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nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago

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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 8/8 [COMPLETED]

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight (final)

"Play the Game" Masterlist

You stood by the door, watching the chaos in your brother’s bedroom as he prepared for his wedding at sunset, waiting for everyone to leave so you can finally speak to him in private. He was, after all, the only one in the family you cared for enough to inform him of your decisions.

People always say you and Gojo were similar. However, those very things that made you alike also set you apart. Besides the platinum white hair and remarkable blue eyes you shared – unique even within the clan – being the absolute obvious, the similarities stopped there.

You siblings were supposed to be akin to one another, but the same things they loved about your brother were the same things people abhorred about you. You and your brother were both prodigies. He was richer than the whole clan, all assets combined being the successful businessman he was ever since he was in his teens. It was as freakish as it was awe-inspiring. You were an artist of great renown with your multi-million dollar pieces and the youngest to have been dubbed as a national artist when you were the same age as him.

But where he basked in fame and acclaim, your prominence was fueled by infamy. Gojo built an empire that served as one of the pillars of the local economy. You produced artistic pieces that inspired execration and controversy. Undeniably brilliant, yes, but absolutely contentious.

Your brother was kind. In fact, he was the best older brother one could ever ask for, and that was not lip service nor was it because of your biases towards him. You can never discount how caring he is to you, how hard he tries to make you happy and how he would go through lengths as to be the idiot just to satisfy your whims. He was just genuinely good-natured although he appeared somewhat insouciant. He had his evil streak, too, which is established in the clan, but his goodness radiated like a light that followed him wherever he went.

However, you have long accepted that your side which reflected Gojo in every way when you were younger had long died. Altruism wasn’t one of your strongest suits and you were only ever affectionate to people you had deep, deep fondness for. And that wasn’t even something common. Even your parents had always been the receiving end of your lackadaisical attitude.

He attracted people, you repelled them. Being surrounded by the good people he called friends was a testament to that no matter how vexing his personality was, and more people want to be near him. Apart from your three friends, you didn't make any more and your school life sucked because majority of your classmates hated you. For what, you didn't know. You don’t think you will ever understand.

It was your seven-year gap that made all the difference, you liked to think. It was much easier to swallow than the concept of the whole cosmos conspiring to create two creatures to be equals but of the opposite nature. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be that way, but you will always be the one looking up to him regardless if you did not choose the same path as his; regardless of whether there were no comparisons with what either of you endeavored to do.

And above everything else, you loved Satoru very much.

“Got a minute?” You began, standing before him in front of the mirror. It was rather annoying watching him struggle with the cufflinks, and you didn’t think he would manage to fix the bowtie still hanging loosely on his neck. Thus, you thought of taking charge. “Give it here.”

Gojo was surprised, but he was nonetheless happy. He wore his heart on his sleeve after all, and you could only guess it was that vulnerability he risked showing that attracted people to him. You have only learned the intricacies of such a matter recently, something you had to agree with since it all made perfect sense.

“Thank you,” he said, tilting his head to the side, watching you work on his cuffs.

“You’re really getting married, huh?” you began, feeling yourself start to falter, but you have decided. You may not have gotten him the best wedding gift materially speaking, but you swore to let him in on what was going on with you, to be honest with him like you hadn’t been for the longest time. “Who would have known?”

“Am I finally getting that emotional pre-wedding sibling talk?” he asked, walking towards the seats by the window and looking out into the garden.

“You’re getting married, not being sent away to prison. I don’t even understand why this happens during weddings,” you quipped, sighing. “But I guess you could call it that.”

He smiled at you, patting the space beside him. You did as you were told, assuming the spot, but also looking out the window, watching as the organizers made finishing touches to the garden below. No expense was spared to make the occasion as perfect as it could get. You couldn’t argue with it. Gojo deserved the best, and to him, Utahime did, too.

“I’m waiting,” he said, breaking the silence that had befallen the room. “You’ve been pacing before the door for god knows how long when you should have been getting ready.”

“I got ready much faster than you did.”

“And you look beautiful.” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing you appreciatively. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re all grown up. And what a beautiful woman you’ve become.”

You smirked. “You’re looking at your mirror image after all.”

“Well, there’s that, of course.” He laughed slightly. “But I’m not just saying that because we’re basically the same person. You really are beautiful, baby sis.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, opting for it instead of his usual choice of mussing your hair since it has already been styled for the wedding.

You just shook your head. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“So, what did you want to talk about exactly?”

