#but you gotta think about it from the other characters’ pov
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unproduciblesmackdown · 7 hours ago
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also putting 1 and 1 together. as well as words like. as you can use a punch card for "i love my friends" being said around the xmas show b/c also it's a line actedly spontaneously expressed in the mister chestnut christmas medley, punch card for "heart words," there at the start of bloodsong / introduction to the musician & banana & the former's hardassedness & vinegar wit vs banana is not like that, banana saying the musician & his music is saying Dance, Banana, not with your mouth words, but with your heart words....& the musician is like terse mouthwordedness, ft. the audience's ability to infer that perhaps the musician is not really heartwording these things or really that invested in funny little guy dancing tambourine accompaniment. But In True Form....
holding that up to the other [1] in which the musician like Would Be has all the protagonist hardass lead hero power he needs to devote himself to his Mission & kill anyone w/music along the way but it's like step one. i Need banana. cannot do it without having banana here & that has nothing to do with Strategic power levels like he's gonna tell banana no it's fine if you just like are a held hostage no epic successful moves contributor who can't help me during a Situation, don't even worry about it....needs to have his special little guy there, in true form, you wouldn't have to change anything abt the verses of the friendship song to have it be a love(tm) song but it's not b/c it's necessarily that / Not the friendship song really, would never say if the way a relationship is described is like "enough" in whatever metric of intensity intimacy whatever it must Not be [anything] & must Indeed be [anything], lord knows i'm not here to interpret anything as romance as a category based on something inherent, not a context of normative relationality larping. which is also what is happening in bsol, unless you're the romantic leads, in which case i'm like well that's none of my concern except in how it is a plot device....
cue what is also what i was going to get around to in that paragraph anyway like it is beautiful to have the musician be like "well my wife is taken hostage for Evil Marriage larping? obviously gotta go save her" & then have "but first. again i may have already committed my whole being to this & have my lethal music powers but. i Need banana before i can do anything more" & Then have that become a matter of taking on a parallel like well great news banana was also taken hostage for evil marriage larping. (see: exquisite twist & turning contrast is that in this case the "well i want to have the Set & Performance of Marriage, so. pointing a gun at this guy for these three years" hostage taker is openly contemptuous toward banana & all & so perhaps you expect the bastard(tm) to be the exact same way with His [kidnapped hostage okay so now you're my wife then; points a knife at this woman for three years] situation, but first of all the [the conflict w/the antagonist foil brings out [conflict with/in oneself]] element like we need a bit more depth lol so we get that but like, while obviously they're not Actually Close we already are shown that lo cocodrilo Knows this & is actually bothered by it, rather than just like well as long as you have to be staying here on set going through motions then we're good to go. not only the failure of the crocodile approach but failure at Being the crocodile, if he did not actually care about having someone's actual affection (& cue that even after a comedically disastrous exchange, lo cocodrilo's like Default Marriage Larping is the "good evening, darling :)" exit lmao like. is not just fine with genuine contempt beyond the larping) how many brackets am i in what tangent am i on....i think i accidentally concluded it in Sidebar Parenthetical mode there, classic. the contrast that banana's wife is openly contemptuous / hostile, lo cocodrilo has the hostility more comically mixed up in Oh Just Another Average Dinner along with also actually being the party concerned with the desire / pursuit of Genuine Affection / not really being like well this must be fine or as good as it gets then when my wife (who also by contrast is the held hostage party here) tells me to kill myself or what have you)
anyway so that when the musician first before anything else Needs banana & this means saving him from being held hostage in "well, this must be fine? & ideal even, due to the normativity contexts?" (see: again, in an inverse situation, it's lo cocodrilo gunning for the Normative Ideals. while also santa violetta kind of is too but the marriage she already had where she wasn't held hostage for it) evil marriage with someone who hates him & we also see that [the conventions of the spaghetti western is an Expressive device] particularly persistently pushed back for i wear polo shirts now :(....
but what i was getting around to, throwback to that part where i was saying we had the room to think that banana as funny little guy sidekick was, according to conventions, more superfluous to the serious big protagonist than not, surely all the more so when that hero's mission gets activated, all the more seriously. surely that banana is liking to think that the musician is encouraging him to dance with his heart words, not his mouth words, & the musician is mostly like yeah sure whatever but i'm not even gonna use the mouth words to say even that. but here we are getting this scene where it's Step One I Need Banana i'll die or i'll kill to get to him & then i'll use my heart & mouth words alike to indeed encourage him like i know you need to Dance & Sing & Tambourine & be my special little guy who i also need btw. funny little guy banana being right & not being superfluous at all, & i don't know how i'd sing if to me you didn't cling
#i think that's me saying what i actually had the thought like uh oh gotta post & express myself about#bsol#& not like the show makes you dwell on it the way we timeskip & follow the musican's pov here but like#sometimes being like oh no :( banana's life for three years :(#cut to the: me crying over the scene / song just Unexpected following banana for a moment as he prays for the musician#key change right on that like we. hang on i had a thought. i have to continue with this one though. through tears already lmao#key change right on him praying For the musician & it getting more intense the All He Has Done For Me like#even as really like That evil marriage was the one actually more ''successful'' re: yeah just Take & Keep your spouse & have the trappings#& Performance of that ideal married life then; the contempt? sure who cares in the face of those trappings obtained; i said#vs that over with the sitcom of violetta & cocodrilo evil marriage it is Not thusly successful. could be if cocodrilo didn't care; as he#supposedly shouldn't; but we're already shown he does; & is still pursuing Genuine Affection vs oh i just need Spouse here; physically;#hostagely....which again when i tell you the fun & games one can imagine shaking up & sprinkling the coconana dynamic like. oh boy#it's the ''i guess it's nice to be wanted?'' hostage vs the guy actually already consumed by I'm Not Supposed To Want (but i do)#I'm Supposed To Be Wanted (but i'm not) & he's got a gun a knife a certain je ne sais quoi#anyway what am i saying? right that like violetta & cocodrilo's comedic evil marriage glimpses are not at all like. ''realistic''#even relative to the [bsol is not trying to use realism] vs that our glimpse at banana's & the wife of banana's comedic evil marriage#again at least has that ''successful'' yeah sure i hate this guy but i don't even care about that; i care about keeping him held hostage#presumably also does not care about not having banana's genuine affection as lo cocodrilo is eaten at by not having violetta's#like just a fight of the practical physical matter of [you are thwarting me holding him hostage]#anyway what i'm still saying like slightly more ''realistic'' for that sort of Contempt / Resignation goings on in that evil marriage#vs over with the ''& you only tried to stab me once. is something the matter?'' classic evil marriage Comedically Unrealistic average meal#but that even in how we don't See like montage of the miseries of banana's three years but indefinite life nor even like montage of the#joys of banana's life prior with his special protagonist guy; just the glimpse & understanding context via the emergent Feelings & Behavior#private little song moment with banana key change increased intensity For All He Has Done For Me into there is no one you should protect#more than him....emotional resolution leaping in to save the musician; miracle received: banana not being killed for that....#& i cry about banana's prayer like Character this fellow actual person who yes Is more mouth words emotionally expressive ;m; banana.......#plus my thought was also about how what's considered ''''realistic'''' (tends to be the opposite) about like ah what a miserable situation#being from Outside the perspective of who it happens to & like. about what We Observe abt what happens to some Other person#rather than what that person feels or what even these Overall Emergent traits / behaviors arising from being in that context/situation can#tell us. a glimpse of what's perfectly average in a dynamic which indeed probably Doesn't shatter / disrupt everything b/c its Truly Bad
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mrfoox · 2 years ago
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i wish i trusted my own feelings more but here i am?
#me: i feel this way (: someone i like: um... are you sure? i think you feel more that way#me: oh shit... maybe i do? binch i gotta think this one through now..........#i dont think my answer will change but its uh... worth another look#oliver said a while ago he thinks i'm in love with fabian.. and immidetly i said very confidently apperantly that i dont#and now ive been thinking about it and im like....... ok but am i?#told oliver again and he was like 'what i thought you said you werent? you sounded very sure about it'#yeah i mean...... at one hand i am but also...... i think my brain can do a lot of shit to keep me away from things that will probably end#badly. and genuinly i do not think me and fabian would have any chanse even if somehow he would be into me too#i'd never feel good enough for him. so i may just have gone into the whole thought of#its never going to happen so you obviously just like him in a friendly way. the end. idk#as usual romantic feelings for me is a mess. i dont divide love in that way naturally. for me love is love. if i love you i love you#i'd do anything for you and anything you'd want with me i'd be down for unless we are very unlike character wise#i just can see myself liking almost#all my friends in a romantic way? i can imagine it from my pov but its theirs i cant#not something i actively think about tho its just.... something i have and i know?#maybe this actually isnt how i think but theres another explanation (like oliver said 'being afraid of others leaving so youre willing to do#anything they want to keep them aorund) but until i learn otherwise this is what i keep thinking.  i feel like a freak tho bc i dont think#anyone can really... understand it unless they feel soething similar ? or are super open or such. the friends ive told i think got a bit#scared. makes sense... but i cant make it sound better or more normal like yeah. everyone is safe from me romantically but also#almost everyone is welcome to hmu if they wanna try dating i guess. i speak big but i do have some exceptions#mainly bc of character meshing :'))#miranda talking shit
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salmalin · 5 months ago
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My sincerest apologies and warmest welcome to my rant about FF7: Crisis Core. Or, as I like to call it,
Propaganda: The Video Game
I say this with the utmost affection. Crisis Core ranks really high up there in my favorite Final Fantasy 7 installments. I played it when it first came out, borrowing it from a friend to play on a borrowed PSP. And, the more I learn about the game and the more I replay it, the more everything lines up.
This game is not about Zack Fair.
This game is about how Capitalistic Propaganda can sink into every aspect of life to the point where it is entirely indistinguishable from reality. And it’s very overt about it. So…
Here we go.
My treatise on Propaganda’s starring role in Crisis Core.
Part One: The Timeline
Something that a lot of people gloss over due to decades of Child Heroes in media—Japanese Shonen and Shoujo series in particular—is how young these protagonists are. We’ll hand-wave a lot of stuff in non-live-action series with just a little bit of suspension of disbelief. And that’s honestly just accepted these days. But here’s the thing about those hand-waves.
Final Fantasy 7 doesn’t do that.
Now, FF7 hand-waves a lot of stuff. For example, how far you can travel in a day by foot, the distance a man weighing approximately 165lbs can jump after being genetically fused with what might as well be a cocaine demon (Jenova), and how much hairspray one can reasonably carry on a cross-country journey while on the run from the feds.
Age is not one of them.
Exhibit A: Yuffie Kisaragi.
Do I really need to say more? She acts her age. So does Zack. And Aerith, even. Most of the characters in the original lineup were over twenty for a good reason. We see several kids in the series, and they all act their age, too—both the OG and the remake. Age is not a thing that FF7 really grapples with. It’s something they take relatively seriously.
Now, to the point.
Zack is 16 when Crisis Core starts…
… and he was 13 when he ran away from home without his parents’ knowledge to join the military.
Which accepted him.
At 13.
Without a parental permission slip.
Think about that for a second.
… Or for the next several parts of this breakdown.
Part Two: The Main Character
As I mentioned in the introduction, Zack is not the main character of the events of Crisis Core. Instead, he is the focal point of the second person POV. This is not the first time Square has done this. It was done most notably with FF9, FF10, and FF12. (I’m not going to go on an Akira Kurosawa rant right now, but please check out his film “The Hidden Fortress”. FF12 and Star Wars episodes 4-6 borrow heavily from this film.) The purpose and position of this character is such that they might best witness the effects the other characters make on the world as their stories unfold, usually in the role of a love interest. For Akira Kurosawa, it may have been told this way because these people are most effected by the decisions being made.
“Well, then, Sal,” you may be asking, “who would you say is the main character? Would that be Aerith, since she’s the love interest, like in the other games?”
No, actually.
It’s the antagonist.
And by that, I mean Genesis.
Hear me out. I used to hate Genesis, for I was once young, full of judgement for flamboyancy (thanks, internalized homophobia), and was led by the narrative to believe he was mean to his friends. Then I met my Lovely beta who loved him, so I wrote a fic for her as a gift. So for that I kinda just… read stuff. Because that’s the thing about Propaganda—you gotta read stuff to navigate it. I read the in-game emails. I re-watched all the scenes I could get my hands on with him. I read his wiki and tried to track down more information about him. Then I watched the scenes in Japanese and gained a better understanding of not just Genesis, but Sephiroth’s character. And I realized that Genesis was put on this road from the start. In fact, a big part of the fact that he’s seen the way he is in Canon—only at his most hostile and lowest points—is because the story is told through Zack’s point of view.
So before we get into the breakdown, here’s the hard facts about Genesis.
1. He was a test tube baby who may or may not technically be Angeal’s fraternal twin brother, which we are not going to unpack right now.
2. He was adopted by a relatively rich family.
3. He was a child genius (which requires not only resources, but drive to achieve), and at a tender young age of like… ten or something? He decided to mess around and literally invented pasteurization. Which is incredible, and really speaks to his knowledge of the world and ability to grasp complex concepts even at a young age. But, again, this is not the time or place to unpack that.
4. He was best friends with Angeal, who might as well have been the sweetest, kindest boy to ever walk the Planet. (I’m biased. I love him.)
5. As a teenager, he became fixated on Sephiroth, who had gained national acclaim as a SOLDIER despite them being the same age. (Please see part 1 and think about that for a second.) He then goes to join SOLDIER and brings Angeal with him. And Angeal brings his step-father’s puritanical “hard work is honorable” mindset with him. (On that note, Angeal and his father’s arc really are a wonderfully scathing letter to companies that overwork their employees and how toxic/unhealthy that line of thinking is. But. Again. We are not unpacking that right now.)
6. At one point he became consumed with LOVELESS, a series of poems with heavy prose and symbolism thicker than syrup. It got to the point where he was so well known for it that there was an entire fanclub dedicated to both him and analyzing the text.
7. While he was in SOLDIER, he repeatedly had his achievements publicly accredited… to Sephiroth.
Over and over and over again.
Everyone did, really. They mention it in the beginning of the game. Sephiroth even got public credit for Zack’s raid on the castle when he wasn’t even there. How much of his legacy is real? How much of it is made up? How much of it was faked? We don’t know. No one knows. But he keeps getting credit, anyways. And when Genesis confronts him about it, Sephiroth doesn’t care. In the Japanese version of their fight scene, you could even say he indirectly implies that he wants Genesis to take his place as the “hero”. In the English, Sephiroth’s line is, “Come and try.” But in the Japanese the line is closer to, “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Which, depending on how you take his tone, can mean wildly different things—from mocking, to earnest, or even admiration—which is especially to tell because he might be annoyed with Genesis at the moment.
Fun Fact: In Ever Crisis, Sephiroth explicitly says they are making up his achievements in the press to target boys his age for recruitment. (Thus why they accepted Zack at age 13.)
My theory on this line is that he is being cynical; that Genesis doesn't understand just how harrowing and even humiliating his experience has been. This only enforces my theory that the "come and try" translation in the English not only does a disservice to a line as wonderfully heavy as, "Wouldn't that be nice?", but fundamentally misunderstands Sephiroth as a character.
8. Genesis then took the fight to Shin-Ra. Inspiring a good chunk of their staff to leave the company, he then staged multiple attacks on facilities, staff, and the main building—which also spilled out into the city of Midgar. He murdered his parents, buried them, killed everyone in town, and… Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of innocent people died simply because they were vaguely associated with Shin-Ra. These are the actions of a villain. What’s more, this is clearly a sign that he has been acclimatized to death and violence by Shin-Ra to the point where he doesn’t even consider taking hostages.
Except.
Except the entire town was a Shin-Ra town.
Banora, canonically, was a Shin-Ra built town, which means everyone there was basically an employee of the company. No one was safe. Everyone was a threat. And that…
That was how he was raised. And he finally knew the truth—that every moment of his life was touched, controlled by Shin-Ra, all the way down to his very conception. He has never known freedom. He has never known his own identity. And now that very cage was killing him, slowly and painfully, and turning him into something that couldn’t even be recognized as human. He was watching himself rot in the mirror, and it was all because of Shin-Ra’s greed. And as he searched for salvation, he sunk into LOVELESS as he always had, hinging his entire life on Minerva’s Gift because he knew he was dying and that was all he had.
9. And then he died…
10. … but then it turned out LOVELESS was actually kind of a blueprint, and he did meet the Goddess, and he did get reborn without his degradation so he was rewarded for his journey in the end.
So why wasn’t Genesis the main character of the game?
Simple.
His actions challenge the status quo without being about the status quo. It’s a story about revenge. It’s a story about retribution. It’s a story about answering mass violence with mass violence and ultimately being rewarded by it. And while, yes, the series is an action-based violence simulator, the violence in the original FF7 was a guided, tactical effort. (For all that the characters aren’t the brightest bulbs in the sun lamps.) But the biggest, most obvious shift in the narrative happened when they realized their role as terrorists—bringing mass violence to the company via bombing and open aggression—was just resulting in increasing levels of retaliation against uninvolved people. They might as well have been a child beating the ankles of a giant. The goals and themes of the game fundamentally change when they realize that answering mass-scale societal violence with mass-scale physical violence was not only unsustainable, but also wasn’t going to solve their problem.
FF7 is about change and learning when violence—and what kind of violence—is appropriate in the face of different threats.
Genesis’ arc undermines all of that, and making him the main character would contradict the very heart of the OG game.
So, instead, we are positioned as Zack, connected to him through a mutual friend. From there we see all the damage and horror this vengeance brings to those living under the status quo.
But also, that plotline’s a major downer in a lot of ways, so they needed to lighten things up a bit to keep audience involved. And that’s why Zack is, well…
Part Three: Zack is a Himbo
Please, for the love of all that is holy, keep in mind that everything I say here is with the utmost affection.
Zack is dumb as a rock.
He is a charismatic, enthusiastic sixteen year old jock who ran away from home at thirteen years old to join the military. Which, please know, why I say “military” I mean “private security guard force with a standard-issue Death Baton and a license to kill”. The first scene in the game is him being excited that he gets to murder a bunch of people in a simulation, which he is immediately scolded for by his mentor. He is a glorified, souped up private security guard who is canonically only in it for the glory at first. He wants to be a “hero”, but doesn’t seem to fundamentally know what that means. And, over the course of the story, the definition of that clearly changes for him.
Which tracks, because the story takes place over a period of time with high stress.
Occasionally I see people saying they wish that Zack had more complexity to him, and honestly? The game. Would be. SO. BAD.
Full Disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of Zack specifically because he lacks a lot of nuance. I wish he was a bit more complex, too. But I also know that would break the game. What’s worse, if he was still on Shin-Ra’s side because he understood Shin-Ra’s mission… Well… That would make him a villain, or a cog at best. That’s not main character material. It would make the ending more messed up, though.
Anywho, Zack was thirteen when he left home. He had no formal education. He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing. He even joined without a permission slip from his parents. This means that Shin-Ra was accepting thirteen, possibly fourteen year olds into the military. (Some people will say this tracks because you can get a job at fourteen in many parts of Japan. But, and this is important, you aren’t allowed to be a security guard until you’re quite a bit older, and you need a specific license for it, much like in the US.) Clearly they didn’t teach this boy critical thinking skills. Not because he’s a himbo, but because having their Super-Powered Private Security Force With A License To Kill think independently would explicitly go against their interests. (EX: Genesis.)
Shin-Ra needs SOLDIERs to follow orders or the company would no longer be able to function. Seconds and Thirds aren’t even allowed to reject missions. (One could argue that sending certain someone on back-to-back missions would be a good way for them to eliminate undesirables within the ranks by sending them to their deaths, which… would make an incredible fic idea, actually.) We already know that First, Second, and Third Class rank assignments do not actually reflect the power of the SOLDIER. This is canon. I would instead argue that those who make the rank of First Class aren’t necessarily the most powerful, but are instead the most visible in the media, thus the easiest to market, and/or the easiest to manipulate and control. (For a great example of this, see The Umbrella Academy.)
The point is, Zack may have been elevated to his position as a first specifically because he is malleable and single-minded. Even after all he saw with Genesis, he stuck by the company to the very end, with the exception of the time Sephiroth was literally guiding him to fail a mission. Zack allowed himself to take Shin-Ra’s side every time, taking down their enemies and following their orders, preserving his “honor as SOLDIER” as he had been taught. The only thing that made him stop…
… was literally getting put in a jar.
It was when he was no longer a SOLDIER.
Part Four: Honor
There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.
I repeat: There is no such thing as SOLDIER Honor.
It is a fictional thing that is borne of an ideology based around hard work. It only has power because it is believed in. It is an intangible social construct similar to the law, mathematical order of operations, and gender roles. So why are Angeal and Zack obsessed with it?
Pretty simple.
Angeal’s step-father followed it.
Now, we know three things about Angeal’s step-father.
