to ask so bluntly, considering he doesn’t really need to ask but still, your heart speeds up uncontrollably in front of a needy Yugyeom. His hand reaches for your face to cup your cheek in silence, his lips itchy and face turning scarlet.

“Of course, Gyeomie.”

The answer sends him over the moon and back in a matter of seconds, his body moving before he can process what you just said. In his head it’s a whirlpool of feelings mixed with eagerness as his lips find yours.

You don’t try to move. You don’t even need to, for Yugyeom is making all the work fast, his nerves sending jolts of electricity inside his muscles. You end up pushed against his chest, legs parting until you’re straddling his broad body on your own couch.

He doesn’t let you part from him, his hands pushing you more and more against him as silence surrounds you. Only short sighs seem to ring into your ears, signalling you how much he enjoys the moment.

You answer every kiss, your own hands sliding skilfully into his hair to mess the brown locks playfully. Yugyeom feels your nails against his scalp and cannot help but shudder, his whole existence vanishing into a thousand stars and painting the sky - or at least this is how he feels right now.

He doesn’t know how to deal with the intimacy, doesn’t even believe it’s happening. You’re kissing him back. You’re sitting on is lap. You’re whining whenever he sucks on your lip.

Yugyeom freezes when he comes back on earth, chest against chest and slightly parts before he becomes too clingy.

“I..I..” He starts, glancing around the dim room and finding nothing to hide his eyes from yours. You tilt your head, lips red and swollen your eyes sparkling and not the least bothered by the situation.

You aren’t going to back off and it’s freaking him out.

“Are you okay...?” You whisper, air hurrying out of you as an attempt to hide the growing fear inside your chest.

What if Yugyeom regrets going this far? Of course he would, you can’t possibly think he’d have any type of desire toward such a freaking bitch who hurts him on a regular basis, it’s ridicu-

“I don’t know if...I really want you, noona. I want you and I don’t know if you want me. I want you to want me, too.” He chooses this moment to glance at you with timid eyes, face hot and biting his lips and you get it. You freaking understand.

You love Kim Yugyeom so damn much.

So naturally you don’t keep your mouth shut. This whole thing is too important for the both of you to ruin everything with clumsiness and there’s nothing you could say that would make the situation better than it actually is. You pick to keep quiet, leaning to offer more kisses, embarrassed yet feeling finally lucky for not making anyone run away from you.

And it’s quite the opposite if you ask Yugyeom. His arms hurriedly collect you again as you offer your mouth, body now relaxed and without any intention of rejecting him. He sticks to you even more, not the least annoyed by his growing desire and unfazed by how it shows dangerously against you.

You feel it and you take it surprisingly well. It doesn’t matter how long it has been, it doesn’t matter how rusty you feel, it’s doesn’t freaking matter if you don’t know what to do with yourself.

So you let go, you turn off your brain and focus on your fingertips, brushing the soft and tender skin of Yugyeom’s neck and earning a needy grunt.

It’s the best sound ever.

And indeed, Yugyeom does the same, focusing on instinct as he is now done testing waters. He touches back, body against the couch and legs lazily parted. He even hears you chuckle when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket and he almost tears it off his jeans to throw it in the living room.

You become brave even when Yugyeom start kissing your neck. He almost yelps when he feels your hands on his stomach and retaliates quickly, teeth softly nipping the skin and making you shudder.

You whisper sweetly and this is how he knows he will never have enough of you calling his name.

“I love you so freaking much, noona...”

It’s the last thing you hear before getting lost into his surprisingly skilled being.

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