“The other day…” Your voice trailed off, thinking about what to say. It wasn’t that way before between you and your brother. He was always the easiest person to talk to, always open minded and optimistic about matters. But now that you were going to discuss something that he had vocally opposed, you were a bit scared of saying anything. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t do Nanami justice if you decided to hold back now, considering that he was more than ready to speak to your brother.

You’ve both initially decided to sit Gojo down and tell him about your decisions together, but you informed Nanami earlier in the day that you needed to have a proper conversation with him first. It wasn’t just your choice to be with Nanami that was the matter, and you wanted to get things straightened out with Gojo before he gets married.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“You said I don’t talk enough to you; that I don’t tell you things anymore.”

Gojo slowly nodded.

You breathed out. “Things changed. We can’t deny that. I grew up and you…well, you’ve decided you want to spend your life with Iori and build your own family.” Your lips curled up awkwardly as you tried to keep your emotions at bay. It was new territory having such talks with him when you’re used to your easy-going dynamic with him. “I’m scared, too. I mean, I can’t just bother you anytime anymore cause you’ll have your wife and eventually children to pay attention to and prioritize.”

He was taken aback by what you said, immediately drawing closer. “What are you saying, Y/N? You’re my sister. Nothing will change –”

“Our bond will not change, dude, but you have to admit that what I’m saying is true.” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. You beamed at the fact that your fingers were structured in the same tapered manner as his. Even the shape of your fingernails were the same, just that his hands were bigger than your delicate ones. “What I’m saying is that even if you need to do that, I will be fine.”

“Of course, you will be. You’re my sister, and above that, you are your own person, and you’re stronger than you think. You’ve been handling things on your own for as long as I can remember.” He pouted, trying to act cute with you. “It’s disappointing, to be honest, because you’ve never really given me the chance to play my role in your life because you’re always the mature one.”

You were confused now. “What are you on about? You’re my only brother, but I can’t imagine anyone else holding that position in my life. You’re the best I could have asked for. I’ve always looked up to you. You’re my role model.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. The fuck are you so surprised for?” You snickered. “That aside, if you felt like I’ve been leaving you out, that’s not the intention at all. I always want you to be the first one to know what’s going on with my life…”

He clucked his tongue. “I understand you’re not doing it on purpose, kid. I’m just worried that you didn’t think I’m worth telling anything because, well, I’m not exactly a proper adult, am I?”

“You’re realizing that now that you’re about to get married?” you taunted him, jabbing your thumb towards the direction of the garden. “Should I tell Iori to call this whole thing off?”

He waved you aside. “Hey, don’t say that!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, there’s something I wanted to tell you for a while now.”

“How long is a while, exactly?”

“Years and years.” You flashed him a rueful smile. “I just couldn’t figure out how to tell you because I am not exactly sure how you feel about it although you’ve told me many times you were opposed to it. What I’m saying it that, I know that fact, but it’s the motivation behind it that is beyond my knowledge.”

Gojo’s eyes rounded, realizing what you were saying. “Are you…”

You nodded. “Yes, I am talking about Kento.”

He just blinked and stood up, pacing around in front of you for a while that you had to stop him from doing it. He had such a bad habit of doing that when he is in deep thought, and always in front of you, too. He was making you dizzy.

You seized him by the wrist. “Please say something.”

“I…”

“Why are you opposed to it?”

He stopped pacing and faced you, taking you by the shoulders, his eyes starting to water. “Y/N…”

“Oh no, are you gonna cry?”

He furiously blinked his tears back, the action almost comical if it weren’t for the serious look on his face. “Because you are my little sister. You think it will be easy for me to just hand you over to anyone? My friends aren’t exceptions to that although I trust them with everything that I have. I will always, always worry about you when it comes to that matter because I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of, and I don’t want to have to break either Suguru or Kento’s bones when the time comes.”

“I can manage the latter on my own.” You sighed, finding your resolve strengthening. “But like you said, I’m this old now. I want you to understand that I know what I am doing and I am confident about my decisions. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk about this as if I am asking for your permission. This is what I meant when I said I will be fine. I am not saying you don’t have a say in my life, but I am telling you this time because I want you to know before anyone else does.”

“Suguru doesn’t know?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

“Don’t be petty. I tell him things I can’t tell you just like you tell him things you can’t tell me,” but you nodded anyway. “He doesn’t know yet…I think.”

“So…you and Kento…”

You nodded again. “I’m in love with him, Satoru. And he feels the same way.”