1. He was chill with the fact that Gillian was already pregnant when they started dating.
2. He was a very good father.
3. He worked himself to death trying to pay off the sword he bought Angeal.
This, of course, says a lot about Angeal considering he rarely uses the sword. He essentially sees that sword as the symbol of his step-father’s life. Everything he uses it for, he sees as more important than his step-father’s life. That thing is usually Zack.
Zack, who is the child who joined the military based on stories of heroes.
Zack, who rises against Angeal in the name of his own step-father’s ideology and tries to talk him down, even at the very end. But Zack fails because he fundamentally doesn’t understand what’s going on, partially because “Soldier Honor” is just one more aspect of this narrative he was given. It is a narrative that Angeal has had to step away from, even though he doesn’t want to leave the memory of his step-father behind. He was a good man. He was a good, hardworking man.
And that is why he died.
Corporations will use you up until there is nothing left, then honor your memory/sacrifice. Shin-Ra was doing the exact same thing the company his step-father worked for did; using up SOLDIERs until they outlived their usefulness. And Angeal was horrified to realize that his “SOLDIER Honor” wasn’t honor at all.
It was willingly submitting to control.
But, unlike Angeal, over time, this meaning changed for Zack. Partially because he didn't understand it fully in the first place. It became about acting with integrity. It became about helping people. It became about not lying down and watching the abuse Shin-Ra handed out in exchange for literal money; for maintaining the status quo.
At the very end, Zack understood what it meant to be a hero.
Part Five: The Conclusion
To sum up, Zack believed in and idolized the propaganda spread by Shin-Ra at such a young age, and was so convinced by it, that he ran away from home at thirteen to join the military.
He was their target demographic, so they happily took him into their ranks. What’s more, people think this is normal enough that we see no one opposing this, because the only people who oppose Shin-Ra are “extremists” or “violent terrorists”.
Zack then became their loyal puppy, groomed to fill his role as super-powered attack dog to sick on anyone they deemed appropriate, and he filled the role. He believed he was doing good. He didn’t think they were invading another country, because that’s not what he was told.
He went after Genesis, because that’s what he was told, and he wouldn’t let Genesis’ actions shake his faith in the company.
Then he went after Angeal, hoping to get answers, only to become more confused. Angeal taught him about SOLDIER honor. He taught him about a higher calling. He was the one who made Zack truly loyal to the company. This challenged everything Zack knew.
He went with Sephiroth, planning a small rebellion of their own (a white lie on paperwork) to get answers, only to find things he wasn’t ready for and couldn’t fully understand.
Zack is shaken by each of these events. Horribly. At times, we even watch him grieve. But time and time again, he doesn’t leave the company. He sees the damage they do first hand, and he doesn’t leave the company. The company isn’t the problem, to him. He reads their emails, does their dirty work, and “maintains his SOLDIER honor”.
Zack swallows what they give him right up until what they give him is torture.
Zack swallows what they give him until he becomes their victim.
Every step of the way, Zack is fed a story of how the world is. He was raised on it. He lived it. He became part of it. He was paid peanuts to enforce the status quo Shin-Ra installed in the world by force, and he was proud of it because it was, to him, something to be proud of.
Zack believes the propaganda whole-sale, and we get to watch, from the point of view of an outsider, as it slowly destroys his life before killing him.
Propaganda has the power to make suffering normal. Propaganda has the power to make murder righteous. Propaganda has the power to take a thirteen year old boy out of his home so they can give him a sword, and when they point him in the direction of their enemies he charges of his own volition, because they made him believe in their cause. And he believes in their cause because he believes that it makes life better for everyone.
But that’s not what’s actually happening.
That’s just what he was told.
Crisis Core is about propaganda, and the depths to which it can affect our lives. It changes our belief systems. It changes our perceptions of reality. And when it’s torn down around our eyes, it can make us go insane. It can make us violent and unreasonable as we realize just how much violence is being forced upon us—violence other people just plain do not see. It's just a a piece of paper. It's just a law. It's just a job.
It's just a war.
Final Fantasy 7 was about Fascism.
Crisis Core is about the propaganda that built it. It is told from the point of view of a boy, then a man, steeped in it. He watches until the people suffering around him—Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal—are twisted into villains by the truths and lies around them. Genesis and Angeal are tortured by truths, Sephiroth is transformed by lies, and Zack is subsequently hunted down to conceal them.
Crisis Core is Propaganda: The Video Game.
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antimony-medusa · 1 year ago
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Honestly though like if you're following Philza you should get used to the fact that since the dawn of him streaming RP people have violently disliked his reaction to any angst beats because like, the cc finds angst rp funny and is also a very giggly guy. And if you're here for drama and tragedy it looks like he's not taking the pain seriously, which is obviously going to be something you don't like seeing. Trust me. We have been here before. I have watched DSMP. There were people saying he didn't take Techno's IRL death seriously enough because he was positive on stream. Like, this is top five things people get mad at cc!phil and his characters for, after "breaks the fourth wall" and "is an imperfect person/parent" and "idk his vibes just grate and I read them as Bad y'know".
I personally think that like the fact that he was repeatedly saying to the eggs that they were gonna get Tubbo back, they'll bring him back with the create wrench cause he cares about create, don't worry it'll all be okay; that was all evidence that the character does care about Tubbo and for heaven's sake, if you want angst, read that as denial and you're fully comfortably in one of the recognized stages of grieving. I was making jokes the day people in my life died, this is also one of the ways people deal with loss. But I also see why that's a POV clash if you wanted a more straightforward depiction of grief and angst? Phil was pretty far from being in tears, which is what some people think was warranted. So like, sure, if you've been watching a specific perspective, Phil's reaction was trivializing. I can see that perspective as well.
It is not fun to see someone calling your POV "vile" and "heartless" and "too selfish to consider other people" and the other delightful stuff that I just saw on a scroll through the tag, but like, that's just POV clash, you gotta let people have their own opinions and block the neg tags and maybe block people who are being really loud. Sincerely, it does nobody any good to go beefing about people being mean about your favourite cubito. Post careful lore exploration on your own blog if you want but doing replies, sending anons, all of that is the way down which A Bad Time lies. Sincerely like, this has happened before, this will happen again, just go listen to good music or something and ignore it.
531 notes · View notes
pshcomforts · 1 year ago
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➳ shameless | psh.
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highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader
“there’s just inches between us”
synopsis: you and sunghoon are academic rivals, always going head to head.
warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. sexual tension. kind of suggestive? a little bit of idiots in love. sunghoon gets jealous.. and possessive? reader’s always late to class but somehow still has the best grade. (this one’s my favorite so far)
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 3.9k
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).
current song playing: shameless by camila cabello
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
2:35 ──────────────|───── -1:04
another day, another struggle of being late to class.
y/n sighed as she checked her phone for the time.
[ 10:42am ] — it read. she felt her heart weigh down at the given time. “fucking late again..,” she groaned while speed walking her legs to class. an unusual amount of notifications blew up her silenced phone, indicating that her friends were questioning her whereabouts.
“come on, i gotta make it.” the girl harshly huffed in quiet and unsteady breaths. “mr. lee’s gonna kill me.”
in minutes, she found herself booming through the door with only deep breaths audible. [ 10:56am ] — her phone beamed.
“made it..,” she murmured through her harsh gasps for air.
“y/n, you made it!” yelled her friend, dae, who had widened eyes. “well to second period but..”
“y..yeah, hold on… give me a second.” her hands smacked down on his desk as her head lowered with exhaustion.
dae giggled at her state. “did you run here?”
“i basically did!” she yelled out, causing him and their two other friends — min-su and ji-woo to laugh as well.
“you’re who i have to beat and yet you can’t even get to class on time?” a voice from behind jerkily snorted.
y/n’s head instantly bolted up at that familiar, stupid tone she could easily recognize. “shut the hell up, park. you’re here more than me and yet your scores are lower, you really wanna mention who’s beating who?” she shot back with an intense glare.
her rival, sunghoon, only chuckled in a laugh at her words. “your score was lower than mine last test, second place. i don’t think you should be talking either.” he let a stupidly handsome smirk tug onto his lips.
she rolled her eyes, blood beginning to boil the more she looked at him. “who’s grade is higher hm? exactly.” the girl uttered, before turning her full back to him.
she heard him humor a chuckle before giving a faint ruffle to her hair. “we’ll see about that, nerd.” her hands went to the messy strands, huffing out an annoyed sigh as he left with a playful smile plastered.
her friends giggled at their relationship.
“girl, you and sunghoon need to get together already.” ji-woo chimed with a teasing grin.
y/n’s face morphed into disgust before furiously shaking her head. “are you crazy?? i could never be with someone like him.”
“your dynamic is cute though. a little disgusting, but cute.” min-su added in, shrugging her shoulders afterward.
“puh-lease. he hates me and i hate him, nothing could change that.”
dae’s brows slightly raised. “mhm… okay..,” he murmured.
“look, just because you guys are dating his friends, that doesn’t mean i should date him. he’s too much of an asshole anyway, who would even like him?”
she would. the girl was in complete denial, turning all her confused love into misdirected fuel for competition.
he was a distraction and she made sure she’d always see it that way. he couldn’t possibly differ her from the strong perspective she had of him being the hot, asshole nerd he was.
he was attractive, maybe a little too attractive; but his personality couldn’t agree with that. as her academic rival, he joked and played around with her, enjoying the little reactions he could get out of the cold, heartless girl.
but she couldn’t say she liked the teasings she’d receive from him. she could never admit to it because no matter how appealing he’d may be, he was still competition.
“well we’re not saying you should-“
ji-woo’s words were cut off by the entrance of mr. lee and their widely known friend, jay.
heads were turned and confused faces had morphed in onto each student.
“class, this is park jongseong from mr. yang’s class. he’s transferred to ours so his schedule can fit a few other classes, please welcome him,” he announced to everyone.
y/n’s eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of her friend who was awkwardly waving to his new peers. “hello..,” she heard him beam with a smile.
“you’re welcome to choose whichever empty seat you’d like. i’d suggest sitting next to either of my top two students, y/n,” mr. lee pointed to her, “or sunghoon. both are great choices to choose for catching up with our class.”
given that jay was a friend of both, he remained a little unsure before ultimately deciding to sit next to y/n.
he placed himself on the right side of her, giving sunghoon a clear shot of the two alarmingly close to each other. he let a puff of air slip by his lips as he subtly rolled his eyes.
“could’ve sat next to me but chose to sit next to that loser?” he silently fumed in his seat, forcing his attention away from the two who were conversing.
sunghoon didn’t know why but his heart was burning, aching almost. he’s never felt this way before. seeing how the girl he attempted to hate smile and smack his friend’s shoulders churned his stomach.
his jaw clenched and his ears fell deaf on everything else once he heard his rival call him — “park.”
“park?? park?” he guffawed with a loud, clear scoff in his throat. “she’s calling him park? my nickname she has for me??”
he angrily folded his arms as he tried to keep himself quiet. his mouth continued to spew out a few other words about her existence, along with some curse words added in for jay’s part before being interrupted — “why are you so loud?”
his head whipped to the right, meeting eyes with his friend, heeseung whose head was laying on the desk. “almost everyone can hear you, hoon. you’re showing that you like her a little too much.” the older male teased with a shit eating grin.
sunghoon exhaled a long breath before uttering a quiet — “shut up” to his friend. just then, a little note was thrown onto his desk, catching his attention.
his head cocked to the side in confusion before turning to the direction of where the paper came from.
in seconds, he found ji-woo’s boyfriend, jake, mouthing ‘open it.’
his hands crumbled it open and found the words — ‘are you jealous?’ — written on it.
hoon’s face immediately wore a frown as his brows furrowed back to his friend. in return, jake motioned for him to write back with his hand doing little scribbly lines.
he groaned out a soft sigh before complying to his friends words. ‘jealous about what?’ he wrote, faking his coy state to hide how he felt.
he gave a harsh toss back to jake, allowing the aussie to open it with a ‘pft’ leaving his lips afterward.
‘don’t act stupid, you’re looking sus ඞ’ — written back to sunghoon.
jake tried to throw it back to him but with such a bad angle toss, it ended up landing on jungwon’s desk.
he cocked a brow at the crumbled paper, opening it to find the two different sets of colored words — red from sunghoon and black from jake.
won turned to sunghoon with an eyebrow raise, giving a quick toss back to him, not before adding in his own input of course.
‘hoon’s jealous? about what? y/n? (⚆ ̫ ⚆)’ — colored blue to the tall boy.
sunghoon gave an annoyed grunt after reading his friend’s words. almost a little too harshly, his hands quickened in a pace before throwing it to jungwon once more.
‘i’m not jealous (ง •̀_•́)ง’— he rolled his eyes at his confirmation. “me? jealous?” he quietly scoffed in disbelief.
before he could toss it to jungwon’s desk, a snatch from the right was made to the paper, indicating that heeseung had caught on to their little game.
he crumbled it open, raising his brows and widening his eyes in amusement. sunghoon softly sighed as he watched the older male start writing as well. “great.. heeseung’s in on this now too.” he whispered under his breath.
min-su’s boyfriend finished his thought and gracefully threw it to jake. ‘he’s such a liar, i heard him just minutes ago talking about them (ఠꍓఠ)’ — heeseung wrote in green.
the younger boy silently laughed, widening his bright smile as he scribbled a few words back. ‘hoonie has a crush (ꗞ _ ꗞ)’ — he threw to y/n’s rival.
sunghoon opened the note before rolling his eyes and clenching his already-tense jaw. his hand wrote out his thoughts, pen undeniably denting the paper in frustration.
the passing of the note went around the four for a while, eventually reaching niki and sunoo as well; jay staying mindless to all of it because well, he was still talking to y/n.
the two conversing and turning to one another for a peer talk was the view from sunghoon’s perspective.
soon enough, mr. lee caught on as well, and just with luck on its side, sunghoon was the one to be seen with the passed note.
“one of my star students? really?” the teacher uttered in a slight scoff.
hoon’s head instantly lowered at the obvious disappointment present in his teacher’s tone. he’s never felt this sort of fizzling letdown before and he didn’t know how to take it.
“what? no, i-“ he tried to justify, only to be cut off by mr. lee — “i’m fairly disappointed, sunghoon. i expected more.”
everyone’s eyes were on him and all he could do was have an embarrassing amount of blush on his cheeks.
“you’ll serve detention for disrupting my class after school today. see me then.”
his head lowered even more, avoiding the judgmental stares received from his peers.
a snicker then came from the direction of where his rival was at. a poorly hidden snicker at that.
y/n softly snorted out laughter, hands attempting to cover her mouth but doing it very horribly with the fact that her worst enemy was just embarrassed.
sunghoon shot a glance to her, teary eyes narrowing at the girl before shifting to jay who was trying to quiet her down. there it was again. his heart painfully throbbed at how his friend interacted with her.
“well if you think it’s so funny y/n, you can join sunghoon for detention as well,” mr. lee spat to her.
almost immediately, her eyes widened at his words. “what?? but-“
“can’t wait,” he intruded with a push to his glasses. “would anyone else like to join my two students who i thought were my academic weapons before i return back to this lesson? no? okay, let’s proceed.”
min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the rest of the enhypen members avoided eye contact from the two
y/n fumed in her seat, grumbling out quiet curse words to herself as she rolled her eyes. “he gets in trouble but i somehow get sucked in? pft, asshole.” she mumbled, putting the blame on him even though it was her own fault.
from the back, hoon placed his hand over his mouth to cover himself from sneering a laugh. sure, he hated the fact that he was about to spend more time with the girl he hated (liar), but he felt satisfied that she got in just as much trouble as him. then the thought of having to see her again clouded his head, and it pissed him off once more.
karma really was a bitch.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
hours passed through the school day, and ms. choi was the last and final teacher.
with just a few minutes left, she caught everyone’s attention. ”your tests have finally been graded, so scores will be out soon. please look out for it on the bulletin board when you get the chance.” she said, giving an approval head nod seconds after the bell rang to head over.
students scattered around to the bulletin board, little pushes and shoves were made as most of y/n’s friend group rushed for their score.
“a 95! yes!” screamed ji-woo.
“92! i can live with this,” dae pointed out.
“93! holy shit, i passed!” min-su yelled.
y/n’s eyes widened. “97?? OH MY GOD! i actually passed! all that hard work paid off!” she shouted, jumping up and down in glee.
the academic group cheered together, giving hops in their designated stance all at once. they circled around, still in oblivious glee before y/n had come in contact with sunghoon’s score.
68.
her heart dropped a little for him. she immediately stopped her jumps and examined the paper.
eight rankings.. the boy went down by eight rankings, no longer being her competition for now.
she didn’t know how to feel. for as long as she could remember, they’d been going head to head for first place, and now she’s got the upper hand.
y/n was finally in the lead and for once, sunghoon wasn’t the runner up.
her eyes continuously looked over at his score. she couldn’t even lie, she’d be in distress if her score went low like that.
‘wait- no way i feel bad for him?? i should be happy that i’m finally rank one by myself.’ she thought, scoffing in disbelief with how she almost felt sympathetic for a jerk named sunghoon. but she’d understand him — the disappointed looks from his family, the eating guilt from doing bad, the expectations to never failing again — she knew what it was like.
and it was then that y/n shifted her attention from her friends to across the hall where he was. her heart instantly thumped in pity as she watched his strikingly, attractive face turn sour with every step he took.
the look of disappointment was clear in his facial expression, and she could see it herself. she almost wore a frown when watching him slowly disassociate from his conversation with the enhypen members — something that only she noticed.
the girl watched him excuse himself to leave, then it clicked into her head that she had detention with him.
“aw fuck!” she cursed aloud, catching her friend’s attentions.
“what?” asked ji-woo with a head tilt.
“she has detention with sunghoon,” jake chimed from behind, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.
min-su and dae snickered in laughs before y/n exhausted a groan. “shut up!” she yelled to them.
“have fun,” min-su’s boyfriend, heeseung, teased with a sly smile.
“you know she won’t baby,” his girl intervened, following his smile and mirroring the evil grin he had.
the single girl rolled her eyes after noticing their friends link arms with their significant others.
“it’ll be over soon, y/n. just ignore him!” dae yelled. “i mean you could talk to him but..,”
“babe, does it really look like she wants to talk to him?” jungwon asked, planting a soft peck onto his boyfriend’s cheeks afterwards.
“well i’d rather be in there than seeing all this couple stuff.” y/n refuted, huffing out a breath of air before leaving to detention in defeat.
she left the scene, hearing the remaining words of jay scream out — “i’m staying after school for a bit, so say hi if you see me!”
when she approached the class, she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she softly clenched her chest. ‘what is this feeling? pft, this is stupid,’ the girl thought while entering in.
“y/n, good to see you’ve finally arrived on time. take a seat right there,” mr. lee spoke with another push to his glasses.
a red color picked at her cheeks when she met eyes with her arch rival, sunghoon. being announced that she wasn’t late for once in front of the person she hated was way too humiliating.
but then she remembered that he got a low score and she suddenly felt better.
y/n sat across the room from him, making sure that she’d breathe no same air as him. she gave a soft sigh as she checked her phone.
[ 3:17pm ] — it read.
it’s gonna be a long while.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
about an hour passed, and detention was almost over.
the entire time the two were stuck in there, it remained silent. tension filled the air with every quiet glance they could get, every small glimpse they could steal from each other.
a few minutes later, and mr. lee had finally announced they could leave.
“i sincerely hope that my two star pupils won’t disrupt my class again, have a great rest of your day.” he murmured, lips firmly pressed together to emphasize disappointment.
y/n groaned out a sigh once the teacher had made his exit. “finally gonna go home,” she mumbled under her breath.
a clink from behind was made, indicating that sunghoon was still in the class. she gave a quick stink eye and though he couldn’t see it, she felt stupidly proud of herself.
she exited out before he could, head directly staring down onto her phone, causing her face to meet a very broad chest.
y/n shot her head up, expecting to see a stranger but instead saw a familiar face. “oh jay! you stayed!” she yelled.
his face beamed a bright smile before nudging her head. “yeah i had to for a class, how was it spending time with sunghoon?” his brows raised in amusement, enjoying how frustrated she got.
“shut up, park!” she cackled, sending a smile and a smack to him.
it was then that sunghoon’s feet were glued to the ground at the door frame. he seethed through the gaps of air in his teeth. there it was again; that stupid pounding in his heart.
the nickname ‘park’ was in a different sense of tone that he’s never heard before. a playful, sweet tone that set him off in the wrong way.
“park?” he unbelievably scoffed.
he watched the two interact from afar, hearing how they unintentionally flirted with each other was boiling his blood. jealous? no. can’t be.
“are you about to leave?” he heard jay ask her with his infamous smirk.
“yep, just waiting for my brother.” y/n beamed, showing him a bright smile that should’ve been for hoon.
the tall male rolled his eyes. she’s never that nice to him.
