#but yes there are tons of glaring issues about the game. but I’m not going to nitpick the one part that I think is cool

[cattysapien]

as much as I like to rag on totk I also disagree with people who call it a bad game

A rushed game? Yes. Poorly executed in a lot ways? Definitely. But it is still fun and overall pretty good. I only rag on it because I’m a fan of Zelda and I know it could have been much better. I feel like calling it a bad game is a bit excessive

[erodasfishtacos]

ST. PAUL

Please like, comment, recommend, reblog, and come talk to me if you enjoyed the piece.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a two days) 😌

warnings: smut, daddy kink, 18+

—

Harry loves being the center of attention.

It’s really no surprise at this point that he enjoys when tens of thousands of people are watching him perform.

He also secretly loves that people love his wife as well. He swore sometimes he thinks his wife is more popular than him during tour.

YN was didn’t come out from backstage to stand and watch the show right away like she usually did - she was working through some merch issues with Jeff.

Harry noticed that the fans were continuously looking back to where his wife would usually stand for the show.

Between one of the sets, Harry goes about ready some of the posters that fans have brought and he huffs out a faux affronted remark as he reads one out loud.

���I’m only here for your hot wife.”

He jokingly glares at the fan as the crowds laughs, “M’gonna have t’have a talk with security about these posters! Y’hitting on m’wife in front me! She’s not even out here, tough luck mate.”

Then he shimmies away as another song comes on.

A few minutes later, a sign pops up that says, “I want to taste YN’s watermelon sugar.”

Harry gives the person holding the sign a look of disbelief and shakes his head in disapproval at the poster before turning away.

“Should I text him?”

Harry reads from a fan’s board, he holds up his left hand and wriggles his ring finger that is donned in his wedding band, “Y’asking the wrong person, love. I’ve been locked down f’eleven years, don’t know much about the new age of dating!”

He goes on to say, “My only advice is if he’s playing games - don’t do it. Trash, trash, trash. Not for you.”

When YN finally arrives to her usual spot, everyone tries to get a glimpse from where they’re at. It was a thing, everyone wants to not only get a glimpse of Harry Styles’ wife but also her outfit.

There were hundreds of instagram accounts now dedicated to their matching tour outfits.

The short dress she was wearing was made of the same material and color as his shirt *** and she looked stunning as always.

The singer notices all of the attention dart to the side of the arena, where he also spots his beautiful wife smiling with Glenne as they go to their usual spot.

When She ends, Harry walks down the catwalk with a exaggerated pout on his face, giving his wife a pointed look, “I just want to remind everyone, this show’s about me! I’m quite the narcissist so I know m’wife is gorgeous but we’re here f’me!”

The crowd erupts in laughter and playful ‘boos’ as a dimply smile spreads on his face as he adjust his in-ears.

YN bites the inside of her lip, holding back her own giggles at her husband’s boyish antics before she joins along in the boos.

“Alright, alright, no booing me now,” Harry titters like the comedian he is, “Just remindin’ y’who this is all about. Me! But let’s give a round of applause to m’wife who deals with the narcissism on a daily basis!”

The arena does so, thousands of fans capturing their interaction on their phones for people to coo over later.

YN rolls her eyes, laughing at some Glenne says before and then Harry is starting his next song with a few glances over to her until they meet eyes and he blows her a kiss which she returns.

And then a poster pops up in the pit that Harry knows he has to snag - gets a brilliant idea so he asks the fan to pass it forward.

He props his mic back into its stand before turning the poster around and showing it to his wife on the side.

“Show us your tits, respectfully.”

YN flips him off with a giggle before teasing at the collar of her dress which makes Harry’s jaw drop dramatically and he gives her a surprised look before shaking his head. ***

“Don’t y’dare flash the goods! I’m just jokin’ around, this is a family show….” He pauses before prompting the crowd, “Or is it?”

As he performs Lights Up, YN steps forward to the barricade to call over one of the fan who is awestruck as she stumbles over to YN.

“Could I borrow your sign?” YN asks the fan - who was dressed in a sequined suit that looked amazing and she had to compliment her on that too.

“Uh…yeah. He-here,” The girl stutters nervously, passing over the posterboard with shaky hands at meeting YN.

She was sooooo pretty up close, smelled like chanel number five, and smiled warmly enough to make the fan feel comfort.

“Thanks, I’ll give it right back,” YN assures her, stepping back over to Glenne, they giggle together before YN holds it over her head.

“Choke Me Daddy.”

Harry spots it in a mere minute, reading it over and unable to hide the moody, dark expression that flashes across his face before he covers it up by looking elsewhere.

Just the reaction she wanted.

Harry stay away from that side of the stage for a little, YN knows it’s to prevent a very public boner from her behavior.

YN hands it back, agrees to take a few pictures with the girl and her friends before they go back to enjoy the concert.

-

The girl who lent her the sign goes on to make tiktoks about the meeting.

“She was super nice and giggly.”

“She let us take a ton of selfies.”

“When she held it up, Harry like instantly got pissed or turned on or something because he gave her this look and it was intense.”

“Harry was staring at her like the whole concert after she held up that sign.”

“It seemed like YN was purposefully ignoring his signals to make him even more annoyed.”

“Her ring was so pretty.”

“I couldn’t tell who was more attractive, Harry or YN, I think they’re literally the hottest couple alive.”

-

When the concert ends, Harry bolts off stage - waving and blowing kisses to his adoring fans before disappearing into the back.

YN is waiting patiently by the entry, where she usually was, her stomach was tight and bracing for her husband’s reaction.

She wanted to play.

They both knew it.

Hell, the whole arena had known she wanted it.

And to her absolute disappointment, Harry arrives back stage and pulls her into a tight hug. He pulls back gently to kiss her with his large palm cupping her face.

“Hi baby, m’exhuasted. I’ll shower at the hotel,” Harry rasps, peppering a few more soft kisses before intertwining their fingers.

YN has to hide her disappointment that it wasn’t Harry coming back stage, shoving her into his dressing room, and giving it to her hard for the sign she held up.

Nope, during the ride to the hotel, he was cuddly and like a puppy - whining until YN massaged his neck and allowed him to lay his head in her lap.

He doesn’t bring up the sign, just relaxes quietly until they get to the hotel and then just grabs her hand to lead her to their room.

YN tries to settle down the itchy arousal in her belly when Harry goes to shower.

She changes out of her dress into one of Harry’s shirts and goes about folding and organizing both of their suitcases.

After the shower stops, YN hears Harry moves around for a moment until he’s opening the bathroom door.

“Do you want to order room service? I’m star-“

She’s cut off when her husband’s hand reaches down and intertwines into her hair - gentle by firmly pulling her to stand by it and tugging her back into his hard chest.

“Harr-“

“I don’t think so, baby. I think s’daddy, yeah?” Harry hisses against the shell of her ear, “Do y’think I’d forget about y’holding up a sign that said choke me daddy?”

It’s easy for her to slip in a fuzzier, submissive state because she knows her husband will keep her safe and always take care of her.

“You showed that sign fir-“ YN begins to argue back but Harry pulls at her hair to silence her.

“Y’want t’argue or do you want t’be a good girl f’daddy?” Harry asks lowly, his voice threaten and void of any of his normal warmth, “I think ten is a good number, hm? Ten t’your arse?”

“But-“ YN loved to push him, she wanted those ten but she also liked to rile Harry up which was even better when he was adrenaline high from a show.

“Say ‘yes daddy’ or I’ll add five,” He warns, his voice had a delicious rasp from singing and he wraps his hand into her thong and rips it - making her yelp as the elastic snaps against her skin.

YN’s heart is pounding out of her chest, usually she was the one who took Harry by surprise - not the other way around.

Her skin was aching already from the brush burn of the fabric being torn from her sensitive skin, scalp pulsing from the tension on her hair.

“You were so obvious on stage, H. Once I held up that sign, your face gave everything away - that you’re so easy f’me - it’s embarrassing. I’ve been locked down for eleven years,” She imitates his accent in a bratty bite.

Harry snaps, nearly picking her up as he manhandles her over to the large hotel bed and she finds herself on her belly with Harry landing a hard slap to her right cheek.

“Y’think you’re s’fuckin’ cute? Don’t act like it doesn’t get y’soaked seeing all those fans cry f’me and I come home t’you,” He chuckles meanly, “And y’want to call me desperate? Look in the mirror, love.”

YN wriggles a bit but doesn’t have much time before the second and third hit with his rings still on - making it hurt even more.

“Count f’me, sweetheart,” Harry hums, thumbing open her cheeks to lean down and teasing lick her tighter entrance before letting go to land the fourth one.

“F-four,” She chokes out, feeling herself drip onto the sheets and her nipples tighten against the cotton fabric of the shirt she still has on.

“Four what.”

The air in the room is thick, humid as she mumbles against the pillows, “Four daddy.”

“Louder.”

“Four, s’four daddy,” YN moans, tacking on the fifth to her words when he lands on her left cheek and she can tell how sore she’ll be in the morning already.

“Gonna give me fifteen, baby? Or are y’done?” His voice is cautious, checking in to see where she’s at - if they add five more that means she really wants to play. If he stops at five, they both know that means she only wanted to be roughed up a little bit for the night.

“More, please.” YN gasps, shaking her bum in his face before it’s caught with the hardest hit yet and she yelps in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

After they reach fifteen, Harry is flipping her on her back and tugging her shirt off until her breasts spill out and he tugs roughly at a nipple.

“Daddy, please, please,” She whines, her thighs were damp and she was absolutely pulsating for his touch on her.

“I think I deserve an apology f’your behavior tonight,” He whispers against her puffy lips, his cock slipping against her mound lazily, “Desperate f’me even in front of tens of thousands of people. It’s quite cute, darling.”

“Fuck me, fuck me,” YN presses her lips to his eagerly, moaning when he slips between her folds and his tip bumps against her clit.

“Y’have no fuckin’ manners, pet. I think I’ve spoiled y’too much,” Harry admonishes with faux disappoint, pulling back until their centers aren’t touching and landing a smack to her mound.

Then he’s reaching down to thumb at her bud with a relentless pleasure but as soon as she starts to lift her hips into the feeling - he pulls away and tucks two fingers up inside her - repeats that quite a few times.

She felt like she was on fire, she needed him so badly that she wasn’t able to take much more of the teasing.

They usually played for longer, hours sometimes but on tour - it was hard to, both of them bone-tired and knowing they have to get up early and do it again tomorrow.

Harry knows his wife like the back of his hand, knows when she needs more and when she’s hit her limit for the night.

When he sees hot, fat tears spilling from the corner of her eyes, lips full and swollen, and she’s mewling, “Daddy.”

He knows she’s nearly at her limit, he slips inside her with no resistance and has to push for a moment because it feels that euphoric.

“Baby, fuck. Always feel s’fuckin’ good. This body was made f’me, yeah? S’addicitng, s’warm and tight,” Harry praises his wife, kissing her before tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth.

“S’for you, all of it. Ha-Daddy, I’m so close already, do it - c’mon,” She begs, legs wrapping around his narrow waist and pressing her heels into his bum.

They both know what she wants but he wants to hear her say it.

“C’mon, tell me. Say it and I’ll give it t’you,” He rumbles as he thrusts in with loud, smacking noises echoing through the room.

She blinks up at him with twinkling doe eyes, a small smirk on the side of her lips, as she says in a kittenish voice, “Choke me, daddy.”

And like that, his hand is collaring her throat and lightly pressing down until her breathe catches in her throat.

“Come f’me, m’desperate lil’ thing. All those people with those nasty signs and all I can think about it y’perfect cunt,” He murmurs in her ears, pressing just a bit more and then just like clockwork - she tenses and begins to come and he lightens his grip and releases when he follows soon after her.

-

👀👀👀👀👀

[witchygirl99]

finding a photo of your enemy as a toddler, inukag

Ask, and you shall receive.

1800 words under the cut. Not edited. Written at work so it was a shoddy rush job and everything is very vague and you'll just have to accept this.

I'll write a proper, better video gamer AU one day. For now though...

Won't You Say (You Love Me, Too)

The thing is—

The thing is that Inuyasha isn’t meant to be here. Sure, he’s a little drunk. And sure, Koga’s stupid face dared him, because Koga is both stupid, has a face, and that face is stupid. Inuyasha didn’t have to listen, though. Inuyasha could have done a billion other things, like walk away, or laugh the dare off, or – or – could have even gotten himself another drink.

That… That would have been the smarter plan.

Inuyasha hiccups, flinching at the noise. He is so not supposed to be here.

“Inuyasha,” stupid Koga hisses from below. It’s probably supposed to be a whisper. It’s not. It’s like…quieter yelling, but yelling nonetheless.

Haughtily, Inuyasha glares down at his teammate. The window that he’s jimmied open to break into the Priestess House is still open. It’s unseasonably warm for an autumn night, but it’s strangely comforting. At least, Inuyasha thinks so. That could just be the alcohol talking, though.

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, “what do you see?”

He blinks, frowns, and then squints into the dark room. There’s not a ton of illumination from either the moon, or the streetlights. He thinks, dimly, that this is a…bedroom? A bedroom. This is not, in fact, the office that they thought they were breaking into.

[Read the rest below the cut.]

He takes in a deep breath, brain pinging at him worriedly. He knows this scent. It’s familiar. Too familiar. Inuyasha should know whose room he’s in and it’s on the tip of his tongue – his nose? No, that’s not a saying – when Koga makes another hissing sound.

Ugh.

“What?” Inuyasha snarls, so desperate to glare out the window at his stupid teammate and at said stupid teammate’s face that he nearly stumbles. Bracing himself on the little table underneath, he makes a point to roll his eyes when the wolf demon waves alarmingly at him. “What is so urgent that you need to—”

“I hear them,” Koga whisper-yells, because he’s stupid. “They’re just down the street.”

“What?” he exclaims, but this time it’s desperate rather than irritated. “I thought Miroku said the girls would be gone for at least an hour.”

“Well, his intel is shit,” Koga replies. “Now get out!”

So much for sneaking into their offices to find out if any of their playing strategies would be visible. The regional gaming tournament is only two days away, and every single member of the six-person Priestess team has been dominating the competition. Their battle strategies have taken weaker characters and turned them into something surprisingly efficient. It should be impossible. Character stats don’t lie.

And yet. And yet. The women of the Priestess House have made a mockery of nearly everyone there. And the worst of them?

Kagome Higurashi. The absolute bane of his existence. She came onto the scene about three years ago, rising up the ranks. Inuyasha hadn’t even given her a second thought until The Incident last year.

The Incident, in which she—

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, like an angry cat. A cat. Not a wolf. Inuyasha should tell him this. Inuyasha is desperate to tell him this. “You need to jump out the window, you fuck.”

Right. The Priestess girls were coming back. Kagome would be with them and that would be— That would be bad. Not just because of the breaking and entering, or the trespassing. It would be bad because Inuyasha would have to be around her for likely more than a minute, which would mean that he’d have to stare into those dark eyes and that too-kind smile – like they’re friends, which they are not – and then—

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to leave you,” Koga states, and that finally drills through Inuyasha’s pretty drunk skull. Can skulls be drunk?

No?

Maybe.

“I’m coming,” Inuyasha replies, pushing upwards, but he’s an idiot. The table underneath him isn’t that sturdy, and so his pressure on it to climb back out the window from which he entered sends a picture frame crashing to the ground.

“Inuyasha!”

“Oh my god, say my name one more time and I will murder you!” Inuyasha snaps. Koga is not helping, that fucking fuck. “Hold the fuck on, we can’t let them know—” And he bends down to grab the frame and put it back. Hopefully whoever’s room this is won’t notice.

And then he sees the picture in the frame, practically mocking him. It’s fucking Kagome Higurashi, no more than four years old and clinging to a small baby who looks distinctly unhappy by the entire experience. It’s undoubtedly her. While there’s more chub to her cheeks, those are the same sparkling eyes and that’s the same beaming smile. He would know that smile anywhere because it always makes him feel off-balance, confused. No one just smiles at people, at strangers. No one just smiles at you while they’re getting destroyed in one-on-one battle, and then shakes your hand with that same happy smile when they’ve lost. They don’t use that exact same smile when they see you again later in the year, at another tournament, and only stop smiling when they beat you so badly—

Oh god.

Oh fucking god.

This is Kagome’s bedroom. This is Kagome’s bedroom and he’s in her room and—

Kagome Higurashi at four years old smiles the exact same way, and she’s clinging to a little boy and that’s a big purple dinosaur right beside her on the couch. A dinosaur. She likes dinosaurs, oh god this is the worst—

“Godspeed, fucker,” Koga whispers-yells. “We hardly knew ye!” There’s the distinct sound of bushes rustling. His own teammate has abandoned him. Inuyasha is going to commit murder.

Firmly putting down the picture frame, Inuyasha starts the careful climb back out the window. He’s got one leg out, half of his body strained to reach the little lip in the brickwork he climbed up earlier. His hands grab at the sill, twisting him, and then he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

It’s on her bed, perfectly placed and disgustingly cute.

“Oh no,” Inuyasha groans, and then promptly shoves himself out the window. It takes him ten precious seconds to balance, and then another ten seconds to close the window and hide the fact he ever broke in in the first place. At the first sound of voices, Inuyasha freezes against the brick, propped up in a little corner and distinctly not looking down. It’s not a far drop, but the last thing Inuyasha needs is to lose his balance, topple into the garden, and then have the Priestess women come running to see what the fuck happened.

He waits, breath nearly held, until they start opening the door. There’s enough fuss and discussion that Inuyasha feels safe in making his escape, running away like the hounds of hell are chasing him. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look back.

When he finds Koga, lounging on the couch and drinking yet another beer at their shared gaming house, it takes a solid ten seconds of very slow counting to remind himself that murder is bad.

Besides, they have a tournament to win on Saturday.

X+X

The next day, Inuyasha finds himself looking for purple dinosaurs on Amazon.

This is, well, not ideal.

“What are you doing?” Hachi asks, eyes narrowed in confusion and then widening in concern when Inuyasha flinches to hide this embarrassing lack of restraint. “Wow, okay.”

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha replies, but he’s too mortified to even make it mean-sounding. He just comes off as pathetic.

There’s a snort in the doorway, and Miroku comes bumbling in with a clipboard. He takes his duties as team manager far too seriously. “What did Hachi do wrong now?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hachi replies, eyeing Inuyasha again. “He’s the one that went all crazy when I asked him what he was doing.”

“And what was he doing?” Miroku presses. He’s grinning like a fool because he’s the worst. The worst best friend a guy could ask for. Inuyasha doesn’t know why he’s teammates with these idiots. It’s bad enough he’s got to deal with Koga.

“I wasn’t do anything,” he tries, but Hachi’s just shaking his head.

“Looking at his phone. I don’t know.”

Miroku turns to him, a shark that smells blood in the water. “Your phone? Who are you texting?”

“No one,” Inuyasha scoffs. “Fuck off.”

This gets a nod, and he has one moment of hope that Miroku won’t push the issue when his best friend hums. “You’re right. You have no friends outside of this team.”

“I’m not his friend!” Koga yells from somewhere else in the house.

Inuyasha sighs.

“So you must have been watching something.”

“No,” Hachi argues, “he was holding his phone like this. He was reading something, or maybe scrolling?”

“Inuyasha can’t read!” comes Koga’s voice again. They all ignore him.

“You’re not on Instagram,” Miroku hums, playing fucking Sherlock Holmes. “And you’re definitely not on TikTok. Discord is just another form of talking to people, so that’s out.”

Growling, he shoves his phone in the pocket of hoodie and gets up. “I am leaving.”

“Ooh, he’s leaving,” his friend continues, blue eyes alight with something dangerously close to glee. “Fuck, it has to be about Kagome then. That’s the only time you get this pissy.”

“Ha!” Hachi laughs because he, too, is the worst.

“That’s my future wife!” Koga yells from the other room, but that’s just because he’s delusional. As if someone like Koga could fucking rub two braincells together enough to impress her. Inuyasha’s face does a thing at the very thought.

“Oh my god, it is!” Miroku cackles.

“No,” Inuyasha answers, and he thinks he does a pretty good job of remaining calm. “But fuck you, anyways.”

“Are you reading her Wikitubia again?” his friend asks and that is it—

“One time!” Inuyasha yells, storming away from the main room. “That was one time!”

His teammates’ laughter follows him all the way back to his bedroom. Shippo, rubbing at his eyes after his nap – because he acts like a literal child, it’s embarrassing – just stares at him confusedly. “What did I miss?”

Inuyasha doesn’t stop walking. “Absolutely fucking nothing.” He gets into his room, shuts the door with a disturbing amount of care, and then leaps onto his bed to try and suffocate himself with a pillow. The walls of their gaming house aren’t that thick. If he tries hard enough, Inuyasha could hear the shit they’re undoubtedly still talking about him.

One time, Inuyasha pathetically whines in his head. He was only caught staring at her Wikitubia page one time. He was sizing up the enemy. Looking for weaknesses to exploit. That’s the only reason he did it. Just like that’s the only reason he watches her YouTube videos religiously, at least once a day, and always at night once everyone else has fallen asleep.

It’s not because of anything weird. It’s because she’s the enemy. She’s the competition. Inuyasha must figure out a way to destroy her.

Later that night, when he goes back to re-watching an old YouTube video of hers – one Kagome had posted within the first month of her rise to so-called fame – that he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

Sitting propped up on some pillows, like a prized treasure.

“Motherfucker,” Inuyasha snaps. He doesn’t stop the video, though. There could be secrets. Weaknesses to exploit. Yadda yadda yadda, he’s not in denial, this is only his third time watching it, blah blah—

Kagome smiles in the video and his chest does the thing.

Inuyasha sighs. Miroku can never, ever see his browsing history.

X+X

Tagging: @ideasthatbuildcities​ @wolfcry77​ @alerialblu​ @misspepperpottss​ @sailorbabydoll92​ @willowandfog​ @amethystablaze​ @fawn-eyed-girl​ @noyourenotreal​ @hnn-wnchstr​ @liz8080​ @nsr0716​ @superpixie42​ @itzatakahashi​ @mandirox89​ @inussunflower​ @cstormsinukagblog​ @nartista​ @hopidoodle​ @princessinume​ @lavendertwilight89​ @anxietyaardvark​ @omgitscharlie​ @theinuyashareader​ @ruddcatha​ @umacaking​ @kagometaishostory​ @cammysansstuff​ @sacred-arrow-writes @sacred-arrow @gicu2 @neutronstarchild @kalcia

[ladywhistleclown]

Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader: Stairs Solve Problems

Summary: You try to teach Anthony to loosen up at a party, your way.

A/N: imagine the stair sliding scene in Ella Enchanted except with Anthony. Thank you for your time. Yes this is self indulgent. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2467

Warnings: Fluff, Anthony and Reader are childish, they also constantly banter at each other but it’s Bridgerton so-

—

“If Anthony keeps making that absolutely dour face through the rest of the party, it'll stick that way.” You grumbled, Benedict laughing loudly in response as you tossed another glance at the sour viscount.

While you had made your best attempts at mingling and partying, even gracing a few with dances (a regret, to be sure), He hadn’t moved from his spot against the wall in the last hour, deflecting mamas and maidens alike, content to stand and scowl at the masses.

“Ah, well. He must be in a mood.” Benedict said in a way of explanation, taking another sip from his liquor. You rolled your eyes, turning to face away from Anthony and his harsh glare.

“If he can’t even smile, how will he ever get a wife?” You tsk, shaking your head with mock disappointment, causing Benedict to snort and nearly splutter up his drink.

“How will he ever get a wife at all?” He countered, dabbing a bit of his spilled alcohol off of his jacket. “With an attitude like that, not even the mamas will approach him before long.”

“Perhaps I should go cheer him up?” You suggested, turning back to look at him. He was still glaring, although it looked like it was now directed in your particular direction. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and you looked away quickly.

“If you dare.” Is all Benedict graced you with, his mischievous grin growing wider as he slipped past you and into the gallery.

Artists! You thought, shaking your head. Anthony was a close friend, but you had meant to approach him with Benedict. You were close enough to know his ‘moods’, and how to steer clear of them.

It appeared though, that as he continued to stare sullenly, that you were the only option.

Sighing, you leveled your chin and swept up to him, trying to appear both as regal and ridiculous you could, a smile bubbling through your composure as you dipped into the clumsiest, lowest curtsy of your life in front of him.

Hopefully, Whistledown, whoever she was, wasn’t looking in your direction tonight.

“A dance, My Lord?”

“I believe it is customary for the man to ask the woman, no?” In spite of himself, he smiled, both at your request and theatrics, and you knew you had won already.

“Very well. I shall wait for my invitation.” You replied promptly, demurely folding your hands and continuing to stand in front of him. He chuckled, realizing you wouldn’t leave until he gave you what you wanted.

“I don’t dance.”

“This is not a waltz, My Lord.”

“I do not dance at all.”

“Not even my way? Away from...prying eyes?” He swallowed, shaking himself from the cesspool his thoughts had gone into the moment you had stepped closer, dipped your voice low to speak to him.

Of course, he knew you would never proposition him like that. You were devoted to your social standing, even as you hated it, and would never do something as silly as tempt a rake upstairs, unchaperoned, and away from a party.

So clearly, you were up to something else.

“Your way?”

You grinned.

—

Somehow, you had tempted a rake upstairs, unchaperoned, and away from the party. With pure intentions, of course, but the ton would view it the same either way.