“You are?” His expressions softened, hugging you to him. “You’ve grown. Really grown.”

You returned the gesture, holding onto him tight. “Please don’t ever think that I am leaving you out of my life because I always want to tell you everything.”

Just then, he pulled back, his brows furrowing while his eyes narrowed at you. “So, why isn’t he the one telling me this? Where is that bastard?”

You shrugged. “He wants to be here. Trust me. I just asked him if I could talk to you first because I have issues to resolve with you apart from my relationship with him.”

Gojo exhaled, nodding in understanding. “I understand, Y/N. But are you certain?”

“Yes. I’m scared of hurting him, but I’ll do my best, I guess.”

“Hmm, yeah. Maybe you should tone down on your mischief, too. I don’t want him dying of stress because of you. He’s still precious to me.”

At that, you laughed. “I know.”

He poked you on the cheek. “Alright then. If that’s what makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way. You have my blessing.” His teeth clenched then. “But I’m still going to have to talk to him man to man in case he thinks he’s off the hook.”

“Worry about your wedding first,” you jibed.

“I almost forgot about that.”

“I’m telling Iori.”

He shook his head, feigning panic. “Don’t.”

You both ended up laughing, joking about the guests who were arriving at the garden, poking fun at the relatives you both detested but had no choice but to invite. Just like that, you were back to how it used to be, easily conversing and sharing the same sentiments about things and same penchant for devilry.

Soon, the organizer came to his room, informing him that he needed to go to the garden to prepare. You reached up and fixed his tie and jacket for him, holding him at arm’s length to appreciate your handiwork. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you.” He smiled wide but you saw the nervousness in his eyes. “I’m getting married!”

“You are.”

“I’m more anxious about seeing Kento after what you told me,” he stated dramatically.

You eyed him witheringly. “Shut up and pull yourself together.”

He snickered then. “Kidding. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

The two of you walk to the garden, your arm around his. He stood at the spot just by the last row of seats with you, grinning at you when he saw you looking at Nanami who was already dutifully standing on his spot, speaking to Geto.

“Concentrate on your vows, yeah?” you told your brother.

“I’m off.”

“In case we don’t get to talk before you leave for your honeymoon,” you began, “Just know that I am waiting for the speedy arrival of my nieces and nephews.”

Gojo laughed at that, but nodded anyway and said, “I’ll do a good job, I promise.”

“And Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

“I know, kid. I know.” He turned on his heels and walked towards his place at the front pews while you watched, his steps leading you towards the very man you would want to see standing there when the time comes, his halo of golden locks bright under the setting sun but you knew your future with him would be even more brilliant.

The familiar bars of Johann Pachelbel’s “Canon” began to play in a modified, slowed-down wedding version made especially for Gojo and Utahime’s wedding, played on the harp, piano and violin, cueing the beginning to the entrance of the bridal entourage. It began with the entrance of the flower girls who scattered petals of different flowers on the white carpet that lined the long aisle.

Arches and bouquets of flowers festooned the garden, with gossamer cloth hanging about, interlaced with live wisteria that hung down from the canopy along with fairy lights that progressively turned on as the sky grew darker. White and pink dominated the color palette as Utahime had wished and the same goes for the reception area. It was probably one of the most beautiful wedding setups Nanami has ever seen.

But his eyes weren’t on the ornaments. They were trained on the end of the walled garden, waiting for your ascent on the marble steps where the white carpet extended, the march made more dramatic by the organizers by opting for a meandering aisle instead of the traditional, straight walkway for the bride. And it did achieve the desired effect when you finally emerged from the steps and into view.

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips upon finally seeing you clad in that familiar faded rose gown he had first seen being fitted on you to perfection. He kissed you while you wore that very article of clothing not long ago at the couturier’s shop, and though he thought back then that he has never seen anything more beautiful, he was amazed at the fact that you looked even more gorgeous in it as you glided towards the front.

He loved you so much it hurts, and although you’ve both professed your deep affections for one another and decided to take things head on together, he still felt like he was in the middle of a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. You came closer, and once more, he was back at the semi-outdoor ballroom the first day he came that week, beholding the goddess that was you but seemingly in a different light – brighter this time, overwhelming him to the point that he had to remind himself how to breathe when you finally looked his way and beamed unabashedly, your affections towards him unmasked, real and not under the guise of a game.

“Kento,” he heard Gojo say softly just then, the man’s blue eyes furtively glancing at him.

“Yes?” he answered in hushed tones.

“Hurt my baby sister and I’ll have your severed head hung by the gates of the estate,” he said. “Are we clear about that?”