“i could take you home if you want?” jay asked, lips pressing into a line.
sunghoon’s heart dropped, sank even. taking her home? his arch rival? hell no.
he stepped into the scene with a firm jaw clench. arms folding in an irritated way, he spoke — “i’m gonna talk to y/n, no need to take her home.”
he stared down at jay, unintentionally burning holes into the boy who had accidentally got involved. no sense of indulging familiarity spoke in his eyes because all he could do was drag his enemy away with a tight grip on her wrist.
hoon brought her to a more secluded area, ignoring her confused whines to let go. he loosened his grip, letting go just to grasp her in his hands again. they dug into her shoulders as he pushed her back against the wall.
he furrowed his brows before keeping his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. y/n didn’t say anything as she stared at him in confusion.
only heavy breaths from him were heard before he angrily spat — “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
his teeth gritted, digging his fingers deeper into her shoulders. he didn’t know why he was acting this way. he just couldn’t stand the fact that she was so close to jay after basically spending an entire day together.
y/n’s brows furrowed at his question. “what? what’s wrong with you? i was just talking to jay.”
hoon’s head picked up at her words, finally locking gaze in a softened look she’s never seen before. “does he mean anything to you?” he croaked in a husky voice.
“he’s just a friend. why are you even asking this? you’re not my boyfriend,” the girl scoffed with a slight smile. “you’d like to be though, wouldn’t you?”
“shut up,” he seethed in a stern expression. his softened eyes turned back to a glare. y/n quickly caught onto the pent up frustration in it, hinting that his test score added in on his outburst. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to pull you away from him today, how badly i should’ve shown him that you’re not his.”
sunghoon’s face inched closer to hers, noses delicately coming in contact. she could feel his breath on hers and all she could do was feel physically weak.
“i should’ve huh?” he uttered in a scoff, trailing his gaze from her lips and back to her eyes. “would you have liked that?”
their lips were close to connecting, grazing against each others. she’d pull in but he’d pull away, and when he’d pull in, she’d pull away as well.
✩ ‘i want you to give in, i want you to give in’ ✩
tension raised and so did their body heat. y/n’s hand was firmly pushed on his chest but she didn’t actually push him away, she just liked having the chance to have her hand lay there. she felt her heartbeats get louder within each second, chest heaving at how close he’s been getting.
✩ ‘there is tension between us’ ✩
“this is not like you, sunghoon.” her brows furrowed more. “you can’t be acting like this.”
“i can’t?” he cracked with a shit eating grin. “and why can’t i?”
his head cocked to the side before questioning with his eyes. “isn’t it better for us to act like this than us acting like enemies?” he inched his lips closer once more, letting just heavy breaths be audible to ears.
✩ ‘i just wanna give in’ ✩
y/n’s hands finally pushed against his chest. “control yourself, park. you’re not my boyfriend.” she repeated, face becoming stern.
“control myself?” he laughingly mocked. “you don’t know how much i’ve been doing that in front of you. i’ve been holding myself back this entire time from doing more, and you want me to control myself, now?”
✩ ‘it’s been a secret for the longest time’ ✩
sunghoon’s grip tightened around her shoulders once more, pressing her harder against the wall.
“look at me, pretty girl.” he spoke, letting one of his hands hold onto her chin.
y/n gulped. her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sudden name change. she’s never seen this side of him before. it was new and unfamiliar, and she liked it.
✩ ‘i need you more than i want to’ ✩
hesitantly, she let her eyes fall on him.
he jerkily smiled, enjoying how his academic rival had now fallen under his touch.
“control myself?” sunghoon restated. “fine, i’ll control myself.”
he quickly backed away, grip loosening and letting go. he watched her fall into ease, hands clenching onto her chest to stop her rapid heartbeats.
a sly smirk curled onto his lips as he raised his brows. “see you tomorrow, nerd.” he uttered, walking away soon afterward so he could have the last say.
y/n stayed still in her stance. her sense of touch almost went numb as she tried to process all of what happened.
she suddenly felt her phone buzzing, indicating that her friend group was calling. her brows pinched together before declining the call, and texting that she’d join when she’d get home.
a breath of air left her mouth once she found a text notification from her rival, sunghoon.
park 👎🏼:
Let’s talk soon, pretty girl.
I don’t think I could ever control myself around you.
nothing would ever be the same between the two again.
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
716 notes · View notes
selfloverrrrrr · 20 days ago
Note
AMAZING!! hey lil ma😍😍I have a REQUEST..SMT LIKE yn has been working as a manager/secretary to her childhood bully gojo while he desperately tries get her attention for months and finally losses it one night when yn was working overtime in his office/place noncon ofcourse THATS ALL I'm really curious how you'll do it❤️❤️nd I really love the way to write I read all your oneshots😭😭🙏🙏OMG SO GOOD ND HAVE A NICE DAYY
I'm sorry if I'm too late 😭
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Overtime~
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Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....
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( All characters are aged up/18+)
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
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Y/n's POV
"this is the company? This office is really so huge" I asked. "Yes.... and best of luck" Shoko said. "You think they'll take me for the job? I'm so nervous" I replied. "Chill, girl.... don't be so nervous! I know you're capable of this. Thik about the money they'll pay then you won't be dealing with any problem" she replied placing a hand on my shoulder.
She's right. I really need money that's why I'm searching for a job. I've paid for my rent for almost three months. Shoko is making me food every day so I can save some money. But how many days can I go like this? Shoko is the one who told me about this company who is currently taking interviews for the secretary position. If I pass this my all problems will be solved.
I looked at her and smiled. "Okay...see you after the interview" I said and went out of the car. "Ok bye... I'll be waiting in the parking lot" she said and turned the. I took a deep breath and went inside the building. Some people were coming out of that building. "Gosh that CEO is so rude. Why is he so rude?!" They were talking with each other. What does they mean rude??? I'm sure I won't get this job.After waiting for almost 30 minutes they called me inside. I went inside the room. That room was as luxurious as the whole office.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU STILL COULDN'T FIND HER???? IT'S LITERALLY 3 FUCKING YEARS YOU ALL ARE WORKING TO FIND HER.... AND YOU STILL COULDN'T?! YOU ALL ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES!!!! MEET ME TODAY" I saw a tall guy yelling at his phone. He seems like the CEO. There were few workers in that room but I can tell by his dressing that he's the CEO. I couldn't see his face since he's facing the window. And why is he yelling at someone like that. Gosh I'm dead...he is literally so rude. He ended the call. "Who's next?" He asked annoyingly and then turned around. And we both froze.
Gojo's POV
Those damn dumbs.... can't even stalk properly?! Can't find a girl in the whole japan?! Y/n was in my college. She left the city just because I bullied her? How dare she? After graduation I haven't seen her. I tried to ignore the feelings I felt but I couldn't. I controlled myself for 2 years. But after that I hired some people to find where she lives and those idiots still couldn't find?! And on the other hand the annoying interview is going on. I ended the call then turned around.
And my eyes widened and I almost froze there. Is that y/n? Am I seeing right? She came to give interview?! Fuck.... I'm not dreaming right??? So it was in both of our fates? So I wasn't doing anything wrong? If our fate made this that really means she is mine...or maybe I've to make her mine? firstly I've been sure that she's y/n and not her lookalike. From her expressions I'm 99% sure she's y/n.
I sat on my chair. "So what's your name?" I asked. I can tell she's nervous. "I'm.... I'm y/n....y/n l/n" she replied. I couldn't hold back my smirk. After all those years I finally found her? And like this? Never imagined. And..... she's feeling uncomfortable. "So why do you want this job?" I asked. "I really need money.... I can't pay for my rent for months" she replied.
"okay give me your qualifications" I said. She handed me a file. My eyes scanned over the documents. "Hmm... okay. Gotta boyfriend?" I asked. "Huh?" She was shocked. "I mean I don't want destruction for my secretary" I said. "Oh...no. I don't have a boyfriend" she replied. RELIEF. "Okay... join from tomorrow and yuta? Tell the other interviews to go back" I said.
Y/n's POV
I left the room. My heart felt like it's gonna burst. Wtf did just happened?! The CEO is Gojo?! The guy who made me cry my whole childhood till the college? And now he just hired me as his secretary?! Fuckkkkkkk too much happened today. I don't have any other choice I have to do this job. I really need money. I sighed loudly and went to the parking lot.
"what happened?" Shoko asked as I entered the car. "I'm selected" I replied with a smile. My head was hurting so much so I thought not to tell her everything now. "That's great!!! I'm so happy! Today we're gonna order so many foods" she said and started the car. "Yes yes sure" I replied and we both went to her house.
After a month
After joining the company nothing really happened. Which I thought was surely gonna happen but it didn't. And I'm glad that it didn't happen. Work was going well. Gojo didn't spoke about any of those old days. It's almost one month passed. I was checking the files in Gojo's office when my phone rang. I checked my phone it was Shoko.
I picked up the call and put it on speaker while checking the files. "Hello?" I said. "What are you doing madam?" She asked. "What else other than doing these boring shits?" I said and we both laughed. "But I'm happy that you got this job....or else I was almost ready to find a sugar daddy" she said. "Yes a hot sugar daddy" I said and we both laughed.
I suddenly heard a scoff. I turned around and saw Gojo standing there. "Shoko I'll call you later" I said and hung up the call. "When did you come back, sir?" I asked. "When you said to your friend that you're doing some shitty work here" he replied. I cursed myself under my breath. I should look at my surroundings before saying things. "I.... It wasn't like that... I wasn't talking about your works-" before I could complete my sentence he cut off my sentence.
"yeah I know what you meant" he said and smirked. Fuck! I think my work is gone now. "Anyways I was saying we have a meeting tomorrow with the other company ceos you remember that?" He asked. Oh he's not throwing me out? Thank God! "Yes... yes sir I do remember" I replied. "Okay so make sure the files are ready and you have to do overtime after the meeting tomorrow okay?" He asked. "Yeah it's fine" I replied.
Gojo's POV
The next day
The CEO of other companies arrived. The meeting was about to start. We sat on our seats. I noticed that Sukuna was looking at y/n. I rolled my eyes. The meeting started. And he's still staring at her?! Tf does he want?! He has a secretary as well...why is he looking at mine?! WAIT! DID HE JUST LOOKED AT HER THIGHS?! those are mine to stare at. I can't blame that short skirt will make anyone stare but he shouldn't!!!
The meeting ended. Suguru Geto aka my best friend and CEO of another company came to me. We shook hands and we were talking. I looked away for a bit and I saw Sukuna approaching y/n. He went to her and called her. She turned around and gave him a smile. he offered a hand to shake. She took his hand. And suddenly HE HUGGED HER?! She doesn't look like she was expecting that. I went to them and called Sukuna.
"yo... Sukuna" I said. He looked at me and let go of her. "Yeah" he replied and came towards me. I offered a hand and he took it. I pressed his hand tightly. "Don't even look at her" I said with grinded teeth then let go of his hand. He looked at his now red hand then at me. Then smirked. "Well that's was a new way to say hello but okay.... gonna see you later and her as well" he said and they all went out. I clenched my jaw.
In the evening
We both reached my house. She has overtime today. My private office is just beside my bedroom. I told her to go there and I went to the bathroom to wash my face. My mind was replying Sukuna hugging y/n. I just can't stand it... she's fucking mine can't he just understand?!. I went out and went to the office and sat on the couch. She was standing beside the table and was checking some files on the table. And I was behind her.
She slightly bend over to see the files. Fuck....bend a little more lemme see what is mine. "Three products came for collaboration. One of them is beer. So I already declined that. You said you don't want to collaborate with any alcoholic product that's why" she said. "Hmmm..." I replied and my concentration was still on her ass.
"and then a Condom company. They said they made stretchable condoms which will fit everyone. And then a perfume company claiming that their perfume lasts more than 14 hours" she said. "Hmm" I replied. "If you agree I'll send it to the test then we can collaborate with them" she said. I stood up and walked towards her whose back was still facing me.
Y/n's POV
I was putting down the file from my hand when I almost tripped over the table from a force from my back. I turned around my head and saw Gojo standing there. His front pressed against my back. "What were you talking with Sukuna?" He asked. "What?" I asked. "I SAID WHAT WERE YOU TAKING WITH SUKUNA?!" He screamed. I got nervous. "N-Nothing.... h-he was saying h-he liked my outfit then hugged me all of a sudden " I replied.
"you're not lying?" Gojo asked. "N-No sir...i-I'm not" I replied. My heart pumping loudly. He smirked and made me turn around. "You know y/n... I miss those days..." He said and pressed his crotch against my thigh. "I really really reallyyyyyy miss your screams" he said. Then I felt his hand reaching underside of my breast. I stopped his. "G-gojo P-Please" I said. I felt like I'm going to cry.
"one touch and sir became Gojo?" He asked with a smirk. "G-gojo P-Please don't" I said. "You know what...." He said and picked up the sample condom from the table "why should I send it on test when I can test it myself" he said and chuckled. "No no no please" I cried out. He picked me up on his shoulder and took me to his bedroom. Then threw me on the bed.
He started undoing his shirt flexing his toned body. "Gojo please.... you're out of your mind" I said. He crawled towards me then pinned me underneath him. "Now you gonna tell me what to do?" He asked grabbing my chin roughly. His nails digging into my skin. I started crying. "ANSWER ME!" He ordered. I shook my head left and right. "N-No" I replied. "Then you should shut the fuck up" he said and I sobbed.
He pressed his lips on mine. Kissed me roughly. Forcing me to open my mouth and then pushing his tongue inside. Exploring my mouth. He bit on my lower lip. The giving open mouthed kisses from jaw to collarbone. Leaving hickeys all over. And the thing haunting me was his laugh. The evil laugh he's laughing. He sat up then grabbed his shirt and tore it off.
"g-gojo P-Please please don't" I cried and Tried to cover me. But he grabbed my hands and pushed them apart. "Do you remember the day you came for the interview and I was screaming on my phone? That I hired some people to find someone but they couldn't?" He asked. "I was talking about you....I hired them to find you and you know why?" He asked and brought his face close to mine.
"because I'm soooo fucking obsessed with you" he said then smirked again. I was scared instead of shocked because I know that's gonna make my life a nightmare.He took off my bra. I tried to protest but nothing happened. He looked at my boobs with lust in his eyes and didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation.
Then he took off my pantie."you look better without it" he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, I'm sure you were imagining your boss doing dirty things with you ~". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.
His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " G-gojo no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. Why was this happening with me?! I shouldn't have accepted to work in his office in the first place! He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself.
With a few more thrusts I came. He looked at me and smirked. "You liked it huh?" He asked and laughed. He was still thrusting roughly. "Gojo please" I sobbed. I was through my legs trying to stop him. But he seemed like he was liking it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and "look you saying you don't want this and already going to cum again before me"he whispered. He started rubbing my clit with his thumb again and my fell back moaning loudly his name. And that's what he was waiting for.
I came again. Shame grabbed me all over. I looked away and couldn't even look at him. "Awww is someone ashamed?" He asked. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside..." I moaned. He looked down at me. " Call me daddy.... say that it feels so good... and maybe I won't cum inside" He said while thrusting. I sobbed looking at him. He spanked me"come on...you can do better " he said. "I-It feels so good... daddy" I whispered to him. He kissed me and whispered"good girl". But he didn't pull out. His thrust became harder. "W-wait...you said you'll pull out" I said. "I said maybe" he whispered with a smirk. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.
"huhhhh... fuck I always knew you would feel so good. Those porn videos weren't working. Of course those weren't you.... I don't know how those stupids jerk off using those.... but who cares? I got you permanently " he said with a smirk look at my teary face.
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Give me your requests guys...
I love when you give me your requests 💕
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theshadowrealmitself · 2 years ago
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I’m on some weird side of TikTok that hates Gwen for some reason and I’m terrified of looking on tumblr and seeing if that’s just the majority opinion, but anyways my thoughts on it:
So most of the videos I’ve seen on hating Gwen are about her “not being there for Miles” and because “she didn’t tell him”, and I don’t think those people watched the movie because
1.) Gwen joined an organization. An organization with rules. An organization with rules with tracking technology. There’s no way that they would’ve been okay with her just visiting Miles. Yeah she visited other Spideys, but those Spideys were a part of the organization.
If they had caught her visiting Miles for no reason, which they would have most likely noticed immediately, if not because of the tracking technology, then because of Jessica checking in on her often as her mentor that vouched for her, she could have been kicked out of the organization. Which for Gwen meant going back to her universe where she’d either be homeless and on run from the law, or just in jail.
There was no way she could have just visited beforehand, and they most likely had her on strict rules on not contacting him too (because this is an organization that tries to prevent the multiverse from breaking down, there’s no way they didn’t have strict rules), but the second Gwen was able to go to his universe, the very first thing she does, is stop by his house.
In fact, her mission is a second priority to her, she just leaves a tracker where the Spot is going to be, and then focuses on spending time with Miles.
2.) She tells him, then what? Either he accepts it, and just,, waits for his dad to die, knowing it’s not an event that he’s allowed to change (to their knowledge), or he fights against it, which would be the natural instinct of a 15 year old hearing that a loved one they’re close to is about to be killed, which would then put his entire universe at risk.
You heard them, they can fix Pavitr’s timeline “if they’re lucky,” most likely if Miles saved his dad and his universe started collapsing, they might not be able to save it, then he doesn’t just lose his dad, he loses everyone (if they let him join the society, would he be able to if his universe goes or does he go with it?)
Yeah some of the Spideys have some suspicions on whether or not interfering with the canon actually does cause a universe to collapse, but the only for sure facts they have is that Miguel fucked with a universe’s canon and that universe fell apart, it’s too risky to test it out on a hunch, and y’all wanted her to still risk it? knowing that there’s a 50/50 chance Miles still tries to save his dad and accidentally takes down his whole universe???
Now we as the audience have different information, and we’re pretty sure Miguel is wrong about the canon events, but you gotta think about what the characters know in universe, and what Gwen knows is that a Spidey wouldn’t want to just sit back and let a loved one die, and that screwing with canon might cost someone waaaay more than just one loved one
So Gwen not telling Miles anything and not visiting him wasn’t actually her flaws in the movie, yeah we felt betrayed that she did that, because it’s from Miles’ pov and Miles felt betrayed, but just because we wished she had done something different, doesn’t mean that her actions were wrong
Tragically, knowing what she knew, her mistake in the movie wasn’t “not being there more for Miles,” it was actually being there for him and visiting him, instead of avoiding him and focusing on her mission to capture the Spot, because if she had done that, then she could’ve stopped him before he started screwing with the multiverse
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iwannascreameurekaa · 7 months ago
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Percy Jackson fans who refuse to read trials of Apollo kinda piss me off
I've only heard a few reasons on my people don't want to read TOA but most of the reasons are honestly stupid... and bullshit so
! Might have TOA spoilers !
reason one: Lester is annoying
no shit he's Apollo that's his whole character development thing usually when a character starts off bad that means they're going to evolve into a better person that's basic writing
reason two: caleo
valid tbh but really you just gotta Manipulate yourself into believing that Rick was 100% writing them as friends idk
but also they're only in a last part of the first book, the second, and basically no where else
reason three: the one and only Jason Grace scene
did I say spoilers? Cause there's gonna be spoilers here!! So you don't want to read a five book series because one of those books contain the death of a character who you didn't even particularly like until their death? Most of the fanbase disliked or even hated Jason before the burning maze and I see loads of hate towards him today but we're not getting into that rn we're talking about TOA so here's my solution if you don't want to read a characters death scene: don't read any Percy jackson book. There are plenty of people who die during any Riordan book so stop whining about one. If you don't want to read the book that's fine but saying your reason for not reading is because someone dies is stupid. Do I need to name all the people that have died throughought the series?
reason four: Percy's not in the book
It is completely valid if your favorite character is Percy and you want him to show up more but that mf has 5+ books from his pov and is also in multiple other books. He's in four out of five of the hero's of Olympus series he's in the first TOA book he's in Magnus chase too so grow up he's not going to be in every book
I think the only other reason I've seen is that they can't afford to buy the books which is completely valid you're fine
but I think that sums up my little rant
Edit: spelling, added something to the caleo part 👍
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gayofthefae · 21 days ago
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Extrapolating the full Mike and Nancy scene from that one screenshot: cinematography analysis
Just posted this then realized I have not lived up to it so let's go. We have one and only one to my memory actual camera shot of a potential Byler scene as opposed to a leak (though I could try to decipher from camera position itself for pics from afar).
And I haven't done my job to its fullest. So here we go.
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This shot is MIKE'S POV. It is a dirty OTS. I have established that when he turns he looks a bit sad. He is aware of her eyes on him. She looks sad for him, obviously, so we can gather that he is feeling sad about something but trying to hide it from her. In this shot, he is hyper-aware of her being able to see him, which explains him turning away and supports that it is to hide his face and not just for whatever task he is performing off screen.