If they find out, you reminded yourself, leading Anthony up the grand staircase in the deserted main hall. which they won’t.

Once you reached the top of the stairs, you stopped, turning back to face the floor below. Anthony stopped too, puzzled.

“Here we are, My Lord!” Your giddy voice only confused him more, as did your bright, excited smile when you glanced up at his face.

“The landing?”

“Hah! No, the staircase! Well, the rail.” You explained, patting the polished metal rail on the left of the staircase, gleaming from a fresh polish.

“I’m not quite sure I follow you, Lady.” He admitted.

“I always do this when I’m in a sour mood, and it appears as though you could use it just as well.” Before he could open his mouth to protest, you continued, “It’s quite fun. Just try?”

He sighed. He could never resist you, even less when you pleaded with him, and so he nodded quickly. He doubted whatever you had planned with the stairs would bring him much respite from his plaguing thoughts of Siena, but it was worth a try.

If for no other reason, to make a childhood friend happy.

“Alright. What is it you’ll have me doing?” You squealed at his assent, gripping his hand and pulling him closer to the rail.

“Sliding down the rail.”

“What?”

“The rail. It’s very long, and the curve makes it even more fun to slide down. Have you never done this in your own home?” You cocked your head to the side, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Of course I had, when I was a boy. This is for children.”

“Anthony.”

“My Lady-“

“You promised you’d try.” You reminded, crossing your arms. You wondered if stomping your foot would be too reminiscent of a petulant child, and decided against it. Acting like a little girl wouldn’t help your argument now.

He stared, before finally shaking his head and moving to sit on the rail. He glanced up at you obediently once he had settled on it, and you smiled in encouragement.

“I must admit, this isn’t what I had in mind when you said ‘private dance’.” He laughed lowly.

“Rake.” You shot, but there was no venom behind the word, no malice. An almost practiced response.

“This won’t break, will it?” He changed the subject, glancing down at the rail beneath him. It seemed sturdy, but just because it could hold a maiden didn’t mean it would hold him.

“No, of course not. Now, slide down, and I’ll come down after.”

“I suppose you expect me to catch you?”

“It’s half the fun, Anthony.” Exasperated, you gently shove his shoulder. “Now, slide.”

“You’re very pushy.”

“I like to think of it as determination. Slide.”

Finally relenting, Anthony used his hands to push himself off, sliding easily down the waxed metal, following the curve of the grand staircase and landing neatly on his feet at the bottom.

Anthony tried to be a serious man, at least in society. Brothels and opera houses aside, when it came down to it, he thought he did a pretty good job of carrying himself through society as a Viscount and head of his family.

Yet, as his boots made contact with the marble floor with a loud click, indicating that he had landed, he was laughing. It was fun, although he was loathe to tell you that you were ever right (you’d never let him forget it), something about the nostalgia, laughs shared between brothers as they took turns bothering the help by ruining the perfectly polished stair rails.

It already had him forgetting, smiling, laughing.

You smiled, hearing his laughter from the landing of the stairs. I told you, you thought smugly, kicking off your flats and gathering your skirt as you sat on the rail, shoving yourself off. You giggled the entire way down, waiting eagerly to see Anthony around the curve, hopefully ready to catch you.

It would be very unbecoming to leave a lady to topple off of a stair rail. Though, perhaps it was more unbecoming to sneak away with a man to ride on stair rails and then demand he catch you.

Luckily for you, Anthony had no intention of letting you fall, catching you just as you rounded the curve of the stairs and hit the end of the rail, spinning you around in his arms and laughing along with you.

“I told you it was fun!” You said indignantly, clutching at his waistcoat before standing and righting yourself.

“You were right, of course. Again?” He was already rushing upstairs, leaving you smiling brightly below. His bright face and demeanor reminded you of the boy you knew before, not a Viscount or leader, or even a rake, but Anthony, mischievous and fun loving and sometimes a bit foolish.

You followed him up the stairs, hiking your skirts to run faster. He was already situated on the rail, and the moment he saw you had reached the landing, he pushed himself off, laughing and whooping. You followed shortly, and he caught you again, spinning you around before setting you down and quickly jogging up the stairs.

You must have gone down dozens of times, completely having forgotten the ball in favor of your childish game. Anthony didn’t mind, and neither did you.

At least until you came down, and after righting you, he grinned and said, “I don’t think I can go again, My Lady.”

“Why not? Must you leave?”

“We are ruining our clothes.”

“What?” You raised your eyebrows, and in response, Anthony turned around, revealing his issue.

In a thick, horizontal line, exactly the size of the rail, Anthony’s breeches were fraying and tearing away. It would only take one more slide to rip them entirely away, not that they could really be worn acceptably at all now.

You laughed loudly, and he turned around again, laughing with you. You had expected him to grow embarrassed or angry at your giggles, but it appeared as though the rails truly had loosened him up, willing to laugh at his misfortunes.

You were glad.

“Oh dear, that certainly is a problem! A funny one!” You snorted, patting his shoulder.

“Indeed. Although, I don’t regret the actions that led me to it.”

“Of course not! It was recommended by me, after all.” You turned, inspecting your own skirts. The metal had left dark stains on your gown, and the edges were ragged from your repeated trips up and down the stairs, often tripping over them in your haste.

“Mother will be furious.” You sighed, “Well, at least it is not a hole.” You glanced up at him again, barbing him with a sweet smile.

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes, although when he looked back down to you, they were...soft.

“Thank you. For trying to help me with my troubles.”

“Oh please. You’re my friend. Was I supposed to let you suffer in silence at the party?”

“Most would.”

“I am not most, My Lord.” He started, lips parted slightly in retort, and then froze. You had always been one of few to help him, to listen to his troubles with Siena and his mother and Simon, a shoulder to cry on for comfort and a beacon of advice for help.

In the cold, calculated world of the London Elite, you were one of few who were genuinely kind, accepting, helpful.

How had he not seen it before?

“No, you are not.” He said simply, quietly. Before you could question his meaning, the doors to the main hall opened.

“Lord Bridgerton?” You gaped as your mother stepped in, Anthony quickly turning to the door and folding his hands behind his back to hide his wardrobe malfunction. “...Daughter?” in a much more shocked tone. You shrunk away from Anthony to face her.

“Mother. Anthony was upset, so I was...helping him. We slid on the stair rail.” You admitted. It would be a flimsy excuse if it weren’t true, and you were terrified she wouldn’t believe you.

Honor was everything in the ton, and being caught alone with a gentleman would destroy yours.

“It’s true. We were...reliving childhood.” Anthony chimed. You shot him a grateful look, surprised that he had chimed in for your benefit.

Strangely, your mother simply smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “Of course. I remember how many gowns you ruined doing just that. And I can see the smudges from here.” She commented, pointing at your gown, where a large, darkened patch of your petticoat had smeared onto your sleeve.

“My apologies.” You mumbled.

“No need, dear. I suppose we must leave early, no need to raise suspicions, and your gown is in tatters anyway. I cannot let you enter a ballroom in it. I’ll call for the carriage. Wait here.”

And with that, you and Anthony were left alone together. You slowly turned to him, and judging by the expression on his face, he was thinking the same as you

“That went remarkably well.” He said, holding back a laugh “I thought she would kill me.”

“Oh, if anything, I’d be the dead man.” You scoffed. “I’m shocked she left us again, as well. She must be scheming something.”

“Our marriage?”

“Hah! You cannot be serious. She’d never let me marry a man who would slide down stair rails with me!”

You both laughed again, and your mother peeked in.

“Carriage is ready my dear. Make haste.” You nodded, turning to Anthony.

“I’ll take my leave, then. I had fun, Anthony. Thank you for indulging my foolish whims.” You curtsied, properly this time, and he smirked.

“Of course. Call on me the next time you have a whim. I’d be happy to join you.” He gave a short bow of his head, and you joined your mother at the door, disappearing behind it.

Once you were in the carriage, your mother sighed sweetly. You prepared yourself.

“Ah, young love! How fun!”

“We are friends, mama.”

“Oh please. Men don’t ruin their breeches for just anyone.” That made you laugh. And maybe, just maybe, you hoped she was right.

—

Anthony had no choice but to retire early, calling a carriage and going alone. He could explain to his family later, he was sure they were used to his disappearing act. A smile on his face, he floated about the house, going about his nightly duties, his mind only on you, your kindness, and your constant chase for fun.

It wasn’t until he had finished changing his breeches and settled into his office chair that he realized that for the entire night, he had completely forgotten Siena, entirely focused on you and your antics.

The next morning, Anthony requested that the stair rails in the Bridgerton home be well polished every morning. For no particular reason, of course.

[littlefreya]

Lines in the Sand

Summary: She is one of the best snipers serving in Iraq, but she is also suffering from an attitude problem and ironically has a hard time following orders. After an incident in her former base, she is sent to join the Special Forces unit led by Captain Syverson, who requires a talented sniper. 

Unlucky for her, Captain Syverson is a hard man who likes things by the book and according to order. He ain't got the patience for troublemakers.  

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Jessica Gallagher)

Word count: 1,784

Warnings: Smut in future parts, some foul language and sexual content.

A/N: Please enjoy, reblog, like. The world needs more Syverson, and I think he is one of Henry's finest roles.

Tagging: @writingaftermidnight​ @centaine​ @sciapod​ (who encourage me to write)  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Epilogue Chapter 1: Iron Maiden

Bad girl. 

That’s what they say she is; trouble, attitude problems. 

She heard all of it at psych evaluation. 

'Prodigy' is another word they use for her. 

And sometimes even 'asset'.

She likes this one the most. It strips her of all human notions. 

That’s the only reason to keep her around, and it’s not like she has any desire to go home anyway. Home is tough. Here in the desert, surrounded by death and horny virgins - that’s the easy part. 

“Killing is easy,” she said to the military psychologist who had her profiled from head to toe before being transferred to camp Warhorse.

“Gallagher?” a young soldier calls toward her, huffing and covered with a sheen layer of sweat as he runs toward her. She glares at him bemused, holding the fresh new uniforms which she just collected from the storage unit. 

“Yeah?" 

The boy's face is lightly freckled, his big doe eyes seem untouched by war and his freshly shaven buzzcut shows he only just arrived. 'More meat for the grinder'  she muses, just another kid who doesn't belong here, like the most of them. She knows the type well enough to write a thesis about it by now. If she thought she had any brain to do that sort of stuff. 

"Captain Syverson wants to talk to you.”

The kid looks her up, probably wondering why she even here. She got used to that type of stare a while ago.

“I just arrived here from another division” she explains, “didn’t even get into my uniform, what’s the fucking rush?”

The kid shrugs, looking slightly terrified as if she is supposed to be scared of Captain Syverson and shouldn’t be talking that way.

“Fine…” she sighs heavily, lowering the tip of her army hat and rolling her eyes.

As a soldier serving at the professional US army, Gallagher knows she has a shit-ton of issues with authority, yet she wouldn’t be in any other place.  

The Captain sits at his office, wearing his favourite red t-shirt and army shorts that cut at his knees. A small portable fan is perched on his desk, pinning from side to side and blowing tiny droplet of sweat from his ridged forehead.  

During that time of the year, the temperatures reach a level that won’t shame the fiery pits of hell. Even a southern-born man like him an effort dealing with the heat, but Sy suffers quietly, not even mentioning a word of the weather. Small-talk is a waste of time, and ain't nothing but the pretence that people care when they don't.

“Captain, Sir,” the kid walks into his room, saluting the Captain. “I have private Gallagher with me.”

The young woman follows, a blank stare on her face. She salutes toward the Captain, looking robotic and so indifferent he can tell already she had a great potential of pulling some stunt and getting detained. 

“Thanks, Private Holt, you may leave now," he answers in a heavy southern accent,  and voice low and rich like smoked Whiskey.

Holt leaves the room in a hurry, leaving Gallagher to stand quietly in front of the Captain. She has dressed in a plain white t-shirt and khaki field trousers while her eyes remain hidden beneath the tip of her hat. 

“Sit down, soldier." 

He commands, taking her file in his large dirt-stained hands.

She sits down quietly. Scanning the room with silence. It is yet another captain’s office, maps on the wall, guns and ammo. A "Slayer” labelled mug rests on in his desk with freshly brewed coffee, next to it is a deck of cards. No pinup girls posters apparent anywhere, not a perv unlike her former Captain, or at least he is hiding it in his bedroom.

He finally turns to look at her, manspreading on his chair with zero elegance or concern toward her. Why should she be treated any differently?

Captain Syverson is surprisingly a very attractive man. A big guy with broad shoulders and massive muscles. His cropped short hair does well to bring out his excellent bone structure while a few scars decorate his forehead and his upper left cheek. His strained face is covered with a thick, untamed beard which he strokes at his chin while thinking to himself. 

He takes one glance at her with his fierce blue glare, and then gives her his next command “Hat off, private.”

“Sir”. She replies with compliance, taking off her hat and placing it atop her folded uniform.   

One glance at her now exposed face, and he is forced to fight back a snort of laughter. He learned how to keep his emotions hooded in this job. She is petite, her arms may look strong yet quite skinny. And it’s quite a wonder that her skin is pale while serving in the middle of the fucking Iraqi desert. 

If this was anywhere else right now, he’d offer her a burger. This is the elite they’ve been speaking of? For fuck sake. Better be worth it. 

He is aware, of course, that she is pretty, they usually are. Chase and Annica for example. Sometimes he wonders if they send all the cheerleaders squad to his unit to fuck with him, since he can’t actually, fuck them.  

“That’s better”. He gives her a small smirk which quickly fades back into what seems like his usual grumpy face. 

“We’ll keep it short and honest, private,” he says, opening her file “You’ve been transferred here from your unit, they say you are a prodigy…”

“Take me out there, and I’ll shoot a rabbit between the eyes from 20 miles away.” she interrupts him, speaking coldly. 

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he asks her with slight anger. Never in his life, he had a young recruit dare to do so, especially not a woman.

She remains silent, knowing that’s actually the required response. For change, 

“Good. Your file shows amazing achievements” He throws her file in front of her with what seemed like an utter lack of actual interest “it also shows you have attitude problems.” His eyes meet hers as he says these words, his lips clasped to show some sort of severity. “Do you know what I want to know?”

Her blue eyes stare back into his with a dead gaze. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes “Permission to speak granted.”

“You want to ask if I’m going to cause any trouble.”

He nods, folding his arms together, his eyes travelling up and down her features for a mere second. 

“No, Captain.” She can’t promise him that even if a gun was pointed at her head, but she plays along. Everything in life is like her stupid video games anyway. Oh, she does miss those. 

“Good.” He gives her another hasty smile, the kind that doesn’t show any genuine care or affection and is just meant to move the conversation forward. “So you know why you’re here?”

“I’m very good with my sniper rifle, Captain." 

"It says you’re a fucking wonder”. He answers, not ashamed to curse in front of her, which she finds slightly refreshing. All the other men constantly apologize as if she doesn’t shoot people’s head-off for a living. As if women don’t see brutality as much as men do. Perhaps even more.

“Listen, I care about my men. Just live up to your name, be a good girl and you might just make daddy proud ”. He explains to her, not even regretting saying the finale part. It’s just how he talks and if she has a problem with that she might as well not be here. 

But she doesn’t even flinch. Instead, she replies with a small, nearly invisible smirk and nods. 

“Yes, Captain." 

The Captain’s eyes lit up with the charm of a child as he smiles widely for surviving yet another conversation with a new recruit and even though he has scruff all over his face she detects two large apparent dimples in his cheek.

Finally, he stretches from his chair and stands. She follows, noticing he is menacingly tall and seems to carry himself with sheer confidence and intimidation. 

"Come, I’ll show you your room." 

She follows him silently down the hall. He doesn’t bother with making any boring small talk which she is actually quite thankful for. It’s easier to not try to connect with people. The base is quite loud at the moment anyway, and she’d be unable to hear half of it.

"Men go here.” He points to one room by the end of the hall and then continues walking until they pause next to a closed room, “Ladies go here, you met the other girls?” he asks to which she shakes her head “Well you will. Girls get their own private shower in the room, in under no circumstances you are to use the collective shower room”

He pauses and turns to look down at her. Eyes growing sofer all of a sudden. “Anyone ever bothers you, says anything even slightly inappropriate, you come straight to me, you get it?” he asks her, managing to sound both severe yet still soft at the same time. 

“I’m just over there, by the end of the hall.” he looks to the other side, touching her shoulder without thinking, so she’ll face where he is pointing. His hand leaves her shoulder without any of them, giving it any attention. 

The Captain has his own little private kingdom at the end of the very house they turned into an army base, so it seems. She wonders if that’s where all the pinup posters are hidden at.

“Enjoy your stay, Gallagher”. He speaks, looking down at her face, wondering how long will it be before he has her in his office for some sketchy behaviour. 

“Thank you, Captain, I will.” she gives him another one of her forced smirks and turns away, walking into her new quarter. 

He takes one look at her as she turns from him, unable to resist his natural temptation to look at her ass. 

It’s small, tight, the way he likes it.

'Yes, she’s gonna be trouble.'

There are two girls in the room, sitting on their beds. A beautiful redhead with rather wide shoulders and strong arms. The other woman is somewhat petite as herself with tanned skin and beautiful dark eyes. They’re both looking quite curious to know her.

“The fuck is with your captain, walking around with severe big dick energy?!” she speaks out with sheer confidence.

The other girls look at her for a long moment, complete shock on their face by the content that came out of her mouth but then burst into laughter that can be heard all over the base. 

Clearly, she isn’t the only one who noticed.

[katie-writes24]

Say It Don’t Spray It

Pairing: John Laurens x reader

Warnings: Language, alcohol, suggestive material, FUCK TON OF ANGST KIDS, kinda sad, John doesn’t know when to shut up :,)

Part 2

Request: hey! my request was a laurens x reader where they're frenemies, n one day they get into this huge fight that stems from nothing, angst angst angst, and then he comes to her house to apologize. they simultaneously realize they have feelings for one another, and fluff fluff fluff...idek know after that lol - @notebookgirl30

Okay....WAYYYY OVERDUE I TOTALLY APOLOGIZE! Ngl this was a bit of a struggle to write because I just wanted to get a good feel of their “relationship/friendship” but I think I got it. Maybe? But I built a bigger storyline than expected so there’ll be a part 2. But yeah, hope you enjoy! Thank you @tinywhim for the title (you’re a real one, you don’t even know). Let me know if you want to be tagged! Leave me some feedback PLEASE!! And yeah! Enjoy!

“Has anyone ever told you you’re super boring?”

Y/N scoffed, “I’ve always loved your compliments, Angelica.”

She rolled her eyes, giving her coworker an exaggerated look. “You have nothing better to do on a Friday night. Normal people go out, and party and have fun! It’s the weekend, Y/N, you don’t have to worry about anything!”

That was an overstatement. Y/N actually did have lots to do, like finish her report and pay her bills and visit her parents and do actual adult things. Her partying days were over in college, and she knew that nothing good could come from a night surrounded by all of Angelica’s friends, some who happen to be their coworkers.

This was different though, in a way. Yes, it was Angelica’s birthday, but she was never good at social interaction, especially not at a club. These days she’ll go out with the Schuyler’s for a couple of drinks and go home and call it a day. That was enough for her, and she was okay with it. She was perfectly fine with her own friends telling her how she’s a buzzkill when it comes to partying. She was fine with not putting herself out there to guys because she didn’t think it was necessary right now.

She was comfortable at this point in her life, and she wasn’t going to ruin that over a drunken night at the club.

“Aren’t you two like best friends? You’re gonna miss your best friend’s birthday party?” Y/N turned to find John tutting in mock disapproval, swaying slightly on his chair.

“Will you butt out?” Y/N glared hard but it didn’t have the proper effect when he only laughed.

That’s the other problem. John is going to be there, which could only mean chaos. She’s been to enough office parties over the last two years to notice that he can’t hold his liquor and is incredibly loud. Not only were his obnoxious traits an issue, but there was something about him that got under her skin, not totally in a good way.

Eliza would never make her forget her little crush that sparked at the beginning of her job, when John was always nice to her and would give her this blinding smile. That sailed long ago, but apparently, a drunken night full of shared secrets was enough for the Schuyler to remember. Now, maybe there were some things that Y/N could pick out to prove to herself that he was an actual decent human being, but the John Laurens that had been sitting beside her for years was still John Laurens.

“I’m sitting three feet away from you,” He gestured at their desks that were only separated by a couple of inches. “I can literally hear everything you’re saying.”

“And he’s right!” Angelica reached over her desk and grabbed her hand. “It wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there. Please, Y/N, it’s just a couple of hours. I promise if you really get uncomfortable you can leave, but I know you won’t because it is going to be amazing!”

Rolling her eyes yet again, Y/N did feel a little guilty. Angelica has always been there for her, through all the ups and downs, she’s been her biggest support system. It wouldn’t be fair to not celebrate her birthday with her.

“Fine,” Angelica practically squealed at her grumble. “But don’t count on me as your designated driver, because I might really dip out if it gets too rowdy for me.”

“Might as well not go then. Put me and Alex together, pshhh, you’ll be walking out the door as soon as you step in.” John winked, like he just knew how to get Y/N fired up and ready to argue back. Angelica knew too, as she pulled her hands toward her again, gaining her attention.

“Ignore him, I swear we will all have a good time! Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

She looked hopeful, almost as if this was her intention all along. But Y/N knew better, no matter how many times Angelica tried to set her up, she wouldn’t invite her somewhere only to be mislead and be set on a blind date.

“I am not interested, I am perfectly capable of finding someone on my own, if I choose.” She made sure to point out the last part so her friend would drop the subject.

“I’m just saying,” Angelica put her hands in up in defense, but still had that knowing look on her face like she didn’t believe her. Y/N sighed and got up from her chair, heading towards the break room for another coffee.

Upon entering, she noticed Thomas was already by the coffee machine, pouring his own cup. He looked up and raised a brow. “Long day?”

“And it’s only getting started,” Y/N rubbed a hand over her face and motioned towards the machine. “Are you done hogging that now?”

“Woah, woah, what did I do to be treated with such attitude?” Thomas chuckled and grabbed a cup for her.

“Sorry, I’m just...kind of stressed, not really looking forward to the weekend?”

“You mean Angelica’s party?” Thomas handed the cup over to her, nodding at her thanks and watched her add cream into the liquid.

“Yes, actually. I’m not really good at parties, I think they’re too exciting for me. Go on, say it, I’m a boring buzzkill.” It’s not like she’s ever heard anything different before when trying to explain how she’d rather stay at home and unwind while reading a book or watching tv and just relaxing, instead of being surrounded by sweaty bodies and drinking till she grows numb.

“Now why are you putting words in my mouth? I was actually going to say I agree with you.” Y/N looked up in shock, not believing that Thomas Jefferson was one to refuse a party invitation.

“Really? You don’t like parties?”

“Not that I don’t like them, sometimes they grow old. It’s the same scene over and over again and I’d rather switch it up a bit, change the location, you know?” He had a small smile on his face, looking like he was fonding over some memory.

“You’re right, it must be so hard being invited to parties all the time!” Y/N smirked as he gasped dramatically in mock offense. It only lead to them giggling to each other, only stopping when someone else cleared their throat from the doorway.

Y/N found John standing, his usual smile gone and replaced with a frown and furrowed brows. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no, I was just leaving actually,” Thomas made way to the exit before hesitating, turning back to look at Y/N. “I’ll see you at the party, Y/N.”

She waved shyly, watching him walk away. It was comforting talking to Thomas, in a way. They didn’t do it very often, but when they did Y/N felt relaxed.