Geto snickered, concealing it by facing the other way.

“Understood,” Nanami said seriously. “I’m counting on it.”

When you were near enough, you smiled at your brother and Geto before turning your attention to Nanami. You winked at him as you passed by before turning towards your spot opposite them across the aisle, your attention trained towards the point where you came from.

He couldn’t stop looking at you, not even when he felt Gojo hold onto his arm, squeezing tight as Utahime came into view. He didn’t mean to be insulting to his friends. She was beautiful in her wedding gown and he couldn’t help but be moved by the loving look that your brother had on his face as he watched his wife-to-be come closer, guided by her father who will give her away as the sun set. It was poetic. A new beginning after a beautiful end. He probably looked the same whenever his eyes would find you.

The ceremony carried on as everyone sat down, waiting for the couple to exchange their ‘I do’s.’ their vows, rings and the much-awaited kiss. It was making him emotional, thinking of the time when he himself would draw your veil and get to claim you as his for life in front of everyone you both loved and cared about. He couldn’t wait for it, and he may be getting ahead of himself, but he wanted what Gojo and Utahime had with you.

As the minister announced the pair man and wife, everyone applauded and cheered for them. He did so, too, chuckling when Geto whistled loudly, being his cheeky self. Just then, he nudged Nanami on the side, grinning impudently.

“Is it safe to assume you’re next?” he queried in the same manner.

Nanami rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Who knows? Someone might actually steal your heart in the next months and we’ll be seeing you crying as you watch your bride walk towards you by next year.”

Geto snickered at that. “Yeah, right. You looked like you wanted to jump Y/N and replace Satoru and Iori at the altar all this time.”

“Who wants to replace my brother and sister-in-law at the altar?” they heard you say, appearing out of nowhere, your head tilted to the side as you shifted your blue orbs between the two males, but before either of them could answer, you linked your arm with Nanami who smiled down at you blissfully. You returned the gesture, your cheeks blushing prettily under the twinkling lights overhead.

“I see you’ve figured things out.” Geto smirked, patting Nanami on the back just as Shoko came into view, taking the former by the arm, claiming she needed a smoke. She pulled him away, leaving you and Nanami to yourselves, winking as they walked away.

“So, you told him?” you asked, cocking your head towards the wide lawn where the pergolas were, built on three sides of the square and closed by an elevated area for the band, all surrounding a dance floor under a huge, white tent above, also adorned with thousands of lights. It was your design, solely for the wedding reception and a form of gift to the newlyweds.

“Satoru did indirectly when he said he’ll have my head hung at the gates of Gojo Manor if I hurt you.” He shook his head, laughing slightly. “Bastard had the gall to laugh at me, too.”

“He nearly cried when I told him earlier,” you said, regaling him with how your conversation with Gojo went. “He trusts you and is actually afraid I’ll hurt you, too.”

He shook his head. “It’s all part of the process, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.”

“We’ll take it head on.” He held your hand, twining your fingers together.

You nodded, squeezing his larger hand. “We will.”

Just then, your friends emerged from the reception area with Noabara taking the lead, mischief drawn all over her face as she approached you. “I took care of the sitting arrangement,” she said to you then turned to Nanami. “Take care of Y/N. Make her cry and –”

“You’ll have my head?” Nanami supplemented but Nobara shook her head. “I’ll tan your hide. Satoru gets your head apparently.”

At that, Nanami laughed, nodding nonetheless. But to your surprise, she also turned her attention to you, holding you by the shoulders. “Are you still playing?”

“Nope.” You pressed your lips together, shaking your head slowly.

She smiled then. “Good.” She glanced at Nanami. “You’ve got you a good one here.”

“I know.”

They left you alone after that much to his relief, but then you said, “Wanna play a game?”

His eyes rounded and he felt tension again once he heard you say those familiar words, always the preamble to every single mischievous stunt you’ve ever pulled on everyone including him. He paused and looked at you. “I thought no more games?”

You smirked at him. “One more won’t hurt.”

He sighed, giving in. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear to god.”

“So, are you in?”

“When did I ever say no to you?”

You giggled. “Great.”

“What is it about this time?” he asked, indulging you.

“Whoever gets a rise out of Satoru first wins.”

“The stakes?”

You just winked suggestively at him.

You forfeited. For the first time, you lost in your own game. It counted – albeit momentary – because you initiated the game…said the very words that began everything that paved the way to the result you’ve always wanted. But you did not really consider it a loss when for the long run, you’ve gained the very person you’d always gladly lose to at any given time.