It is also an OTS shot, but a lingering and silent one. We know that something provoked this is her so it is clearly not the beginning of the scene. New information is gained at the end and withheld or coded to start and she has clearly just learned or realized something. The OTS is pertinent, though, because a shot for non-casual dialogue. Less intimate dialogue is often shot wider - think Steve and Robin in 4x08 talking about Nancy before it shifts to Robin's fears of dying, think Mike and Will between talking about Mike and El's fight and talking about the party's heroism.
There is also something called a "reverse shot" which refers to doing the same shot you just did on person A on their scene partner when you cut to them. Because of how it lingers on her here, I would assume the scene itself is in her POV and it being a dirty OTS shot may speak to Mike's awareness but not his perspective in the overall scene and is more likely just a reverse shot of her previous dirty OTS. I would also assume that based on this visibly being a point of gained knowledge - the value having changed in the scene (this means if you start feeling/knowing one way it's gotta end up something different or you should cut the scene) - this is the end of the scene, this scene for being for the purpose of gained knowledge setting UP a future scene with the purpose of a conversation on it, but those are two separate scenes. If she immediate said what she noticed, there would be no need to focus on her while he's looking away here any more than Will needs to silently pine for Mike in the van scene like he did in the junkyard - a shot you'll notice IS absent in that scene as I just noted because the same information is provided in other ways. THIS seems to be the sole source of the information here. So it is likely the end of the scene.
From that, we can gather that they were already in OTS's and not wide shots, which are the shots most used for one on one dialogue that is meaningful to the characters. They are having a dialogue that is already intimate or important to them, unlikely a simple strategy brainstorm. I didn't feel the need to mention but will anyway as this reminded me: this seems to be only a dialogue with no other participants or witnesses present. Back to the dialogue, though, this actually is different than what I previously thought because looking down makes it look like he's working on something, which would bring a more casual tone to their conversation. But he could have also just now resumed that activity, having stopped to talk seriously. I also might be simply wrong and he's just looking down, not at anything specific.
We also know, though, from my earlier point of Nancy not yet acting on this information that, though Mike is aware of being witnessed, there is no confirmation that he knows she knows etc. The information she gained is unspoken. For example, he didn't slip up and confess his feelings for Will. That would be undeniable. Here, he is able to at least pretend she doesn't know and turn away, continuing with something else, rather than trying to correct the situation in any way. Most importantly in defining this: whatever Nancy just learned - to Mike's awareness (whether he noticed her realization or not), he is still safe. Notable by the fact that his reaction is avoidance, not desperation. At best he is oblivious, at worst he is anxious, but he is not desperate. This is not as high stakes to him as we have seen before when it comes to personal information.
All this information helps us start to put together a scene:
In a scene in Nancy's POV, Mike and Nancy are alone together. They have a serious conversation. In it, Nancy learns something about Mike, but the information is unspoken. She looks at Mike thoughtfully. He seems to be aware she is looking at him. The scene ends without further action on the topic.
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queersolaris · 2 months ago
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I watched Flow (2024) a few days ago and I have been itching to get my thoughts out in some kind of way!! So don’t mind me gushing/ psychoanalysis this absolutely amazing movie—
This post will probably be all over the place cause I am still processing everything; forgive the jumbling thoughts
I think this movie had so many angles to see it from~ I totally got the found family (MY BRAND) and climate change perspectives buuuut what got me tearing up was interpreting it as parts of a person processing trauma
“oh this feels like it should be a video game” was actually my first thought
From the silence, style, hell even the boat steering felt like a game mechanic-- it kept coming to mind that this was similar to games like Brothers: a tale of two sons or When the past was around (kinda)?
It seemed obvious that there is trauma going on; how could there not be with an event like that? The theme that got me thinking it was more so about parts was 'reflection'
Obviously it starts and ends with a scene of the cat looking at itself in the water; but there was also our lemur friend being obsessed with their reflection in the mirror. From the angle of it being about parts dealing with trauma here is my dump of thoughts— I know its not that deep but I JUST GOTTA GET THIS OUTTA ME
The stags running represents the trauma event itself and the water felt like the overwhelming feelings that come afterwards-- something you can’t control it’s depth and suffocated by as it keeps rising no matter how much you try to escape/ignore it
The cat being in a house that is already run down feels like it’s clinging onto anything that is familiar but the feelings won’t let the cat survive— feelings will create the need for change and that’s is unavoidable (especially with trauma) The run down house could also have represented the way the cat has settled in poor conditions with time, old memories from a simpler time, and that can lead to isolation
Cat = representing resilience/self sustainability through situations which is why it is the main POV; it can lead to overwhelm and helplessness when isolated but it is the adaptability that is needed to progress (throughout the movie or trauma)-- the statues at the house could also be seen as almost versions of that; moments that it was bigger, smaller, more mobile but always is the same form
Dog = it was interesting that this character was introduced at the start but not along the journey the whole time right? I thought they were a representation of surviving through socializing— there is childishness and innocence but it is mainly always seen with others or serving others
Maybe the dog even could represent a child self ; something always willing to trusts others and help selflessly They do jump in to protect but in a way that is not rejecting
Capybara = survival by freezing or floating thru the situation— which is why we get to see them already on the boat, their focus is to nurture itself for the next day… taking it one day at a time and doing what it could but not worrying too much about the things it can’t help
Bird = the opposite of our doggy friend— we meet it as the one of the first to be around others of its kind but there is a self sacrificing nature to it. Giving its food to fighting for the cats safety... it has a protective role; however in a way that reject risks of the groups survival/comfort (with the pack of dogs) yet when that over protectiveness leaves… the situation ends soon after
I wondered before the bird disappeared if it was meant to be a older self— still juxtaposed to the dog— something with more trust issues because of experience, it looks after the other parts, even steers the others in the right direction... the connection to the cat also felt right ya know?? The parts of you that are willing to adapt usually come out the most in adulthood or when you need to be your more 'mature' self
There is also the concept of the flight response it could represent; which is why they did not want to be around the pack of dogs— almost showing it wanting to run/keep away from others
It disappearing felt like maybe there was something else— like this is meant to represent passing on a part or habit that kept healing at bay but was necessary to move through the trauma
Lemur = obsessed with material and it’s own reflection— it seems to be the part that tries to survive with status and the approval of others; of course being self destructive…
Maybe representing rumination, clinging onto things that are apart of the familiarity (which is why the movie kept the ball from the house as a reoccurring object), and even masking since the mirror was something that gave it company later before realizing it wasn’t the kind of company it wanted
The foundations crumble suddenly, the overflow of emotions (water) starts to sink in; leaving things different and the same (it seems like the same forest/area). We see the stags again running like before-- which almost indicates that something similar could happen. Then the cat waits for it all to happen again; the worst. When nothing does it runs after them almost looking for an answer, I think we've all been there; trying to figure out why our responses vary or what is was about us that has changed from before that makes things easier. That's when the cat gets to see our final part:
Whale = this thing made me cry for sure because throughout the story it felt like this represented old coping mechanisms (like from childhood); something that kept you a float or going no matter how dire things became—when rock bottom would hit in the middle of floating/navigating so many feelings-- it ensured survival. Even when the cat finally learned to fish for itself (which now i wonder was meant to be like naming emotions or processing things bit by bit) the whale shows up once more almost to be a reminder that it was still around even when not fully needed. At the end when foundations crumbled, the whale is no longer able to survive… and the cat is able to thank it for its help.
The water was there the whole movie but there was little times when the cat seemed to look at it's reflection. When it did it again at the end of the movie but with whole group being together-- I was obviously crying because dammit undertale you’re right despite everything it is still you
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OH about the video game thought— looking at this from the lens of a trauma response; it did make more sense to be told as a movie; I mean with a game I can pause… I can take myself out of their experience and feel in control with a situation that is meant to not let us feel any
So being a movie instead is actually perfect
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anyarose011 · 9 months ago
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One More Reason to Control Myself {Angus Tully x Reader}
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Summary: Angus Tully knows she's hiding something. Why else would she lie about where she was the morning of Christmas Eve?
Part 5 of ?? (Masterlist)
Warnings: Swearing, period typical sexism, and mention of exploitation of a minor.
We get an Angus POV chapter, motherfuckaas!! I had fun writing from his perspective while also giving him a little more backstory as well. Also, considering I want to try and eliminate the Y/N effect, anytime there's a she or her (italicized) it's you, dear reader. Shoutout to me forgetting there was a character named Danny in the movie, so I have to cover my ass for naming the creep "Daniel". Also, part 2 of an Angus/Reader coded song (what do you mean it breaks my heart? No it doesn't!)
Word Count: 7.1k
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“So, why’d you miss supper last night, and why is little miss Jane Bennet missing breakfast now too?”
That was what Mary asked Angus and Paul Hunham at Christmas Eve breakfast. Mr. Hunham glanced around, trying not to show his nerves, but failed. “Oh, we went into town on some uh, school-related business. As for my daughter…I do not know; she wasn’t there when I woke up, have you seen her, Angus?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Mary hummed. The door opened, and in came Danny, the janitor who, even in the below freezing temperatures of winter, somehow almost had a smile on his face. Carrying in a mop and bucket, he greeted. “Good morning, everybody.”
“Good morning,” Mary pointed to the kitchen. “you can go on in and fix yourself a plate.”
He nodded. “I just saw something funny. I walked into the gym, and someone had vomited in there.”
Angus stilled as he drank his orange juice. Mary looked at him and Mr. Hunham, and the two of them looked at each other.
“You don’t say,” it was Paul who spoke first. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Angus answered loosely.
“No, uh, I’ll look into that right away. Thank you.”
Mary raised one of her brows. “I see how it is.”
Danny shook his head, walked over to Angus, and placed the bucket and mop by him before walking away. “You’re out your mind.”
Angus sighed, fiddling with the eggs on his plate. It had been a week of a frozen hell for him (perhaps not so bad…he made a friend. A friend who, despite there being billions of nerves in the body, she still managed to get on every single one of them; yet, he knows he does the same to her). Still, as Christmas Eve was supposed to be a time of excitement for the holidays, Angus Tully felt nothing of the sort.
He had no idea if it was because he was getting older, or because his father wouldn’t be there after Christmas mass, carrying him out of the car when he pretended to fall asleep.
Maybe it’s because he didn’t live in the same house anymore where the Christmases he used to love took place…
Fortunately, his moments of wintertime dread were gone once the doubles doors from the outside were opened. He watched as Mr. Hunham’s daughter entered, pulling off her gloves and unwrapping the scarf that was brought up over her hair and around her neck.
“And where were you?” Mary was the first to interrogate, sitting beside Angus, still smoking her cigarette.
She smiled, approaching the table. “Out.”
“Out where?” Her father then questioned.
Chuckling, the girl pulled out a chair by her father and sat down, taking an orange of the fruit basket, peeling it. “Just on a walk. I gotta clear my head from you people sometimes.”
Mr. Hunham shook his head, not necessarily shocked by her response, but still bewildered. “Clear your-? How long were you out?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I woke up around seven-thirty, read for a bit, then went out. So…maybe eight? Not for long, that’s for sure.”
Angus knew she was lying. He didn’t mean to peek into her room when he woke up (genuinely he didn’t, no matter what anyone says). Even though Mr. Hunham decided not to wake everyone up at the crack of dawn since Angus was the only holdover, the boy’s internal clock wouldn’t let him sleep in. So, the first thing he needed to do was go to the bathroom, and as he passed by the doorway to her room, she wasn’t there.
He didn’t think anything of it until he was eating breakfast at eight-thirty, and he still didn’t see her.
“I see.” Her father furrowed his brow, but then shrugged, going back to lunch. “Well, please at least eat something other than fruit.”
She took the whole bowl. “But it’s the candy of the good ol’ days.”
“And what are the good ol’ days?” Mary huffed,
“Ancient Rome and Greece,” she popped a grape into her mouth. “also when women had less rights than they do now.”
Angus snorted, trying to then cover up his amusement with a cough. He didn’t find women not having rights funny (please believe him), it was just unexpected of her to say. Still, he felt all eyes on him, and refused to meet any of them as he picked up a piece of bacon.
He likes to think Mr. Hunham’s daughter was smiling at him when she stood up. “Fine, I’ll get real food.”
She went to the kitchen to grab a plate, and Mary hummed. “Never thought I’d see that girl ever be happy this early in the morning.”
Angus finally looked up. “She usually isn’t?”
Mary smirked, placing her cigarette between her lips. “I don’t think you’d last a day with her if you were both ten.”
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There was nothing else to do after Mr. Hunham lectured Angus for an hour about the aqueducts in Rome. What was usually two and a half hours was only one, since the teacher claimed: “I’m feeling a little generous because of the season.”
Not because he wanted to drink alone in Dr. Woodrup’s office reading mystery novels (Don’t be ridiculous).
So, that brought Angus Tully back up to the infirmary, to do what, who fucking knows? He glanced into the other room and saw Mr. Hunham’s daughter laying on the middle bed, reading. When she looked up, sensing his presence, he instinctively hid behind the corner.
“You don’t have to be creepy anymore.” She spoke with the sarcasm he knew so well. “We’re friends, remember?”
Angus, playing it cool, entered the room, leaning against the wall. “Who says I was ever creepy to begin with?”
“I did.” She placed a bookmark in her book before setting it down and sitting up. “And you know, ordinary people just enter a room; they usually don’t bother checking.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “maybe you’ve convinced me there are ghosts here and I just want to be safe?”
Not because he was hoping she was in her room and had a reason to go talk to her (Don’t be ridiculous).
She rolled her eyes yet smiled anyway. “Took you long enough to figure out I’m always right.”
“I said ‘maybe’. What’re you reading?”
“Just now or in general?”
“Yes.”
She held up The Two Towers. “You ever read Tolkien?”
Angus sat on the spare bed across from her. “I read The Hobbit my freshman year; one of the only books I liked reading in school.”
His eyes fell to the stack of books on her nightstand. Little Women, Sense and Sensibility, Giovanni’s Room, andThe Count of Monte Cristo.  
“You’ve read all of these?” He couldn’t help but ask.
“Yeah.” She then pointed to The Count of Monte Cristo on the bottom. “Well, I actually tried to read this one when I was fourteen but got bored with it; I’m trying again.”
“Right after you reread everything else?”
“Shut up.”
She tried to sound serious, but he watched as she turned her head to try and hide her smile. He wasn’t ashamed to show her his. Angus’ eyes went back to the stack of books, and he took out Little Women, flipping to the first page.
“‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.’ Grumbled Jo.” He read aloud, then looked up from the book. “Now I know why Mr. Hunham calls you that.”
“Are you saying I’m selfish, Fitzwilliam?”
He shook his head, going back to reading. “No, you just complain a lot.”
She scoffed. “Just wait until you meet Amy. I love her, but I’m glad I don’t have sisters.”
Angus’ didn’t respond, his eyes trailing over the words on the pages. He didn’t truly know why he kept reading; whether it was out of boredom, or perhaps he was already hooked on the story, he would never tell.
“Wait,” he heard her. “are you still reading?”
“Damnit, you made me miss my spot.” He glared at her.
She already knew he didn’t mean it (that much). Still, the girl giggled, laying back down on the bed and opening The Two Towers, going back to her own reading. They were like that for ten minutes perhaps? It was a strange time that went by fast and slow. No, Angus Tully wasn’t even doing this to think of what to say to her, he was genuinely engrossed by Louisa May Alcott.
Then, it was when he was more than half-way done with the first chapter, that he asked. “Where were you this morning?”
She looked over at him. “I’m guessing you hate the book?”
“Don’t change the subject.” He sat up. “And no, it’s actually tolerable.”
“Tolerable for it being written by a woman?” She sat up as well. “And for your information, I just went to the woods. What, were you worried about me or something?”
“Maybe…I don’t know, maybe.” Were the only thoughts behind his eyes, but his mouth moved differently.
“No. Wait, you’re walking around the woods, and you’re calling me creepy?”
“What’s so creepy about walking around the woods by myself?” She questioned. “If there was someone following me, then they would be creepy, dumbass.”
“I’m just saying, I don’t know anyone who spends their time frolicking through the woods for fun.”
“You didn’t really know anyone, but neither did I, so we’re even.” She stood up, going to the window to look out of it. “I also prefer frolicking through flower fields, but this isn’t the best season for that.”
Angus hummed. “Yeah, I noticed.”
He debated on asking her why she was out there for an hour and a half; if she was in the woods, or if she was even outside. Just as he was battling with himself and wondering how to ask her without her biting his head off, he saw her tremble.
“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked.
“Come over here.” She commanded without looking at him.
He stood up immediately, and as he was halfway to the window, she giggled; a sound he had heard before but…not like this, somehow. Angus stood beside her at the window and watched as Mr. Hunham walked on the sidewalk by the quad, stretching.
“Look at that sad, little man.” She tisked.
Angus asked without looking away. “You talk about your dad like that?”
“You would too if he was yours.”
“Point made.”
They watched as the teacher picked up a stray football on the ground, and with perhaps the worst technique ever, threw it. Both she and Angus, as if her father would see them in the window, backed away from it, laughing at the absurdity.
“I almost feel bad now.” She said through her enjoyment. “That’s a lie, I don’t.”
Her honesty only caused Angus to laugh even more, and he can’t remember when the last time it was he had ever laughed this much. Especially over something so stupid.
“Well, it’s obvious he didn’t play football in high school.” He said.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “he’d go on and on about being president of Latin and Chess club.”
That’s where Angus’ amusement ceased. Even if it was at his own expense, he didn’t mind it at all since he could see just how wide her smile could get.
“Angus Tully, don’t tell me-.”
“-What’s wrong with Chess club?”
“I knew it!” She pointed at him. “You nerd!”
“You’re the one that knows all of Roman history and mythology like the back of your hand, and you’re calling me a nerd?!” He teased.
The girl snorted, crossing her arms. “Not all of it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“So why have I lost to you twice now?”
 “I just got lucky.”
“Uh huh, sure.”
“I’m serious!” He tried to brighten the strange air that settled in the room. “Your dad didn’t drill it into you for nothing.”
 “Yeah, you’re right about that.” She hummed, sitting back on the bed. “So, you’re good at chess?”
He shrugged, taking a risk and sitting next to her (with about two feet of space of course). “I guess so. My…my dad taught me how to play, and I never beat him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled, nearly losing himself in the memory. “I was like nine when this snowstorm hit, I was out of school for almost a week, and my dad and I just played the whole time.”
“So, you played without bathroom breaks, and you still didn’t win?”
“Okay, smartass.”
She smiled. “My dad tried teaching me chess and he beat me every time too.”
“You still play?”
“Hell no.”
“Why not?”
“I always cussed at my him whenever I lost, so probably not a good idea to keep going.”
Angus snickered. “How old were you?”
“Seven.”
“You were cussing at seven?”
“He was an asshole!”
“Yeah, I’ve met him.”
It was almost horrifying how her face dropped at his comment. One where it was like the words themselves shocked her. Then, before Angus could fully register what had just happened, she was laughing.
“Sorry,” she shook her head. “I’m just imaging what you looked like as a kid.”
He tried to laugh it off with her, but that odd tension crept its way back in. “I was weird.”
“So was I. You should’ve seen me when I was twelve, my father drilling Roman knowledge into my head, proclaiming how, if I wanted to be better than all of the boys in my class, I had to work for it.” She grinned. “It’s like he tried to make me a small version of him, which was impossible from the start.”
Angus nodded, not exactly knowing how to respond. “Yeah?”
“Of course.” She shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t mean to, but I feel like he sometimes forgets I might want to wear ribbons in my hair, put on makeup, girly things like that that I almost called stupid, but they’re not. But could you imagine it? My father wearing makeup and…okay, he doesn’t have much hair for ribbons, but you get it.”
“I do.” He smiled.
She nodded, and they fell into another beat of silence. It was almost a competition as to who would speak first, and in the end, she surprisingly lost. She stood up from the bed.
“I uh…I promised Mary I’d help her in the kitchen.” She walked backwards. “You’re more than welcome to keep reading my ‘tolerable’ books written by women.”
Angus hummed, trying to shake off her abrupt exit. “Yeah, I got nothing else better to do. Maybe I’ll meet you downstairs and keep harassing you?”
“Yeah sure.”
With that, she turned on her heel and scurried out of the infirmary. Angus always found her to be strange; from the moment she stepped into Mr. Hunham’s classroom in September, to her just then. Still, it was a strangeness he couldn’t help but be intrigued by. Not the same as how a scientist would study a foreign species but…he had grown quite fond of her.
He already had a liking for her that first day he met her (despite her harsh and course attitude towards the others in class). Not a liking enough to have it be a crush per say (he was still annoyed with her). Then, the whole catastrophe of him being stuck with her over Christmas break only added fuel to a fire.
A fire that has both warmed and burned him all at once.
What kind of shit was he going on about? He read half of a chapter from Little Women, and now look at him!