Lost in her thoughts, a cough startled her and she realized she was standing in John’s way. Y/N stepped to the side, muttering an apology and thinking how Friday night might not be so bad.

~~~

It’s not that Y/N doubted that Angelica would not settle for less than a full out, top quality club. But she didn’t think that it would include a private floor, filled with a bunch of people that Y/N didn’t know. Luckily, she spotted the birthday girl herself from across the room.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Angelica screamed over the music that was blasting from the floor below. She was well passed tipsy already, but she knew that Angelica would want to sober up before the night was over. She was never one to purposefully forget her birthday. “Come on, let’s get you a drink!”

She pulled her over towards the overcrowded bar, pushing passed drunks and couples dancing, Y/N even got stumbled into and turned to find a familiar head of curls.

“Watch it, Laurens!” The glare sent his way was enough to make him sheepishly smile.

“My bad,” John walked off towards a booth in the corner, surrounded by a few other men, one who she had recognized as a friend of Thomas.

A shot was shoved into her hand and soon enough, so were two more. Once a proper drink was in her hold, Angelica invited her to a game of pool with her sisters. 

Somehow, Y/N got surrounded by a bunch of people that she didn’t know. Angelica had been dragged over by a short man, which meant Y/N was dragged as well. It was the booth full of John’s friends, and they had made their impression, that was for sure.

“Ah, and who do we have here?” Thomas’s friend came over and smiled, making Angelica smirk and push his chest.

“Laf, this is Y/N,” Even though they had never met before, Lafayette beamed at the mention of her name.

“So, this is the famous Y/N we have heard so much about, heh?” He grinned devilishly, like he knew something that she didn’t. It was strange, what would Angelica have said about her?

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N stuck out her hand politely.

“Oh please, the pleasure is all mine, cherie!” He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss in her knuckles. She giggled at his performance, looking to see if anyone else was buying the act. But when she looked around to see if anyone else knew something, she only saw John glaring at his friend while sipping on his drink.

Her coworker’s odd behavior was enough for her to move herself to the bar, ordering another drink for herself. As the bartender handed her the cup, he told her that it was already paid for, pointing her in the direction to a man across the room. He was cute, and if the look in his eye told her anything, it was the words Angelica had said.

You don’t have to worry about anything.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

Perhaps she was right.

She was tired of everyone telling her how boring she was.

Y/N found herself dancing with the guy, not bothering to learn his name and more focused on her hips moving with his. The lips on her neck gave her a rush, like she was finally doing something fun and risky.

His hands were pulling at the hem of her dress when she was jolted forward. The guy had bumped into her hard, and when she turned around she found out it wasn’t the guys fault, but John’s.

“What the hell man?” The guy got up in his face. Y/N couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but it looked like it was something threatening. Laf, the short man and another one of John’s friends appeared, trying to pull him back and tell him to just leave it alone. John wasn’t having it, took to pushing the guy hard once more.

It was a giant commotion that got security involved, and Y/N was over it. She ran out of the club, tears brimming her eyes as she thought about what exactly just happened.

John always had to ruin the night. John always had a problem with her.

John also stopped her from calling a cab, grabbing her hand just as she reached the sidewalk and calling her name.

“What the fuck, John? What the hell was that for?” Y/N screamed, wide eyed and wondering why when she was finally having a good time, he had to fuck it up.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I just- I couldn’t let him-”

“Couldn’t let him what? Touch me? Dance with me? Why? How does that have anything to do with you, John?” Nothing was connecting, there was never a time she could recall where John cared about her love life.

“He was an asshole anyways, alright? Was he really all that to you? Okay, if anything I was helping you!” If he could actually believe that, John was growing angry, too. He had no right to be, but his kept spitting out words that only made Y/N fill with rage.

“What did I ever do to you? Why? Why do you have such a problem with me?” While furious was an understatement, she seemed to be more confused as to why John got involved anyways. She was finally inching out of her shell and he just had to give her a reason to want to never leave her apartment again. 

“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. I’m drunk, I’m-I didn’t mean to do that, I just-”

“Just what?” While John was stumbling with his words, she knew better. “Being drunk is not an excuse against your actions!”

"I was just trying to make a point! He was all over you, I thought you were uncomfortable!” He narrowed his eyes, and he’d grown more angry than regretful only a few seconds before.

“Well, I wasn’t! I am a grown woman, John, I’m allowed to have fun and meet guys! I was having a good time until you had to ruin it!” 

“Jesus- I was just looking out for you! It’s not my fault you’re such a whore-”

The world seemed to stop as the two screaming voices died instantly at the sharp sound of the hit. John locked his jaw before he lifted his hand to rub his cheek. When he finally lifted his eyes, he saw Y/N pursing her lips in pure rage, a single tear streak ran down her cheek. She looked so small, fragile in a way that made him want to wrap her in his arms and promise that he would make sure that nothing ever hurt her.

He had already proven that he could never do such a thing. 

“Fuck you, John.” Y/N whispered and turned, leaving him standing alone, full of regret. 

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Laurens taglist: @alievans007 @etjt1821 @dontblinkumightmiss @hj-creates

[dessarious]

Guilt and Consequences Pt3

Okay, so I am still working on my other stories I just haven’t been able to get much down. I’m working a crap ton of overtime at the moment and I’m just fried when I get home. I’d say hopefully I’ll be more productive on the weekends but right now I’m working Saturdays and and Sundays are becoming catch up on sleep days. So sorry for the delays, but I’ll try to get back into a headspace where I don’t just want to pass out whenever I’m not at work. Oh and I think I got everyone tagged who asked but let me know if I didn’t or you want to be added.

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

The silence stretched on and Lila could only sit there. She knew the others were likely staring at her. Wondering what she’d done to make her mother react like that. She just wished she had an answer for them. Even before everything with the schools they’d never been close. Her mother pretty much only talked to her to tell her what she needed to improve. As the atmosphere became more and more uncomfortable Lila finally broke the silence.

“So… would you consider that a yes or a no?” More silence before M. Dupain cleared his throat.

“Marinette why don’t you go with Lila to pack an overnight bag? We’ll get dinner and some treats started. Is there anything you can’t eat or something you’d like to have?” It took her a moment to realize that last part was aimed at her. When she managed to look up his expression matched the gentle tone of his voice and she just got even more confused.

“No sir. I’m not picky.” Her mother rarely made it home to eat with her and even then it was always take out. She’d gotten used to left overs or eating whatever random things were in the house.

“Make sure to pack all your medications as well.” Madam Cheng’s voice sounded a little strange but when Lila managed to look up at her she wasn’t glaring and she didn’t look annoyed. She was definitely more stiff than she’d been before though.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me here anymore. I get it. Even offering is more than most people would have done in your situation.” She still had no idea why they did either. After everything that had happened to their daughter because of her they should be throwing her out, at the very least. The woman’s expression turned to one of motherly concern and it honestly made her more nervous. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had aimed that kind of look at her.

“You’re welcome here, anytime you need somewhere to go, as long as you stop all this lying. There are better ways to deal with your problems.” Lila could only hang her head and mumble another apology. While she agreed that the lying in this situation wasn’t a good idea, it normally didn’t backfire like this and she had tried other things first. Maybe it was different for other people. She heard the woman let out a frustrated sigh. “You two go on, we’ve got to finish closing up the bakery before we start on dinner.” She let Marinette pull her out of her seat and down the stairs. She was still too busy trying to understand what was happening to even consider arguing.

“Did your mom really put you on medication just to keep you in school?” She glanced at Marinette. There was no accusation in the question. More like she just couldn’t understand how someone could do something like that.

“Yes but I don’t take it. Well, except one of the anxiety meds every once in a while when I can’t sleep. As she said on the phone, she thinks I should be responsible for myself so she just assumes I’m actually taking them.” She hadn’t understood at first why her mother would work so hard to get the meds and then not bother to monitor their use. She’d come to the conclusion it was so that when the school finally called about her ‘behavioral’ issues she would have a paper trail to be able to sell them on the fact that Lila was just sick and needed special accommodations. That or she really didn’t think Lila would disobey her on this.

When they got to the apartment building Lila wasn’t really paying attention. She heard something that sounded like a cough but kept walking towards the elevator until Marinette tugged on her sleeve. When she looked over at the other girl Marinette motioned to the side and Lila saw three rather annoyed looking staff members.

“Guests have to be signed in.” She blinked at the woman who spoke, not really processing the words.

“I’m sorry, what?” The woman just rolled her eyes.

“This is a high security building Mlle. Rossi. All guests have to be signed in.” Oh, right. She vaguely remembered something about that from when they’d first moved in. She just had never actually brought someone home before.

“Sorry, I forgot. Umm… how exactly do I do that?” The woman just looked exasperated now, but the man behind the desk offered a smile and motioned them over. There was a clipboard on the desk and he handed her a pen.

“You just need to put your name, apartment number, and your guests name.” He pointed to each column in turn . She filled them out as he asked and handed the pen back. “Thank you Mlle. Rossi, have a nice day.”

“Thank you, you as well.” She could still see the disapproving look on the woman’s face as they continued to the elevator and couldn’t help but wonder how she still had a job if this was how she normally treated tennants. Personally she couldn’t remember any of the staff and didn’t really interact with them. Generally once she was in the building it was a habit to keep her head down and get to her room as quickly as possible. She’d found that the less interaction she had with people the fewer things her mother had to lecture her about. Her social interactions were always lacking in some way and she could never be certain what her mother would latch onto.

When they entered the apartment Lila noticed Marinette frowning as she looked around. She couldn’t really blame her after seeing her house. The apartment was clean bordering on sterile due to the service her mother had come in daily. There weren’t any personal touches either. No pictures, no nicknacks, nothing that said people actually lived here. She didn’t really think about it. It had been this way as long as she could remember.

“Your place is nice…” Lila actually grinned as she watched Marinette try to come up with something good to say about it. “Lot’s of natural light.” Lila let out a snort of amusement. The girl was the essence of cheerful and that was all she could come up with. It was a bit sad really.

“My room’s this way.” When they entered Marinette perked up immediately. Lila could only assume it was due to all the pictures on the walls since it was the only real difference between here and the rest of the house.

“Wow, these are amazing! Do you collect them?”

“They’re not that good. Just pictures I’ve taken to remember where I’ve been.” She liked taking pictures, especially of nature. She found it soothing and having something to look back on made her feel a little less disconnected. Marinette was staring at her in what looked like awe.

“You took all these?” Lila just nodded. “These are amazing! I’ve seen professional photographers whose work doesn’t look this good.” Even knowing Marinette was just being nice, Lila couldn’t help but bask in the complement for a moment. But only for a moment.

“So what exactly should I be packing? I’ve never done the whole sleepover thing before.” Suddenly Marinette was looking at her like she’d kicked a puppy and she couldn’t figure out why.

“You’ve never had a sleepover? Ever?” Lila just shook her head. Wasn’t that what she’d just said? “Oh my gosh! We have so much to make up for. Obscene amounts of junk food and games and movies and makeovers and ghost stories and-” She just kept going. Lila had no idea what she was rambling about and it didn’t answer her question at all. Marinette finally paused to take a breath and she was able to break in.

“Okay, but what should I actually pack?” Marinette paused to think it over. The expression on her face seemed far too serious for such a common question.

“Your most comfy pajamas, whatever you want to wear tomorrow, and a toothbrush. I’ll take care of everything else.” Well that sounded slightly ominous. Regardless, she packed what she was told along with all her medications. Dumping those in the bag got a strange look from Marinette, but she wasn’t certain why. Maybe it was just how many there were. In less than ten minutes they were back out on the street, headed towards the bakery.

“Lila!”

“Shit.” She said the word under her breath as she looked behind her. Of course it would be Alya. They’d been on the street less than five minutes, only her luck could be that bad. She tried to use her body to block Marinette but she wasn’t quick enough. Alya’s expresion turned sour as she tried to reach around Lila.

“I thought we made it clear that we wouldn’t tolerate you bullying Lila anymore!” Lila grabbed the girls wrist before she could grab or slap Marinette. That stunned her enough to let Marinette get some space.

“You touch her again I’ll break the offending appendage.” Lila didn’t recognize her own voice in that deep threatening tone, but Alya just rolled her eyes.

“This is why we didn’t tell you what we were doing. You’re too nice and let people like her get away with anything.” She wanted so badly to just slap some sense into the girl but honestly she didn’t think it would work.

“I’m not nice, and you’ll find out exactly how not nice if you don’t stop harassing Marinette.”

“But if we don’t do something she’ll just keep bullying you!” Lila could only sigh. How many times was she going to have to have this conversation.

“Marinette is not now, nor has she ever bullied me. Which I already told you.” Alya let out a patient sigh, like she was explaining something simple to a small child. Yeah, someone was going to get hit before this conversation was over.

“She’s constantly calling you a liar and trying to turn everyone against you. Why would she do that?” Yep, the kindergarten teacher tone was definitely a good way to piss her off. Lila, of course, defaulted to sarcasm.

“Oh gee, I don’t know maybe because I was lying?” Alya looked like she was about to argue but Lila just kept going. “If you had bothered to look up literally anything I said you would know that.”

“An absence of proof is not proof of absence.” It took a minute for the words to penetrate as Lila was just getting even more annoyed by Alya’s self righteous tone but when they did she had to stop herself from lunging at her.

“Are you saying that you looked up my claims, found absolutely no proof and still took my word over Marinette’s?” Her voice was soft, more because her throat felt like it was closed in rage than anything else.

“There wasn’t any proof that you were lying either.” Alya’s smug tone finally snapped something inside her.

“Have you lost your damn mind?! Jagged stone has said in multiple interviews that he doesn’t even like cats. And in what universe would my mother’s PR team not have it in the news that I do charity work? She’s a public figure Alya, anything that can make her look good would have press releases for days. That in and of itself proves that I was lying.” The girl seemed to ponder this for a moment before she sent a glare to Marinette.

“What did you threaten her with to make her agree with you?”  Knowing that she’d been right about who Alya would blame for this was a small consolation.

“Lila you need to calm down.” Marinette’s voice was soft, soothing even but she was in no mood to pay attention.

“I will not calm down! This wanna be reporter couldn’t find the truth if she fell into a river of it. You should consider a career in fiction by the way since anyone with journalistic integrity will simply laugh you out the door.” Alya was still glaring at Marinette, like all this was her fault. What was wrong with people? Marinette actually grabbed her arms and forced Lila to face her.

“Please. You really need to calm down. Just breathe with me okay? You don’t want to get Akumatized again.” Those words acted like ice water. Yes, this was beyond stupid, but it wasn’t worth that. She calmed her breathing as Marinette asked but made sure to keep a line of sight on Alya as well. There was no telling what someone like her would do at this point.

“We should head back to your house, your parents will start to worry.” She had no idea if that was true or not but she hoped it would get Alya to back off. Pretty much everyone agreed that Marinette’s parents were great people, but they were also scared shitless at the thought of pissing them off. After their talk earlier she understood why. It did the trick too. Alya mumbled something about finding out what kind of dirt Marinette had on her so Lila could stop pretending she’d been lying as she left at a brisk walk. She’d read about willful ignorance but she’d never expected to encounter it to this degree. She was starting to hope it did have something to do with Hawkmoth, but considering some of the things people were willing to believe she wasn’t very optimistic.

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[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

Two Lost Souls -ch 17

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

Words: 3447

Series Master List

Complete Master List

Series Warnings: Will contain NSFW content. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Physical, Emotional, Sexual, and Domestic Abuse. Death.  Rape, Violence, Manipulation, Drug Abuse, and lots and lots of Angst.

Chapter Warning: Slightly NSFW

By Reading you are acknowledging you are 18 years of age and older.

A sequel to Secret Studies

8 Years ago, Beckett and Oriana Harrington graduated Penderghast College.  A year after that, tragedy struck, and they haven’t seen each other since. What happens when their paths cross once more? Is it coincidence? Or is it their souls trying to find their way home?

Oriana’s POV

Oriana woke up early, 4am, slipping out of bed and grabbing some clothes. Everett was still snoring on the floor, and she didn’t want to be here when he woke up. She stopped at a bakery near her flat, picking up some fresh donuts, fruits, and coffee. She was at Beckett’s penthouse by 5 and brought the bags to the kitchen area. There weren’t any lights on and there was no movement in the house, so she knew Beckett must still be asleep. Tiptoeing back out to the living space, she saw Zephyr sleeping on the couch she’d picked out and had delivered the previous day.

She grabbed herself a coffee and some fruit before heading into the office space. Flipping on the light, she sat down in her new chair, pulling out her necklace from under her shirt and taking it off, staring at it. She didn’t quite know what to do with it. If she wore it back home, Everett would certainly see it at some point, and she couldn’t have that. She watched the metallic wildflowers sway before she heard a door open. She quickly shoved it in her desk drawer. It would do for now.

“Why are you here so early?” Beckett’s cold voice startled her. “What have you been doing? I didn’t ask you to come in this early, you’re not getting paid any extra for it.”

“I, um…” Her voice failed her as she took in his appearance. His blondish brown hair was all mussed up from sleep, he wore light blue pajama pants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips, and he had no shirt on. She couldn’t take her eyes off his ripped abs. He always had nice abs, but holy cow, this was doing something to her already.

“Um?” He demanded. “Didn’t think this would be an issue, but I guess I’ll tell the desk not to let you in unless I say so.”

“You gave me a key.” She finally looked into his eyes. His beautiful, silver eyes, which were currently lasered in on her.

He smirked, sauntering into the room and closing the door before going behind the desk. He turned her chair to face him, and she inhaled sharply. God, he smells as good as his body looks…absolutely delicious. Placing his hands on the armrests, he leaned in, murmuring in her ear. “See something you like?”

She took a shaky breath. “Yes, actually, I think the furniture I picked out is quite nice.”

“About that…” He drew his head back, eyes focused on her lips. “I said shop for the office, not shop to decorate my entire penthouse.”

“It needed color.” She told him defiantly.

“I could have provided that for myself.”

“But you didn’t.”

“You don’t live here, Oriana.” He growled. “I want you to return everything except what’s in this room.”

“You’ll thank me someday.” She breathed.

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Oriana bit her lower lip. She was ready to head into new territory, and can only hope it doesn’t blow up in her face. “Because you love me.”

Beckett blinked, clearly taken aback by that sentence. He stood up tall, his abdomen in line with her eyes now. She couldn’t stop herself from ogling again. “I love who you used to be.” He said tightly, backing away.

“I’m still that person.”

“You’re still engaged to that dick you call wonderful. It’s masochistic, and I don’t approve.”

“Approve?” She laughed shortly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I needed your approval for anything.”

Beckett scoffed. “You know what? I don’t need you today. Go home, Ori.” He whirled around, reopening the door and leaving the room.

“Wait.” She dashed after him, cornering him in the hall. “You and Zeph didn’t give me much of a chance to talk yesterday.”

Beckett shrugged, looking away. “Actually, you seem to talk way too much. Go home to your lover.” He finished with a bitterness in his tone.

Oriana’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday you were kissing me, wanting me, desperately craving me…and a few hours later you’re practically shoving me out the door. What the hell is your problem? You’re always telling me I have to come in early. I’m only doing what you’re constantly telling me to do.”

“My problem is you.” Beckett glared. “And I told you, I don’t need you today. I’m taking Zeph sight-seeing.”

“You don’t want me to answer phones calls or emails or…”

“Frankly, Oriana, I don’t want you here at all right now.”

She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to go home; she hates it there. Everett suffocates her.

“Maybe she wants to come.” Zeph appeared, yawning. “Can the two of you shut up until I get my coffee? I can’t deal with you until then.”

Beckett snickered and Oriana shot him a Look. She was originally really happy that Beckett still had Zeph. But right now, it was pissing her off, because Zeph clearly would only take Beckett’s side in everything.

“She can’t come. She’s got a busy day returning all this crap she bought yesterday.” Beckett smirked. “Although I stand by my statement. You can just go home and deal with it tomorrow.”

“You ordered food already? How long have you been up?” Zeph asked, grabbing a donut.

“Actually, I brought it.” Oriana huffed. “Thought I would do something nice, but silly me, thinking I’d be appreciated.”

“You mean Everett doesn’t appreciate you, enough? Seems like he does, the way he can’t take his hands off you.”

“Fuck you, Beckett.” She spat. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I don’t need to know. You’re my employee; I only need to know that you can follow directions. Like leaving, for example.” Beckett snarled, stepping into her space.

A loud groan came from Zephyr, his head falling back in exasperation. “Seriously, you guys? If I leave, can you just have sex already? The tension here is killing me, and it’s way too early for me to see you both attempt not to rip each other’s clothes off. And I’m kind of afraid you’re going to do it front of me anyway.”

“It’s not my fault that Oriana’s been drooling over my muscles all morning.” Beckett shrugged. “I take care of myself, this is my house, and I don’t feel the need to cover up.

She couldn’t believe the audacity this man had. He was pretty much the same guy she met as a freshman in college, except now he had more power; more money; his ego was even more inflated. Well, since Beckett needs to be knocked down a few pegs again, she really only had one decision to make.

“Ya know what?” She glanced at Zephyr. “Sightseeing sounds fun. Count me in.”

 Beckett’s POV

Beckett grumbled as they made their way to Hampstead Heath. He’d attempted to bring Zeph to one of London’s plethora of museums, but he was vetoed immediately.

“I’m not here to stay inside.” Zeph told him. “There’s plenty other places, BookBeck, a museum isn’t the most fun.”

“Depends on the person. Personally, I find the National Gallery quite enticing.”

“Of course, you do.” Oriana giggled. “Some things certainly don’t change.”

“Are you mocking me?” Beckett asked incredulously.

She put her hands up in defeat. “Not at all. I’m just saying hello to the Beckett I know.”

“Ha ha ha.” Beckett rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard Hampstead Heath is also nice, but there isn’t anything to do or see.”

“Actually, it has great views.” Oriana mused.

“Oriana, how long have you lived here?” Zeph asked.

“Um…I’m not completely sure…” She trailed off, averting her gaze.

“So, a long time.” Zeph supplied. “And, Beckett, how often were you here before you were forced to come?”

“Once or twice.” Beckett mumbled. He’d tried to come more, but Katrina would always tell him she was too busy. One time, he decided to surprise her, but when he arrived his sister was already trashed, and it ended up being quite unpleasant for them both.

“Wow, this is huge!” Zeph gasped, turning his attention back to the park they were entering. “It’s like London’s version of Central Park!”

“Way better though.” Oriana told him. “There are tons of places to get lost here.”

“Should we do it?” Zeph asked excitedly.

“Do what?” Beckett asked skeptically.

“Get lost! It’ll be an adventure!”

Oriana laughed and Beckett tried really hard to not let it affect him, but after they left his penthouse, her mood seemed to lift…she seemed different today. She was looser, more laid-back, more easy-going…the way she used to be. He couldn’t figure out what her game was. He also couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was breathtaking, even wearing a simple pair of jeans and a v-neck green tee.

“There’s one place in particular I want I bring you first…it’s a bit of a popular area, so there will probably be lots of people, but trust me, it’s worth it.” Oriana grinned.

She began leading them, and Zephyr shrugged at Beckett, following her.

“So, Zeph, I’m really sorry about yesterday.” She started.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” He replied shortly, and Beckett couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of his mouth. It felt amazing to have someone like Zeph on his side. Oriana’s missing out.

The whole thing seemed surreal. He and Oriana used to spend every minute together, but after not seeing her for so long, it felt a bit odd. And not in a bad way. But odd in a ‘I can’t believe how natural this still is’ kind of way. He’d lost everything, but somehow, after all these years, he was strolling through a large park with his best friend and the woman he loves more than anything else in the world, like it was the most common thing for him to be doing.

“Okay. Wow. I admit this is pretty cool.”

Beckett snapped back to attention, seeing they’d come to a stop on a large hill, looking down on a perfect view of the city. Oriana was beaming.

“I come here when I don’t want to feel alone. There’s lots of people, yet it’s still your own experience. And looking down at all that life…it makes me remember that I’m not actually done with mine. There are lots of people just like me, and I take comfort in that.”

“Not just like you.” Beckett muttered under his breath.

“Why do you find yourself feeling alone?” Zeph asked.

“I think everyone does, at one point or another.” She responded.

“What’s next?” Beckett piped in. He didn’t want to get into a conversation about being alone. He’s by himself far too often and wasn’t proud of it.

“The viaduct.” Oriana stated immediately. “You’re going to love it. Both of you.”

After another trek, the three friends approached a large pond, with a brick structure jutting out of the water. “The viaduct was supposed to be an entrance to an estate, but the estate was never built.” She explained.

“What a shame, it would be great space to own a home.” Beckett murmured to himself.

“Yes, well, the majority of the population disagreed.” Oriana countered. “And if it had been built, we wouldn’t be here today.”

Beckett furrowed his eyebrows, taking in her appearance. She seemed contemplated; lost in thought. He wanted to get inside her pretty head and see what she’s thinking. The three of them talked a bit more, though it felt a bit forced at times. Zeph filled Oriana in on everything he’s been up to since they last saw each other, and she was hanging onto every word of it. For the next hour or so, the small group continued walking aimlessly around, until coming to another pond, this one with a small dock leading out into the water. There were a few people swimming, and Zeph stopped short, eyes wide.