After you father offered a toast for the newlyweds, the speeches began, starting with Utahime’s parents then yours, eventually moving on to you, then the bride and groom’s shared close friends. Geto had been rather irreverent as usual, pointing out the things that both Gojo and Utahime supposedly disliked from one another yet brought them closer, making everyone laugh when Shoko came up the stage and began her speech, saying, “Opposites do attract.”

You sat on your table with Nanami, both of you waiting for your turns. He was next in line after Shoko, smirking at you as he stood up and walked towards the platform and began his piece by congratulating Gojo, “for landing a very gracious woman who has the most enduring patience I have ever known in all mankind, given the grief that Ieiri, Suguru and I had to endure before Iori came to his life.”

He continued on with his witty address, pretty much reflecting what Suguru said and entertaining the crowd enough when he started to express his gratitude. “While I know that this changes nothing between us as the best of friends – including your nature that tested one’s forbearance – I would like to say thank you for many things. Thank you because you are, well, you…” He did a dramatic eye roll.

The guests laughed.

“Thank you because you are a real person who offered friendship to quiet, boring old me,” he said, droning on about the things he appreciated about the couple before saying the things he was thankful to Gojo about. “And thank you, because without you, without our friendship, I wouldn’t have met the very person I also want to walk this earth with for the rest of my life.”

You would have fallen off your seat when Megumi playfully nudged you if it weren’t for Yuuji who also held onto your shoulders from behind your seat, shaking you excitedly.

“If it weren’t for one Gojo Satoru, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.”

You felt all eyes turn towards you, including your parents and your brother, heat suffusing your cheeks as you tried hard to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot for everyone to see. Nanami has outdone you this time, and you knew you didn’t have a chance to go against that when he had so publicly expressed how he felt about you.

“I love her with everything that I am,” he continued, “and I will continue to do so even without your threat to behead me.” He raised his glass. “To Iori and Satoru. May you have the happiest, most prosperous married life from today and for always.”

Geto whistled loudly while the guests applauded. You also stood up, clapping your hands slowly as you shook your head. You’ve lost big time, backed by the fact that your brother stood up raising his glass as he said, “I couldn’t have wished for a better future brother-in-law.” He then looked at you, smiling fondly.

Nanami got Gojo to state his approval for everyone to hear. You can’t win against that even if you nearly made the latter cry.

And now, you were just happy to be in Nanami’s arms as he swayed you both to the tune the jazz band was playing, your arms hanging around his shoulders and your fingers playing with the hair at the base of his head while he held you against him by the waist.

“So?” Nanami began. “How’s that for a final game?”

“Not bad,” you acceded, smirking at him. “I’ll admit defeat.”

“Damn right, you are.” He smiled down at you, his dark eyes reflecting the muted, xanthic lights that surrounded you. “I have a couple of things I’d want you to do for me, by the way.”

You nodded slowly, keeping a straight face at the mention of his prize. “Rules are rules.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Then again, you haven’t told me what you wanted when you won a week ago.”

You grinned, burying your face on his chest, listening to the faint sound of his heart. “But I did get what I want.”

“And that is?”

You met his gaze from under your lashes. “You,” you stated in full confidence.

Nanami nodded, suppressing a smile. “If you say so.”

“I wouldn’t wish for anything else.” You pulled him towards you so you could peck him on the mouth. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what for, but as always, anything for you.”

You chuckled at that. Knowing him, he’ll make good on his words for sure, so much so that you didn’t feel the least bit of worry where your future with him was concerned. “You have to learn how to say no to me.”

“I guess, but since I won, have I finally made it to the list of people you don’t mess with?” he asked.

“As promised, yes.”

“No more games?”

“No more games,” you repeated. “Although I have to say it keeps things interesting between us. Don’t you think so?”

You both dissolved in laughter, the merry mingling of your voices coming to a standstill when he bent down and cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over your cheek before staking his claim on your lips while you returned the gesture in kind, locked in each other’s arms, glad you both played the game. And won.

-THE END-

I would like to say thank you to everyone who read this and kept up with my erratic updating. It's been a good 6 weeks. Thanks!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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simply-zhouye · 3 years ago

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Zhou Ye: The Wonderful Ideas of Lotte Girls // Esquire Fine photoshoot & interview ~ a really wonderful interview with Yezi!