Not knowing what else to do with himself, Angus slid The Count of Monte Cristo out from the bottom of the stack of books. It had been one of his favorites as a kid; ironic in both a sense that he read it as a child, but also his mother of all people recommended it to him. Before he could even flip it to the first page, he saw a small gap in the middle as if there was a bookmark. He opened it and found a letter; an already opened letter.
Angus’ blood ran cold at the sight of it, and as he took it onto his hands, he turned it over. It was addressed to her, and the stamp was a toy train. He had only gotten a glance at the first letter when Teddy stole it, and he recognized the stamp.
Sighing, it almost felt like the envelope was burning in his hand as he hunched over himself. He could’ve read it…it was right there, and it was already opened so it’s not like she would’ve ever known.
But he would’ve. And he knew there was no going back if he read whatever Daniel wrote to her, and even if it wasn’t bad (how could it not be), then he knew she’d be able to sniff him out like a rat that he’d read it.
Wait…Daniel…Danny…The janitor.
“Shit!” Angus hissed, almost falling off the bed, then sprinting out of the infirmary and running blindly though the school he has gone to for months.
He ran outside without a jacket on, looking around for Mr. Hunham. When he already saw his fingers beginning to turn white in a matter of a minute, he ran back into the school and navigated the halls as if he were a bat out of hell.
It took him quite literally running into Mr. Hunham for him to finally stop.
“God almighty, Mr. Tully!” He gasped. “What is the meaning of this?!”
Angus, trying to catch his breath, said. “Mr. Hunham, I have to tell you something.”
Immediately upon noticing his distress, the teacher’s harsh demeanor and voice dropped. “Well…alright, what is it?”
“Can-.” He looked around, feeling suddenly exposed in the hallway. “Can we do this somewhere else?”
“Sure, sure.” Mr. Hunham nodded, looking around as well until his eyes landed on the first door he saw. “Let’s uh, is there fine?”
“Yeah.”
They both entered into a classroom that neither had been in before. It was smaller in size, more than likely meant for honor’s classes, but it looked like it hadn’t been dusted since the beginning of the year when parent’s would visit. When the door was shut, Mr. Hunham turned back to him.
“Now, what’s going on?”
Angus said her name. “Someone’s been sending her letters.”
“What kind of letters?” He asked, his face a mix of confusion and even a hint of denial.
“I…” Angus looked down at the one he had in hand and held it out to the teacher. Mr. Hunham took it, slipping his reading glasses out of his pocket. Angus continued. “Someone named Daniel sent her one days ago, Kountze stole it and read it aloud to everyone back in the woods. I think it’s Danny, the janitor.”
The moment he said ‘Daniel’, he’d already seen Mr. Hunham’s entire demeanor change. He saw him visibly tense, as he read the letter what must have been a million times. As time stood still in the dingy classroom, the teacher swallowed thickly.
“You said she got another letter a few days ago? Where is it?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“Mr. Kountze read it aloud, what exactly did it say?”
“I…” Angus paused, trying to remember just what was written so he wouldn’t miss a thing, “He asked her to send a picture of herself to him, and wished her a Merry Christmas. He sent her thirty-five dollars too; did he send more?”
Mr. Hunham shook his head, obviously bewildered at the amount of money. “No, he didn’t. Mr. Tully, did you even read this?”
“No.” His response was instant.
“Why not?”
Angus’ eyes trailed to the side, somehow finding the blank chalkboard much more appealing than Mr. Hunham. To be honest, anything at the time was more-.
“Angus,” His voice was stern, but not mean. It was enough to catch the boy’s attention, but not enough to scare him. “I need to know what you know, so we can help her.”
He took a deep breath. “Teddy made a joke that she…she…has pictures of herself in a skin mag.” It was absolute hell to watch Mr. Hunham sigh, so Angus looked away as he continued. “She didn’t say that she did, but she didn’t deny it, and I didn’t want to know whatever creepy shit Danny sent-.”
“-First off,” Mr. Hunham interrupted, rubbing his face. “this isn’t Danny the janitor.”
“How do you know?”
“Daniel,” He tried to say the name like he was a historical figure and not someone who made his skin crawl away from his body. “was...a family friend of some sort. That is all you have to know about him.”
Angus nodded, but couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, and how his stomach began to tie itself into knots as he asked. “Why did he stop being a family friend?”
“I said that’s all you have to know about him.” He said with more of a bite, then calmed himself. “I’ll speak to her about this the next time I see her, and rest assured, I won’t mention you.”
“She’ll know it’s me.” He shook his head. “I found it in one of her books when she left the infirmary after we talked.”
Mr. Hunham clutched the letter in one hand while removing his glasses with the other. “Regardless of details I cannot share with you, this little incident should not effect on how you view my daughter-.”
“-It doesn’t! I just-!” He lashed out unexpectedly at even the assumption of him finding any shred of blaming her for what was happening to her. “I just…I want her to be okay. That’s it.”
The teacher all but froze at his response, it is apparent that he was not expecting him to say that. Still, after regaining himself, he nodded. “You’re a good man for doing this, you know that, right?”
Angus scoffed, shrugging. “I don’t think she’ll talk to me ever again.”
“She may not,” he nodded. “but she also might. I won’t force her to do either. Again, thank you for letting me know.”
“Sure.”
The two of them walked out of the classroom in silence, and with Mr. Hunham’s “See you at dinner?” and his student’s nod, Angus Tully was left alone again in the grand halls of the school.
 A fate that has somehow always caught up with him ever since he got there.
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Angus read the same Popular Mechanics magazine three times over since he found it the night he was the only one left behind at Barton, and he’d gotten sick of it after the second time.
So, with nothing else better to do, and with it starting to get dark, he went down into the kitchen, where apparently everyone but Danny was, helping Mary cook. Including her. She was washing vegetables in the sink while Mary was preparing a roast, both of them laughing at someone one of them said. Mr. Hunham was just at the table, peeling potatoes like his life depended on it.
“Mary.” Angus greeted, smiling at her. Mr. Hunham’s daughter immediately turned back to the sink upon seeing him.
Mary looked up. “Speaking of…”
Deciding to ignore the strange tension in the room (He has a knack for doing that, doesn’t he?), Angus’ eyes traveled around until they landed on a dish beside him. “Oh, brownies? God yes, I want all of these.”
“Ah, ah!” Mary scolded when he took one. “Just take one. The rest is for the Christmas party tonight.”
“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He said her name. “Did you know there’s a Christmas party?”
She didn’t turn around, and only responded with. “Uh-.”
“-Yes, at Miss Crane’s house.” Mary interrupted her. “She and I are only going for a little bit, show our faces, and say we were there. Well, she might stick around since her little friend is there. You know, Miss Crane said she invited you too.”
Angus furrowed his brows, looking over at Mr. Hunham. “I want to go to the party.”
He stammered. “She-she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”
Mary shrugged. “If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take him.”
“Mary can take me.” Angus reiterated.
“No, that’s not how it works.” Mr. Hunham raised his voice a hint. “You’re under my supervision.”
Angus frowned. “So, your own kid isn’t under your supervision, but I am?”
“Don’t even think about pulling me into this.” The ‘kid’ in question shook her head, not even turning around.
Still, he scoffed, bringing his eyes back to Mr. Hunham. “Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around here and read books all day,” he turned on his heel, beginning to walk out. “but I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jesus!”
“Hey!” Mary yelled at him once he threw the brownie across the room. “Watch your mouth, young man! Not on Christmas Eve.”
Angus ignored her, storming off back to the infirmary. He didn’t even make it to his room and a bed to dramatically throw himself on and scream into a pillow. He rested his back against the wall before sliding down it. Now sitting, his shoulders still tensed at what just happened. He’d been stuck in the school for a full week, only being able to go out when he dislocated his entire shoulder.
Who the fuck did that piece of shit think he was for holding him captive?!
Closing his eyes, he thought back to what Dr. Gertler told him. Sure, the guy was a quack, but once or twice he actually had a few things that helped him. Angus breathed in, counting to four, held it for three, then released it for another four.
He repeated that until he felt the tension (mostly) fall away from him, and there was even a hint of calmness in his head.
Which was then lost when he opened his eyes, and she was peeking from around the corner.
“Jesus!” He gasped, and she immediately hid. Once his heart stopped beating so damn fast, he said. “Okay, now who’s being creepy?”
“…Me.” She said after a moment’s silence, still hiding.
Sighing, rested his head against the wall. “I’m sorry I yelled earlier.”
She finally showed herself, standing in front of him now. “I don’t think I’m the one you should apologize to but thank you. My dad said you can go to the party with Mary and I.”
That got Angus to sit up taller. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, but he’s going with us, so it won’t be that fun.” She joked.
He snickered along with her, before asking. “What about dinner?”
“We’ll probably just have it at Miss Crane’s. We’ll just have a nice lunch or something tomorrow instead of tonight.” She explained before walking into her room.
This was what caught Angus Tully off guard. She wasn’t exactly acting like her father had just confronted her about the letters, she was being too nice to him…so did she know it was him? She had to; or was he just overthinking it and getting in his own head (Something he did frequently)?
“When are we leaving?” He asked.
“In an hour!” She yelled, her voice somewhat muffled. “So, get on it, Fitzwilliam.”
“Anything you say, Amy!”
He ran off before she could storm after him (like he assumed she would), and went back into his room, which had darkened quite a bit. He went to his bag and took out the razor and shaving cream that he had only opened a few times since the beginning of the semester. He shook the can and applied the cream to his face before bringing the blades of the razor up to shave.
There was honestly no need to. It’s not like he even had “sawdust under his nose” as one would put it when talking about the mustache men would try to grow after watching Top Gun, which didn’t exist at this time, but that’s beside the point.
Even so, as he wat attempting to shave what was not there, he heard a knock, and her voice asked. “Are you decent?”
“Yep.” He answered, not even bothering to glance at the hall of lockets she had knocked from.
She came into his eyesight and stood so close to him in the mirror that he could feel the heat of her skin on his. “Move over.”
“Why?” He scoffed playfully, yet still did so.
It was only then he noticed the small makeup bag she had in her hand, and she placed it on the sink before opening it and taking out a sponge and small jar of liquid that matched her skin tone (it was foundation; he’d heard the word before but didn’t know it was that until perhaps a year later).
“The lighting’s better in here.” She answered, getting close to the mirror and dabbing the liquid on the sponge and upon her face.
Angus took a second (and only a second, if he took any longer she’d yell at him) to look at her entire self, and saw that she was wearing a dress. A dress that he would never have imagined on her. Her hair was almost the same as always...but there was something more to it he couldn't quite verbalize.
She was still herself, and it was silly to Angus Tully that it took a different dress and perhaps some makeup (something he’d hardly see her wear) to realize just how…just how…
“You look…” His mouth trailed off faster than his brain before he could stop himself.
After finishing her foundation, she took out a powder and brush. As she applied the powder, she glanced up at him through the mirror, a smirk on her face that was holding back a laugh. “Yeah?”
He couldn't call her ‘pretty’ (both because she’d never talk to him again, and that would be belittling her), and he couldn't call her ‘beautiful’ (she just wouldn’t talk to him again period; and he’d probably be scaring her off). So, apparently, the best thing he could think of in a limited amount of time was-.
“-Like a girl.”
Oh, how attractive it was to open one of the windows and jump out of it. If it wasn’t the fall that would kill him, it would certainly be freezing to death in a foot of snow.
Instead, to his surprise, while she momentarily scowled at him (as she should have), she giggled. Shaking her head, she said. “I would say you look like a man, but there’s nothing about you to prove that.”
As his heart began to beat again from her apparent lack of offense, he took the towel off the rack and wiped the residue cream off his face. “Oh yeah? What am I then?”
“A boy.” She set down the brush and took out a small tube of liquid, shaking it. “A tall, little boy.”
He snorted, walking away from the mirror when her gaze became just a little too much. “You said you were friends with Miss Crane’s niece?”
“Yes.” Her tone changed somewhat (or was he just overthinking it).
“Do you think I could-?”
“-Should I put on eyeshadow?”
He blinked. “Huh?”
“You know,” she turned over her shoulder. “the color that goes on the eyelids?”
“I know what eyeshadow is. I’m not that big into makeup, so I don’t know.”
“Really?” She teased. “You aren’t into makeup?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She turned back to the mirror, opening the tube. “Nothing.”
Angus’ eyes scrunched as he smiled at her playfulness. “Well-.”
“-Shut up.” She interrupted him.
He scowled. “Huh?”
She had the pen (it was eyeliner; he actually knew what that was) hovering over her right eye, and she was glancing at him again through the mirror. “I’m doing the most important part, and it’s the one I’m horrible at, so I need complete silence.”
Angus Tully merely nodded, looking away. He didn’t know how long she took, but she knew she was finished when he heard her gasp.
“I did it!” He looked back and saw that she turned to him with the biggest smile on her face, and blackened wings kissing the corner of her eyes. “I did it!”
He could only nod. “Yeah, it looks good.”
She grinned from ear to ear before turning back to the mirror, setting down her eyeliner and getting out an eyelash curler. “Could I ask you a question, even though you’ll feel stupid afterwards?”
“Do your worst.”
“Why ‘Amy’?”
Angus felt safe to smile at that. “Does that bother you?”
“Why, on God’s green earth, would you say I was like Amy?!”
“Well,” he shrugged. “it pisses you off, that’s the first reason. Second is…she grew on me.”
She scowled, turning to look at him. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“I mean…you made her out to be so annoying, and someone who complains a lot which, yes she does. But she’s funny, and she sticks to herself like Jo does, but…I don’t know, I just like her.”
Her face fell for the second time that day; but not like it did that afternoon when he made a joke about her father. No, this time, he knew it was because she truly didn’t think he would say anything like that.
And, for the first time since he’d known her, she almost looked shy.
Something he thought would be the thing that terrified him the most that entire Christmas break.
So, when she didn’t respond, and wanting to disrupt the awkward silence, he then asked. “Wait, why was your dad so against going, but now he’s fine with it?”
She looked back at the mirror, looking at him through it. “Besides the fact it wouldn’t be fair that you’d be stuck here while I’d go, he has a crush on Miss Crane.”
Angus snorted. “Figures.”
She shrugged. “I kind of always knew. I mean, she’s worked here for five years, but I think he only started liking her last year. I’m also not sure what he’s more afraid of; how I’d react to him liking someone after Mom died, or him just liking her period.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“My mother’s been in the ground for six years.” She decided to take the eyelash curler back in her hand, then brought it up to one of her eyes. “We still visit her of course. She wasn’t selfish either, and it’s been so long, so I don’t think she’d mind. Besides, I’m going to technically graduate next semester, and I don’t want to be stuck here, but I also don’t want him to be alone. Mary’s really his only friend so…yeah, I think I’d be okay if he was with Miss Crane.”
Angus nodded. At first, it felt almost invasive and even wrong for her to tell him all of that so effortlessly. But…he leaned into it the more she went on. She’d been vulnerable with him before (whether she thought it or not, she had been), but this time…it wasn’t a huge confession, it was just a simple conversation.
“I don’t…” He found himself saying.
He didn’t what? What was he going to say? Something about his father? His mother? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her something.
She took the curler away from herself and turned to look at him. Her eyes…her damn-no, they weren’t damned; they were kind, gentle…but still he felt damned just as she looked at him in a way he hadn’t ever seen her look at anyone before. She was waiting for him to say something.
Say something.
Say something.
She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t done anything but stare at him, but he was suddenly twelve again. Angus Tully, with his hair that was just beginning to have out of place curls, walking into his parent’s room at two in the morning. He woke his mother up, who gasped when he touched her. After she calmed down, she was appalled to see him crying.
It wasn’t a bad dream, it wasn’t because something had happened to him at school; he didn’t know what was making him weep, but he was doing it anyway.
He could barely say anything, he babbled like a baby learning to talk, and all he could get out was “I don’t know, I don’t know.”
His mother tried her best (he liked to himself that), but she could only say “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.”
Didn’t she hear him? He didn’t know.
Even now, at seventeen, he didn’t know what to say to her.
“I don’t know how you can use that.” He glanced at the eyelash curler.
She furrowed her brow upon the change in tone. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, it looks like a torture device.”
Scoffing, she looked back to the mirror and curled the lashes of her other eyes. “You’ve just never tried it before.”
 “And I never will.”
She looked back at him once she was finished. “Are you scared?”
“No, I just don’t see the reason to.”
She shrugged. “I think you’re scared.”
“Am not.”
“Okay, then let me put mascara on you.”
He scoffed. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” She shook her head. “If you’re not scared then you’ll let me stick something in your eye. You don’t have to wear it to the party, but I think it’d be fun.”
Angus was at a loss. She was a good actress, so how was he supposed to know she wasn’t messing with him? Well…he didn’t; he just had to trust her. To be fair, he had been weird around her this whole time, so…
“I’m not doing the torture device, just the makeup.”
Her face lit up, and she took the mascara out of her bag, setting everything else inside of it. “Get over here.”
He followed, leaning against the wall by the mirror. Suddenly, as he stood in front of her, he was nervous. It wasn’t the first time he was (whether that was because of her wit, her confidence, or even her meanness), it was because it was just her.
“How uh,” he stammered. “how are we doing this.”
“Lean down first of all, fuck why are you so tall?”
“Not one of my favorite qualities.” He joked, pressing his hand against the sink for support as he lowered himself slightly.
“Meh,” she shrugged, unscrewing the cap of her mascara. “girls usually like tall guys.”
His heart flipped. “Yeah?”
She froze momentarily before continuing. “I guess. Elise told me.”
“Right.”
“Okay, close your eyes. You’re going to want to open them when you feel something touch your eye, but I promise you, you don’t want to do that.”
“Sounds good.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling of discomfort. He could feel the heat of herself hover around him, but the pain from the mascara never came.
He heard her sigh. “This isn’t going to work.”
Angus opened his eyes when he felt her draw away, and he saw her sit on one of the beds. She titled her head. “Come here.”
He didn’t know if his heart was still or was going to beat itself out of his chest. Obviously, he sat by her before but…he had to be closer to her. Angus did his best not to make a big deal of it, but he felt like he was almost watching himself outside of his body as he sat beside her and closed his eyes.
“Do you want to know what my mom called me when I was younger?”
She was trying to distract him and he knew it. “Sure.”
“Ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?”
He tensed but soon relax when she rested her hand on his cheek; it felt like she was burning him, but the way that he felt whenever he had a fever. Somehow…it was comforting.  Breathing shallowly, he answered. “Greek? Kind of.”
“Well,” he cowered away a little when he felt something brush his eyelashes but kept calm as she continued. “where my father loved Roman history and mythology, my mother was more into the Greeks. They’d go back and forth debating on which was more influential, and that was more so how they became friends. She…before I was born, she talked about naming me Eurydice because it was her favorite story. My dad was obviously against it, so that was a no. So, that’s when she’d just call me Eurydice at home a lot, just to piss him off which was funny.”
Angus hummed, paying attention to her words, but having to bite his tongue to keep himself grounded from losing himself within her touch. “What’s she like in the story?”
“Not much to her.” She moved onto his other eye. “Well, what it gives us anyway. I always had my mom tell me their story, and Eurydice kept changing. It was always who I was like growing up.”
“Really?”
“Really. I was shy around the other kids when she first told me-.”
“-You, shy?”
“Shut up, I’ll mess up your eye if you make me laugh. But yeah, so Eurydice was quiet and shyer. Then, when I’m like nine, I’m a bit more outspoken, angrier even, so she became that.”
He didn’t move his head, scared that he’d mess her up. It was then, after she stopped speaking, he could feel her breath on his face. Her hand was still warm against his cheek, and he found himself leaning into it more and more. He had not felt this sense of peace since…he couldn’t recall.
“Done.”
With one word from her, she took her hand away and he opened his eyes. She was still so close to him, and while he saw her smiling at what he assumed had been her work, it was him staring at her that made it drop. Still, she didn’t look frightened nor upset, she was just…looking at him.
The moment his eyes dropped to her lips for only a second, it was all over.
He’d thought about it, of course. He wanted to. But…like with everything about her, he froze.
She didn’t.
“You…” She stood up from the bed, straightening the skirt of her dress. “you should probably wash that off after taking a look.”
Angus didn’t have time to respond before she grabbed her makeup bag and ran off. He just sat there, trying to process if he was waiting to wake up from a dream, or if it had been in fact real.
When nothing happened, he sighed heavily, getting up and walking towards the mirror. His eyes looked different, and he felt weird. He could not tell if it was from the makeup, her, or both. Still, what he did know, was that he made a fool of himself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
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anonymous-dentist · 1 year ago
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Okay I did some vod searching and here’s Cellbit’s pov of the prison announcement (in the form of a pretty badly clipped video lol)
A couple of things to note:
The silence
The stammer
The knife
The eyes
First, the silence, because it could be easy to miss from another pov because he was already pretty quiet before. But you can see the literal second it registers what Forever had just said because the change in the silence is palpable. He didn’t even raise his voice above the noise when he asked Forever if he was being serious.