“Oh. My. God. I have always wanted to do this.”

“Do what….?” Beckett began to ask, but Zeph had already shoved his phone into his hands and taken off down the bank and onto the dock. He stared in horror as Zeph jumped off the end and into the water.

When he emerged, he pumped his fist into the air. “Woooooooo!”

“And now we have to get him out. What do you…” He trailed off again at the look of excitement in Oriana’s eyes.

“That looks like fun!” She grabbed Beckett’s hand. “We should do it!”

It took him a moment to compose himself from the strike of lightning that flew when their hands joined. “Ori, please, I’m not jumping into some pond I’ve never been to. I need to take samples and get them analyzed first, to make sure it’s safe.”

“There’s other people in the water. It’s a mixed swimming pond.”

“And maybe they’ll catch diphtheria.” He shrugged.

“You really forgot.” She spoke softly, dropping his hand.

“Forgot what?”

“How to be spontaneous.”

Before he could reply again, Oriana gave him her phone, and took off just like Zeph, leaping into the water, leaving him gaping behind her.

“Come on, Beckett!” Zeph laughed. “It feels great!”

Grumbling, Beckett walked down the dock. “You’re going to spend the rest of the day in wet clothes?”

“Well, you might have an easier time getting Oriana’s clothes off than you would mine.”

Beckett’s jaw dropped as he turned a deep crimson. “T-that’s preposterous, I wouldn’t…I mean, I couldn’t…”

“Why don’t you jump in and find out?” Oriana teased.

Suddenly feeling extremely hot, Beckett warred with himself. Something was most definitely different today. Did him knocking out Everett somehow loosen her up? Or maybe Zeph’s outburst did. Either way, as Zeph and Oriana raced around splashing each other and laughing, he set the phones down and began unbuttoning his shirt. He’d chosen a white button-down shirt with khakis today. He figured he wanted to look nice in case he ran into anyone important, but wanted to be comfortable bringing Zeph around the city.

Swallowing hard, he let his shirt flutter onto the wood. He was shaking in anticipation. He hasn’t done anything like this…well, since he was living with Oriana. He’d be stupid to let this opportunity go by. He felt Oriana’s eyes on him as he pushed his pants off next.

“Uh, it’s deep enough to jump in, right? I’m not going to land on some rocks?” He asked nervously, staring into the murky water.

“That’s all part of living dangerously, my friend! But the fact that Oriana and I didn’t scream in pain is probably a good indicator of what’s to come.” Zeph winked, nodding his head towards Oriana, who wasn’t saying anything…but her hazel eyes were still roving over his muscular body shamelessly.

Beckett dipped one toe into the water, willing himself to just jump. He met Oriana’s gaze as she cocked her head to the side.

“He’s going to wimp out. I’m heading over there; they’re playing some sort of game.” Zeph started swimming away as Oriana swam closer.

“What’s the matter, Beck? You sunburned already?”

“What?” He gasped, looking down at himself quickly. “I look perfectly normal, why…” He trailed off as she laughed.

“You might have forgot how to have fun, but I gotta say…making you blush is still so easy.”

Oh. Now he gets it. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at her. “I’m heading home. You two can come whenever.”

He reached down to collect his clothing, but suddenly Oriana was wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down into the water with a splash.

When he came back up to the surface, he was sputtering in shock at what just happened. “What the heck, Ori? I could have hit my head!”

“On what? Water?” She asked incredulously.

“You’re going to get it.” He growled and she shrieked, turning around and swimming further away from the dock, Beckett right on her heels. Finally, he caught her foot, forcing her to stop swimming and pulled her towards him, his arms holding her tightly, her lips just a breath away. She was still giggling, and it was so contagious; his grin must have been a mile wide. He felt like he’s been living someone else’s life and was finally coming back home after far too long. He forgot how lonely he’s been without her.

His eyes fell to her luscious lips, his heart pounding. God, he’s missed her. He’s missed everything about her; her smile, her warmth, her laugh…even her tears. She was his home, there was no question of that. He crushed her body into his and crashed their lips together. One of her arms snaked around his neck, while the other travelled to his ass, grinding their hips together.

“B…Beck…” She whimpered, and he groaned, feeling himself harden in an instant, all rational thought flying out the window. He needs her, needs to feel her, right here, and right now.

He unbuttoned her jeans and she gasped as his hand slipped in and beneath the waistband of her panties. She was trembling, forehead resting on his, no longer kissing him, but lost in his eyes, still clutching him for dear life. Before he dared to go further on his own, her fingernails dug into his back intensely; her breathing became erratic…and he knew exactly what that meant. It was one of her tells.

“Yesss…” Her voice was quiet and breathy as his fingers lightly reached her center, stroking once along her folds.

But they sprang apart when a loud whistle came from the shore, the lifeguard yelling something to another swimmer. And then Zeph reappeared.

“Isn’t this so much fun? I think I should move here, too. How kick-ass would that be? You’ll give me a job, right Bucket?”

“Uh…yeah, sure…” Beckett said sheepishly, feeling scrutinized under his gaze, his cheeks dusted pink.

“Did…I…did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both he and Oriana cried in unison.

Zeph stared at them and Oriana shifted even further away. “Um, there’s a pub nearby, we could…”

“Your clothes are soaked.” Beckett reminded.

“Oh, right…my…clothes…that are still on…because they weren’t taken off.”

He rose an eyebrow. “I did try to warn you about that.”

“I definitely interrupted something.” Zeph was still staring.

“You interrupted nothing.” Beckett muttered, turning around and heading back to the dock. Pulling himself out of the water, he grabbed their belongings and walked off into the grass. He couldn’t believe that just happened. They were having so much fun; it was just like old times. And then making out and fondling her in a public area, like they were the only two people there…his eyes darted to where she and Zeph were getting out of the water, chatting amicably.

How can she act like nothing happened right now? How can she act like he wasn’t touching her intimately? God, why did he do that? She’s an engaged woman. Her heart belongs to someone else. According to her, anyway, even though it was completely obvious she didn’t want Everett at all. She was shivering when she approached.

“Cold?” He asked, avoiding her gaze.

“Just a bit.” She replied shakily. I think I’d like dry clothes now.”

Beckett nodded. “We can take you home first.”

“No, that’s okay, I have a few outfits in your penthouse.” Her eyes widened, like she didn’t mean to say that.

“Why do you have clothes in his penthouse?” Zeph mused.

“Well, Beck said we’d have some late nights, so I just wanted to make sure I had something clean there. To, you know, stay presentable.”

“Where are they?” Beckett asked. This was news to him. It’s not like she’s been there a ton so far.

Oriana shrugged. “They would have been delivered yesterday, so, probably in one of the unopened boxes.

“That’s verrry interesting. Hear that Beckett? She decided to keep a change of clothes at your house. You didn’t know?” Zeph asked slyly.

He shook his head. He hadn’t had a clue she had clothes there. He wondered what else he’d end up finding in his penthouse that he hadn’t discovered yet.

“Well, Oriana, you apparently still have the best clothes, so I’m excited to see the little numbers you keep at Beckett’s. You know, maybe this home office was a really good decision. I admit I had my doubts but…sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Do you stay over often, Oriana? I wasn’t offered a second bed…”

Beckett felt the tips of his ears burning.

Oriana started coughing as though she’d swallowed wrong, and you couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off Zeph’s face if you tried.

“Yup. I definitely interrupted something.”

[cami-chats]

Too Old

Fandom: Check Please!

Pairing: Kent “Parse” Parson/Connor “Whiskey” Whisk

Warnings: Age difference (but not underage)

On AO3

From Parse: You ever feel like you're robbing the cradle a little bit? 

From Swoops: No, but that's bc my girlfriend's only like 2 years younger than me.

From Swoops: Perv. 

From Parse: You're not helping. 

From Parse: Besides, he's not THAT young. He started college when he was 20, not 18. He can legally drink. 

From Swoops: Sounds like something a pedo would say.

From Parse: Fuck you.

From Parse: But seriously, do you think I'm too old for him? 

From Swoops: Dude, I know nothing about him other than that he's in college and plays hockey (and now that he started college when he was 20). You won't tell me what he looks like, what he's studying, or which college he goes to. The 2 details I know kinda make it seem like yeah, you're too old for him. 

Kent glared at his phone and locked it. Goddammit. That's what he'd been afraid of. It's not like he felt like an old man, but Whiskey felt so young sometimes. Mostly when he mentioned homework, because the last time Kent had done homework, he'd been seventeen-- which was definitely too young. 

He called Whiskey to ask him about it, but it was only when it rang off to voicemail that he remembered there was a time difference and he hadn't even thought about Whiskey's schedule. He was in the middle of practice right now. He thought about sending a text to let him know what it was about, but if this was a conversation he wanted to have over text, he would've texted him to begin with. Whatever. It had been an impulse, anyways. And it was stupid, wasn't it? If Whiskey thought he was too old, they wouldn't have gotten together. If Whiskey had thought it was fine at first but changed his mind later, then he would've said something. Whiskey didn't exactly keep that sort of shit locked down-- he'd told Kent the instant that he put on cologne that he hated the smell. 

Kent was probably just being paranoid. 

He'd been perfectly fine with their relationship and the age difference thing until some dipshit wrote an article on Zimms and Bittle's relationship, claiming that Bittle was too young and being taken advantage of. Kent and Zimms were the same age, and Whiskey and Bittle were the same age, so if Zimms was too old for his boyfriend, then Kent was too old for his. Not that Kent really thought it was the same. Bittle was graduating soon-- he was pretty sure-- and Whiskey still had a couple semesters left. Zimms and Bittle had played together. Gone to college together for two years before anything happened. 

Comparatively, it did feel like Kent was taking advantage of a young fan. It was weird to think of Whiskey like that, but technically that's what he was: a fan. Whiskey had come up to compliment him on his game when they were in the same bar, and Kent had been tipsy enough to think it was a good idea to flirt. It had all worked out, of course, but that had been pretty damn stupid of him. 

Kent kept running it over in his mind: it wasn't a big deal-- this was different than what Zimms was up to-- maybe Kent should take a step back-- but did Whiskey give a shit?-- maybe he shouldn't worry about it. He just went in circles, only jarred out of it when his phone started to ring. "Hey babe," Kent said automatically after sliding it to answer. 

"Hey, what's up?" 

"You're the one that called me," Kent said, frowning. 

"Some people call this returning a phone call," Whiskey said dryly. "You didn't leave a message, so I figured it was serious." 

"Oh." Shit. "Um, no, nothing serious. I'd forgotten you were at practice, so I called, but it's nothing big. Spur of the moment thing, you know?" 

"It's chill. What's up?" 

"Uhh." Kent made a face at nothing in particular. "Nothing." 

"Doesn't sound like nothing." 

"Yeah, well, it's nothing, stop being a chick about it. I said it was no big deal," Kent said, then immediately winced. 

The silence on the other end of the phone was damning. "Right," Whiskey said tightly. 

"Sorry. That was- ten kinds of fucked up." 

"Yeah." 

"I'm sorry," Kent said again. 

"Whatever," Whiskey muttered. He let out a deep breath, and it crackled a little bit through the speaker. "Have a good game." 

"Will you be watching?" Kent asked. Normally he didn't feel the need to check. Any time Whiskey didn't watch one of his games, he told him in advance-- the same way that Kent watched as many of Whiskey's games as he could and told him to have a good game before all of them. 

"I always do." 

"Yeah, but I didn't know if you'd still- yeah, uh, thanks. Love you." 

"...Yeah," Whiskey said, then hung up. 

Kent brought his phone away from his face and wanted to bash his head against the wall. Whiskey didn't always say it back because he was usually in public or around his friends when they had a quick call like that, but this had felt different. Whether it was because of Kent being a fuck-up or something else, he had no idea, but he sincerely hoped it was because of him freaking out for no good fucking reason, because then it would mean that he'd be forgiven pretty soon. If it was something else, that would mean dealing with it in addition to dealing with the age difference thing that he was freaking out over. And he still wasn’t sure that he actually wanted to talk to Whiskey about it. He knew he had to, especially after the mess he’d just made of a twenty second phone call. He just. Didn’t want to. 

He tapped the corner of his phone against his head as he thought. Maybe Swoops had been right and Whiskey was too young for him, but that wasn't what ever went wrong with their relationship. If they had issues, it was because of, well, who Kent was. Not to say that Whiskey was a saint, but he was more deliberate. They didn't get in fights because of shit he said, because Whiskey didn't talk out of his ass any time he was feeling a little insecure. He locked down-- which was its own issue-- but he didn’t snap at Kent. 

Kent sighed and opened his text conversation with Whiskey. The age difference thing wasn’t the problem. He’d been due for a freak out. 

From Kent: Sorry.

From Kent: Saw an article about athletes dating people younger than them and how it was skeevy and kinda flipped.

From Kent: Still kinda freaking out tbh.

From Kent: (Swoops was totally unhelpful)

From Kent: Probably should've just said it but I didn't want for you to freak out too.

From Kent: Not that you freak out very often.

From Whiskey: I freak out all the time who tf have you been dating.

From Kent: You don't freak out ALL THE TIME.

From Whiskey: This morning I panicked because I didn't have the exact change for my coffee. I had enough to pay for it, but using another nickel instead of two pennies made it hard to breathe. Does that really sound like I'm not freaking out? 

Kent started typing a couple different times then deleted what he had. He tapped on Whiskey's contact info, then hit call. 

"Hey." 

"Did you really freak out over two pennies?" Kent asked. He should've led with something more sensitive, but he was who he was. 

"Yeah. Not my finest moment." 

"I didn't mean what I said before." 

"I know," Whiskey mumbled. "I don't know what to do when you get like that, though. Normally I hang up, and the next time we talk, you're fine." 

"If it helps, I don't know what to do when I get like that either. I just wait it out." 

"I was kind of hoping you'd have a plan of action for me." 

"I wish I had one too," Kent said, blowing out a breath. It was annoying when he acted like that, and he knew it was annoying, but he couldn't get himself to stop. It meant that every so often, they'd do this: Kent would say something shitty, things would be awkward, and after waiting a little bit, he'd apologize. 

"What was the article?" Whiskey asked, and Kent had to think back for a moment to remember what he was talking about. 

"Oh. That. It was about Zimms and Bittle. And I was thinking that we're the same age, and you and Bittle are the same age, so..." 

Whiskey snorted. "No offense, but we're nothing like them. They live, like, an hour away from each other." 

"And they went to college together." 

"Are you being weird because you regret not going to college?" Whiskey guessed. Kent brought it up often enough that he figured there was something there. 

"No. I mean, what would be the point? I'm not good at school, and I would've ended up in the league anyways. It'd be fun if we could play on the same team though. Not that you're planning on playing professionally anyways," Kent mumbled. 

"Yeah," Whiskey said, but something in his tone was off. Kent was pretty sure he was staring at the floor in a very particular way right now. 

"What?" 

"I don't think anyone would want me as a free agent instead of the draft. I chose to skip that, and..." Whiskey snorted. "I'm not Jack fucking Zimmermann. All the teams wanted to sign him on, but that doesn't happen to everyone." 

"You're selling yourself short. There have been scouts at the Samwell games." 

"Not for the NHL." 

"Tons of players work their way up to it." 

"Yeah," Whiskey said noncommittally. "You know I don't give a shit that you're older than me, right?" 

Kent wanted to say that yes, of course he had known that, but the truth was that he hadn't-- not for sure-- so he just chewed on his lip and stayed quiet. 

"I don't care about that. It's not like you're forty or something-- that'd be pretty weird." 

"Swoops said he thought it was weird," Kent said without really meaning to. It was a good thing he said it though, because he'd sort of been freaking out about it before, but after talking to Swoops, he'd gone more firmly towards panicking. 

"Isn't Swoops dating an influencer right now?" 

"Yeah, but she's only like a year younger than him." 

"Kent," Whiskey said flatly. "He's dating someone that is basically a low level model on Instagram. He doesn't have room to judge who you're dating if he's making shit decisions like that." 

"Haley's not that bad." She was pretty nice, actually. Nicer than Kent was-- not that that was saying much. 

"Yeah, well when he finds a girlfriend who's a grown ass adult with a 401k and a retirement plan, he can say I'm too young for you and I'll believe it." 

"So you don't think we're too different?" 

"We've got more in common with each other than those two," Whiskey said with a snort. 

"Yeah." Tension started to seep out of him, leaving him boneless with relief. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry for ruining your afternoon." 

"You didn't ruin anything. You busy right now or did you want to keep talking? Foxtrot invited me and Tango to a rehearsal and it was hilarious." 

"Not busy. Tell me all about actors and their shenanigans." 

"Did you really just use the word shenanigans?" 

"Um. Yes? I thought it was fitting." 

"Oof. Never mind. I've changed my mind, you're way too old for me." 

"Hey, respect your elders," Kent snarked back. 

[emblemxeno]

Xander Support Science Rebuttal/Review + How Mediocre Localization Could Change A Character (1/2)

A couple of days ago I said I would do this because I haven’t watched the videos in question in a long time, and I wanted to see if I would hold the same opinions that I do now. In short, yeah, I do. (Part 2 of this Post)

The videos in question by Ghast (going by Faerghast now) can be found here: Part 1 Part 2

You’ve all most likely seen my posts and short analyses about Fates’ writing, it’s localization, and Xander as a whole. I wanted to make this rebuttal/review, not just as a way to get my differing opinion out there, but to also provide context on how translation and localization can alter a character’s interpretation with even the slightest change, and a brief summary on how Xander was supposed to be written from the get go.

TL;DR (Though I highly recommend reading the whole thing to really understand the point I am trying to make with this series of posts):

Xander’s character was altered in the localization due to a number of changes made that either replace/remove the original context of his writing, or add things that weren’t even present in the first place. The reason why I’m doing a rebuttal against these videos in the first place is because the greater community cite these videos as the correct interpretation of Xander, with there being no acknowledgement of localization being a factor of why Xander seems so inconsistent and poorly written. Further worsening the issue is Ghast’s own reading of Xander’s character, by roping him into a few select traits, and ignoring others.

Before moving on with the meat of the review, I’d like to link some things that would be useful to read/watch when they’ll be referenced in these posts:

- Analysis of the relationship between Garon and the Nohrian siblings (aka the abusive royal household)

- Xander’s Japanese supports with Camilla and Corrin. Here is a link to the localized Fates supports in order to spot differences.

-English patched playthroughs of the JP version of the game done by Linkmstr (Pre-decision   Birthright    Conquest    Revelation) as well as a link to said patch done by a team on Serenes.

-A link to the chapters of Fates, each one has a link to the script of said chapter.

(I’ll also be using quotes from Ghast in the videos, usually marked by time stamps)

Xander Summary

Xander is an intimidating figure who is seen as a stoic and unemotional Crown Prince. In actuality, he’s merely an introverted dude riddled with trauma, and is unable to express his emotions in a “normal” way. The person who’s feared by tons of people in Hoshido is the same guy who gets anxiety during public speaking (dealing with this by imagining his audience as bunnies or carrots depending on the version) and who’s greatest fear as a child was his own father (as revealed in the Boo Camp DLC).

He’s also heavily suicidal, a result of each time having to kill his enemies weighing heavily on his heart and his psyche.

While he seems to be relatively put together, all of these aforementioned factors influence his character, and the dichotomy of appealing to his duty as Crown Prince and appealing to his emotions. Moreover, it has lead him into a deep seated denial of his father’s evil actions, trying to justify or excuse the things Garon had done, a fairly common symptom of an abused child. Not only that, but it has lead him to believe that betraying Garon is synonymous with betraying his family and all of Nohr, something he finds inexcusable and outrageous, and only breaks out of this way of thinking once he witnesses Garon become truly monstrous.

And while trying to do what’s best for his people and his family are major parts of his character, they are not the only ones, and as we see in the game, they lead to him doing things that some would see as OOC, but actually are pretty reasonable if you dig deep into what makes Xander, well, Xander.

The Beginning

Unfortunately, a lot of this is lost in localization, which preferred to make him less introverted and more... observational and witty? He’s more confrontational in the localization, but only sometimes when the story needs him to be, making him look inconsistent and badly written. He tends to preach a lot more, but ends up contradicting himself through his words and actions. Almost all of these are issues added by the localized script, and either were completely different or just plain absent in the original JP script.

And the reason why this rebuttal exists, is because the videos blame the game’s writing instead of this very faulty translation, made even worse by the fact that Ghast’s channel is popular because of story/character analyses, so not mentioning how translation can affect story telling is the first glaring issue with the support science.

The first video starts with the main issue, how Fates has character’s written well in supports, but not in the main campaign. That’s the main thing with this, so I’ll save an overview for it later.

Mistranslated Support Lines

-At 2:25, Ghast talks about Support Xander, starting off with the Camilla-Xander support. The line in question that’s referenced is how Xander deliberately cultivated the image of him being stoic and seemingly uncaring. However, this isn’t true, Xander didn’t cultivate the image in the original JP support, he just ended up realizing that was how people saw him and thought it would be too much of a hassle to change it. This fits in line with how he acts later in the story, as an introverted character, he’s ultimately non-confrontational unless pushed to the limit.

-At 7:55, the Corrin support is brought up. This is the support that is the key reason why Xander is seen as two different characters between story and supports. The line where Xander said he’s now strong enough to stand up against Garon whenever he felt like it wasn’t present at all in the original JP support. Hence, continuing on with the idea that Xander is not as confrontational as he seems, and preferred to swing his sword to let out his emotions instead.

-Ghast then goes on to discuss why there’s this discrepancy between Xander in supports and story, where Xander supposedly acts out of character by fighting Corrin in chapter 2 on Garon’s orders (at 14:31):

“For this segment of the video, bear in mind what has been established about Support Xander so far. The feats that Support xander has disclosed from his past, particularly his courageousness to engage Garon in yelling fights and pre-established love for Corrin is entirely contradicted from the offset of the game...Given their (Xander and Garon’s) relationship before the game even starts, the game provides absolutely no reason why Xander would behave in such a sheepish way to his father. Where is the bravery he was talking about before? Wht did Xander hope to accomplish by striking at Corrin? Did he want to disable her? Did he intentionally want to harm her for Garon’s sake?” 

Except that’s not true. Applying what we know with Xander being non confrontational, scared to death of his father, being all too familiar with family dying around him, etc, and this scene really isn’t too out of character. But it seems so because of the lines added in the English script.

Adherence To Select Traits

-At 16:10-18:20, he goes on to claim that Xander’s reaction to Corrin choosing to fight for Hoshido is uncharacteristic and ‘stupid’ because of the former’s pre-established observational skills, doubts of Garon, and tendency to stand against his father when he disagrees with him (all of which are more exaggerated/added in the English script).

Besides the fact that Xander wasn’t written to be someone who regularly stands up to his father in the first place, the insistence that Xander remains strictly observational and pragmatic in these scenarios is the first big issue I have with these videos.

Ghast picks certain traits and latches them onto Xander without considering others that might influence the his actions; it’s true that Xander’s awareness of Corrin’s situation might have let him come to terms with the Hoshido family wanting them back, and yes they were kidnapped, BUT they were also raised as if actual siblings for over a decade, and feelings/attachment towards one's family is hard to let go of. Wanting Xander to be more accepting of Corrin’s choice of going back to Hoshido and, to him, abandon their family and everything they’ve had, just to have him continue to have his hidden awareness/familial observation be more forward completely betrays the fact that they’re still family, and Xander as a person should be allowed to have feelings and still love his sibling. 

The point that’s apparently tried to be made is for consistency’s sake, but what good is this supposed consistency when it doesn’t make sense for a family member to just accept their sibling siding with their enemy. Ghast goes on to say that he’d rather Xander say ‘I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you and I’ll follow up on those claims about Garon, but please come back’, and that’s basically what he says, but instead of trying to understand why Xander would react the way he would he instead reduces Xander’s reaction to a childish ‘Get Bent, Traitor’. 

Xander’s dedication to his family and his country aren’t mutually exclusive, at least to him. So when Corrin decides to break ties with Nohr, Xander sees it as them throwing away their family, friends, and every good memory they’ve had. Aside from the fact that Xander’s vehement defense of Garon is a result of having an abusive/destructive childhood, the shock of and surge of emotion from Corrin choosing to, from Xander’s perspective, betray everything they’ve had together is in my opinion, a perfectly fine reason for why Xander acts like he does. Ghast says this type of read of the situation is stupid, which isn’t a valid criticism and he doesn’t even go into why he believes so, and says it’s uncharacteristic, even though it really isn’t but the localization and his own insistence on having Xander adhere to a select few traits makes it seem that way.

Misplaced Criticism

-At 18:01 ”It’s alright for Xander to continue to try and persuade Corrin to rejoin Nohr, but he ought to be able to understand Corrin’s wavering loyalty. It’s hypocritical for Xander to flagrantly and ignorantly criticize Corrin for their decision and distance himself the most despite being made out to be the closest to them” 

Why? Again this ignores Xander’s own character having thoughts and feelings of his own, but also wouldn’t it make sense for the one to be closest to Corrin to be the most affected by it, and ergo the have the most negative reaction?

-Talks about the Xander line at chapter 12 at 18:28, “Xander doesn’t make connections around the circumstances regarding Corrin’s betrayal after 5 chapters” He says this makes Xander out to be someone who has no observational skills, but in regards to what? Making connections to the reasons behind Corrin’s betrayal, leading him to question and go against his father? Well, that reasoning hinges on the fact that Xander is the person who would stand up to his father in situations like these in the first place, but he isn’t. Any lines indicating such are a result of the localization adding them in.

The criticism of Xander’s observation skills doesn’t make sense. In the context of the situation, where Xander is engaging a loved family member after they betrayed the Kingdom (which to Xander is synonymous with betraying the family), why are his observational skills being brought up? The reason why he’s engaging could just be summarized as “he’s angry and hurt that Corrin would fight their family”. A completely justified reaction to what Xander has been experiencing. But instead this is ignored in favor of criticizing Xander for not having the awareness of why Corrin betrayed Nohr, and the awareness of Garon being evil. Ghast says “Story Xander is unable to catch on that his dad is going bonkers” Simply put, it’s most likely that Xander IS aware, but keeps it locked deep down due to deep seeded denial. In chapter 27, (taken from English patch of JP version) he says as much:

Garon: Just what do you know about me...?

Xander: I should be saying that to you... Just what do you know about Father…?! ...All this time, I acted like I didn’t notice. No matter what the order, I obeyed. And that, in the end, you would return to your normal self. That’s what I believed. But, now, Father is… already…

Said denial had run so far, that it took Xander seeing Garon as a literal grotesque monster for him to finally break free. 

Xander’s Way of Thinking

-At 20:05, “While it’s true that Garon is family and Corrin is seemingly betraying that family, Xander’s supports suggest that he would at least consider Corrin’s motivations before putting a sword through her'' 1) it’s not seemingly, Corrin is pretty much betraying her family by choosing one nation over the other, made worse by the fact that Nohr is synonymous with family to Xander, making this worse 2) it’s completely possible that Xander does understand Corrin’s motivations by this point, but is simply too angry and hurt by his sibling’s betrayal to care or acknowledge. “It makes it seem like Story Xander has no critical thinking skills or has lost every ounce of empathy he has that’s established in his supports” or that this is just his reaction to these events, as I previously said? It’s not Xander lacking critical thought that’s the driving point here, he believes that Corrin going against Nohr, means that they’re going against him, their family, all of the innocent people in Nohr, everything they’ve had together. 

This includes Garon, because as a result of his upbringing, he justifies any shitty action Garon does because he’s clinging to any good thing his father has done, and desperately denies that he could be evil, because ‘how could the person that raised and cared for me be as bad as my brother/sister, who threw everything our family had together in our face, says he is. I love my sibling dearly, but asking to betray my father is asking to betray my family, my country, and my people, I can’t do that’; that’s essentially Xander’s way of thinking. Extreme, yes, but people don’t always do what’s considered the right thing just because it’s the right thing. There’s a whole slew of factors I’ve already explained as to why Xander would be hard pressed to betray Garon.

---

Anyway, this is what I have for today. There will be 2 (maybe 3?) more posts in regards to the rest of my notes. I hope you enjoyed the start of this, please leave any replies and asks and reblogs on any things you liked about this and anything you think I could improve on!

[neshabeingchildish]

League of Extraordinary Geniuses || Chapter 5

Mika, as developed in Mika Provides will be a background character, after all, I’ve decided. Check that out for a refresher or a first time read, if you wanna. It’ll highlight why she’s here, because I don’t know that I’ll be mentioning that much in this story. @kiddangers @sevenseashigh @junknstu1f @just-a-j-reallly @famousflowermagazine @verified-dumbass I am once again asking that you let me know if I’m not supposed to tag you to this. 

Android Paranoid

The first few days were quiet as they monitored the obvious confusion of androids processing things without the innate obligation to remain dutiful to their owners. Chase was working on his video game. Max was working on processing twin powers into bionic chips. Charlotte was looking over the plans for a test of intelligence unaffected by standardized privilege. This was one of the hardest things she had ever done, because she knew that even her ability and history with receiving and interpreting information had been highly influenced by social convention. Androids were better at this, but they too were built by humans who were fallible. She was mumbling under her breath when she heard Chase say, "Just make billions of tests"

"That's impractical…" she said, over her shoulder, thought a moment, then asked, "Have you got the time?"

"I'll make the time," he said, smiling brightly at her. She winked and he blushed. Max… noticed, but he felt like he and Chase had definitely had enough budding of heads already and decided to just catalog it away and keep his eye on that guy. The truth was that Max was not a very patient person. Biding his time and waiting his turn were things that felt both uncomfortable and boring to do, therefore, if he couldn’t figure out ways to get to someplace quick, the goal lost its appeal and he moved on to other goals… This had NOT been the case with Charlotte. 

Oh, he wanted it to be. He wanted to move forward, forget his emotions and never intended to pine, at all… But. He just couldn’t. Maybe she would never want to be with him, but that didn’t stop him from having to make sure that she was as happy and safe as he could from inside of her life. It didn’t stop him from falling or being in love with her and he was pretty sure that nothing would, whether or not it ever became a discussion again. He was forever wounded from the time whenever it DID become a conversation, and he sort of wished that he had handled it better at the time. He also wished that she had known better, too. He would never admit it, but a part of him had been waiting for her to come to her senses… waiting for her to see that he could be what they previously agreed that he wouldn’t be able to.

Chase threw him a glare and asked, “WHAT? What are you staring at?”

Max only realized just then that Chase had been within his line of vision while he was thinking. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not THAT good looking. I was in my own head.”

“THAT good looking?” Charlotte repeated with a smile. Max narrowed his eyes at her, but he was smirking, so she knew he wasn’t mad. Chase, on the other hand seemed quite flustered as he stammered over words and said that he was going to get back to work. 

.

After about three days, the androids began to reach out to her. Androids were used to guidance, but they had the freedom to move on… BUT, then again… These technically were only a few years old. She arranged a meeting for them and Chase and Max escorted her to the site. 

Her protege, Mika, was already there and speaking with the androids whenever they arrived. “Charlotte!” She cheered, excused herself from the androids and rushed over, “It’s been extremely hectic today. There has been multiple reports to Davenport Industries about defective androids and Mr. Davenport told me that if I don’t get you on the phone with him within the hour, he is going to shut them all down!” She laughed nervously and wrung her hands. “Donald. Davenport. Yelled at me today! Do you know what is happening with the androids?”

“I do. And, I’ll call the Dom while Chase catches you up,” Charlotte began tapping on her wrist and walked off. 

Mika smiled at Chase. She had A HUGE crush on him, but he saw her as a little kid, and she was pretty small, but he wasn’t a large person himself, and she was young, but she was extremely smart and very mature, she felt for her age and… “Oh my God, I am so sorry! I didn’t hear a word that you said!” She admitted, wincing.

“Did the sound of your fawning drown him out?” Max teased. She glared at him, knowing that her face was slightly darker with the blood rushing through her veins. “It’s like this, Loudmouth, Charlotte freed the androids to make Jamaica better, and if all goes well, she’s gonna liberate androids all over the world.”

Her face was frozen as she stared at him, processing his words and stuck in place.

“That’s not what we agreed to tell her. Now, she’s faced with having to tell on us or be an accessory!” 

“RELAX. It’s Mika. She’s not gonna tell. She knows Char’s a good person, she has the hots for you, and she’s like… if I had a little sister who annoys me as much as my twin sister. When she snaps back to reality, she’ll deal with it.”

“She shouldn’t have to deal with it, because it was supposed to be between the three of us,” Chase said through his teeth before scanning Mika. “She’s in shock. Are you happy now?”

Max rolled his eyes and whispered to Mika, “Chase thinks you’re the smartest non-bionic girl he’s ever met…”

“WHAT?” She said. Max was about to repeat the lie, but she continued, “CHARLOTTE HAS BASICALLY UNPLUGGED THE ANDROIDS?”

“Basically,” Max said with nonchalant confidence and Chase said reluctantly. 

“Hooooooooh my God…” Mika said and waded through nothing in front of her but tense air to make her way to a seat. 

“Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her,” Max said. Chase just fumed, but a call was coming through, so he walked off too while Charlotte was coming back. Max would have to explain this Mika freak out.

Chase answered the call and it was Donald. “Chase! Thank GOD I reached you!”

“Mr. Davenport… is there an emergency? I’ve sort of went on a spontaneous trip with some friends…”

Donald laughed for a bit, then sobered up and said, “Oh. You’re serious. Okay. Well, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to cut it short. I need you to go to Jamaica and oversee an incident that Charlotte has.”

“Oh? Yes. Sure. I can do that. No problem…”

“You’re in Jamaica, aren’t you?”

“Charlotte is one of very few friends I have and everyone knows this,” Chase said.

“Well, she really screwed the pooch with her most recent launch of android models. Businesses are threatening to withdrawn MILLIONS from us because of it. All of the droids are defected and I tried to shut them down, but can’t. You’ll have to figure out a way.”

“What if there isn’t a way?” Chase asked.

“There’d better be. Or the Smartest Woman in the World will have to get off of her pedestal.”

“What if they aren’t defected? If they’ve just decided that they shouldn’t have to be slaves…”

“They’re androids, Chase. We decide for them with a few buttons and wires. Now! Fix Charlotte's mistake and honestly, we might need to rethink you spending time with her.” Chase furrowed his eyebrows, forced a smile and hung up. 

It was gonna be a hard time when Mr. Davenport realized that he was in on this. 

.

Davenport Industries lost A TON of money from this, but Charlotte didn’t seem the least bit worried about Davenport ruining her in response. In fact, she seemed pretty settled that she was about to become very popular and well respected for this. A lot of the businesses in Jamaica were being sold off to other companies and  many resorts and such were cutting their losses. The idea of islands full of unpredictable androids was terrifying. That was much scarier than possibly going into a bad neighborhood and being treated like an outsider. Tourists started fleeing. Expats started reconsidering. Charlotte started rebuilding. 

There were androids trying to figure out their purpose, now that they could, and this was a beautiful place to figure it out. But… also… They all had numerous skills. And they required some maintenance, but Charlotte and Mika made rounds speaking to elders and politicians and citizens to see what things they might be able to help with and find androids that were willing to help out in exchange for help with their maintenance.  

After some of them found work and others boarded the ship back to the mainlands, to where Charlotte promised to help them out, Chase used this as a time to convince Mr. Davenport that it was good for business to take credit for this turnaround.

That whatever issues they had with the androids, He could say that he made the situation better and Charlotte would remain out of the narrative and continue to fix this for him. “I know losing money is tough, but you’ve got so much already and well… Do you want to lose all that money AND your reputation?” When all else failed, Chase knew he could probably intercede on Charlotte’s behalf with Tasha… but, Davenport agreed that it was better not to draw more attention to the failures and to quietly fix this. 

Charlotte was unbothered. Jamaica was on the verge of healing and the androids on the ship would be able to go wherever they chose to. 

Max and Charlotte were relaxing whenever Chase returned from his dealings with Davenport. “You two look at ease.”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Max asked. Charlotte just made a face. 

“I feel like we got lucky with this. Until we’ve been able to find placements for the androids, should we proceed with setting more free? Like… can we logistically pull it off?”

“We are the people who can logistically pull off anything,” Max said. “We’ve got the smartest man, the smartest woman and an extremely smart, handsome, powerful superhuman. We’ve all had moments where nobody else but us was gonna figure out what to do. With our combined strengths and intellects…”

“We’ve got androids in the process of freeing other androids either remotely, or headed for missions,” Charlotte said smiling. 

“Have we forgotten about the hysteria of humanity?” Chase asked.

“We’ve got stuff in the process of combating that, too…” She pulled up a hologram from her wrist of all of the wonderful progress that the Jamaica androids were making in helping things. Mika was collecting hours and hours of positive footage in the event that opposition began to voice opinions.

Chase sat down and relaxed with them. Max passed him a glass, which he suspiciously looked at. “It’s a virgin daiquiri, Dude.” Chase accepted it, knowing that Charlotte would stop him if it wasn’t and took a sip. It was pretty delicious. Max picked up his own glass and lifted it, “To…”“Us,” Charlotte said. Both of them smiled at her, having very different imaginings of what “us” was, but agreeing, nonetheless. “To us!” They said and clanked glasses.

.

It took a few weeks for things to get the level of hectic that they expected. Chase had gone back to Elite Force. Max had gone back to T Force. Mika was almost wishing she was back in Danger Force, but GOD, being android liaison was an assignment that she had not anticipated receiving. Then again, it was giving her an opportunity to both show her linguistics expertise and also her political aspirations. 

Before she went to college, she knew a couple of languages, but she wanted to learn more of them. She initially wanted to be a global superhero. Charlotte was. Max was. Chase was. She knew some pretty powerful people thanks to this job, but whenever she became Dystress’ sidekick and Charlotte’s pupil, Charlotte helped her to realize that putting herself directly in danger wasn’t the only aspect of heroism and that people with minds like theirs could save the world from a desk if they worked hard enough and felt passionately enough. 

Because of that, no matter where they went or relocated, the first thing that she and Charlotte did was get desks. It was a little bit of a ritual, a little bit of a reminder. That no matter what role they would work, they’d be heroes because of their great minds and the greater good that they believed in. 

Mika was at her desk whenever she heard the loud sound of something coming towards them. She rushed out of her office and saw what she could only guess was a... TORPEDO??? It was coming right for them and all she could do was cover her eyes and SCREAM! 

The scream sent a huge wave towards the thing that she simply just knew for a few moments was about to make it explode right in her face, but instead it sent the torpedo back from whence it came and blew up the jet that launched it. Fiery wreckage fell into the water and she covered her chest with both hands in terror and shock. 

She heard some of the bystanders speaking in patois and debating on what they had just seen. She answered to let them know that they were attacked, but were safe, for now. They hadn’t expected her to be able to sound like them. She was very clearly not from there, even though she tried to fit in and she knew that at least a few had to have seen her use her superpowers. 

“Charlotte, we have a huge problem. Someone just tried to attack the android safe house, and I’m pretty sure that Shoutout killed them.”

“Are YOU okay, Mika?” Charlotte asked.

“I’m... shocked. Who would do this? A super villain?” Mika wondered.

“I wish. Super villains are easy to fight. This was very likely the government, or some sort of agency. See what androids you can round up to go on a search and rescue. I’m on my way back.” Charlotte lowered her head and muttered an affirmation. “You were right. You are right. And you will fight for what’s right, and you will win.” Moments later, she sent texts to Max and Chase, just to let them know.

Both of them arrived roughly the same time. Max with Billy and Chase with Bree. Bree and Billy looked at each other, then, before anyone could say anything, they were in a competition. Max catalogued the thought that whenever non supes were less terrible, they could create some sort of games where bionics verses supers. Charlotte walked out to her jet to see them, still in their hero suits and with nothing additional. “What are you two doing here? You should get as far away from this failure as possible.” She had one bag with her, either like she was going on a very short trip, or she didn’t expect to make it back.

“I don’t believe that you think this is a failure,” Max said, shaking his head. “You freed androids all over the globe in a matter of weeks.

“And somebody sent assassins to blow them up. I could’ve gotten a 20 year olf kid killed.”

“Mika’s not gonna die. She’s too smart!” Max said, trying to play off his own worry. “Come on. Let’s get into it. I resigned from T Force to help you.”

“You resigned?” Chase asked.

“Yeah, yeah... I know. Irresponsible and unthinkable, yadda yadda...” Max started.

“No... I quit too. I... had to see this through.” He reached for one of Charlotte’s hands and Max reached for the other. “To us,” Chase whispered and both of them squeezed her hands before they headed in to make sense of what had happened to Mika in Jamaica.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Persona Q2 Problems: Lore-Summoning Discrepancy

Ok, so this is something that’s been bothering me for a VERY long time, it was something that caught my attention back when they were just advertising the game (if anyone is wondering, it was how the cognition worked in this game…and that questioned snowballed to say the least into what this was), but I wanted to wait till the game came out to talk about it (took really long cause I wasn’t sure how to approach it, I mean this thing came up as about 7ish pages in GoogleDocs so like....yeah 8U lotta writing). 

Before I begin, yes I know there are different ways to summon persona. Yes they can coexist in the same series, that isn’t the issue. The issue is how P5 and onward’s lore has been handled. I also wanted to do a complete replay of Arena, Ultimax (esp this one cause it’s a bit funky with the DH and red fog), and PQ1 buuuuuuuuuuuuuut due to events (aka me working despite Corona happening), I didn’t get around to it yet. So consider this a “version 1″ post, with the possibility of there being a “revised version” later. I also won’t really touch on P1/2 much (I’ll bring them up a few times), not because they aren’t important, but because this mostly pertains to PQ2 and the games associated with it.... as well as my sparse knowledge on P1/2 (so I’m sorry in advance if I mess something up while talking about those two games ;w;). We also aren’t talking about P3D, P5D, Royal or Scramble (maybe I’ll include Royal/Scramble in the possible revised/add on/sequel post to this but not now….cause spoilers….and PQ2 came before those so I’d rather focus on what built up to it rather than what comes after).

Also yeah some of this will contain a theory (the theory parts is me trying to reconcile canon and it’s at the end of the post, the rest is me pointing at a hole in the canon/lore tho.... so no this isn’t a glorified theory post, I’ll point out when I’mma enter my minor theory). Anyway, under the cut cause length! 8U:

So first we’re gonna start off with a question. At one point my bf asked me “What dictates why the characters summon the way they do in their games?” To which I replied, after thinking about it for a decent minute, “Setting......maybe with some god interference but it’s usually cause they created that setting, so really it’s just the setting.” If we look at all the games, they all summon things a bit differently (P1/2 being the closest in similarity, with P4 being the closest to them among the newer titles), but what also is different in each game is the setting. 

P1 does a Jojo summon cause of a Parallel world, P2 does Jojo poses thanks to the rumors, P3 uses evokers (but otherwise they can just make it appear if they concentrate hard enough, or if you are a VR attendant then you use cards) thanks to the Dark Hour (DH), P4 uses cards (but like P3, can sometimes just summon without manifesting a card similar to P3’s evoker-less summons and P1/2 summons) thanks to the TV World (TVW), and P5 uses their masks thanks to the Metaverse. 

So next (2) question(s).....What would happen if you take one team and put them in another teams’ world? How would they summon their persona’s then? Well.....it depends on the setting, but spoiler for the rest of the post....they would either use cards/no cards (ala P4 style, from here on I’mma just say “card style” but keep in mind cards may or may not be utilized), or have a PT outfit/mask summon (aka P5 style). OR, if they are struggling and have an evoker on hand, then they’d use an evoker (but not if it’s in the Metaverse). So to use an evoker, they’d have to struggle with summoning in a P3ish type area (which keep in mind is similar to a P4 type area), and if they aren’t struggling then the default would be P4 type summoning (I mean they could still use the evoker if you want, but the card style is the default tbh). Oh yeah there’s a lot to unpack there. You see, P3/4 can exist together without issues, P5.....can’t.....with either of them…..At least not without certain rules being established in a setting, and then ALL THREE having to follow those rules. (Tbh it feels like the P5 era/PQ2 specifically, they seem to prioritize iconography over logic. Aka “Well P3 used evokers because they are P3!” rather than looking at the implications of the world they are utilizing and instead prioritizing something the audience will recognize rather than following the rules they have built.)

Ok so I know I just threw a ton of facts at you, so let’s backtrack and explain how I know these are facts by going through the games (cause I know you can’t just take my word for it)!

Now, how do P3/4 work well together? It’s simple.....the DH and TVW are similar (TVW is a more...”potent” DH and makes it easier to summon things), well similar in feel as Arena states:

Ok so they are similar in feel, and tbh the means of being able to summon a Persona is similar too! P3 kids don’t NEED evokers, it’s proven that characters can summon a Persona without a need of an evoker in both the DH and Real World (ex: Labby in Arena when escaping the lab, Mitsuru in The Answer flashback, Fuuka in Arena iirc, Takaya all the time in P3, Chidori when her Persona tried to kill her, and possibly Tatsuya/other P2 characters prior to the rumors going rampant during the P2 game), HOWEVER it’s very hard to do so. It usually requires intense concentration, or a rush of emotion or a life/death situation (which all examples fall under one or both). The evoker is designed to help facilitate this life/death feeling (*cough* tho it takes the shape of a gun cause Mitsuru thought it’d catch Akihiko’s attention*cough* I mean Koro doesn’t need it being a gun so the shape could be whatever they just chose a gun so they could seduce Akihiko 8U). But regardless, the evoker is a man made tool that helps one summon a Persona (aka creates an artificial focal point), but it’s not a natural focal point made by the user (ie, card, clutching your head/no card/possibly P1&P2 style, or P5′s mask), so really anyone can use an evoker. (one more side tangent since we’re on focal points, as for how P4 can have two different ways of summoning, ie card/no card, it could just be that the TVW allows different forms of a natural focal point to form, either via thinking of summoning the Persona, or having your mind form a physical card in front of you, so the setting of the TVW gives a choice to the user)

Now remember when I said that the TVW is a DH that’s easier to summon Personas? Or that if a user isn’t struggling then the default is the card/P4 style summoning and not the evoker? Well Arena showcases how easy it is to summon in the TVW:

So there we go, it’s easier to summon in the TVW than the DH. Can’t argue with that! The reason is probably because DH is a layer on top of the Real World, so it’s closer to reality, while the TVW is closer to the Collective Unconscious/aka CU (aka the TVW is an alternate world, rather than a camera filter like the DH is), so that could explain why it’s easier. 

So what have we established so far?:

DH and TVW are very similar, but TVW is probably more is closer to the CU than the DH (while the DH is closer to reality), which makes it easier to summon in the TVW. 

Evokers can be used by anyone because they are a man-made tool, but they aren’t natural ways of summoning like show cased in P1/2/4/5. 

P3 cast can summon Personas like P4 cast, and theoretically vice versa is probably possible if they ever gave the P4 cast evokers.

Now from Arena, we will go to PQ1, then Ultimax, then briefly on P4D before we get to P5. (I’m doing PQ1 before Ultimax because I’m doing the it in the order of the JPN release not the US release, and no I’m not counting the arcade Ultimax release 8U)

So let’s look at PQ1. Now from my memory....I don’t recall them really talking about the P3 cast specifically not being able to summon their personas without their evoker in the PQ1 world. Like they talk about their differences in summoning, but I don’t think the P3 kids tried to summon without their evokers. And the reason I bring this up, because we could probably say this is a discrepancy too, is because the P4 kids still use their card style, which means the PQ1 world is similar to the TV world, where it’s easier to summon via using the cards. And since the P3 kids can use the card style, in a setting that allows card styles…..that means they could summon the same way the P4 kids can in PQ1! But the P3 kids don’t have the same thought process as they did in Arena, where “oh we summoned our personas without our evokers! Only just thinking about it!” And like....that’s a red flag....BUT, as I said before, evokers and cards can exist at the same time. In Arena/ Ultimax the human P3 users (minus maaaybe Junpei) use their evokers when doing a finisher. So we could just chalk it up to them being used to it out of habit. It also helps that Arena was released not long before PQ1, so we know they can both exist at the same time thanks to prior knowledge. So like yeah there’s a tiny issue here, but nothing glaring or a very big deal, it’s just them avoiding addressing something rather than creating a contradiction. Maybe in a remake they’ll add a line saying “huh that’s weird, still gonna use my evoker cause we’re used to it.” XU And it’d be all good.

Now Ultimax is a little.....more concerning. Technically there’s a dark hour....but you can summon without your evoker (and also they call the Fake!Dark Hour F!DH taking place in the “real world”):

Now I can’t remember the rest of Ultimax to that specific of a detail, so I dunno if they 100% explain why/how the F!DH it’s easier to summon than the DH, but they really seemed to hint at the red fog in these early scenes (where I rewatched to get the screen grabs), with it having some influence and possibly being the culprit behind the anomaly (I’d say the same thing for the TVW, but Teddie says Shadows have been there since forever, and Izanami only found the TVW not created it, she did bring the fog, so it’s possible the fog isn’t what dictates summoning in the TVW just TVW as a place, but in Ultimax the combination of the red fog and the F!DH makes the setting more palpable like the TVW rather than the original DH. So yeah F!DH needs special fog to work, but TVW doesn’t really need for summoning to exist it seems). There’s also the fact...Kagutsuchi is also there and his power might also have something to do with this cause, remember at the beginning I said sometimes there’s a god messing with the place to make that setting viable for summoning Personas? Yeah that’s probably what’s going on. Red Fog+Special DH+Kagu’s influence=TVW levels of card/natural summoning. Not the cleanest, but hey they at least tried giving us a reason! I’m at least happy for that! ;w;

So after briefing on the small issues (or just plot questions with PQ1/Ultimax), now for P4D. P4D it’s possible to summon your persona like in the TVW, but you can’t fight. So you instead dance to defeat your enemies.... So the area is similar to the TVW, BUT it has special rules (implemented by the god, so yeah a little god influence on the setting, but still the setting nonetheless is what dictates the summoning). Yeah that’s it, but it just strengthens the setting dictates stuff. 

So again, to reiterate what we know:

If a place is like the TVW, then card summoning is the default. 

DH and TVW are similar, but DH is a….”less palpable” TVW (probably cause it’s farther from the CU), so while card summoning is possible, it’s better to use the tool/evoker to help you. 

The F!DH, PQ1 world, and Midnight Stage are all similar to the TVW so card summon is the default. 

Evokers can be used in card summon settings, but they aren’t needed. 

Anyone can use an evoker

So....let’s get to P5. P5 has the Metaverse, which has A LOT of distortion and cognition. I mean it’s possible that P1-4 have some cognition, but the Metavers is just…..there’s an abundance! Anyway, we know that P5 has outfits because it protects the user against the world (kinda like the TVW glasses, but unlike those, they aren’t a tool anyone can just.....use. Teddie makes the TVW glasses, PT outfits come with the summons). But they only get their cool outfit once they obtain their personas (either via fully or partially awakening their Persona, the persona has to at least be awakened). Thus the Persona is connected to the outfit, and the outfit is connected to the environment/setting. I should note that unlike the above screenshots, which are explicitly stated in the lore, this is implicitly stated instead. Something that isn’t outright said, but it’s backed up via consistency and repeating it (also this is the first consistent thing I found in P5! Yay! ;w;)

Anyway, it makes sense right? And without the need for an evoker (which...causes issues thanks to that world’s rules on guns), it seems that the natural way for summoning in a Metaverse-like setting, is a mask summon.

Ok. Now what’s the issue with PQ2?! 4-5ish pages in and still no answer I know. Well the answer is all three can’t exist at the same time. P5 can’t compliment either P3/4. Either P5/4 has to adapt to P3’s way of summoning, P5/3 have to adapt to P4′s way of summoning (aka everyone needs an evoker or everyone card summons), or P3/4 have to adapt to P5 (aka everyone gets an outfit and mask summons).  And here’s why:

We know P3/4 characters in a TVW like place can summon their personas like P4 kids. So it doesn’t matter what game you are from, if you are in the TVW you summon like the P4 kids. P5, if one has a persona in a Metaverse they should have an outfit, because P5 vanilla establishes that (again it’s implicit but nonetheless it’s established). So P3/4 kids should get an outfit if they were in the Metaverse because it’s the only logical thing that makes sense (aka this isn’t confirmed by Atlus, but by following the logic of their lore, the explicit content, and the implicit content, it leads to this conclusion). 

The issue is…. PQ2 tries to apply DH’s, TVW’s, and the Metaverse’ rules all at the same time.....that doesn’t work. While DH and TVW complement each other, TVW becomes the default if the two are combined. “But Silly you said that P3 cast can use Evokers in the TVW” Yes! But you see PQ2 doesn’t understand that....Because..... Minato couldn’t summon his Persona when he lost his evoker and had to rely on Aigis the entire time:

From what I can find, he’s never shown summoning his persona (even in a life/death situation, which is also odd in and of itself and a whole other issue) during this time. I don’t think it’s ever mentioned it’s because he’s tired, just because he lost his evoker. Except this shouldn’t be the case, because P4/5 can summon just fine WITHOUT an evoker, so an evokerless summon should be possible. And that’s the issue with PQ2 that PQ1 avoided, PQ1 didn’t call attention to this, while PQ2 made this a plot point and...well...made a really big plot hole (and a side plot hole with the whole life/death thing).

 Then there’s the DH and the Metaverse. Now Atlus was trying to fix the gun and evoker issue that well…..was created because of….(what is what got this post rolling) “Cognition.” Cause the Metaverse is like “If the gun looks real then it’s perceived as real! Even if it’s a fake gun.” And well….evokers are real guns who have been hollowed out (in english releases they changed it to fakes tho, but they are actually real guns). And well evokers and the Metaverse don’t mix well, and we’d have a lot of headless SEES. So Atlus tried to be like “Oh it just doesn’t work here!” But…….that reasoning doesn’t work, because the PT still have their outfits, and Mona is still in mascot form, which exists because of….you guessed it…”cognition”. And because of all that it leads to these questions:

Does this mean there’s a specific quantity of Cognition that needs to be met for there to be outfits but for fake guns not to work?

So how can there be enough cognition to dictate that they can have outfits but NOT guns?

How can Mona still be in his cognitive cat form at the lobby, but the rest of the team reverts back to their normal clothes despite both being connected to? He’s only ever in that form when the other teams are in their PT form (only time he isn’t is in PQ2’s lobby, and the early PVs of P5 which never appeared in the game)

Why doesn’t the P3/4 cast have PT outfits, despite the fact having a persona in a cognitive world indicates a PT outfit (at least implicitly via P5 vanilla)? 

Basically how is it that the P5 Kids are the only ones that seem to be affected by the Cinema’s World Cognition but no other groups are? Answer, there is no answer, it just doesn’t make any sense! And that’s just P3 and P5!

Now we have Metaverse vs the TV World. While they are both natural means of summoning, they can’t coexist at the same time. They are like night and day, they can’t exist at the same time in the same place. If there is that much cognition in the Cinema world, then everyone should get an outfit! Otherwise they’d just use cards! You have to choose one!

“But Silly! What if it’s how they obtained their personas? Like maybe the way P5 got theirs is why they are special?” And…...that’s the thing dear reader….that’s not the case. Because let me introduce my Smoking Futaba Cannon! You know what Futaba has in common with the P4 group? THE SAME KIND OF AWAKENING! Her awakening is different from EVERY OTHER P5 CHARACTER! Her awakening is the same as the P4 kids! She accepts her shadow, and gets her persona! But do you know two things are different between Futaba and the P4 kids? 1) The setting, and 2) She gets an outfit! :0 Oh dear, she gets an outfit….and…..the only thing different from the P4 kids is the setting? Wow it’s almost as if….the setting dictates how you summon a persona! :D So because Futaba, who’s awakening is a P4 awakening, gets an outfit. Then ALL P4 kids, who have a P4 awakening, now get an outfit when they are in the Metaverse! But wait! Remember how P3 was able to easily change to the P4 style of summoning? Well since P3 is similar to P4 in this sense, and P4 is similar to Futaba, who has a PT outfit…..then P3 would get an outfit as well! You get an outfit! You get an outfit! EVERY PERSONA USER GETS AN OUTFIT! 8D 

So what do we know now?

DH and TVW are similar, but if combined then the TVW rules overrule the DH rules

The DH seems to be closer to reality, while TVW and Metaverse seem to be closer to the UC which is why it’s easier to summon in the latter two.

The F!DH, PQ1 world, and Midnight Stage are all similar to the TVW so card summon is the default. 

TVW and Metaverse can’t coexist at the same time (one has to overrule the other)

Evokers most likely can’t work in the Metaverse the same way they can in DH or TVW. 

Evokers can be used in card summon settings (aka TVW) tho, but they aren’t needed. 

Anyone can use an evoker (or have Teddie glasses 8U)

Only Persona users (either fully awakened or partially) can obtain a Metaverse/PT outfit.

Awakening doesn’t define how you summon Persona, the setting does (see Futaba vs P5 and compared to P4).

Because of Futaba, P4 kids should get outfits in the Metaverse.

And because of Arena and how the P3 kids have the same summoning in the P4 setting, it goes to say they’d also get outfits in the Metaverse too.

If reverse engineer this, then that’d mean P5 kids would get cards in a TVW-type setting (or would have to use evokers in a DH type setting).

I spent way too much time on this

It all comes together! Nice and neat! Arena establishes that you get a card summon when you are in a setting like the TVW, and P5 establishes that Persona users get PT outfits in the Metaverse (with Futaba showcasing  it doesn’t matter how the awakening goes down you still get an outfit, which applies to P3/4). So, if the setting is like the Metaverse, they get outfits. If the setting ISN’T like the Metaverse, BUT INSTEAD, like the TV world, they do card summons. There the lore is nice and neat and clear cut!

…..EXCEPT! PQ2 …...just….makes no sense. ;w; It messes with all that is good and neat. ;w; And why? I don’t know! I can only think that, again, they chose the iconic looks of each game over the lore’s logic. Even if they were to say Enil made it so that the three types of settings could exist at the same time, it’s just…..too messy and wishy washy, and still doesn’t logically make sense (because of everything explained above). You can’t just mix water and oil! It’s just easier to choose a Metaverse or TVW type setting. 

Now how do we fix PQ2? This is something Atlus can fix in a re-release on like the Switch, and it shouldn’t be too bad depending on how they approach it. But before I get to that I’m going to explain a theory, this theory makes it easier to break down the different settings, and thus gives Atlus a nice binary choice.

My theory is that there’s a cognition spectrum in these settings. Real life has the lowest to non existing cognition, the P1/2/3/4/4U1/4U2/4D/Q1 are all on the “low cognition” side (there’s some but there’s not a lot) while the Metaverse is “high cognition” (aka there’s a lot). Like here’s a rough (aka not 100% accurate, it’s just a general idea) depiction of what I mean:

Again it’s just a general idea on where they fall in terms of high and low cognition. P5 is obvie a new entry with us now exploring high cognition, which can lead to maybe a couple cool things. Maybe different places on the high cognition spectrum give us different ways of summoning too (give me a sec for a side tangent to explore that concept). Here’s an example, we have one high cognition plane called the “Metaverse” and another one called “Uverworld.” In the Metaverse you get a PT outfit, and summon with a mask. In the Uverworld, instead you take on your Persona’s appearance, either Digimon Frontier style or Digital Devil Saga style. We could say the Uverworld has even more cognition/distortion than the Metaverse and that’s why it’s different. And if any persona user from P1-5 were to summon their persona in the Uverworld, they’d summon it the same way as the Uverworld Persona users. And the Uverworld Persona users would summon the same way as say P4/5 depending on if they were in the TV World or Metaverse. This is how we can keep the lore consistent.

Now how does this high and low cognition apply to PQ2, and how could it have fixed it (and still could if Atlus makes these changes in a remake/re-release)? Well basically….they’d have to choose between a TV World type setting or the Metaverse, and have all three teams adjust accordingly! And they can either do what I call low asset route or a high asset route (which coordinate with low and high cognition respectively). 

A low asset route, would’ve worked better for the original release on the 3DS (but I don’t recommend this for Switch re-release tho). It’d be that the PQ2 world operates like the TV World, everyone uses cards. That’d mean no one would get PT outfits (so less assets to make for the devs, and yes this includes P5 kids). Morgana, however, would have to remain in cat form (which shouldn’t be a problem, if we can give a dog a knife we can give a cat a knife 8U you can even have his character stats reflect something similar to Koromaru for the meta too!). P3 could still use their evokers if they want too! P5 the kids would probably crush the cards doing a similar pose they’d make if they had a mask, but tbh PQ doesn’t really show the characters in battle so we wouldn’t really need to worry that much. 

Or we could go with a high asset route (which I recommend for a re-release), in which there’s high cognition, aka the Cinema world is more like the Metaverse. Everyone would get an outfit, and cause it’s the metaverse you can introduce a gun mechanic into PQ2! It’d require more assets, making outfits for all the characters (tho keep in mind Mona should transform back into a cat and out of his outfit in the lobby like everyone else!) Which we’d probably really only see in cutscenes rather than battle. While this could complicate some scenes (such as Hamuko dressing up as a police officer-wait that scene already doesn’t make sense considering P5’s lore-no no stay on topic DX), the rewrites wouldn’t be as as if you took the low asset route (which would work if thought of from the beginning but….yeah). It’d just be a few convo lines, and like a scene or two. One big thing they could add is adding the gun mechanic (they can even add a fun convo with the P3 kids saying it’s hard getting used to the new summoning method). Fans would love to see outfits for P3/4 kids, lore would make sense, you could have funny conversations, new combat system. Def a thing people would love to see added into a re-release! Plus it gives it more of a P5 flair, and considering this has P5 as the main focal point it fits! You can even say that the 3DS ver is still canon, but it was an incorrect recollection of a character’s dream, which could explain the inconsistencies I have mentioned before. 

Oh and Minato/SEES can still carry their evokers in both scenarios, but Minato just gets tired from all the fighting and can’t summon his Persona anymore cause he ran out of mana. There that fixes that scene.

So there you go, PQ2 fixed (well summoning lore wise), Persona lore intact, and even a little guideline thrown in to help keep the lore intact! I know I didn’t go into how to rewrite every scene to adjust these changes….I could but not today. 

Anyway I dunno how else to end it but…...I hope PQ1/2 can be ported to the Switch (or another console as well?) soon! I just really want a dub of PQ2 ;w; orz

[tacittherapist]

((HS2 Spoilers under the cut!))

((For all the shit I give the epilogues, it does have its moments. Specifically highlighting this bit of dialogue here: ROXY: you think you choice mattered so much that no one elses could measure up? ROXY: n then what ROXY: did u get what u wanted? ROXY: did your life end and the points got tallied and you came out on top or like what? ROXY: still p much seems like were movin to me ROXY: and you sure dont seem like ur winnin so wheres all this good shit you got that you gotta go around handin out apologies for? ROXY: also damn dude while were at it!! ROXY: u forgot to actually say sorry in that apology! JOHN: no, i didn’t — i just meant... JOHN: i’m sorry for fucking up your life, or making it not— ROXY: i like my life!!! ROXY: i mean it aint perf and i got my share of fuckups n mistakes in there but you dont get to tell me its fucked up ROXY: or that it isnt real or somethin ROXY: its mine!

First: criticism. The writers wield this little section like a crude cudgel. They use it to underscore the weight of ‘canon’. This is the ‘candy’ timeline, so it supposedly ‘weighs less’ than the ‘meat’ timeline, but its characters still have meaningful thoughts and emotions. Here, John supposedly makes a choice that supposedly invalidates a bunch of supposedly important events, and Roxy here blows it all out of the water by claiming she made these choices too and that part of the blame rests with her in the direction her life has taken... which is total dogshit used to justify a bunch of really overt swings in character thematic. Continued here: ROXY: you wished i was one way the whole time we were married ROXY: but i wasnt ROXY: but now that youre all convinced ur the only real boy in a crowd o puppets ROXY: here i am bein me just like you ordered only i did it without your help ROXY: widen ur zoom my man!! ROXY: im not actin like this now because you want me to or bc you dont want me to ROXY: i was bad at standin up for myself then and im learnin to be good at it now ROXY: ive got my own self actualization train ROXY: ur just pullin in to one of my many roxy figures some shit out stations right as i built it JOHN: but... JOHN: you were never like that before i... ROXY: dude ROXY: where tf do u get off trying to decide what is or isnt me being “like me” enuff ROXY: do u think ppl stay the same their whole damn lives or what JOHN: you’ve really never felt like anything about our lives here was... off? ROXY: off from what exactly?? JOHN: the way things should be? ROXY: what does that mean???

Roxy here argues that there is no ‘one right way to be’ as a half-baked wink to the audience that all this gross mischaracterization is intentional and that it diverges so grossly from the established character arcs in order to demonstrate that nothing is set in stone. While technically true, this also makes for some pretty terrible writing.

Roxy was a caring, almost too involved individual before the epilogues. Her ditching Calliope for John and this messy marriage business and just letting Jane warp into a full-blown dictator makes no sense, even couched within the idea that ‘characters change.’ Yes, characters change, but there’s generally a reason for it! And not a shitty deus ex machina reason such as ‘John makes a choice!’ What even fucking happened to Candy Calliope anyway? She just fucked off somewhere? How do you sincerely throw a character away like that and then have the gall to wink at the audience as if what you’ve done makes sense? Changes in character are generally brought on by catalysts in their life! Trauma, joy, death, new settings, new ideas, events! Not... John deciding to eat a plate full of candy. If we had insight into Roxy’s thought process behind ditching Calliope and marrying John and having a kid on a whim, this might be saved. But we don’t even get a glimpse. Instead we’re pawned this shitty excuse for a very glaring departure from what we knew about Roxy. Character development is just that -- development! As in to become more complex or advanced! Roxy has made wrong choices in the past, yes, but her reasoning was laid bare in such a way that those wrong choices made sense for her to make. She then makes different decisions later because she learned from her wrong decisions. This is development! Her character is learning and changing behavior because of the things they’ve been through! Her reasoning for this awful series of bad choices is just... not explained, despite going against a ton of shit Roxy has learned. It’s slipshod. It’s careless. It’s sacrificing the tree to showcase the topper. The audience isn’t vested in this Roxy because she’s seemingly robbed of her agency, and then they’re trying to foist this idea that she somehow still has agency on us as if they didn’t preface the entire timeline with ‘well, all this shit is going to happen because we decided it and no other reason!’

Now: the praise. This bit of dialogue has huge implications for ‘non-canon’ dynamic. No, not ‘non-canon’ in the cheeky way the epilogues and HS2 claim to be ‘non-canon.’ I mean ‘non-canon’ as in this blog that I run and all the blogs that you, the reader, are writing and reading as well. Roxy’s insistence that characters change can swing the other way, too. Characters can develop in bad ways as well! Not bad as in bad writing, but bad as in flawed character reasoning! Suppose what Roxy learned from her time in HS1 was that most things can be solved by unvoiding fix-all solutions into existence? Then we might be able to see her trying to fix the human-troll-population issue by just... making more planets! Or unvoiding some sort of device trolls could wear that inhibits hivemind tendencies! That would be interesting and perhaps morbid to write about!! It would at least track with her past experiences!!! Or better yet: perhaps she actually takes a side against Jane (as she has done in the past) but instead of using their friendship as the moral plating, she went right into sarcastic arguments FOR eugenics to demonstrate how bigoted Jane was being? That’s a very Roxy thing to do!! She could have made the argument that if trolls need eugenics to suppress their violent tendencies, then so should humans! Having read about the Condesce’s eugenic practices during her formative years, this should have been fairly obvious to Roxy that what Jane was suggesting was from the same playbook, at least.

But I digress. What this bit of dialogue really does is give credence to us, the audience, in exploring these stories we’re currently writing for these pre-established characters. YES, canon Rose likely didn’t dabble so thoroughly in game magics, and she likely didn’t have as much anxiety as my Rose. BUT I prefaced my Rose’s current state with a bunch of events that make sense! She missed her rendezvous with the others! She had to float adrift, alone in a broadcast satellite, for nigh on a decade! She’s had a long fucking time to develop all these anxieties and mental illness because that’s what happens when you’re isolated for years! It is a tool I use to express my own anxieties and explore how someone might somehow overcome them! And most importantly: she’s still Rose. She has unprocessed mother issues. She cherishes her friends. She’s more than a bit gay. And she knows when the meta is using her and when it’s not, because she’s had a traumatic experience being used by Doc Scratch as a plot device. And that trauma isn’t going away (well, unless she gets therapy, but given the setting we’re writing... not likely), so she’s going to be overly cautious when it comes to big decisions involving her friends. What she’s not going to do is suddenly abandon everyone she’s departed from because uhhh Jade ate some bread the wrong way or whatever.

tl;dr: What this section of the epilogues/HS2 (well, really just this bit with Harry Andersen, Tavros, and Vrissy that is somehow more interesting than virtually EVERY OTHER PART of HS2) is telling us, the audience, is that it is good to diverge from canon. Non-canon characters will still have very real feelings and face very real consequences for their actions. Just... don’t do it like they did it. All these characters we’re writing for and all these events we’re writing around them... they’re valid! They matter! Just because they’re not canon doesn’t mean others are willing and wanting to read them, and that makes them important! Unfortunately, this also means the epilogues/HS2 are important, but let’s ignore that for now. What I’m trying to say is: be indulgent! Write the things you want to write! As long as they’re well-reasoned, they’re good writing! Characters can be overpowered! They can be cliche! They can have teenage problems as an adult! Just... give them a good reason.))

[supergenial]

Cindered Shadows was pretty decent

I recently finished the Cindered Shadows DLC and decided to once again write about my impressions, don't worry though, this one isn't as long as the previous ones. Spoilers: I think this is as good as fire emblem is gonna get for a while.

1) No Agarthans, thank GOD

A story as old as fire emblem: There's an interesting human villain with down to earth motivations or obsessions, but in the large scale of the story they're overshadowed by a supernatural being who wants to destroy the world for no reason other than "they're just evil". This is Edelgard and the Agarthans, Arvis and Manfroy/Loptous, Rudolph and Duma, Ashnard and Ashera, Walhart and Grima... you get it. This shit sucks to put it bluntly. Having these stereotypically evil bad guys who are clearly evil is one of the main things that brings down the plot of any fire emblem game. I'm of the belief that they should kick out these supernatural villains and just leave us against the human villains, the one's with actual ideals and beliefs other than "hurr durr, destroy the world".

And then there’s our villain for this DLC. Now yes, it feels like they recycled a certain professor from the Harry Potter series, but I like that he is "The" bad guy for the DLC, he's not being controlled by anyone. He's obsessed with Byleth's mom and in-game this makes a lot of sense. If Byleth, who is incapable of communication, can drive people crazy for them just by existing then just imagine a Byleth who can actually talk. Her "waifu" charms must be off the charts, so I can't blame this guy for being obsessed. More importantly he's not being controlled by the Agarthans, he's not being played by anyone. He's a man who's lived a righteous life, he took care of a lot of people who all love him but ultimately decided to use them for his own gain and his own obsessions. As far as FE villains go... He's good, honestly, great job Intelligent Systems, I expected a lot less.

2) Reduced avatar wanking

Shots fucking fired

Sure, Byleth's mom is a main focus of the plot, and Byleth is the one who sets the plot in motion, but rarely does it feel like the game is going "gee Player, you're so great, you're our god, we all love you and want to marry you". Byleth still plays a large role sure (unfortunately) but it still feels like this is the story of Yuri and his gang with Byleth being their strategist which is, idk, way better than the idea behind the main game? The one where Byleth turns into a literal god, gets every achievement of the army attributed to them only, has every other conversation remind us how glorious Byleth is, etc.

In fact the dlc goes as far as having Hapi constantly belittle Byleth and even make fun of their communication skills by calling him Chatterbox (good job to the localizers, she doesn’t say this in the japanese audio). Get that teacher’s ass girl, destroy them. (Obviously I would hate this behavior if it was directed to someone else, but in this case I'm willing to make a concession).

3) Yuri's backstory

Ashe: I admire and love this man who is my only parental figure but Rhea said he's kind of bad so I killed him Yuri: Church ordered me to kill a bunch of thieves and delinquents and I refused

You have no idea who much I love the fact that Yuri is someone who protested his orders and got kicked out of the church for refusing to kill civillians. This instantly sends him very high in my rankings. Playing through the first half of the game all I wanted was to stop and say "No, Lady Rhea, fuck you. I don't think it's very cash money for the most powerful military force in the continent to eradicate a lightly armed militia of farmers (with popular support in their locality!)" this is what true imperialism is all about! But there is sadly no option for that.

Just by telling us that Yuri is someone who was punished for saying "No, these orders are inhumane, I refuse to carry them out" that is enough for me, the game is saying "yes, we know, have your compensation price". In the end Yuri is extremely loyal to Rhea which is unfortunate but hey, at least they lampshaded one of the most glaring issues I have with the main game, so that's at least something.

4) "You've obtained all information. Proceed with the story, NOW"

Rather than wasting time forever thinking up which activity I should carry out, abyss is simply a place where you talk to the abyssal denizens to get some plot information or speculation, and boom, you're done. No running around forever, no quests, no doors that take ages to load. You can perfectly skip the abyss parts and at most you'll miss out on Edelgard's conversation with Dimiri (which is fucking hilarious) and a few rusted weapons that can be forged but that's it. Upon talking to every resident of the abyss the game will actually say you’ve acquired all information and will prompt you to go into combat rather than assume you want to dilly dally for a while.

I actually rather like this and would not be opposed to it being the philosophy behind future in-between segments between chapters. I can understand IntSys wanting to load in a ton of features like a sauna and fishing to rack up excitement for the game, I know I was excited for fishing, but when these activities have rewards tied to them, replaying becomes kind of a chore, "aw geez, I have to fish 69 fish to reach professor rank A+ AGAIN" (I actually had to when trying to get the piss screen from clearing maddening). Getting only some conversations and a bit of context for the story, that's... pretty good honestly, I liked this better than the monastery and better than My Castle. Throw in some skits with multiple characters at once and I’m gold

(seriously how come there’s no scenes with the three of the bros, Dimitri, Sylvain and Felix all hanging out together, the fact that a third character never shows up in support conversations is fucking bad)

5) Sometimes less is more

I've extensively complained about three houses already but bear with me. Yet another thing that infuriates me about the game is the extensive amount of work it required. I truly do think that if they had released only the blue lions route and left everything else in the plot as mysterious and unexplained loose ends left entirely up to speculation, that'd be a great game on it's own. Instead I have to see all the hard work that went into making the other routes only so that, in the end, they just had me going "well it was ok I guess". Every scene in the game requires work, many hours of coding, writing, voice acting, sound editing, making sure the models don't look too messed up, bug testing, etc. The amount of work that went into three houses was brutal regardless of what you think of the final product, yet a lot of people didn't even bother playing through all of that. So yes, I honestly wanted less, give me a more concise game rather than spreading too wide and ending up thin.

Cindered Shadows on the other hand is concise to a fault to make up for that. The story is pretty straightforward and leaves no loose ends to itself, there's no anime cutscenes, no supports (within abyss, you can support them all in the main game). There's even that very awkward sacrifice scene where some characters are having their life and blood drained from them yet the visual representation we see is just them standing around like normal, with Yuri even doing that hand pose he does all the time instead of squirming in pain or something. It's very awkward looking, objectively not good, but it gets the point across and doesn't make me go "wow you put in all this effort for nothing" because the whole thing is also fairly short (5 to 10 hours in hard mode).

I know, it sounds like I'm shitting on the dlc, but the point is I'd much rather get something short that leaves me satisfied than something like the main game that makes me go "this could've been so hecking gooood if they changed X" for the rest of my life.

6) The gameplay

Chapter 4 is my favorite mission in the whole game

They made Hard Mode good. I previously said maddening was the one difficulty where this game made sense, but this one achieves perfection with just hard mode. This is because the team actually knows what you have. In the main game there's all sorts of variables to account for due to the large amount of player expression that is possible, you can reclass anyone into anything and throughout many lucky or unlucky level ups, maps can be entirely different based on that rng and choices. Here though, your characters already have solid bases starting at lvl 20, and you can't reclass too much so the devs know exactly what you're working with and can plan accordingly. Beating the maps feels incredibly satisfying not just because the objectives have more variety now, but also because you feel like you found the right way to use the tools you were given. This is why the first few chapters of any fire emblem game often feel so good, because the devs know exactly what you have.

Not that I think player expression is bad! It's very satisfying to warp skip chapters and to use broken units like battalion vantage+wrath Dimitri as these things make you feel like you've truly subjugated the game, but it takes some time for those things to really take off. There's a time to reap and a time to sow, and the sowing time can get pretty dull sometimes but that's what makes the payoff feel worth it. Still, for a short experience like cindered shadows is, this style just fits perfectly, plus chapter 4 has quickly become one of my favorite chapters in the whole game, along with chapter 6.

7) In The End

Idk folks, I just like it. If you just want more adventures with the three lords, this is it.

If you’re looking for any excuses to avoid this I'd say the better ones are: maps are reused from the main game (they work much better here though), it's 10 hours at most so it's price-to-cash ratio isn't very good with the expansion pass being $30, and also the Abysskeeper feels a bit TOO winkwink nudgenudge to me, especially since Gatekeeper was popular enough to make it into Super Smash Brothers. Like yeah bro, we get it, we all love Gatekeeper, you didn't have to do this.