Read rough translation of interview below: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/lY3oBM51ytlua7S8ZRdmlw

The lively character is like jumping candy, and the crisp voice is like summer honeydew. It can be a cute angel or a rebellious girl. Who wouldn't like a beautiful and free girl? We met Zhou Ye at a claw machine shop, and she caught the one she wanted five times!

Zhou Ye didn't laugh when shooting the magazine blockbuster, but she liked to laugh privately.

In the eyes of the people around, she is a simple and lively little girl, born optimistic, loves to joke, and loves to share all the fun and delicious. After catching up with the good-looking drama, she will also be ambitious to everyone, even if she encounters any troubles, she It will be resolved soon. She denied the title of "Girl's Heart"-when she was not working, she liked to lie at home and chase dramas, and science fiction and fantasy were her dishes. She enthusiastically gave an example. There is an American drama called "Stranger Things". It is about a little boy who disappeared in a small town in the United States. Everyone went to find him and found that there was an entrance to another world, exactly the same as this world. , But there is no one in that world. Such a story attracts her even more.

A few days ago, she took a four-day holiday, "very satisfied!" During the holiday, she made appointments with a few good friends for dinner, went to the playground, and watched dramas. If the vacation is longer, she would prefer to go home and stay with her family. Playing with mom and dad, playing with grandpa and grandmother, the family finds a beautiful place to go camping, and if you don’t go out, you can play mahjong with the whole family. She can stay away from looking at her mobile phone for a day.

Asked this girl who is not so girly what she wants, she said, "Now I want to accomplish everything in the moment, and every day will be better than the day before!"

Therefore, Zhou Ye, who hopes to be more progressive, raised his face and chatted with us about serious matters.

Before, people often said to me, "I like your performance of "Youth", but now everyone talks more about "Shanhe Ling". Let’s start the conversation with "The Order of Mountains and Rivers".

Gu Xiang in the play is a girl who is cold on the outside and warm on the inside. She helped Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and the singing sisters, but it didn't mean that she trusted them. She just felt that these people were very pitiful. Because Gu Xiang was picked up by her master when she was a child, she felt sorry for them and wanted to protect them.

She is defensive to everyone, and she will not trust anyone easily. In terms of character, Gu Xiang and I are a bit like. Both are more lively. What we don't quite resemble is our life experience and living environment.

When I first finished reading the script of "The Order of Mountains and Rivers", I loved Gu Xiang from the bottom of my heart. Gu Xiang grew up in Guigu where she was killed and beaten everywhere. Although she was lucky enough to meet Wen Kexing, the master who protected her, the rivers and lakes were sinister and Gu Xiang never really relaxed. Therefore, she can only protect herself by fierce methods. She looks acrimonious, slurs and curses, and she has to fight or kill at every turn. She looks very fierce and cruel, but her heart is really innocent and special. Kindness. When encountering people like Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and the singing sister Hua, Gu Xiang will rescue them and help them beat the gangsters.

Many audience friends felt that the ending of Gu Xiang and Cao Weining was too miserable when they watched "The Order of Mountains and Rivers". Gu Xiang originally didn't know what the outside world was like. After she came to the world, she met Big Brother Cao, and the two people who loved each other were about to be happy. Unexpectedly, on the day of the wedding, Gu Xiang lost her lover so much that she would fight herself Life. I am also uncomfortable with this ending. It is not easy for them to get to this day. Why can't they live well? If I were to write an ending, it would definitely be two people living together happily forever.

For me, playing Gu Xiang should be more difficult than playing. This is my first time shooting a costume drama, and also my first time shooting a martial arts drama. "Shanhe Ling" really has a lot of martial arts, because it tells the story of the rivers and lakes, so I joined the group some time before I started, and learned some moves from the martial arts masters.

In retrospect, the scene of the wedding was the most memorable. I had been shooting for three days in a row. I had been beating, killing, and hanging off Wia, and I would beat off some hair accessories from my hair. I didn't dare to hang on Wia at first, and the costume was so thick that I could easily trip on my feet. But I can’t take care of this when I shoot. This is Gu Xiang’s most emotional scene. I feel the same for Gu Xiang and can’t help crying. Until the end of my cry, I can’t tell whether my face is tears or saliva. , I hope that through this scene, everyone can feel Gu Xiang’s pain.

For me at this stage, whether it is a role that is more similar to myself or a completely different role, I am willing to give it a try. If the character of a character is very pleasing, I will have a sense of substitution when I read the script, I will like it, and I will really want to play it.