Second, the stammer. This is a man who is very good at talking. Look at him during the presidential debates, nothing was able to keep him from talking, not even his own suicide. But then here he… can’t talk. He’s that shocked, and he’s terrified. See:
Third, the knife. Now this knife. Now this knife. It’s his emotional support murder knife. He only brings it out when he feels scared, and it’s gotta be a real deep fear for him to bring it out. It’s only been a few times, namely when he’s been triggered over his past, most notably when he and Richarlyson explored the Federation prison after Pac’s kidnapping.
And then fourth, the eyes. After he takes the knife out, Cellbit’s eyes flick back and forth between Forever the audience in what appears to be genuine confusion. Because, and this is important, Forever never told Cellbit about the prison. So between the fear and the Horrors, there’s some actual legitimate confusion in there because he didn’t know about this.
So now, after all that, let’s take a look at q!Cellbit’s character in general because I know there are people who don’t know about his very tragic backstory.
So Cellbit was in prison for… something. Probably murder tbh, but that was never confirmed. He was in prison with Pac e Mike and he was a really bad person. As in, murdering people, threatening people, ripping human ears off, stabbing, inciting riots (I think???). He killed Felps. He almost got Pac and Mike to kill each other.
And then, after being left to die alone on an island, Cellbit got some goddamn help for the first time in his life.
Before prison, he was in a war (ie the Hunger Games.) Then he was in prison, and the math is hunting towards him being incarcerated prior to his eighteenth birthday. He was 18-ish when he was in prison, and he’s 26 now, and he spent those eight years in therapy. Now he’s a better person, and he’s a very scared person.
He has many triggers, but the one that’s come up the most has been prison. He killed Abueloier that first time because they were in a prison-like cell. After hearing that Pac e Mike were arrested, he almost became another person as he interrogated Foolish (just watch that vod back, the whiplash is there.) When exploring the Federation’s prison, he was visibly on edge, clutching his emotional support murder knife and tensing when he saw all of the cells and almost stabbing Cucurucho when it appeared. Foolish asked if he could arrest him, Cellbit immediately turned him down, and he went behind his husband’s back to convince Foolish not to arrest him, either. (I’m not sure if he knows in-character about the prison cell in the new murder mystery game, but he will Not be happy if he gets put in there.)
So. Prison.
He wants to be a better person, is the thing. Cellbit doesn’t like thinking about who he was as Cell- he canonically even avoids cellphones when he can (see: Abueloier.) But he can’t help what happens when he’s triggered: he killed Abueloier, he almost attacked Cucurucho and risked his whole new infiltration plan. He’s worried about hurting someone again, because he knows he’s capable of it. He might not be the best at pvp, but that doesn’t matter when half the server is just as bad as he is (/affectionate.)
He doesn’t want to hurt his family, and there being a big huge physical trigger all of a sudden in the form of this prison he wasn’t ever told about has clearly made him realize that, oh shit, this could be bad. Bad for himself, and thus bad for others.
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raccoonsface · 6 months ago
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“T-Tara?” Pt.2
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Words- About 750
Warnings- angst or fluff, idk tbh. Swearing, idk what else
Just to say some stuff, I lost my other emails’ password and that email was connected to my other account so I’m on this one now. Sorry for being gone for so long too!
Summary- Y/n and Tara have a crush on each other and go to great lengths to make sure they have them all to themselves.
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Part 1
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“Jeez the suns out early”
Tara has just woken up from her sleep, she was tired from all the running around yesterday.
She almost falls back asleep because of it but then she turns over and takes a look at her clock
“SHIT! ITS 10:30 AM IM LATE FOR SCHOOL”
She rushes to get all of her stuff packed so she can make it to school before lunch, which is at 11:30, so it shouldn’t be that hard… right?
“Okay I’m fucked… I can’t find my keys.”
Oh Well she’s fucked
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Tara’s POV
“I’m gonna fucking die”
I’m not gonna make it there in time, come on Tara run faster. Damn it’s hot out
Fuck I didn’t bring my inhaler, again?!What the fuck Tara, you’re gonna die on the side of the street. I’ve gotta sit down, yeah the sidewalk under this tree looks fine.
“Damn two days in a row”
Is this heaven? Ugh it’s too bright here.
“Hah, no this isn’t heaven Tara” oh it’s Y/n
“Well if it isn’t then what am I doing looking at a goddess” damn what’s going on right now
“Geez don’t you got the pick up lines when you’re literally gasping for air”
She’s funny, and really pretty
“Okay, Tara here you go” Her and that extra inhaler
I mean it definitely feels way better when I can breathe that’s for sure, but every time I look at her I loose my breath anyways so I don’t really see the point in it.
“You good Tara?” So kind
“Huh, oh yeah” me and my dumbass self
“Okay good… what are you doing running out here with a backpack on anyways?” Looking for a princess like you
“Oh- uhm I’m running late for school”
“Huh, I didn’t know there was school on Saturdays” shit of course it’s Saturday, that’s why my alarm didn’t go off.
“Oh… I forgot it was Saturday” oh my god you sound like an idiot Tara!
“Huh, well you need a ride to get home?” I think I’m gonna faint
“Uhm I mean if you’re willing to” Oh. My. God.
“I mean if you want me to” of course I do beautiful.
“Uh I mean yeah sure”
“Okay, yeah, alright uhm my cars over there”
“Right! Right, I gotta get up” oh my god she’s reaching out her hand towards me, oh I’m gonna die when I get home
“Thanks”
“Yeah, no problem” She seems kinda shy.. it’s probably nothing I’m over analyzing
“Damn this car seat is comfy” no like holy shit this is comfy
“Yeah, I know, they’re custom seats.” Of course they are
“Anyways where do you live?” Oh right!
“Oh uhm it’s uhh” me and my damn it stuttering
“You wanna go eat instead? I mean you must be hungry from all that running, and I don’t mean to-“ aww she’s so cute I can’t believe I survived without her before
“I’d love to go out with you- I mean yeah I’m down to go eat with you” what the hell Tara
“Huh, right, anyways where should we go?” Shit I don’t know
“Uhm, let’s go tooooooo…” I have no idea where to go eat
“How about we drive around and figure out where to eat..?” Phew!
“Yeah I think that’s probably the better idea” she’s really smart… she could be my wife..
OKAY NO Tara get yourself together. You cannot do this. But she’s so perfect.. maybe just maybe. I can’t even fight it anymore.. I need her. I need Y/n.
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Oh my god. A lot has happened in the past two months. The meaning behind this new account is between the warnings and the summary at the top.
Sorry for the short post! They’ll be way more sooner!
I have a three part series for Astrid Deetz, the last two parts will probably come out after the movie is released because I can’t really get much off of her character just from the trailer
Anyways hope you guys have had a nice day!
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kingtheghast · 2 months ago
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(My Youtube comment repost from Martyn's latest Wild Life ep | BEWARE SPOILERS)
I'm drafting this comment in my notes app because I loved this episode SO much and I need to explain why bit by bit:
Oh. my GOD that wildcard was so so fun, I can't believe so many powers fit people perfectly. This season has been so much fun, it really lives up to the name, and I think that everyone trying to figure out the wildcards or working around them or with them (like with the powers) has made the season feel closer almost? It feels like everyone was interacting with each other and it was a delight (or like maybe it's just Martyn pov, I've seen people say "watch Martynpov cuz he gets in everyone's business so you can basically figure out all the povs from his" LOL)
The My Hero Academia take on this. Oh my GODDD I'M SUCH A SUCKER FOR ADAPTING STYLES AND FORMATS FROM ONE MEDIA TO ANOTHER. It's my favourite thing EVERR and this was SUCH a good application of this, matched the theme perfectly. Cherri if you're reading this I love you and the art was amazing I had to pause and look at each character eyecatcher. AND THE CHOICE OF DOING THE ADS WAS GREAT ohhhhh the addition of the trivia bot was genius, I loved the callback to that wildcard.
I'm sorry for yapping too much but I just. Love creativity and artistry and this was packed with it- on top of all the fun that the life series inherently carries. This episode was so fun and lively and the intermission screens and ads transformed it into something else too, you could tell what it was trying to mimic yet it still felt very in-style for a Martyn video- I think cuz those are also just brimming with creativity. Love that there's just no shame or fear on going a bit off the script or off style for the sake or making something different or making a vision come true.
TDLR: I'm crazy this was amazing and it was SUCH a season finale, ty :D I'm really in awe about how creative you gotta be to pull stuff like this off, hats off to Martyn
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outlaw-apologist · 2 years ago
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Saved By The Gang | RDR2 x Reader
In which your SO saves you from your kidnappers! This was a request from AO3 :) Characters: Arthur, Hosea, Dutch, Sean, Charles GN!Reader Warnings for each story: Arthur: Graphic depictions of violence, cannibalism, and dismemberment Hosea: Graphic depictions of violence and human trafficking Dutch: Graphic depictions of violence, Dutch being himself Sean: Depictions of violence, use of strong language Charles: Graphic depictions of violence. Implied SA Notes: I kinda ended up writing these more from the characters POVs, so I hope that’s okay. I apologize for any errors of if my writing is bad. I’ve been struggling with insomnia so I'm not thinking great rn. I looked at this so much I kinda hate it lmao so I’m just gonna raw dog my mistakes :’) AO3 Link Arthur: Arthur had been gone for awhile doing the craziest things. He didn’t mean to be away from camp for so long, it just kinda happens. He decided to stop in Van Horn to finish up some quick business when he noticed your horse. Was it really-? Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he studied the markings on the horse’s coat. That definitely was your horse but you weren’t the one in the saddle. “Hey there partner.” Arthur made quick work crossing the road with long purposeful strides. “Where’d you get that there horse?”
The rider looked a bit flustered. “Isn’t’e a beaut? I found it just due south of Roanoke Valley all alone. Rider abandoned it so I thought I outta take ‘em in and give ‘em some good old lovin’.” “Roanoke Valley you say?” He scoffed. What the hell would you be doing up there? “Well, I know the owner of this fine horse and they wouldn’t just go off and leave like that. Where exactly did you find it?” “Listen Mister, I don’t want any trouble.” Agitation arose in the rider causing Arthur to throw his hands up in surrender. “No trouble here. I couldn’t care less about the horse. I just wanna make sure my friend is okay.” After careful consideration the stranger finally shrugged. “I found it drinking at the Kamassa river Northwest of Annesburg.” “Thank ya kindly.” Arthur tipped his head graciously. He hadn’t been up in that area before but the stories he heard weren’t great. This undoubtedly meant trouble. Arthur hardly mounted his horse before a bit of gossip reached his ears. “Another wagon disappeared near the mines. This time three women went missing.” “It’s gotta be that Murfree Brood. I heard they eat anyone they capture. Incestuous cannibals the lot of ‘em. Doubt we’ll ever see those poor women again.” “Shit!” A growl ripped from Arthur’s throat. His heels dug into his horse’s sides and he slapped the reigns. What if that were you? Kidnapped with those women? He needed to find you and fast. “C’mon Y/N. You better not be dead.” His heart pounded in his chest, wind whipping past as he cut off other riders on the trail in haste. He didn’t mean to be gone for so long… Away from YOU for so long… He always thought you understood it. His need to be everywhere and anywhere. And you did… You do… Yet, somehow, regret was eating at him like a deranged wolf. Snapping at the back of his mind, replaying memories upon memories of him returning to your arms after being away for ages. Arthur took for granted that you’d always be there when he gets back. He shouldn’t have left you as much as he does. He should have asked you to come with him. If you had business up in this region he could have been there to protect you. That horse is your world, he knows that. Maybe that’s why his mind was racing with so many regrets and thoughts.  That horse is your everything, if you weren’t on that horse you were probably seriously injured… or worse. That realization put a lot into perspective. It was always ‘What if I never return to Y/N?’ and never ‘What if Y/N never returns to me?’ “C’mon Morgan. Keep it together.” He had to shake these stormy thoughts away. Was it possible that he’d find you alright? Maybe a mild injury? Absolutely. But fuck, if it didn’t give him so much anxiety. Upon reaching the approximate area Arthur slowed his horse using gentle praises. “Easy now.” He reached out to pet it appreciatively, allowing his body filled with tension to drop down. Blue green eyes squinted while searching for clues or any sign of his beloved. Luckily Arthur picked up a few things while bounty hunting and it only took him ten or so minutes to find footprints he thinks matches yours. While following them he started noting how far apart your steps were. You were running. ‘Running from what?’ “Christ.” Arthur’s nose wrinkled just as the wind carried over the scent of rotting flesh. Sure enough there was a dead fellow not far from your tracks. The bullet casings surrounding the corps were definitely from your gun. Was this one of the cannibals? Arthur moved the body, flipping it over using his foot. He looked malnourished and white as paper. Even his clothes were rags. Arthur wasn’t really sure exactly what a cannibal looked like but if he had to take a guess, a cannibal would look like this feller right here. “Fuck, Y/N. What’ave you gotten yourself into?” Those sinking thoughts were back, dragging him into a pit of despair. Would he find your half eaten corpse somewhere in the woods? Are you still alive? Were you scared? You’re a shit significant other, Morgan. That’s what he told himself over and over again, shifting trough the bramble. What kind of man doesn’t know what his lover is up to? If he wasn’t so far up the ass of being ‘Arthur Morgan the big bad Outlaw’ he would know. Regret. Regret for not holding you in his arms every night. For not returning to you more often. He should have had more time with you. Should’ve spent every waking moment with you. How could he be so dense? This life was dangerous! He always stressed that to everyone who would listen. So why didn’t he spend all of his free time with you? None of you knew when your last breath would be taken, how could he waste so much precious life away from you? That fear only grew when those scared eyes focused on the disturbing image of human arms sewn together into some kind of hanging tree ornament. A gloved hand covered his mouth to suppress a gag. Gore wasn’t something that usually affected Arthur, but the thought that this could be you made him feel ill. At least he knew he was going in the right direction. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon a couple of the Brood. He couldn’t hear the exact words being said because his ears immediately attuned to your cries of pain. Creeping closer in the grass, hand on his holster, Arthur grit his teeth at the scene playing out before him. Never in his life had he felt so much white hot rage. One of the sick fucks held you by the hair while another tried to pin you down. “We’re just gonna cut yer leg off!” He laughed. “What’re ya cryin’ for?” “No!” You screamed, desperately trying to fight against them. For three nights you watched in horror as the others captured were slaughtered, tortured, and eaten. Carved like Thanksgiving turkeys. For three whole nights you couldn’t sleep, drink, or eat because you were so terrified of these monsters. They saw how scared you were and they loved it. Milking every second of it. Because of your exhausted state fighting against them was grueling. “You killed our brother, it’s only fair.” A scream ripped through you just as your flesh tore against the blunt blade of a rusty sickle. “Get away!” Everyone froze, heads snapping towards the all too familiar voice. “Arthur?” “Y/N.” Arthur caught your gaze, a look of relief washing over him. You’re alive! “Hey! Who do you think you are coming hea-” The Brood member pulling your hair didn’t have enough time to finish his sentence before his head was blown off with a crackling BANG! Silence rang out after the loud pop from Arthur’s gun, then the mans body dropped. “You shot my brother!” “And I’ll shoot you too if you don’t get the fuck outta here!” With a click of his cattleman revolver, the last man scrambled up to run. “Too slow.” A dirty finger squeezed the trigger and down he fell. You simply stared as everything unfolded before you, your cries not subsiding but becoming much quieter. After all your pain and torment… All those people gutted like human sacrifices… Arthur killed your captors so easily. “Y/N.” His voice was gentle as he knelt beside you. Finally you shattered. Sobbing violently as soon as his arms enveloped you securely. You wanted to say his name. To tell him everything that had happened but couldn’t manage anything past blubbering incoherently. Never had Arthur felt so much heartbreak. Not from any loss or any breakup he had experienced so far. You’re one of the strongest people he knew. Seeing you look so small and afraid was devastating. Especially because this should have never happened to begin with. “I know.” Was all he could say. “Shhh, I know. You’re okay.” While embracing you with one arm he peered over to inspect your thigh. “I know darlin’, I don’t wanna let you go but I need to stop the bleeding.” He quickly hushed the whimper that passed your lips upon feeling his body shift away. Arthur’s fingers trembled, fumbling with his bandanna. Christ, this affected him more than he ever could’ve imagine. It took a minute but finally he managed to tie it above your wound to limit your bloodflow before immediately picking you up. Arthur made sure you could hide your face in his chest so you didn’t have to look at any of the hanging dismemberments on your way out. “God Y/N.” His arms around you were tight. “It’s okay. I’ll protect you. It’s okay now.” He tried to console you. To console himself. Hell, if he were in your shoes this would be more traumatizing for him than the Colm O’Driscolle ordeal. He could only imagine how you feel. Arthur couldn’t even bring himself to sit you on his horse yet. The moment you were in fresh woods he dropped to his knees and held you. Rocking you, kissing your hair and breathing in your scent. Sweet nothings fell from his lips in soft shaky whispers. Pads of calloused thumbs wiping away every tear from your cheeks. All you could do was cry and cling to him. All he could do was hold you as if it were for the last time. And it almost was. The last time. “How’d you find me?” After what seemed like hours of you two embracing each other, Arthur finally helped you onto his horse and you were on your way back to camp. “Saw some feller in Van Horn ridin’ your horse. Complete coincidence.” Arthur could feel how tense that statement made you so he added quickly, “Don’t worry. I’ll get your horse back. I just wanted to make sure you were safe first.” “Thank you, Arthur. For everything.” “I know how much you love that horse, it’s nothin’.” “No, I mean… Thank you for always being there when I need you.” Silence washed over the both of you. Arthur didn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry darlin’.” You could feel him arm gently tighten around you in a loose hug. “I could’ve lost you tonight. I got to thinkin’ and… I know I haven’t been the best to you. I always prioritize everyone else. It shouldn’t be like that.” “Oh Arthur-” “I’m serious. I’ve lost Mary and Eliza. Most of my friends are long cold in their graves. I don’t know nothin’ about gods or divine intervention. Don’t know if something led me to you or not this time around….. I guess I was always feelin’ sorry for you because you’re datin’ a walkin’ target. Thought some space between us might do us some good in case I die. Never did I once consider life without you.” Arthur let out a hollow laugh which lacked any mirth or warmth. “What a fool I’ve been. I ain’t never learn my lesson. Tonight showed me that, that’s for damn sure. I dunno what you were doin’ out here but for now on if I leave camp I’m not going anywhere without you.” An exhausted smile reached your lips. “Good. My handsome man, it’s always been you and me. You just had to ask.” “You and me, huh? I like the sound of that.” You fell asleep in Arthur’s arms long before you reached camp. Arthur held you when you arrived, petting your hair as Ms. Grimshaw stitched up your leg. Arthur was needy after your attack. He never let you out of his sight and would always insist on holding you. Especially during nightmares that plagued you for months after the accident. Arthur stayed up singing to you and rocking you for many many long nights. And, of course, he got your horse back! How he did it or by what means, you didn’t care to ask. Slowly life returned to normal and the incident was long behind you both. Arthur kept his promise to take you everywhere until the very end. ___ Hosea: Five minutes. He took his eyes off of you for FIVE minutes so he could speak to the owner of a fence in San Denis while you waited for him outside, and you were gone. “Y/N?” He called out in confusion, scanning the sidewalks and streets for any sign of you. At first he’s annoyed. Did you wander off without saying anything? Hosea waved over the nearest group of men lingering nearby. “Good day. You wouldn’t happen to have seen my associate hanging around out here, would you? They seemed to have disappeared.” One of the men nodded. “Oh yeah, some nasty business I tell ya.” Well shit. “Nasty?” Hosea cocked his head, resting his hand over his holstered gun. “How so?” “These crazies came and bonked them over the head, saying they owed money or somthin’. Decided to mind my own business because they’re all brandishing guns.” “Money, huh? What way did they go?” “That way.” He pointed Eastward. “Towards the docks.” Tipping his hat, Hosea made his way down the sidewalk. He looked both ways before crossing the road, grabbing onto the trolley as it passes, riding the step until he reached the docks. The sun was setting but he knew your form like the back of his hand. It wouldn’t be too hard to spot you against the fire of the sky. However, you nor the supposed men were anywhere in sight. “Excuse me.” He flagged down a sailor and asked him if he’s seen you. He had not. Neither had the other five people he asked. Hosea knew this wasn’t good. The trail ran cold, leaving him hopeless.  