I also like that they finally gave Dimitri a semi-problematic quote where he says he kinda likes the idea of poor people living underground out of sight, I think it’s a very rich-white-boy flaw to have and not entirely awful given his life experience up to that point. And yes I do think he has no flaws and is entirely unproblematic in the main game, “feral” as he may look it doesn’t seem like he goes around killing civilians or doing anything other than busting up imperial troops which is kind of justified since they started the invasion, on top that he’s the strongest unit in the game and the most chill and honest ruler once he calms down, so little dent in his record that’s irrelevant in the large picture is indeed welcome.

Overall though, after being so massively disappointed by the Fates DLC, so much I didn't even bother with the ones for Echoes, I certainly like what I'm seeing here and that's a good sign, bravo Intsys.

[aleapoffaithfiction]

IX.

"If one must fall into love, to give up and dive headfirst, knowing that  everything can change in a heartbeat - there must be an upside." ― Rebekah Crane

“The scar isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s pretty thin and with a good skin serum, it may be able to heal up even more.”

Though she isn’t here in the physical, my mother immediately called me on FaceTime to be at my doctor’s appointment over the phone. She’s yet to miss any of them no matter where she is and today is no different. She even instructed me to flip the camera so she could watch intently as every staple was removed from my ankle area. We’re officially transitioning into the physical therapy aspect of things. It’ll be a slow but steady progress with that, but this is the part I’ve been waiting for since I left the operating table.

The post-surgery pain distracted my mind from the mental ridicule about the nothingness in activity I’ve experienced in the following weeks but I’ve dealt with more insecurity than I’ve dealt with in quite some time since then. Even in staring at this scar, I’m slightly being tormented with it. Injuries are a part of life, especially when you earn your income doing something that has a higher percentage of leaving you injury prone, but you damn near feel like you’re invincible until life throws that curveball your way. It’s been difficult to watch my team continue to work towards what may end up being their worst season ever while I’m sitting around my house watching. All of the well wishes and even a surprising call of encouragement from coach and John Mara were much appreciated, but more than anything else, I’d rather be there.

“Yeah, the doctor said it’s looking good.”

“I already e-mailed you three of the newer people we’re going to bring in for the rehabilitation process. I sent out proper scheduling for the chiropractor and the biomechanics trainer too, so all should be well within that area. Once you’re just about to full capacity in terms of strength, you can implement the yoga and pilaties back into your usual workout routine.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I know. You’ve been patient son. You’ve been more discipline with this than I thought you would be. I figured that I would have to do a lot more yelling but you’ve spared me and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, momma.”

“So, what are you getting into today?” The house is empty, but mostly in preparation for the crowd that will begin coming in tomorrow with the exception of Ben. He’ll be in town sometime this afternoon.

I’m hosting Thanksgiving this year, not only because I’m actually home for the holiday, but also because the team has a home game instead of an away game the very next day. So, I figured why not do something that everyone can enjoy so that’ll I’ll have time to catch up with not only my family but plenty of the teammates who I consider to be genuine friends of mine. Chef Renee intends to handle all of the main course and momma promised to make the desserts.

“I have to stop by the GQ party, but you already knew that. After that, I’m just chilling.” I’m hoping the chilling factor will include the woman who has taken a permanent residency in my thoughts. I haven’t been with her in a couple of days and to say that I miss her would be an understatement. I usually have no issue with having contact with people via the phone, because it’s the typical way of communication for just about everyone within our age group, but with her, it’s just…different. I want the face to face communication. I prefer to bask in the infectiousness of everything about her while we’re sitting in the same room together. While it’s nice over the phone, it’s comforting and crazily feels like this perfect sense of normalcy in person.  

Waking up in her bed the morning of my birthday felt like all was right within the world. Our limbs were loosely tangled with one another, while her relaxed exhales warmed the side of my neck. She’s a bit more of a wild sleeper than I am, but most of her shifting seemed to only be attempts to find the perfect position to remain in throughout the night. Because her body is so used to the early mornings she has throughout the week, she briefly woke up around five thirty and left the bed to go to the bathroom. I know this because though she attempted to be careful, she woke me up by lifting the bottom end of the covers to make sure my ankle was properly resting on the three pillows she propped it on top of for elevation purposes. My playful “ouch” startled the hell out of her and she whacked me with the blanket before returning it back to its proper positioning.

What may have been the best part about it is us not going back to sleep right away. Instead, we laid in bed with cups of chamomile and lavender tea while further deep diving into the past and present aspects of our lives to aid in creating extensive knowledges about one another. With mixtures of morning and tea breath, bare faces, hints of crust in our eyes, and hazy eyes from yet another wave of drowsiness washing over us, we shared an intimacy that I’ve never shared with anyone else. It was just us, in such a vulnerable and raw form, accepting one another without the masks and occasional flamboyancy we put on display for the consumption of those who couldn’t care less about our emotional states. For just a while, our eyes spoke what our mouths did not as our penetrating glares met one another until we drifted off to sleep yet again. There was something about that, that seemingly generated this oneness between us that was uncanny and yet made sense.

“Just chilling huh?” Her eyebrow flew up in the way that all women’s do when they’re either curious, about to ask a million questions, or intend to catch you in a lie. If anyone can catch me in a lie before it can even come out of my mouth, it’s my momma. She claims it’s my facial expressions and the way I can’t help but to widen my eyes with an uncontrollable smirk. My bluffs are too obvious.

“Yeah, what else would I be doing?”

“You’re rarely alone, especially when you’re supposedly just chilling. You run that house like it’s a frat house more often than you’re in it alone and yet it seems like you’re starting to enjoy when no one is around. I’m not stupid though. Someone is around. How’s Sarai doing?” I nearly choked as a bit of my own saliva trickled down the wrong portion of my throat in a sudden response to her question. This is what I mean when I say that she calls my bluff. Right now, she’s just doing it to fuck with me because she’s getting some kind of amusement out of it but for the most part, she’ll leave me be for as long as whatever’s happening isn’t something negative or a potential public relations nightmare. The media hounds me for even a hint of what they consider to be “out of line” so I can only imagine what were to happen if I were out here literally living the life of a carefree, entitled, wild guy.

“Sarai’s good momma.”

“That’s all? Just good?”

“Yeah, she’s good.”

“So, what’s up with you two?”

“You all packed up for your flight tomorrow? I can’t wait until you make that red velvet cake. I’m definitely cutting that as soon as it’s done. I’m just warning you now so that I won’t get in trouble later.”

“You’re not cutting anything until we’ve all had dinner, and don’t switch the subject on me.” The loud groan that filled the examination room was automatic.

“Ma.”

“What? I’m not asking you any extremely private questions because Lord knows, I don’t want to know anything that deep. It’s a general question.”

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is, especially for your mother.”

“We’re figuring things out.” And that’s truly what it is. It’s what I suggested we do while we spoke with one another in my driveway and it’s what we’ve been trying to establish and work through since then. I’m not in a mental limbo where I’m trying to figure out exactly what I want out of my connection with her. This isn’t some random fling I’ve started up for the sake of temporary entertainment that I’ll be either be bored of or have no time for within a few weeks or maybe even months. I’ve had just a small number of encounters with commitment but I’ve had my fair share of “situationships” that went on to crash and burn before they were able to turn into something more. I can admit that I am to blame for a lot of that because I haven’t been actively seeking anything long term. In the back of my mind, I always assumed that I’d know when a woman in my life is meant to be something more than someone who I associate myself with occasionally.

I’ve always made my moves based upon physical attraction much like most of the men within my field do. There’s a ton of shallowness involved in the process and I’d be livid if someone dared to approach my daughter with that mindset if or when I have one. It wasn’t until Sarai that I hesitated and even scolded myself just for having the thought to approach her. I laughed at myself for the audacity and summed it up to it just needing to be admiration from afar. After she spoke up for me, I told myself that I needed to thank her and I made it my mission to do so but deep down, I knew better than the lies I was feeding to myself. I’d reached a point of wanting her more than I wanted anything else. I’m still at that point, but it’s intensified to a need. I just wonder if karma has shown up to give me a taste of what I’ve done to women who didn’t deserve it. Why do I want the woman who views me as forbidden fruit?

“I like her, I like her a lot if that counts for something.”

“I like her a lot too.” Sometimes that feels like an understatement.

“I know you do, son. It’s been quite clear for a while now. Did you invite her over for Thanksgiving dinner? If she’s not spending time with her own family, it’d be nice to have her.”

“Yeah, I told her about it. She’s heading to Brooklyn to spend the day with her mother and sister, but she told me if she doesn’t leave from over there too late, she’ll stop by.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah, it should be cool.”

“I’m going to go because I have a bit of running around to do. Please be careful at that party and make sure your walking boot is secure. Enjoy it though. I’m proud of you.” GQ honored me by putting me on one of Men of the Year covers. They titled me as “Hustler of the Year” alongside Kevin Durant who is “Champion of the Year”, Gal Gadot who is “Wonder Woman of the Year”, Colin Kaepernick who is “Citizen of the Year”, and finally Stephen Colbert who is “Bad Hombe of the Year”. I certainly wasn’t expecting it, given the circumstances of what happened and the predicament that I’m in now, but I’m appreciative of the recognition.

“Appreciate it momma. I’ll be alright. I’m not staying that long anyway.”

“Okay. So, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Alright, later.”

As soon as she ended the call, I stuck my phone down into my pocket and carefully hopped down from the examination table. For as long as I have on the walking boot, I don’t have to have as much dependency on the crutches anymore, so, I dragged them along to the receptionist desk and picked up the card for my next appointment.

For the first time in quite a while, I actually drove myself into the city and that personal freedom gave me the urge to leisurely stop at a couple of stores.

“Anything in particular you’re looking?” I wandered off to the women’s floor of Bergdorf Goodman minutes ago and slowly strolled around looking for nothing in particular. Annie, is who she introduced herself as when I asked for help downstairs, and she’s either been alongside me or trailing behind me since then. Though she’s yet to acknowledge it, she’s aware of who I am. It’s more than likely why she’s so eagerly walking my black ass around this store and pointing out things with price tags that have four to five digits on them.

“This bag here.” Sarai was wearing one of its kind in black the night she came to my house. My nosiness got the best of me while she was in the shower after we were settled at her place. While glancing around her walk-in closet, I saw yet another bag of the same make but up in a navy shade. It’s safe to say, they’re among her favorites.

“Ah yes, that’s the Chanel Boy Bag. It’s a popular model. Is there a particular color that you’re looking for?”

“No.” I don’t know what I’m looking for.

“Well it is fall, so maybe a nice brown, green, maroon, or black will due. This one over here is one of the newer ones. It’s pure python skin and one hundred percent leather. It’s the perfect blend of blues that can work with just about everything. Because of the python skin, it’s one of the more expensive versions of the bag. It runs about six thousand, one hundred dollars.” High end bags are usually something I spoil my mother with during holidays or at those random moments when I want to show her how much I love her with something materialistic. I don’t always know whether she likes them or not because she showers me with hugs and kisses in excitement and appreciation no matter what. I’m no expert at this. I do know it’ll look good on her, but everything would look good on her so that’s not saying much. Hopefully, she’ll like it.

“I’ll take it.” Though my shrug was nonchalant, a wave of nervousness washed over me as I anticipated what her response would be. I’ve grown to know how independent she is and most of all, how proud she is of her profession. It’s admirable and I hold her in the highest regard because of it, but I’m hopeful about her being able to accept nice things from people who care about her. Everyone deserves that from time to time.

I couldn’t and didn’t leave without making sure to grab something for my momma and Jazzy. With my pops and I both wearing the same shoe size, he can raid my closet for whatever he prefers.

On the way back to Jersey, I couldn’t make it all the way home without a stop at Five Guys and lastly the gas station. I’d been living life on the edge with a nearly empty tank since I left this morning. I was running too late to stop to do anything.

“You doing another crutch of shame from Sarai’s crib?”

Khan, Blackjack, and Aris immediately greeted me in the foyer as I closed the door behind myself. I didn’t bother awaiting Mowgli because he had no intention on approaching me unless I called for him. The sound of Ben’s voice didn’t surprise me because I’d given him a key a while back just in case his flight arrival times ran into time frames when I’d be out of the house. Per his usual, the jokes are starting already. He’s been talking about the supposed “crutch of shame” ever since I came home early that afternoon on my birthday. No matter how much I emphasize that nothing of that sort happened, he’s still running with the shit.

“I’m coming from a doctor’s appointment bitch boy.”

“Is that what you’re calling it these days? She’s your doctor?”

“What are you talking about? I’m really coming from the doctor.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at how much of a dumbass he was purposefully being.

“So, what did the doctor say?” As he appeared in the hall, he held a half of a sandwich in one hand and his iPhone in the other. I know he didn’t make that shit himself because it’s too neatly put together, which means Renee is either here or has been here at some point since this morning.

“It’s looking good to start physical therapy.”

“Good. I know your ass is happy. Now you can finally stop moping and bitching about sitting around and doing nothing.”  

“Call of Duty, movies, and eating wasn’t cutting it anymore. That shit got old real fast.” I found myself sitting in the theater pulling all-nighters playing that game because I didn’t have shit else to do. I’d skim through Netflix and Amazon Prime trying to find something that’ll grab my interest enough to watch it. I ordered movies that I either watched only for a couple of minutes or never turned on at all. I bought books that I’ve yet to read. The trip to New Orleans is what stopped me from going insane in here. I’ve always had a hard time sitting still and though I’m learning to appreciate down time a lot more given the life I live now; I still need to feel active.

“When you starting?”

“Within the next two weeks.” While I brushed my hands over Khan’s head, I reached and did the same to Blackjack. I haven’t been as attentive to them as I usually am since the injury. I can’t risk the weight or the strain of any style of play just yet but I’m going to incorporate them into this physical therapy process in some type of manner. If I can’t be out there on the field juking anybody, then Khan and Aris will be my practice.

“We still hitting up that GQ party tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m not trying to be there too long though. I kinda just want to chill tonight.” And I am, when he falls asleep. I swear he’s narcoleptic because he can fall asleep anywhere and at any time. By the time we get back here, he’ll nod off somewhere in the house and I’m out.

“I feel you dog. I’m not really in a partying mood either.”

“You? You’re not in a partying mood?” As I moved towards the kitchen, the dogs were in tow. The candy fiend within me kicked in as soon as I got close the house.

“You say that like I party all the time.”

“Nigga, you live at the club.”

“With you. I be partying with yo’ ass.”

“I haven’t been at the club since my ankle broke and you still out there partying. Don’t blame me.”

“Aye, I’m a bachelor. I’m just trying to live my best life.”

The pack of Twizzler Sours were my choice and I opened up a bottle of Gatorade to wash them down with. My next move was to sit up on the counter and text Sarai the picture of my ankle and the scar I took at the doctor’s office. She asked me to keep her updated this morning and I’m keeping my promise.

The toughest warriors always have battles scars that tell their stories. You got this babe.

Babe? I’ve graduated from Beckham to babe? I’ll fucking take it.

Doc says it’s looking good. I got the greenlight for physical therapy.

“I wish you were in my shoes for just a second so you can see that dumbass smirk on your face. I’m going to have to dap her up the next time I see her because she has you tripping. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have it this bad.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not gon’ front. We all know she’s bad. You’re getting to know her beyond anything outsiders will ever know though, and based upon the way your barely walking ass is floating around here, she has to be something special.”

“She is.”

I’m glad to hear that. I can’t see you within this moment but I know you’re smiling because you’ve been waiting for that. Just take it step by step. By the summer time, you’ll be tearing up Quest Diagnostic Training Center at OTAs and mini camps.

I’m damn sure looking forward to that. Now that the injury talk has died down, the media has transitioned to speaking about contract extensions and my commentary about not only wanting to be the highest paid wide receiver in the league, but eventually the highest paid player overall. I meant and stand by what I said. I’m confident in my talent speaking for what I deserve no matter what the opinions of any pessimist are. I’m not necessarily pressed or stressing myself about whatever is going to happen with that particular situation. I’ll let my agent handle it and we’ll discuss matters when it’s necessary. Right now, I have an overall comeback to continue preparing for.

I’m looking forward to it baby. What are you doing tonight?

“And you’re short about her too. Yeah, you really are about to become one of those niggas.”

“One of what niggas?” I’m not short about her. I share a lot of myself with the ones who I cherish and with the world. I’m a human being. Sometimes I need certain things that are just for me and right now Sarai is exactly that. It’s not that I don’t want to boast and brag about her, because there are times when I’m damn near ready to combust and blurt out everything about her that makes me tick in a good way. I’ll get there. I know I’ll get there, because I have a tendency to become like a ray of light who wants to shine my happiness on everyone whenever I’m in that mental space. Sarai isn’t someone or something you hide, but for now she’s someone I’m cherishing like a rare pearl found in the deepest crevice of one of the oceans.

I have an event tonight. It’s one of those things when you wish that the people you made plans with forgot that plans were made.

Well, I guess I’ll be chilling for sure, but with Ben.

I have an event too. It’s kind of obligatory. I’m not that interested in going, though.

“One of those niggas who ups and disappears when they have a girl. You know how that shit be. One minute, you and your niggas are chilling heavy and out of nowhere one of them just disappears because some chick dun’ put a spell on him and now he’s lost in the sauce. You already pulled the disappearing act. One minute we were all sitting at the table playing a round of spades and about to take Patron shots to bring in yo’ birthday and the next minute yo’ ass is gone without a trace.” I had to laugh because technically, that is how it happened. I probably should have said something, especially when all of those text messages came in when I turned my phone on in the morning. Shit, the fact that I turned off my phone alone caused me to not be able to hear the end of it for a couple of hours. Unlike everyone else, Ben’s the only one who knew where I disappeared to.

“My girl? I thought you said that I can’t get her.”

“Occasionally, people pull off the impossible. I don’t know what you’re pulling off though. We gon’ see.”

I guess we’re both being forced out of the house. Are you sure you’re okay with attending an event? Will you be able to sit down?

Her concern with my ankle has yet to falter. Not only does she ask about how I’m feeling daily, but she also sends over tips and damn near scolds me like my mother whenever she assumes that I’m being stubborn and not doing the right thing for it. When we’re together, it’s propped up on pillows while she warns me to never get up as she fetches whatever it is that I or we need. I warned her that coddling it isn’t going to make me stronger and her snappy response was that applying early pressure and forcing a speedy recovery will only set me back to day one. The look in her eyes was all I needed as a warning to shut my mouth.

I should be able to sit. I’ll be fine, nurse.

“You keeping it casual or you getting suited up tonight?”

“Suited up. Jason dropped off this maroon joint that I’m feeling. I’ll probably keep it seasonal and throw on a turtleneck under it. Maybe do an Amiri boot with it or a pair of Tom Fords.”

“Oh, you getting dressed, dressed.”

“It’s a GQ party.”

“And? They’ll be lucky if I don’t wear what I have on right now. Fuck all of that.”

“Get your jet lagged and dirty ass out of here.”

Maybe you’ll call me later on, whenever you’re free? We don’t tape a new episode until Friday due to the holiday, so timing isn’t really a factor. I should be up to answer.

“Ain’t a motherfucking thing dirty on me. I washed my ass this morning.”

“I can smell your breath from here.”

Once I carefully slid off of the counter, I discarded the empty Gatorade bottle and began to make my way out of the kitchen. Though what I’m wearing sounds finalized, I need to go over it and whatever other options I have one more time just to be sure.

Absolutely. I’ll call you later on.

And since she’s off, I’ll find a way to see her tomorrow.

I’ve never understood why they call these types of events parties. Even with the music blaring to the point of filling me from head to toe, there is absolutely nothing engaging about it. Though I’m not in any predicament to hit a dance floor, I couldn’t if I wanted to because there isn’t one. There are no crowds of people huddled around one another, battling it out to the latest dance crazes that have hit the internet. There are none of those infamous plastic red cups that either contain soda because you’re trying to keep it light for the night or some type of alcoholic concoction that your friend put together that’ll eventually have you on your ass before the night is over or when you wake up the next morning. No one’s carelessly sweating all into their favorite party attire from their closets. None of the women are using their fingers to slick pieces of their hair out of the way, because they no longer care about looking good for the sake of attracting the attention of guys, they’ve taken a liking to around the neighborhood or campus.

It’s situations like this that make me miss LSU; the days when everything was authentic and damn near carefree. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’m constantly being reminded that what I love to do and am currently doing for a living is a business. More than a reason for anything else, it’s why I do my best in being authentically myself no matter who is peeved or offended by it. Since my second year with the team, I’ve always emphasized self-preservation before anything else to the rookies because the business side of this shit will suck the life out of you and leave you high and dry with no remorse whatsoever. I can admit that my wide receiver status comes with a lot more celebrity than the large majority of the men I go to battle with on Sunday nights. Much like I’ve used it to my advantage in furthering my brand, so has the NFL, so it is what it is. At this point, I’m consciously working towards drawing back because all of this is a part of my life, but I’m tired of it feeling like it’s my whole life.

“Wonder Woman bout fine as hell.” It’s like the tenth time Ben has said that shit. He was even able to finesse a couple of photos with her as I stepped off to the side to have a conversation with KD.

“You see dude with the salt and pepper hair right there?” I peeped him lingering behind her since we arrived. He was far enough to allow her to shine and yet close enough to make his presence known.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“That’s her husband. You ain’t bagging that.”

“You think I give a fuck about her husband? I’ll still give her the business if she let me. Oprah too, I don’t give a fuck about Stedman. Jada Pinkett. Angela Bassett. Auntie got an ass on her. I think the only married women I’m not touching are Michelle Obama or Beyoncé and it ain’t even out of respect for the marriage. It’s because their husbands got shooters.”

I couldn’t hear my own laughter over the music but it was loud enough to make him instantly join in. Only his stupid ass.

“Odell?” My eyes shifted to the right of me as whoever called my name took a seat on the couch. Jasmine. I haven’t seen her in a while. Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone in a while, but her? It’s been way more than just a couple of months. Our last encounter was somewhere in L.A. during the off season. It might have been at some random house party thrown by someone in Drake’s crew. It was either there or at Playhouse over on Hollywood Boulevard. We didn’t have much of anything between one another other than an agreement to fuck around behind closed doors if we were in the same city and time permitted it. What was once a mutual decision shifted into expectations that I couldn’t meet so we fell back from one another, or maybe it was just me who did the falling back. Given that she does print modeling, I’m not surprised to see her here tonight. She’s been working hard at trying to raise herself up in the ranks in the high fashion world, but I think it’s her height that’s working against her more than anything else. She’s give or take maybe five three or five four with heels on.

“What’s up Jas?” The hair that once cascaded down her back is now cut to just above her shoulders and there seems to be some sort of a rose vine style of a tattoo now decorating that area. She’d watched me get a tattoo once and it sparked what now seems to be a new found love and hobby for her.

“Nothing much. Just grinding. How are you?” She didn’t have to directly say it. Once her eyes met the boot donning my foot, I knew the context of the question.

“Getting better day by day.”

“It’s been a while. I thought you prefer to escape the cold and come out West when you’re not playing? What’s keeping you East?” Two things: the surgeon and specialists are all based in New York and Sarai Nazaire.

“The doctors I have to have follow up checkups with are out here and I’d rather not have to keep flying back and forth. I’ll just wait it out until I’ve gotten to the point when I can go an extended amount of time without having to be in their offices. I’m enjoying being home though. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve actually gotten to enjoy my house.” And that’s the truth. Usually when the season ends, I’m on the first flight out to L.A. whether I’m flying private or not. Being a Louisiana native, the cold isn’t my thing and even with the years I’ve spent here thus far, I’m still not used to it. I’ve made a lot of friendships out on the west coast too.

Being home has given me plenty of time to reflect and most of all, be settled. I’m not settled in L.A. and I’ve never wanted to be that out there. From the time I opened my eyes in the morning, I’d be on go until I fell asleep again at some ridiculous hour in the am yet again. I thought being home would give me this sense of feeling washed up, but instead it’s granted me a regularity that I’ve been seeking and yet didn’t know to acquire.

“But you are coming to L.A. at some point to train, right?” Her eyebrows rose in curiosity. A shrug was the initial response to that.

“I don’t know. I’m definitely rehabbing here. So, I’ll see what happens when I’m in the clear to run on a field again. Nothing is set in stone though.”

“I don’t think I can ever live out here. As soon as I stepped out of the airport today, I nearly turned back around. It’s too damn cold.”

“Yeah, it’s nippy.” I mean, what did she expect? It’s damn near the end of November in New York City.

“I’m out here for the week to shoot with Jeremy Scott.”

“That’s dope. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Congratulations on the cover. Hustler of the Year is fitting for you.”

“Appreciate it.”

What I thought was going to be a short-lived conversation turned into her deciding to remain by my side as if she were the third missing amigo to Ben and I. Though her topics of discussion felt casual, the gestures against my clothed limbs weren’t. Out of boredom, I kept count of the number of times her hand grazed the arm and leg nearest to her. The only thing she hadn’t done is set up a time and a place for the two of us to meet once we walked out of those doors separately tonight. More so for her own sake rather than mine, I hope she doesn’t muster up the boldness she can have every now and then. It’s not happening.