In fact, my interest in acting began after I was in college. When I was a child, I learned piano, and I was not very sensible at that time. I thought it would be fine to play the piano every day after growing up and collect tickets. After being admitted to the Beijing Film Academy, we often watch movies. When the directors see their favorite movies, they will think "I can make such a great movie in the future". I am in the acting department, so I hope I can do it in the future. Acting in a particularly powerful movie may be the influence of the school atmosphere. I still remember that I watched some old movies when I was in school. I really liked "Scent of a Woman" and Marlon Brando. He played "The Godfather" very well.

In the film school, we had a lot of opportunities to meet the director and the crew. We tried again and again, and slowly met scenes that were willing to use our young actors, and started the road to filming. I will definitely read the script several times before filming. In addition to my own role, I have to read the whole story, write a short biography of the character, and talk to everyone at the script reading meeting. For example, when shooting "Ah Cradle", I often consulted sister Haiqing and the director. In the filming of "Youth in Youth", I would also ask the director: The girl I played has such a good family, why does she bully her classmates? The director told me that because her parents had very strict education for her, she was required to be particularly good since she was a child. She was under tremendous pressure and kept suppressing it, so she vented the pressure by bullying her classmates.

When taking the play, I don't worry about people comparing my previous works or achievements, as long as my requirements for myself will not change. My request is to do my best to shape each role. Every time I finish filming a film, I will have a certain evaluation of myself, and I will also look at other people's evaluations of me, as well as the opinions given to me by my predecessors, to integrate these. Every time, I hope I can do better next time.

Up to now, I have been shooting for a few years, and I feel that I am not a talented actor, and I have to be a model worker. However, the sisters who brought me to the management team said that my biggest change and improvement is that I am more independent than before. When I first started filming, I would hide in the room and cry by myself every time I joined the group, especially wanting to go home.

Now I am more comfortable with the life of the crew than before. When I first joined the group, I still felt a little homesick. I hope to finish the filming soon, and become familiar with everyone. After work, I will play with the actors in the same group. When I was resting, I was playing with werewolf killing or something, so happy, I didn't want to kill it. I didn't want to be successful when I was filming "Shanhe Ling", and the same was true when filming "Ah Cradle". As actors, it seems that we can go to different places every time we film. In fact, there is not much time to spend in the local area, but we can eat a lot of local delicacies.

As I said just now, I want to do everything right now, and the current week is the best week.

Do you often dream? Please share a dream that is more imaginative.

Zhou Ye:

I sometimes dream. Once, I dreamed that I received an acceptance letter from an owl, took the Hogwarts Express train to the magic school to learn magical magic, visited Hogsmeade Village, and met so many new friends. .

What is your dream day like? How to spend it?

Zhou Ye:

At this stage, my dream day is to sleep in late, and after waking up, I will lie in bed and watch a drama or hang out with my friends or watch a drama.

How to arrange the dream holiday? Stay at home or go out to play?

Zhou Ye:

Of course, it is best to have two days, so you can stay at home one day and go out to play one day!

What about the journey of your dreams? With whom, where to go, and how to play?

Zhou Ye:

With your family, you can go to the beach or play paragliding.

What is your dream job announcement?

Zhou Ye:

Go to Universal Studios to shoot hahahaha, I really want to go!

What kind of "dream skills" do you want to have?

Zhou Ye:

Teleport!

Which era is the dream era? why?

Zhou Ye:

Now, now is the best time. Grasp the moment.

#zhou ye #hqs:zhouye #photoshoot #esquire fine #magazine photoshoot #gu xiang #word of honor #shan he ling cast #hogwarts

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stopeatingwhales · 4 years ago

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about a girl (pt.2) x kurt cobain

hi guys :) so sorry for my inactivity, but i’m here finally lmaoo, this is a part two to my kurt fic that i wrote about a month ago, due to school its been much harder for me to keep up writing as usual, but i will absolutely try my best to finish your guys’ requests soon! anyways, hope you enjoy this <3 Pairing: pre-bleach era kurt x reader

Warnings: nothing :)

Word count: 2.167

Requested by anon (the second part was my idea, but i felt like i should still credit the anon for giving me the idea for this x)