There was nothing he could do but return to Shady Belle with a heavy heart. As your husband he was always supposed to protect you. Never in a million years did he think you’d be snatched away right under his nose. Mounting Silver Dollar, Hosea struggled to hold his tears at bay. The city was starting to suffocate him and he needed to leave in order to breathe and think. The weight of the world was finally settling into his old bones on the ride back. The horror the gang had experienced the last few months was devastating. The Blackwater incident aside – Arthur’s escape from Colm, Sean’s death, little Jack’s kidnapping…. Dutch wasn’t listening to reason anymore. The gang was in shambles and now… He let out a defeated sob, hanging over his horse for privacy. What was he supposed to do without you? You’re all he has left. His entire world. What if he wouldn’t be able to find you? It all happened so quickly. To think only an hour ago you were fixing his shirt collar, hanging on his arm with a smile on your face and now POOF! Gone. This was the last drop in the bucket for Hosea. Suddenly he couldn’t stop his tears no matter how hard he tried. He was tired. So god damn tired. Silver Dollar slowed to a stop just off the road. If anyone who passed-by peered close enough through the darkness they could make out the silhouette of a broken man with his head in his hands. He kicked himself for stalling your rescue. Precious time finding you, wasted. By the time he made it back to camp it was late into the night. Dragging himself up the stairs of Shady Belle he knocked on the door to Dutch’s room. Candlelight could be seen flickering through the crack of the doorway leading to Hosea believe he must still be awake. Silence. He knocked again, this time Hosea could hear the bed squeak. “You better have a good reason to disturb me.” Those words flew sharply through the cold humid air. “Dutch…” Hosea would have cursed himself for sounding so… weak. Calling out his friend’s name with a wavering voice. It was noticeable enough to immediately draw Dutch’s attention. The bed squeaked under Dutch’s weight then heavy footsteps led to the door. Hosea kept his gaze down, watching Dutch’s shadow as he moved until the door creaked open and the faint candlelight illuminated Hosea in contrast against the inky hallway. “Hosea- What happened?” “Y/N… I don’t know, it all happened so fast.” Wrapping an arm around Hosea, Dutch led him inside, guiding him to sit. “What happened to Y/N?” “I was looking for a buyer for the bonds we have left, asked them to wait outside because I was just going to be a moment. I stepped out and Y/N was gone. Apparently a group of men took them towards the docks. I tried not to arouse suspicion, I-… Maybe I should’ve gotten there faster, I don’t know…” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Y/N wasn’t there. I may have been too late.” “Someone just took them? In broad daylight?” “Just like that.” Hosea snapped his fingers. “Somethin’ aint right.” Rubbing his chin quizzically, Dutch began pacing the room. “Y/N isn’t stupid, they would’ve screamed or something. You really didn’t hear anything?” He paused to watch Hosea shake his head. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Staring down at his hands, Hosea slowly uncurled his fingers, watching the light dance over his palms. “It was a setup.” “It was a setup.” His friend repeated. “But by who?” “Could be Milton.” “I don’t think so. He’s a thorn in our side. If it were Milton he would’ve showed up in our camp already. Waving Y/N around like a prize.” “That’s very true…” Hosea only looked up when he heard Dutch abruptly halt. “It can’t be….” “What?” “Perhaps… Bronte had a hand in this? I don’t think we’ve done anything to cross him but he’s the only man in the city who could kidnap anyone in broad daylight and not a soul would tell.” He could feel the relief wash through him, the possibility bringing him a weird sense of comfort. He hoped it was Bronte. That would mean you’re probably safe and sound somewhere just like Jack was. “We’ll get Y/N back, Hosea. Let me pull some strings. We’ll find them.” The strings were pulled quite quickly as Hosea found himself waiting outside yet another fabulous party for Arthur to return. “It wasn’t Bronte.” His heart sank. “It wasn’t? Are you sure?” “Pretty sure.” Arthur leaned against the residential fence while lighting a cigarette. He was gussied up to fit the mood. “Asked around ‘n’ nobody had a clue what I was sayin’. I did, however, get this.” Held out between two fingers was a business card. Interested, Hosea accepted it. “Exotic Imports and… Impurities?” “Human trafficking. They apparently have these masquerade parties where rich folk can bid on people anonymously. I think that’s where Y/N is.” God… Was Saint Denis truly such a shit hole? He knew this place was low, but a human trafficking ring? “Are you sure?” Arthur met Hosea’s gaze with the most sincere look he could muster. “Hosea-” “I know you wouldn’t lie to me dear boy.” “I heard someone mentioning there’ll be an auction there this Friday. They mentioned someone who sounds pretty darn close to Y/N’s description in the lineup. I’ll scope the place out, maybe we can rescue Y/N sooner than that. And if not…” Hosea tucked the card into his pocket. “I guess we’re attending the masquerade.” Arthur knows how much you and Hosea are sweet on each other. How hard it was for Hosea after Bessie’s passing and how you brought life back into him. Arthur would do anything for you. So when he had to scope out where the auction will take place he took the job very seriously. He wanted to get you out as soon as possible if you were really there. The place was heavily armed, much to his dismay. An open window was easy enough to sneak into but getting you out was near impossible. He couldn't even find you. However, in a back room Arthur discovered a pile of discarded clothing. A shoe caught his eye, one he knew you wore often. Before he was able to grab it Arthur had to leave as the area filled with guards. “Y/N is in there alright. Too busy for me to get ‘em.” He reported back upon his return to camp. That’s how Hosea, Dutch, Arthur, Bill, Micah, and Charles found themselves attending one of the most unnerving ‘parties’ in San Denis on a muggy Friday evening. They looked expensive, dressed down to the newest shoes on the market. Each donning their own masquerade mask. The building looked beautiful. Expensive. Guest flooded the entrance. “Guns aren’t allowed at this event.” A doorman held his hands out while the gang handed over their weapons. They weren’t worried. If everything was going according to plan John and Javier should already be inside posing as security. Upon entering the mansion, the gang mingled and sweet-talked everyone they could. Trying to get information, word of your safety, anything. One by one they slipped out of the room to John or Javier who gave their guns back to them before joining the guests in the auction room. The auction room was massive, theatrical even. Women in glorious gowns, men who’s suits cost more than a house, they all gathered with glasses filled with alcohol of their choosing. Chatting and laughing as if they’re about to watch a play. Hosea’s stomach churned. The curtains opened to reveal the first person to be auctioned. It was a young girl trembling and sobbing. He gripped the armrest of his seat, knuckles turning white. One by one these people were being bid on. “7,000 dollars. Do I hear 7,000 dollars? 7,500. 8,000 to the man in white!” All of this stress made him want to down glass after glass of alcohol. If he didn’t need to be clear headed he would’ve. “Next up, folks, is person number 9.” You were shoved onstage. Even though your face was covered he recognized you immediately. Almost a week ago you were idly waiting outside, gazing down at your clothing trying to fix a button when you were struck from behind. Blurry vision greeted you after, god only knows how long you were unconscious. Blinking it away you tried to move but to no avail. Hands and feet bound, you were left alone in a cold room. Little light trickled into your cell. You could hear the cries and pleas of other people who were presumably prisoners too. Every time you tried to snap at or fight against the guards they beat you. They fed you just enough food and water to keep you barely alive. It was hell. Every night you prayed someone would find you. Anyone! Hosea, Arthur- were they looking for you? It had been so long…. “Get up.” You snapped awake with a groan as you were kicked. The guard pulled you up, dragging you to get washed and dressed. Stumbling into a back room after being shoved, you blinked at all the faces staring back at you. These were the people you heard crying at night. “What’s happening?” You whispered. Only one woman was brave enough to speak up. Her low voice shook with emotion. “They’re selling us.” “What!?” “Be quiet or I’ll make you quiet!” A guard snarled at you, causing you to shy away. For hours you listened silently to the auction from backstage. Was this really happening? It felt so surreal. Fear filled you as the line moved forward until you were next. A bag was forced onto your head so you couldn’t see. Fingers dug into your arms, you could feel yourself being dragged onto the stage, causing you to stumble. “Next up, folks, is person number 9.” Your breath hitched painfully. Heart racing loudly. This is it. You were about to be sold as person number 9. Bracing yourself for the bidding a loud boom crackled beside you, so loud it made your ears ring. Your head snapped in the direction it came from. Not being able to see anything, panic arose within you as the screams and sounds of running reached you. The crowd was fleeing for their lives! Gunshots popped off in the surrounding area. You ducked down in case any bullets flew your way. “Y/N!” “H-Hosea?” The bag was lifted off your head, beaming lights above glared into your eyes causing you to squint. Hosea’s face slowly came into view. He wrapped his arms around you, throwing you over his shoulder. “I’d love to have a romantic reunion with you, my dove, but I’m afraid we’re in the midst of a shootout.” “I can see that.” You groaned, hanging onto him. For an older man he sure did carry you with ease while shooting his way out with the gang backing him up on either side. “Hosea, let’s go!” Dutch shot the guard who blocked off the door. Hosea had to pass you to Arthur, who barreled through a cloud of bullets with you safely tucked in his arms. He was able to reach the rendezvous carriage, placing you inside before anyone else could enter. Hosea slid in and gathered you in his arms. “Drive, damn it!” He called out, causing the carriage to lurch violently before moving. “Oh Y/N. Oh my little dove.” He carefully looked you over as tears filled your eyes. You were shaking, veins pumping with adrenaline. Your rescue happened so quickly it made your head dizzy. Hosea’s hands were gentle as he touched you in case anything hurt or scared you in your shaken state. He examined every inch. Face was pensive, while taking in every mark and bruise on your delicate skin. “Are you seriously hurt anywhere?” “No.” You whispered, pressing against your husband for comfort. He gladly held you, kissing your lips over and over again. “I’m sorry it took me so long my love. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.” Hosea rest his head atop yours and rubbed circles on your back soothingly. “Let’s get you back to camp and fed.” “Thank you.” You nuzzled him, breathing in his comforting scent. “I knew you’d come for me. I missed you.” “I missed you too.” The rest of the ride was quiet. When the carriage parked outside of Shady Belle, Hosea scooped you up immediately. You gasped as the whole gang rushed  over to greet you. “Y/N’s back!” Abigail announced. “Oh Y/N, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Mary-Beth gushed with relief. Even Pearson was there to see you. “Welcome home Y/N. Camp ain’t the same without ya.” “Thank you everyone.” You let out a watery laugh, heart filled with love. You were so appreciated amongst this group and it showed. Hosea brought you inside, cleaning you carefully. He asked if anything hurt or if anyone touched you and you responded with yes or no. He clothed you in his own clothes, hoping his scent would bring comfort. A warm bowl of stew was pushed into your hands. Hosea held you while you ate and snuggled you up until you went to bed. He played with your hair all night, unable to sleep after losing you. ___ Dutch: Dutch doesn’t notice you’re gone until the ransom note arrives. “$3,000 in exchange for your lover?” He scoffed. “Who does he think he is? We’ll light his ass up.” The page was quickly crumpled in his hand. Dutch felt a deadly fury rise in him so great his own blood ran colder than the Upper Montana river. Colm O'Driscoll won’t get away with it this time. Not after what he’s done to Dutch’s past lover and to Arthur. “Dutch, I think we should be cool about this one. He already captured me to draw you in for the Pinkertons. He’s probably not done try’nna cut his deal with ‘em. If we ride in hot-” “Not now, Arthur. A few Pinkertons we can handle. This is Y/N we’re talking about, for Christ’s sake.” He scoffed, face snarling up in anger. “Y/N would have come for you, dear boy, had we known you were taken. Y/N would have come for you.” Arthur heaved out a sigh. He still wasn’t fully well after the green gang shot him up. “I know, Dutch. I love Y/N just as much as anyone. We ain’t ever leave one of us behind. I just think… If they want to draw us in they’ll treat Y/N right. If it’s a trap it’ll make more sense for us to come in quiet and get Y/N outta there safely.” “We don’t have time!” Dutch grabbed his gun, much to Arthur and Hosea’s exasperation. “Dutch, I know you love Y/N, but I think Arthur may be right.” “Who’s side are you on, Hosea? If that were you we would already be on the road.” He waved his gun around before holstering it. The air in camp was tense. Dutch seemed… Unsettled. Unpredictable. His eyes were crazy. Love made him crazy. “Who’s with me? John, Micah, Bill?” John and Arthur exchanged looked while Bill jumped up eagerly. Micah seemed interested but didn’t bother grabbing anything extra like the others. “I’m comin’ with you.” Arthur’s shoulders fell. He followed Dutch through camp up to The Count which Dutch mounted with ease. “No, dear boy. You rest. Watch the camp with Hosea, we should be back before dawn.” “Alright, if you say so. Be careful out there Dutch. Things are getting nasty. Bring Y/N home.” “Oh, I intend to.” With the rescue party ready Dutch rode out with his boys. “If you see an O’Driscoll, shoot. If you see a Pinkerton, shoot. We leave no one alive. Not even the women. If Colm wants to play, we’ll play. By our rules.” John moved up beside Dutch, calling out over the whistling wind. “Are you sure about this Dutch? What if Y/N gets hurt?” “Y/N isn’t getting hurt.” The words were spoken as if John’s idea was ludicrous. “Now you boys know how I feel about Y/N. And I-… Well, call me foolish, but I’ll never let any man, beast, or tycoon lay a finger on the love of my life. The moment we slaughter his sons he’ll know we mean business. Colm is many things, but stupid he is not. He knows hurting Y/N would give us cause to burn his world down piece by piece and I don’t think he could take the heat.” “As is your right, Dutch.” Micah spoke up. “The O'Driscolls should know by now you’re a kind and just man. I’m sure they understand the reckoning hurting their assets would bring.” Feeding into Dutch’s anger pleased the gang leader. “That’s what I thought.” He agreed. The rest of the ride was tense with anticipation. John knew there was nothing he could say. He just hoped you’d survive all of this. Dutch was getting sloppy and with you involved… He would slaughter the whole world if he had to. “We’re here.” Dutch announced. Night had long fallen by the time they reached the O’Driscoll hideout. “Let’s make a little noise. Micah-” Riding closer to the compound, Micah lit a stick of dynamite, throwing it over the fence. Dutch watched with great pleasure as the O’Driscoll boys caught in the blast began to scream. “Let’s show them you don’t fuck with Dutch van der Linde.” The guns came out. Time slowed down, men began to rush at them. The Count reared, spooked by the sudden barrage of bullets. Dutch shot every single O’Driscoll effortlessly, one by one. You were beginning to think Dutch wasn’t coming. Why would he after Arthur outed Colm’s setup a week ago? They had kicked your face in until your mouth filled with blood and your nose cracked in three different places. Breathing was hard with your damaged ribs. The O’Driscoll’s wasted no time in beating you to a bloody pulp before tying you up. The way you were tied was ridiculous. Your hands and feet were tied separately then were tied together to ensure you wouldn’t be able to move an inch. You guessed Arthur’s escape was a sore spot. You struggled and fought until the ropes dug angry marks, rubbing the skin away. In all honestly you usually would have half a mind to spit at or curse any O’Driscoll out, however this seemed different. It was grim, very grim. You remember how scary it was watching Arthur collapse off his horse barely alive and wondered – would you make it? Surely they won’t let an escape happen again... Dutch would probably move camp, you thought. And if you could survive… I don’t know, a week longer, he’ll come and get you. These were the thoughts running through your head while you tried to plan your survival. ‘It’ll be torture, but I can last that long’, you reassured yourself. It didn’t work. Colm killed Dutch’s girl way back, what’s stopping him from doing it again? You knew the man had a nasty streak to him. And Dutch… well... killing you sure would make Dutch slip up enough to get caught. That bastard Colm just wanted to see him hang. Many many thoughts occupied your mind as you dozed off. Aches and pains were screaming at you so being unconscious was probably best. At the brink of sleep you were jolted wide awake by a loud explosion. You froze, halting your breath, straining your ears to listen. Silence. What’s going on? BANG BANG BANG! Dutch- It had to be him! Your face lit up with hope, eyes fixated on the door. Any minute now... The O’Driscoll’s screamed, cursed, and cried out. “Get ‘em!” “Don’t let them inside!” “We gotta hold this for Colm!” Despite anticipating its happening you still flinched back when the door was kicked in. “Y/N.” Dutch sighed out of relief. Kneeling down he cut you loose, brushing the hair from your face. You both were quiet. Just taking each other in. You because you had missed him, and him because he was stunned by how badly you were beaten. “Those animals. We’ll make ‘em pay.” Dutch’s words were said more to himself than to you. “I’m alright, I can walk, I think-” Helping you up, Dutch’s eyes filled with sadness when he noticed you wincing. He could hear your chest heave with pain and it was grading against his eardrums. “I’ll carry you. Just hang on, we haven’t cleared them all yet.” Scooping you into his chest, your arms were granted purchase around his neck. Dutch was stronger than he looked. He held onto you with one arm wrapped tightly to secure you while shooting any man who ran this way with the other. “Bastards! They’re everywhere! John, Micah, let’s go!” “You get Y/N?” John asked after shooting three more men. There were so many O’Driscolls they couldn’t even take their eyes off them to check on you. “Yeah. Let’s get outta here.” Micah covered Dutch’s right while John covered his left and back. They shot the best they could until finally they were free of the building. Dutch placed you on The Count, climbing behind you. The others quickly mounted seeing as there was no way they’d win this gun battle if they stayed. “Shit! Incoming!” Bill cried out, alerting everyone to the drove of Pinkerton galloping straight towards the gang’s direction. “God dammit!” Jerking the reigns, Dutch kicked his horse into action. “This way, c’mon! Let’s lose them through the trees. We gotta hope we can outrun them.” There you were, rocketing towards salvation on a white horse. Pinkertons and O’Driscolls crashing down around you like violent ocean waves. There was so much noise to the point where your ears rang in an effort to tune it all out. Breath didn’t leave your body. Time slowed. You watched in horror. Every bullet shot by John seemed to take ages before knocking down its opponent. Bill was screaming yet not a word of it reached you. You could feel Dutch’s arm wrap tighter and tighter around your waist. Suddenly you’re soaring through the air, hair flying back against the dusty breeze. This was it. The moment of truth. The Count’s feet touched down  after leaping over a fence and suddenly time returned to normal and everything sped up in your race for life. Your heart thuds erratically, clammy hands clinging to the saddle for dear life. “Duck!” Dutch ordered and you immediately lowered your head before a low hanging branch creamed you. You stayed low Dutch’s body now covering you protectively. You couldn’t see and had no idea what was going on. Your own breathing was so loud at this point it took you awhile to register – the shooting had stopped. There was no more screaming, no more calling out or angry orders being shouted. Only the sound of four horses huffing and puffing and your own shaky breaths filled the air. “My love… Are you alright?” Dutch lifted himself off of you, his horse slowing to rest. “I…. I think so.” You gazed down at your hands and arms before looking at Dutch with wide traumatized eyes. “Oh, my little bird. I’m so sorry they hurt you. I came as soon as I could. They’ll pay for this.” Something sinister swirled behind his eyes but his fingers were gentle against your skin while caressing your face. “Come now, let’s get you cleaned up and to bed. You need rest.” Dutch kissed your shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here now. So glad.” ___ Sean: Sean thought you were mad at him. Avoiding him for some awful comment he made because he, yet again, went too far. It hurt his feelings but he decided you’d probably come back when you were ready to see him again. “Sean, have you seen Y/N?” Mary-Beth asked. “I haven’t seen Y/N since yesterday morning.” Sean’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. You weren’t the type to leave camp often or without someone accompanying you. “Christ, I haven’t. Where’d you last see them?” “Over by Kieran. I already asked him and he said Y/N helped with the horses then wandered off.” “An’ no one saw them come back?” He began power walking through camp, searching the area for you. “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Tilly and Uncle shook their heads, John just gave a shrug. “That isn’t weird to any of yous?” His voice was raised enough to get the attention of Arthur who had just rode in. “What’s goin’ on now?” “Y/N is fucking missing and no one said a damn word about it.” “Alright, alright calm down. I’m sure we can find them, where were they last?” “Oh I don’t know English, lemme just take this crystal ball out of my ass-” Sean rolled his eyes while grabbing his gun. “We’re gonna have to track them down. Think you can do that?” “Well…” Arthur wipes the sweat from his brow. “Charles taught me a few things.” He paused, gently catching Sean’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset but I need you to keep your head. I’m sure wherever Y/N is they’re okay. We’ll get them back safe.” “Speak for yourself, I always keep my wits.” “That right there is what I’m worried about.” Arthur huffed while mounting his horse. Sean was silently grateful for Arthur’s words though he’d never admit it. There was a storm churning inside of him. An ocean of guilt rocking his consciousness. If only he respected your boundaries and didn’t make that joke maybe you wouldn’t have gone missing. “We’ll bring Y/N back safe.” He repeated to himself, climbing onto his saddle. Arthur gave him an affirmative nod. They rode around the outskirts of Clemens Point looking for any sign of you. Sean felt like throwing up the whole entire time. Suspense was killing him. “Over here!” Air left his lungs in relief as soon as Arthur’s voice broke through the thick air. Walking his horse over, that relief was short lived. “Fuck.” Sean hissed. Arthur held a ripped piece of fabric clearly bloodied. The fabric was from something you wore often making it was unmistakable. “Looks like three riders were here. ‘Dunno who they could be, but…” Morgan hesitated, knowing Sean probably shouldn’t hear the next part. “There was quite the struggle.” The Irishman cursed, kicking at a nearby stone, sending it throttling into the trees. “I’ll kill every last one of ‘em! I swear it.” The Van der Linde boys followed the hoof prints best they could, using other clues to figure out what way your kidnappers may have turned when the trail disappeared. With each passing minute Sean’s knuckles turned more and more white around his reigns. “I shouldn’t have said anything. This is my fault.” His feelings were so big inside of him they spilled out of his lips like a broken dam. “I’m a right bastard.” “You two have a fight?” “Sort of… We was fuckin’ around and Y/N got sick of me and asked me to stop