“You’re not drinking.” Her breath reeked of alcohol. Maybe she’s been smelling her own far too much to notice only the scent of cranberry juice oozing from mine.

“Nah, I haven’t been drinking much since this happened. Initially, I couldn’t drink because of the medication and now I’m just chilling on it until I get my body back right. It’s a disciplinary habit.”

“Remember that time we got drunk at The London in Beverly Hills? By the time we woke up in the morning, my panties were draping from a lamp shade.” Yet again, her hand grazed my thigh. Ben quietly grew fed up with the unrequested company on the opposite side of myself and swiftly moved about the place to mingle amongst those that he knows from the two of us hanging around certain cities. He’d bailed on me, but not without making it more than obvious that he was doing exactly that. Jasmine wasn’t fazed in the slightest by his slick commentary about me needing to carry a fly swatter with me for moments like this.

“Uh, I.”

My glared panned past her and in an instant, my breath became hitched in my throat at the unexpected. The hand that I raised to tug at my collar, eventually slid up and washed over my whole entire face as my frame transitioned into a furnace like blaze. Though I couldn’t hear her laughter, just the sight of her smile illuminated the room in only a way that her aura could. While standing alongside Chad Johnson, she stretched her arm out in the direction of a male standing before her and their hands interlocked for a shake. As her eyebrows rose, yet again, another fit of giggles spilled from her lips and my body shifted, creating a space between Jasmine and I. Like me, she wore a turtleneck, but hers is an entire long-sleeved dress hugging every curve and accent of her ridiculous frame. Its shortness was a bold lack of concern for the brittle air outside and yet the sight of her milk chocolate legs stole not only my attention but that of many others who glanced at her every couple of seconds. She commanded all eyes on her without ever moving from one spot, radiated beauty in its rarest form, and unnerved every fiber of my being without speaking a word to me. If I weren’t on one of those covers, I’m not even sure whether she’d know or care that I’m here.

“Excuse me, Jasmine.” Droplets of the contents inside of my glass splashed onto the table I dropped it on before I made a dash for Ben. He’d been posted up in a corner speaking with Jordan Clarkson for the past couple of minutes.

“I know. I know.” As his eyebrows flew up, what is usually laughter that instantly makes me laugh along with him, turned into something so fucking annoying.

“You good?” What kind of question is that?

“I’m good.” The greeting I shared with Jordan was barely there, because my attention remained locked on the opposite side of the room. He’d yet to let go of her hand and although she was no longer laughing, she seemed to be doing her best to remain composed as he continued to bestow his flattery on her. I know he’s flirting, because he’s being given the same exact facial expression every athlete who visits the show receives whenever they try their hand at wooing her. Her smile is forced, with just a slight curve. Tonight, her lips are painted a crimson red shade. It makes the manner in which they’re pressed together that much more visible. There’s a side of her that always attempts to at least save the moment from being embarrassing by playing along while slyly blowing off the person in the process and then there’s the other side, who will professionally check you before the commentary can either get out of line or shift the segments of their show into places they have no business being in. I’m not sure what happens in a party setting, but she’s being polite nonetheless.

“What are you doing?” I could hear Jasmine speaking near my ear and yet I couldn’t bear to look at her. As Chad threw his arm over Sarai’s shoulder, she finally turned her head and captured my line of view. I could feel my lips arising into a smile, but hers did not. The glance was treated as something random. As quickly as she looked over is as quickly as her head shifted back into position to be respectful to the man speaking to her. Like a mime, he turned his head to figure out who or what she saw and it was then that I could put a name to the side of his face as he walked away from her; Mychal Kendricks. It’s the middle of the season, what is he doing out here?

“Excuse me.”

My feet were in accord with the erratic portion of myself that tends to rub people the wrong way despite whatever honest intentions I may have. Like the fiercest magnet, I’m drawn to her in a way that I can’t quite explain and I continue to find myself doing things like this; either putting myself in a position for potential embarrassment or tossing aside every sense of cool that I know I have just to become completely lost into hers.

“Oh shit. It’s that pretty boy wideout who ain’t prettier or faster than me.” Chad immediately drew me in for a hug before I could respond. We’re not close friends or anything of that sort, but there’s a high level of respect between he and I, because we’re cut from the same cloth of being misunderstood. His skill and agility were taken for granted by the league and I don’t believe he was given a fair second chance. Whenever we cross paths, he always makes sure to drop a couple of gems for me to take along with me on this journey and every once in a while, he’ll shoot me a text message or two with work out advice to continue increasing my stamina.

“Boy ain’t nothing pretty about cha.” The Nola drawl oozed out with my words as we shared a laugh.

“How you looking, big dawg? Give me something for a segment; a Friday hot take or something. You in therapy yet?”

“On my way. Just got clearance.”

“That’s all I need. I’m about to throw some extra sauce on that shit and start telling the people you back.”  

Even with us being inches away from one another, I might as well had been a gust of wind that blew over in their direction and would eventually fizzle away. She holds the supposed forbidden nature of what is mutual between the two of us in a higher regard than she does what is undeniable.

“You remember Sarai, right? Ya’ll did the interview.” Within one shift, her upper frame twisted enough to slightly face me.

“Odell. How are you?” Like she’d done Mychal, her arm extended towards me and I latched my own onto hers. The perspiration within her palm moistened mine while the faint trembling radiating from her core further rattled my own.

“I’m well. It’s very nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” My thumb grazed over the smooth skin. Like a trigger, she awakened parts of me that have been neglected for some months now. For the past couple of weeks, it’s felt like I’m dragging through a scorching desert losing every bit of liquid within me and the only one possible of quenching my thirst is within reach and yet so far away. It’s like a torturous tease and yet a test of my willingness. How much do I need it? How far am I willing to go to have it?

“I might be prettier than you, but this queen right here is a better at everything. I just sit on the panel with hope that I’ll be able to fill her shoes one day. Right, Sarai?” While rolling her eyes, she playfully nudged him away from her and stuck up her middle finger just enough for him to notice it.

“I agree.” I would have agreed whether she was standing here or not.

“You already know I tell everybody you’re the best. I’m a firm believer that somehow, women are better at everything than us.” He has a point. There are no other creatures on earth who know how to make a will or a way for everything like women do. They’re the true pioneers of making something out of nothing. That’s exactly why men are in the positions we’re in today. It starts at home.

“That’s progressive.”

“Oh, congratulations on the cover, big dawg.”

“Appreciate it.” Shit, that dress is fitting. It damn near looks like it was sewn onto her.

“Photos?” Our group photo was short lived. It turned into just a couple of shots between Sarai and I as Chad’s talkative nature continued to be in full swing as he stepped off inches away to throw himself into a conversation with someone else. I’m sure the Don Julio he’s drinking is playing a major part in it as well.

“What are you doing?” She spoke through clenched teeth and slowly withdrew my arm from her waistline. The professional distance returned and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Talking. Is that a crime?”

“You already know this cannot happen.”

“What can’t happen?” I closed the gap. Her enthralling scent worsened the tightening in my throat.

“Beckham.”

“Beckham? Stop playing with me.” A smirk danced along my lips. I didn’t expect her to be tenser than I am, and yet here we are.

“I’m not playing.”

“I can’t speak to my favorite sports analyst at a GQ party? I’m not asking you to kiss me or anything like that, although I’d like to. It’s just a conversation. So, today you mentioned something about the Celtics possibly being able to win the Eastern Conference Finals? We both know that’s a lie.”

“What I said was, the Celtics have a better bench than Lebron’s Cavs do, which may give them an advantage to apply some pleasure. I never said they were going to win. Lebron is still Lebron at the end of the day. I’ve always said for as long as he’s in the east, he’ll be the King of the East. The whole entire conference has to go through him to make it to the finals and it hasn’t happened the last seven years. It’s not likely to happen this time around either. This will be his last year in Cleveland though. I firmly stand by that.”

“I doubt it.”

“Reputable sources are telling me otherwise.”

“Ah. There’s that source word that all sports reporters love to throw around. Who exactly do ya’ll be speaking to? I’m starting to believe that it’s a word used to make a story sound like it has more validity to it, but ultimately, there’s no truth behind it.” I can’t stand whenever something is either quoted as coming directly from me and I never said it or when an analyst claims to have spoken to someone within my camp. My question is always; who the fuck is this person? I have good standing relationships with a few, who are able to reach out for with questions or for information that I may or may not want to share, but with those that I don’t? The source word instantly rubs me the wrong way.

“My source is Lebron, himself. Any other questions? I’ve built up enough repertoire within the industry to be able to have close connections like that.”

“Any NFL close connections?”

“I know a few agents and people throughout certain front offices.”

“Any players?”

“Nope.”

“None at all?” My snicker wasn’t condescending. I really am amused.

“Nope.”

“Didn’t look like it to me just a couple of minutes ago.”

“He claimed to be a fan just like you did. I’m sure the woman who’s been sitting alongside you tonight and who is also currently waiting for you in that same spot, is just a fan too, right?”

“She’s no one.”

“Oh okay. Well you and no one have a goodnight.”

She left me with no chance to respond. I knew not to follow her as she made her way to the bar, despite the extreme urge to do so.

For the first time, in a long time, I feel like a lost boy who doesn’t know what it takes to get the full attention of the girl I like. These are the conversations I’ve never had with my father. He’s never stopped living the glorified college days when it comes to how he conducts himself with women. He and my mother split before I could ever remember them being together and every woman he’s been with since then have felt like temporary fixtures within his life who he bailed out on right after they birthed him sons. As soon as I was drafted, I’ve sensed how he vicariously lives through me and with that has its moments of bad advice. I can’t share this with him. He wouldn’t know what to do with it. Like any man trying to navigate life, I’m just going to have to figure out as I go.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold.” The mumble followed the chattering of my teeth as I stood at the top of the steps. Sarai left the party about a half an hour before I did and she did so alone. She left Chad to continue to be the life of his section and slipped out of the door without much hassle or notice. It was up to me to get Ben’s drunk ass home and he passed out on the couch after raiding the fridge for left over siracha hot wings that’ll definitely have his stomach fucked up in the morning.

“It’s two thirty in the morning.” And yet she hasn’t removed anything with the exception of the pumps she wore on her feet. Everything is still as perfectly placed as it was when my eyes first landed on her some hours ago.

“Well, good morning.”

“Only booty calls and police show at people’s doors this time of the morning.” While she leaned against the doorpost, I used the top of her banister for support. Though I haven’t been standing out here very long, there’s a slight ache in my ankle that’s only intensifying the more I stand on it.

“I’ll be whichever one you want me to be. Either way, it sounds like a good time waiting to happen.” I had to. She walked right into it. Despite how hard she tried not to; she couldn’t help but to join me in chuckling.

“What’s in the box?”

“A gift for you.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I know.”

“It’s not Christmas either.”

“I know.”

“So, what’s the occasion?”

“I like you.”

Her head tilted and in the earthy hues of her brown eyes held parts of her story that I’ve yet to explore but will need to. There’s nothing malevolent or malignant and instead a purity that needs to be safeguarded at all costs. People go on and on about pretty blue eyes or alluring green ones, but there’s something about the deep chocolate of Sarai’s that’s unrivaled in beauty. Maybe it’s the glimmer or the way her lashes flutter whenever she blinks. Maybe it’s the way they tease you with bits of her soul and tells you her thoughts without her ever having to say anything to you. They twinkle like the brightest star and yet have a depth that seems to lead to a heaven that I can only wish to be a part of. I want to know and be a part of all of her.

“And it’s Thanksgiving Eve, technically. So, I’m thankful for you too. Is that a good enough reason?”

“It’ll due.” She finally stepped aside to grant me entry into her home and I walked along the hall I became familiar with when I spent the night here. Though my house trumps her in sizing, it doesn’t stand a chance in a battle with hers when it comes to the décor. Sarai’s place looks like something out of an interior design catalog and the fact that she did it all herself makes it all the more impressive. While it seems to be far too much space for someone living alone, it fits her and is representative of what she deserves. Plus, she has an elevator. I’m slightly jealous of that. I’ve been crawling up and down the steps in my house for two months now.

“You haven’t changed your clothes or anything. What were you doing?”

“Watching Shameless. I’m behind a couple of seasons. I’m trying to catch up, but I never have the time to binge watch anything.”

“Shameless?”

“It’s a show about a fucked up family, with fucked up friends and neighbors, living in the southside of Chicago. Everyone on the show ain’t shit.”

“In a funny way or a super deep way?”

“Both.” I placed the Chanel box on the coffee table. Rather than sitting on the love seat, I lifted her legs, took a seat on the end of the sofa, and placed them over my lap. “Where are your crutches?”

“I don’t need them anymore.”

“You should still elevate it and be careful with the pressure.”

“I will, nurse.”

“Good.” She’s gotten so used me calling her that, that she plays right into it now.

“At the party, you saw Jasmine sitting next me. We were never in a relationship but we did have something going on at one point. It’s been over for a while. I haven’t even seen her in months. So, when I say that she’s no one, I mean it.”

“Did you think I was jealous? You don’t have to clarify that with me. It’s okay. I’m not against you being around other women.” I’m not even sure how to take that.

“I didn’t think you were jealous.” She had no reason to be.

“At some point, this faze that you’re going through when it comes to myself is going to fizzle away, and you’re going to want some normalcy in terms of a connection with a woman. So, you should continue to mingle with other women, so that your options are there when you do head in that direction.” My eyes lowered at her words

“This faze?”

“You and I can never be normal. We’re literally stuck at a standstill with our emotions being the only aspect of it that can go beyond this. This is what we have; random middle of the night visits and text messages. We’re something no one can know about. You want that?”

“I want you.”

“In this way? At a standstill? As a dark secret?”

“In every way.”

I drew her left leg over and lean over to meddle myself between her thighs. Our kiss was potent as our warm builds meshed together. The weight of her worries ceased and the potential disappointment budding within me was no more. She drew me closer to defy her own words and laced the leg I was once holding around my waist in a fury identical to mine.

“I want a fair chance, Sarai.” The warmth of her lips delicately grazed my neck sending my head into a spiral.

“Beckham, it doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense.” Why is she the only one who my instincts can accept? The only one who makes sense.

“There are rules.”

“Rewrite them, with me.”

Her gaze held mine and yet there was no hesitance or regret. She had no words for me. Her lips were what affirmed her willingness to take this journey with me.

[rhubarbplants]

Renegades AU where the Anarchists won the battle for Gatlon.

What did you get the girl who had everything, for her birthday? Adrian asked himself. She was her uncles second in command and could have literally anything she asked for. She wasn’t spoiled of course, and she had been through so much, she deserved so much. To top it all off she had given him practically everything he had, his apartment, his asylum from any gangs that might come knocking on the door. Adrian looked at his homemade watch, which had an awkward rift where his marker had run out of ink. He had 16 minutes to get to the café. The whole trip was a blur of passing people who didn’t matter. When he came to a stop near the cafe doors he looked around for Nova. Where was she? He thought, hands on his knees, practically wheezing. At first it seemed like she wasn’t there, then he spotted a girl in a dark blue hoodie, it wasn’t her villain uniform but it still covered her face enough so that passers by wouldn’t recognize her. She had her fair share of fans and haters, what was worse, everyone expected Adrian to be the latter. He slid into the chair next to Nova and peered under the hood.

“Is that you?” He asked.

“Hi Adrian” she said pushing her hood back ever so slightly.

“How was last night?”

“Utterly and completely boring.” Nova groaned, sinking lower onto her elbows “Its times like this where I miss being a regular Anarchist. All the board ever does is talk about politics which I suppose is their job, but they’re doing well now, they don’t need me to supervise them anymore. They are ready to take over as a government separate from the Anarchists.”

“Why don’t you ask your uncle then?” Adrian said.

“He won’t listen.” Nova said.

“Are you sure, he always seems to listen to you.”

“Not about this, and, there are tons of things he doesn’t agree with me about, like us.”

“Have you even asked him?”

“Your mom was Lady Indomitable.” Nova said “there is no way he’ll accept you.” Adrian reached his hand across the table to Nova’s and they sat there simply holding hands. Adrian knew this was something Nova appreciated, since most people avoided touching her at all costs even something as simple as hand holding made her feel loved. For Adrian it was a similar sensation to riding a roller coaster, thrilling, and imminently dangerous, but oh so safe and wonderful.

“Your birthday’s coming up isn’t it?” Adrian asked knowing full well it was.

“Yeah, my uncle gave me the day off, but I’ll probably work anyway, I need to keep busy.” Nova said with a frown “you know you don’t have to get me anything right.”

“I know.” Adrian lied. A waitress passed by their table and set down two coffees to go, Nova lifted her hood ever so slight to ask for the check. The waitress graciously accepted and turned to leave, then she froze, gasped and hurried away. Nova sighed

“Will this ever end?” She sank her head down and rested her chin on the glass table, covering her head with her hands.

“People have prejudices, if they knew you then they wouldn’t judge.”

“But they aren’t wrong, I’m an Anarchist, I have killed people.”

“Not many.”

“Yeah, and that's not exactly something to brag about, around the Anarchists.”

“After the amount of deaths you’ve witnessed, they can hardly blame you for not wanting to inflict that.”

“But they do, they don’t understand mourning, just revenge.” Said Nova still burying her face in her sleeves. The waitress returned and swiftly set the bill down on the table before scurrying off once again. Nova sighed and fished some money out of her pocket, this time being sure to keep her hood low on her face as she did so. Then the couple picked up their drinks and left. They usually only went one of two places when they were together, the park, or Adrian’s flat. Today they were headed to the park. But they didn’t go to the part of this park that everyone else did, instead they went off the trail into a secluded garden practically overgrown with all sorts of plants. English ivy, morning glory, and hydrangeas. And then there was the statue. Her hands cupped and hood pulled up just like Nova’s. Actually they looked pretty comical standing next to each other. Adrian reached for nova’s hood, pushing it off her head.

“That’s better.” He said, resting his hand on her cheek “I hardly got to see your face earlier.” Nova was smirking now.

“It was the hood or a mob of angry people trying to run us out of the cafe.” She said

“I don’t want us to be a secret anymore.” Adrian said.

“What would your friends think if they found out that you were dating an Anarchist?” Nova asked.

“I don’t care.” Adrian said

“Well you should, and what happens when my uncle finds out? he’ll kill you.”

“If he actually cares about you he won’t, I think you’re making this out to be a bigger issue than it is.”

“I know, but I can’t lose you.”

“Ok, then I’m fine for things to stay as they are, I don’t need anything more than you.”

“Thank you” Nova said squeezing Adrians other hand. They sat together enjoying each other’s company.

“How’s Max?” Nova asked, Adrian sighed, he and Max had been taken care of by the captain and the dread warden, but it had only lasted for a few months and they had never had the chance to adopt the two boys, now they were effectively both orphans, Max was kept under tight security at a hospital. While they told people it was for Max’s own safety, most everyone knew Ace Anarchy liked to have the young boy where he could keep his eyes on him.

“He’s doing fine I guess, he’s feeling guilty after the incident with Danna, but they’ve been spending some quality time together recently.”

“We should go visit him again, it’s nice having someone I can be myself around, plus I’ve gotten good at disabling the cameras. I can’t believe he figured it out, he should be a detective or something.”

“I would like that.” Adrian looked into those fantastic blue eyes, a paradoxical combination of light and shattered darkness. He planted a light kiss on her lips and she smiled. He loved these moments, when it was just them and they had nothing to hide, nothing to fear. Together they sat at the base of the statue and just enjoyed each other’s company until the sun began to set.

“I have to go” nova said as she stood up, shifting her hood back over her face,

“See you.” Adrian replied as she walked away. He turned in the other direction. His house was about a block away from the cathedral and most people thought he was insane for living there, but it wasn’t all that dangerous, and he liked being close to Nova. When he arrived oscar and Ruby were sitting on the couch, which wasn’t too stange. He had given them both keys for emergencies and now they just broke into his house to hang out.

“Hey.” Oscar said, from his perch on the armrest of the couch. Ruby had a more reasonable seating arrangement and was leaned forward completely immersed in the video game. “Where were you?” He asked “doesn’t your shift at the studio end at 2:30?”

“Yeah it does.” Adrian said blushing

“Who is it?” Ruby said jumping up from her seat, she must have a sixth sense or something.

“It’s no one, really.” Adrian said, Ruby gave him a ‘I’m not that dumb you idiot’ glare.

“Sure sure.” She said, giving oscar a sideways look.

“How about you guys start dinner, I need some space.” Adrian headed to his room, most of the furniture was stuff he had drawn or painted and so tended to be simple and sort of small but he liked it. He took his sketchbook from his bedside table and got to work, he was sketching out jewelry. A simple necklace with a gold N and a little star. Maybe a bracelet? no she already had one. Jewelry was a stupid idea anyway, she had everything, and anything she didn’t have she could easily get. His thoughts started to wander and with them the purpose of his drawings, he began to draw a place he remembered going with his mom, out in the woods, and forest. The scenery was so peaceful and different from this city. He focused in on every penciled detail, each shadow, each illumination. Then he heard a knock. He jumped up and rushed to the door, slowly and carefully he squweaked the door open and peered out. It was Nova, and she was crying. Adrian opened the door all the way and pulled Nova inside, hugging her tight.

“What happened?” Adrian asked.

“We had a mission.” She sobbed “We we’re dealing with a gang on the north eastern ward, and” she took a shaky breath “I shot, one of the gang members, not in the foot or legs, Adrian I killed him, he was barely twenty and I killed him.” She was crying into Adrian’s shirt, burying her face in his shoulder, as if forcing out the images.

“Nova don’t blame yourself, what was he doing?”

“Pointing a gun at a group of hostages.” Nova said.

“So, you saved all those people.” Adrian said.

“But there had to have been a better way to do it.” Said Nova.

“Hey, Adrian!” Ruby shouted “who is it?”

“Ummmm I should leave.” Nova said. She turned but Adrian grabbed her arm,

“just try, I promise they won’t freak out.”

“Yes they will, to them, I’m a villain,” nova said, though she let Adrian pull her back into an embrace. “What happens when they hate me?” She murmured.

“We can cross that bridge if we come to it.” Adrian said, Nova pulled away, and took his hands in hers.

“Adrian, What’s going on?” Oscar and Ruby stuck their heads into the living room. Nova turned her head towards the two and everyone froze.

“Adrian,” Ruby said cautiously “I do hope you know who that is.”

“I am aware of my girlfriend’s identity, yes.”

“Your girlfriend?” Ruby exclaimed, “you’re dating an Anarchist? And Nightmare no less, Nova Ar-ti-no!” She broke down the syllables as if she was teaching a two year old a new word.

“Yes get over it.” Said Adrian, with a glare.

“Can everyone just calm down?” Nova shouted. Everyone stared at herm once again, she looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone. “Clearly this didn’t go the way you hoped Adrian, and I can tell I’m not wanted here,” she turned to Oscar and Ruby, “But just to be clear, if either of you leak a word of this and my uncle finds out, both of you will regret it.” And she stormed out the door.

“Her uncle doesn’t already know?” Oscar asked.

“No” Adrian said, his fingers massaging his temples “and she’s scared that if he finds out that he might try to kill me.”

“When were you going to tell us you were dating the most feared villain in all of Gatlon city?” Ruby asked.

“I wanted to, but we both knew people wouldn’t react well to us.”

“Well she can’t be that bad, I mean, Adrian has good judgement.” Oscar said to Ruby.

“I do, and she is nice, if you would just give her a chance.”

They left the subject alone after that, and while the rest of the evening was awkward, Adrian was glad he didn’t have to hide as much. After dinner he headed to his room and prepared Nova’s birthday present. It was perfect.

The next day Adrian awoke at 6 am sharp, energetic and ready to start the day. He began to draw and paint and prepare anything he might need, by one in the afternoon he was ready. He and Nova had decided to meet at the bus stop, three blocks from Adrian’s flat, so Adrian packed up his stuff and got going. He must have looked a bit strange with the giant duffle bags, but he didn’t really care. When he got to the bus stop Nova was there already, no hood in sight, this was Anarchists territory, she didn’t need to hide.

“What are those for?” Nova asked, an eyebrow arched.

“I thought we could go camping for your birthday.” Adrian said meekly. Nova surprised him by giving him a big hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered “No one has ever done something like this for me.” When the bus arrived, they both got on and stayed on for more than an hour until they finally got off at the last stop. Nova had contacted her uncle giving him a vague reason for her absence. By the time they had set up camp it was about 6 pm. The sun was just starting to set, illuminating the world in a crisp golden light. They sat together warming themselves by the fire and staring up at the stars. So separate from politics, from villains, from heroes, from secrets and all of their problems. Nova closed her eyes and Adrian did too, his over Nova’s shoulder. For a few minutes they sat in peace, then Adrian realized that Nova was fidgeting jerkily, as if she was having a nightmare, a moment later her eyes snapped open and she cried out

“No!” Then everything faded to black.

When Adrian came to the first thing he realized was that it was late, the sky was black and the noise from other campsites had faded. Next he saw Nova leaning over him and smiling, a wet towel pressed to his forehead.

“Sorry about that.” She said,

“I thought the flashbacks had gotten better.” Adrian said quizzically. Nova took in a deep breath,

“So did I, but after a few moments it came back and…” she shuddered, her whole body quaking from the terrifying memory, “then I reached the part where I put the hitman to sleep, I accidentally tranquilized you.” She said sheepishly. Adrian reached a hand up to her cheek but Nova tensed up and pushed it down, by his wrist which was cover by his jacket sleeve. She couldn’t even bring herself to touch him.

“I trust you Nova.” He said slipping his hand in hers. “Always and implicitly.”

“I love you Adrian.” She said resting her forehead on his, breathing in the late night air and feeling herself relax against him. “Always and implicitly.”