teasing them but they look so cute when they’re angry I just- I don’t know.” He hung his head. Arthur studied him silently as they rode. “Well… Sounds about right for you two. I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t blame you.” “Maybe not, English, but I blame myself. I just hope they’re okay.” They didn’t talk any more after that unless to comment on the path changing. A few hours away from camp they came across smoke indicating a fire, right in the general direction of your kidnappers. “Must be them.” Sean was ready to charge in, but Arthur’s hand shot out across Sean’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. “We should get to higher ground first, see what we’re dealing with.” “Are you crazy? Y/N could be there!” “That’s exactly why we can’t rush in like fools! What happened to keepin’ your wits? Do you want Y/N getting shot?” Sean’s mouth opened and closed, words getting choked up in his throat. The thought of you getting shot was about to bring tears to his eyes. Shoulders slumping forward, he sucked in a shuddering breath. “Let’s go look up that hill.” “That’s better.” Arthur snapped his kicked his feet, leading his horse higher with Sean close behind. Sean wasn’t playing around now. Knowing you might be close and that you were probably hurt- It took everything in him to quench ranging fire burning within. He whipped out his binoculars, setting eyes on the men surrounding the campfire. “Stupid Lemoyne fucks.” “Do you see Y/N?” Arthur asked. Sean moved his binoculars with his turning head. “I’ve got eyes on them. They’re tied to a wagon just outside of where they’re sitting.” He bit his lip while taking in your sorry form. You were filthy, bloodied, and your face was swollen. They clearly didn’t treat you kindly. “Let’s kill those fucks, Morgan. My baby needs me.” Without another word Sean tucked the binoculars away, charging full force down the hill, cattleman revolver in hand. He managed to shoot one guy in the throat, ducking on his horse to avoid the flying bullets. His horse galloped straight for you, stopping just shy with the intention of creating a barrier between you and the shootout. Arthur did most of the shooting while Sean nearly flung himself off his horse to cut you free. “Oh my baby! What did those bastards do to you?” He gently cleaned your face with his handkerchief, ignoring all the gory sounds echoing from behind. Sean didn’t even notice when everything became silent. You had his full undivided attention. “Sean!” You wept, wrapping your arms around his neck to bury your face into his chest. “I’m sorry baby. I should’ve never let you out of my sight. I’ve got you, my rose. I’m here now.” He kissed your hair, rubbing your back. “Did they hurt you real bad?” Tears now stung his eyes when you nodded. It was difficult seeing you this way. He loves you more than anything else in the world, seeing his partner so beaten and broken- “Shhhh. We’ll make it better.” Sean attempted to calm his tears, crying silently while burying his face in your hair. His chest was warm and welcoming after what you’ve endured. Even though every bone in your body ached all you wanted to do was hug him and you were grateful he didn’t pull away immediately and put you on a horse. “I love you. So much. I was so scared.” You whimpered. “I know, I know I’m so sorry Y/N. About everything. I should’ve never pushed your buttons. I thought you ran away.” “What?” You pulled away in confusion, studying his face. “Sean… You think I’m upset about that?” It was cute seeing Sean feel guilty over a minor playful argument, something you both have often, and you couldn’t help but to giggle. “Don’t be silly.” You reached up, wiping away his tears. Confused, Sean gently caught your hand, pressing kisses to your palm while examining the bruising on your skin. “I guess that’s who I am when I’m with you, Y/N. A silly man. C’mon now.” Carefully you were scooped up into a loving embrace. Sean placed a peck on your lips. He was afraid of hurting you further so he treated you as though you were made of glass. Once you were in his saddle he pulled himself up behind you. “Let’s get you to camp, baby. I’ll make you feel better there.” “Thank you.” You pressed your back against him in relief. Exhaustion flooded your still trembling body. You never had any doubt Sean would come for you but the experience of the Lemoyne Raiders kicking your face in was rather traumatic. “Glad to see you’re okay L/N.” Arthur shot you a little smile. “Sean here was real riled up about your disappearance. Nearly bit my head off.” A faint smile crossed your lips. You winced as your skin pulled on a bruise. “Thank you for coming too, Arthur. If you weren’t here I don’t think he would have been able to rescue me.” “Oh not this again!” Sean groaned. His arm was wrapped loosely around you and he still pressed an odd kiss to your hair here or there. “I would've done just fine!” “You shot one bullet!” Arthur pointed out with a laugh. “Then you flung yourself over your lover like some actor in one of those dramas. If I weren’t here you and Y/N would be riddled with holes by now.” “I love you Arthur Morgan, but shut up. I killed that fellow with one shot! ONE!” “What was stopping you from killing the rest of ‘em?” “Y/N needed me!” “See if I didn’t come-” “Shut up Morgan!” Listening to their familiar arguments was the best welcome home you could’ve ever wished for. Your eyes fell shut as you listened and soon the pain shooting through you and the exhaustion of being awake and afraid all night  started catching up. Slowly your body fell limp against Sean’s chest. You were only faintly aware of his arm tightening around you, keeping you safely on the horse. It was pitch black when you came to. Fear shot you awake, your eyes scanning the darkness. “Sean?” You could hear an exhausted exhale to your right, a hand reached out from the black to gently pet your hair. “I’m here baby.” There was some fumbling then a match lit, illuminating your lover who had fallen asleep sitting next to you. Sean lit a lantern and that’s when you noticed you were laying in Arthur’s cot. “We thought it best to give you some privacy until you’re in tip top shape. Said I wasn’t allowed to sleep with you in it though.” Sean leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just glad to have you back. Get some rest, no one will hurt you now. I’m here.” Relaxing again your fingers laced with Sean’s as you settled back in to sleep. ____ Charles: Charles usually minded his own business whenever you fucked off outta camp for a few days. You had been running with the gang far longer than he has and everyone knew you to be quite capable. God only knows what you’re up to half the time. Similar to Arthur, you’d go off and do your own thing then return with money or a fresh kill and a story of your adventures. Charles likes that about you. He admires your independence and how you have so much strength. When you didn’t show up to camp for a week he didn’t think anything of it. You were probably off climbing waterfalls or helping strangers. The gang carried on as normal unless Dutch wanted to offload a job onto you, then he’d ask around. “Charles.” Dutch called him over with a waggle of his finger. He already heard him calling your name and asking the ladies if they’ve seen you so Charles had an inkling as to what this was about. “Can you go find Y/N? I don’t care what it takes, just get their ass over here. We have money to make.” Charles didn’t mind being asked. Any reason to get some peace and quiet and reunite with you was a good reason in his eyes. The problem was, you were flightly, and your tracks were old. It has rained twice since you left camp. Charles followed your prints the best he could. Up into Strawberry, then to Mt.Shann where he took a break to enjoy the view and watch the birds. Charles smiled a little when he saw you had set camp there at one point. It was a beautiful place to stay, he would have done the same. He then doubled back to Owanjila lake where you had your second camp. He wondered what you were doing in the area, having absolutely no clue. He did, however, chuckle to himself when he found one of your gloves that you must have dropped. “Oh, Y/N.” The words slipping from his lips were fond and warm. He scooped the glove up deciding to store it in Taima’s saddle bag then he carried on his way. Charles began to get confused when your trail led straight back to Valentine. So… you were close to camp and didn’t stop by to rest your horse or grab supplies? That’s very unlike you. These tracks were fresher, not more than a few days old if even. Your lover became frustrated when entering town as the hoof prints belonging to your horse became lost in the bustle of main street and Charles couldn’t pick them up again. “Excuse me. Have you seen-” He began stopping residence of Valentine, asking of your whereabouts. You had been seen at the arms store and according to the man at the front desk of the Saints Hotel you stopped by for a wash only a day before. Well… If you were here yesterday you’ll probably be back at camp soon. After thanking the clerk, Charles returned to Horseshoe Overlook to inform Dutch you’d be back soon. The next day Charles awoke early. “Mr. Smith, can you please go into town and get us some supplies? Normally L/N does it but they ain’t back yet. Ms. Grimshaw ain’t too pleased.” He was attempting to enjoy his early morning coffee when Karen approached him. “Sure.” He set his cup down, accepting the list. “Did Pearson add what he needed?” “He only asked for corn.” He raised a brow in amusement, sharing a knowing look with Karen. “I understand.” Tucking it away safely Charles finished his coffee, throwing the rest out, then made his way to Taima. Your whereabouts weighed heavily on his mind during his ride into Valentine. ‘I miss Y/N’, he thought to himself ‘I hope they return soon’. Camp just wasn’t the same without you. He liked the gang alright but he liked you more. Valentine was a breath of fresh air after Blackwater. Quite literally. Charles took deep breaths, breathing in the crisp mountain air before entering town. Taima was soon hitched outside the general store where Charles leisurely strolled in. He walked around, footsteps echoing in the empty room as he gazed at the shelves. The clerk wasn’t there. “Hello?” He called out. Soon, sound of a door being swung open and rushed footsteps up the stairs filled the silence from what he assumed must have been the store room. “I’ll be right with you.” You were bound painfully tight. Ropes dug into your skin until your wrists bled. Tied to a chair and gagged. It had all happened so fast. Days ago you were going about business as usual. You stocked your ammo; took a nice long bath; and followed a dog around you wanted to pet before returning to camp, and of course, to the arms of Charles. What can you say? You love dogs and this one was particularly funny. You had grinned to yourself, studying the animal as you followed it out back. You didn’t expect to look up and be met with the stares of men who were clearly in the middle of an illegal operation. “Shit!” Your hand flew to your holster then froze as you heard a click and felt the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of your head. Your hands slowly rose as you tried to eye whoever was behind you. “Well well well, look what we have here, fellers.” “Real unfortunate, ain’t it?” You narrowed your eyes but kept silent. O’Driscolls by the looks of ‘em. “Hey…” A tall one began circling you, looking you over as if you were bait. “I remember you. You run with the Van der Linde boys, don’tcha?” This wasn’t good. “I think you’ve mistaken, mister.” “No… No I recognize you alright.” He stopped in front of you, leaning so close you had to recoil when the stench of his foul breath hit your face. “This isn’t your lucky day-” Before you could react he drew his elbow back and punched you so hard you nearly flew to the ground. Quiet laughs rang out among the group. Pain overcame you when one grabbed you by the hair, literally dragging you into the basement of their operation where you were hastily tied up and beaten several times among other unsavory happenings. For days you starved. Your face swollen beyond recognition. Only did the grocer show you any compassion. Feeding you water while muttering little ‘I’m so sorry, I wish we could let you go’s. He was a nervous man… A sweaty man. Hell you’d be nervous too if a gaggle of insane Irishmen took over the basement of your shop. You appreciated his little kindness but the weight of the situation was never lost on you. You needed to get out and soon, or else they’ll kill you. You thought of Charles and your beloved friends Arthur, Mary-Beth, and Lenny. Were they looking for you? Did they ever realize you disappeared? Today repeated the last two. The second the O’Driscolls noticed you were conscious their abuse started again up until mid morning when they left to take care of some business. The clerk made his way into the basement, removing your gag so he could give you water. “I’m sorry but you have to understand. If I let you go they’ll kill me.” You were too tired to argue with your heavily bruised jaw, sipping at the cool liquid. Suddenly a sound met your ears. Old floorboards overhead creaked with heavy footsteps. “Oh goddammit.” Cloth was shoved into your mouth once more, immediately drying your tongue. “H-Hold on. Stray here..” You glared at the clerk. Where the hell were you gonna go all tied up like this? The sweaty man dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief, opening the door that divided you from the outside world. “Hello?” A voice called out, rushing the clerk who felt so overwhelmed and frenzied with stress that he accidentally left the door open. “I’ll be right with you.” Staying coherent is a struggle for you at this point. Listening to light footsteps run up the stairs you let your head hang limp against your shoulder. “What can I help you with?” “Just here to resupply. Do you happen to have… uh… a bushel of corn?” “Corn? Yeah, we got it.” Wait… was that? CHARLES! Energy rocketed through your veins with the hope of rescue. Charles was here! Gazing around frantically you searched for something, ANYTHING. The only thing close by was a broom. Hopping your chair over to it depleted you immediately, every bruise and broken rib screaming out. But you had to do this. You had to get Charles’ attention. It was so much work just to get close enough to tip the broom over. CLINK! Your head snapped towards the stairs with anticipation. Charles read the list over again. “Actually a bushel of apples too.” CLINK! He glanced down at the stairs then at the clerk who laughed nervously. “Haha don’t mind that. Just some junk.” Charles hummed, grabbing a few cans off the shelf. “I’ll take these as well.” “Is that all for you?” Your heart squeezed in your chest. It didn’t work. ‘Charles! Charles I’m right here!’ You so badly wanted to scream. No words left your muffled mouth beyond your hearing. There had to be a way to get his attention. Nothing else was close enough to you and you didn’t have the strength to move yourself and the chair any further. The only thing you could do was throw yourself to the ground as hard as you could and hope for the best. BANG! This time Charles froze. His eyes napped towards the basement then back at the grocer.  A terrified look flashed over the man’s face. That’s suspicious... Oh- “Just some junk, huh?” “Yes sir.” In once swift movement Charles pulled out his gun, cocking the hammer. “Then you wouldn’t mind showing me what’s down there, right?” “H-Hey listen! I don’t want any trouble.” “No trouble here. If there’s nothing down there then I’ll pay and leave.” “It’s just junk mister! Honest!” “Then it should be okay if I take a look at this ‘junk’.” The clerk folded under pressure. “They said they were gonna kill me if anyone found out!” “Then get out of here and hope they don’t find you.” Charles didn’t know who ‘they’ were but he had a pretty good idea about what was going on.  He watched as the grocer fled before cautiously making his way down the stairs, cattleman revolver still drawn. Charles was stunned. All breath left his body in disbelief the second you two made eye-contact. “Y/N!” He hurdled himself towards you, picking the chair up to sit you upright before removing the gag. “What did they do to you?” Swift work was made of your binds and soon you were pulled into the comfort of his chest. Giving a whimper of pain you couldn’t help but to cry tears of relief. “Charles!” Your voice cracked. You almost thought it wouldn’t work and he would leave without you. Charles rubbed your back, pulling away to assess your injuries. “Y/N…… I-.” He didn’t know what to say.  So many emotions hit him in waves, washing over him strongly which inevitably flashed across his face. Anger at the people who hurt his beloved. Guilt for not tracking you any further. Resentment towards himself for not considering you might be missing or in trouble. Sadness. So much sadness. He had never seen you this badly beaten and it disturbed him. Quickly he tried to hide his thoughts. You were so small and frail in his arms, crying uncontrollably now. Charles could imagine by your current state that it must have been a horrible ordeal. “I’ve got you. Can you walk?” All you could do was cling to Charles while shaking your head. You felt the weight of his coat drape around your shoulder before feeling yourself being scooped up. “You found me.” Charles winced at how weak your voice sounded. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead he shushes you. “Save your energy my love. You’ve been through a lot. Let me take care of you.” It’s the least he can do after failing you so badly. As he carried you up the stairs Charles make eye-contact with Sheriff Malloy who bowed his head slightly out of respect – serving as a silent apology. “We’ll hang whoever did this.” He promised.  Deputies flooded the store actively as he spoke. "When we find ‘em, you’ll be the first to know.” “Thank you.” Those words meant nothing to Charles. The Valentine law was useless and it showed. All he could do now was shield you from curious onlookers while mounting Taima with you securely in his arms. “Are you in any pain?” He whispered, making his horse walk so the ride wouldn’t jostle you too much. “Yeah.” Charles had to lean down to catch your quiet words. “Try to rest against me. I’ll get some morphine from the Reverend. Just hang in there. I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” He was trying desperately to find the right words to say. Anything that might help you or ease your suffering. Anything that might relieve his guilt. Grasping at words floating around his mind yet none could be combined into something coherent. They rode on in silence. “Mister Strauss, Reverend. We need medicine.” Most of the gang couldn’t see what was going on, Charles had you tucked protectively against him for privacy. He knew you probably didn’t want everyone ogling at you. The air of the situation was enough for everyone to gain understanding and many sprang into action. “How bad is it?” Strauss asked. “I think their ribs are broken, maybe sprained jaw. Definitely a sprained ankle.” “Bring Y/N over here.” Arthur called, leading Charles to his cot. “Probably better than the ground. Shouldn’t be movin’ much with cracked ribs.” Your eyes fluttered open the second you were placed in the comfort of Arthur’s bed. Charles immediately helped you take medicine to ease your suffering. “Do you need anything my love?” His voice was gentle as if speaking to a spooked animal. Large calloused fingers brushed the hair from your face. “Food… Water…” Arthur gently squeezed Charles’ shoulder, earning a grateful look from his friend. “Let me.” Your love settled into a chair beside you, still playing with locks of your hair. “You’re so brave Y/N. And so incredibly smart. I’m so happy you’re safe now. I-… I’ll never let this happen to you again.” He watched you struggle to stay conscious. Maybe the food will have to wait. Slumping forward, he places a feather light kiss upon your lips. “I’m coming with you everywhere for now on.” He knew you couldn’t hear him but it eased his soul just saying those words out loud.
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grammarpedant · 7 days ago
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Crashes in here, hi this is my main blog and I just saw the tags you left on my art of Miki and the CombatBot and I'm going just a little insane over them. I've been thinking of a fic from Miki's POV for Rogue Protocol for a while and while I don't think I have the skill to pull that off I am SO EXCITED to see that someone else has had the same thought!!! Urg... I just love Miki so so much and seeing how the events unfold from its POV would be so interesting.
I think I gotta go draw Miki some more now hehe. Good luck with writing!!
(the Miki art in question)
Hehe, right? Miki is SUCH a character full of so many hidden depths and surprises, greatest of all is that it's also exactly what it looks like on the surface, in full sincerity: a sweet, kind person of a bot that cared very deeply about its friends and wanted to be able to count Murderbot among them. It also deliberately obfuscates the truth from Murderbot and from Don Abene alike on multiple occasions, it seems to sense what MB means and feels through the feed almost better than MB itself, it's a science bot with visual magnification abilities beyond MB's, when it's stressed and pressed for time it stops trying to talk like a human and goes back to its native code language; Miki has in-jokes with its human friends, but I never had a friend like me. And that's just random stuff I pulled from skimming the book looking for something else! Miki is just such a fascinating character!!
And in this fandom we just LOVE our outsider POVs, haha. I'm sure others have done or tried to do Miki POV of the book before, but I'm gonna use this moment as an opportunity to gush about the thing I want to write- I left the tags that I did because what came to me first was the bit leading up to the same scene you've depicted, the tragic beauty of Miki choosing the trajectory that it did. I have a heartwrenching final scene of Miki's POV in those moments that I absolutely cannot show anyone, not least because the scene simply will not hit as hard as it could unless I actually lay the groundwork that would give it a real punch.
Miki would be about (is about) self-determination, right, obviously. But the Miki POV I want to write would also be about a character caught between connection and alienation, a bot among humans and all that entails. —People love and protect Miki, yes, but do they understand it? Don Abene loved it, and Miki loved her too, and what about all the times they struggled to understand each other? The work that it takes to overcome miscommunication? How does Miki feel, knowing that there are some experiences it just cannot share with its human friends, nor they with it? Do they understand each other regardless? Does anybody ever really understand another person? —Miki has a way of talking that's a little clipped and which may seem "childish" to a reader at first glance; given that in times of stress it defaults back to a nonverbal-to-humans mode of bot communication, might we draw parallels between it and the semiverbal disabled experience? —For perhaps the first time in its life Miki met someone who could understand it reflexively, instinctively, empathize with its machinic experiences almost effortlessly. How does it understand this person's refusal to accept the vulnerability of connection? Does Miki understand Murderbot, and if so how much? In what ways?
Those are the themes I'd want to pull at, and to do so I'd use the motifs of Miki's scientific research function. Its literal ability to perceive the world differently from both humans and from MB, its framing of the world through numbers and measurement and factoids and analysis that is nevertheless beautiful to it, even when it struggles to put that beauty to human words. Names. Identity. Choice and free will. Emotion and connection. What Miki was thinking when it looked at MB's camera at the nebula storm and said, Pretty! The jokes and media and little moments it shares with Don Abene. The love and happiness that made it so secure in itself. If I could just get through the groundwork of it all... it would be beautiful. At least as beautiful as the art you drew.
Anyway, I hope you keep drawing Miki, friend! The art you did has already inspired me a bit more 🥰
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