༉‧₊˚✧

The wind exhales short, breezy waves as you lay there, engulfed in your dreams. From the night succeeding to your outstanding performance, you were requited to a favourable hibernation which by admiring you, was needed for not only the sum of a few hours. Your solemn features are painted still, the only movement stimulating from your body is heavy breaths accompanied by a light snore from time to time. I question whether it's righteous of me to allow my eyes to adorn themselves in your serene features, yet I simply cannot stop myself. I find it surreal to witness you in such fragility; for all the pain and sorrow you’ve had to experience in your life, it’s almost like you shouldn’t be sleeping in such a tranquillic state. I wonder if you prefer sleeping than being awake, I wonder if you think it’s a chore to get out of bed. Does the world haunt you? Every click, flash, snap of a camera, does it devastate you? The image you portray to the world is magnificent, yet flawed. It’s almost as if you’re hiding something, yet you don’t care what others think of you, so you do whatever you please. My heart skips a beat every time you shift slightly, cradling your body in the duvet. I advert my stare to your arms, sculpted perfectly in God’s chamber, the lankiness of your bones withering an appearance of discrepancy. You’re not like the rest of them. Your steady breaths softly ease in and out of your flawless torso, your hair so impeccable it looks untouched even when you’re shifting around in your slumber - the hair you willingly dyed and strained with a flavoured drink mix. As I admire you, sleeping beauty, it reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life - regardless of where we stand. When you’re awake, you’re the only thing keeping me sane during the day; spending even just a day without you would feel as if I had lost my legs, lost what’s kept me steady for all these draining years. In all my time of knowing and understanding you, have you never not known what to say, for you have such a way with words, it's unfathomable. You carry a sort of intelligence that no one can seem to obtain; you speak words out of a bible and it’s ironic I say that, Mr ‘God is gay’, but it’s true. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. You’re like a hard candy, sweet and delicate, although the texture is very hard making it a burden to get through to you. I want to taste you on my tongue every morning, if you would like me to be honest. I crave for things as little as your scent even before I’ve risen from the cushion. Your grace must be envied by the heavens; there is and will never be anyone as alluring as you, not that I’m surprised.

As my eyes continue to wander on him, a sudden stretch of his arms and a small groan echoing out of his vocal chords results in my body almost instantaneously sitting up. I watch him as he blinks his eyes a few times, his vision still not clear enough. “Good morning,” he whispers, his arms thrown to the skies; he’s like a baby, reaching out for their mother in the early hours of daylight, moaning and whining for affection, warming my heart with soreful ease. Quickly taking note of the small clock situated beside him that I was aware of for the many hours I had been trapped in thought, it read a bright and early 11am. My stare continues to linger onto him as I watch him shifting around, the heart situated in my upper chest now beating as fast as drum solos in heavy metal songs. A short silence stood in between both presences; I assume that he hadn’t taken note of my pondering state adjacent to him, though was that idea contradicted by his light greeting. “Did you sleep well?” he chirps, now using both palms to rub his what-seemed-like itchy eyes.

Now what is humorous from this scenario is that he asks this as if it means nothing; a simple conversation starter it may be, though, to me it means so much more hearing those light words roll off his tongue, compared to if someone else had said it, even if it was in the exact same moment living right now. A whiff of bad breath hits my face as I laugh lightly, shaking my head in a sort of admiration towards the man lying down ahead of me. He again blinks a few times, now in attempt to adjust the bright scenery to his view. For a couple seconds the room is frozen, Kurt’s alteration in position to sitting up becoming the only sound ringing through both our ears. As I find my gaze glued onto him once again, I subconsciously repeat the question he asked me, this time directed for him. However, from what I’ve seen, I’m certain he slept wonderfully.

A tired chuckle escaped his mouth. “I asked you first,” he mutters, the morning rasp still prominent in his vocal chords. This makes me smile. The raw, genuinity forwards the idea of realism that this moment was actually happening, coming like a pinch snapping someone out of their daydream, though my thoughts will never be known to understand how I was able to spend time with such a man. “I slept well, though.” he adds, a warm smile playing on his lips.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I answered, my face now being cradled by my palms.

I now feel the stare of Kurt burn onto my face. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, a hint of annoyance laced in his words. “We could’ve stayed up together,”

A small chuckle breezes out of my nose. How considerate, how caring must you be to, even when you have performed such an exasperating gig, stay awake with me because of one night of my mind’s continuous ambles? For all I know, Kurt wouldn’t sleep for days if it meant I would be in absolute glee. It’s those sorts of traits in those who are lost which draw you towards them becoming the significant other to stay with for life. It’s that sense of attachment, connection you hold with someone, so strong that you would give up the roof over your head if it meant a smile to be drawn on their face. ”You looked so peaceful in your sleep,” I replied, staring directly into his loveable eyes, the shade of blue brightening as the sunlight melted onto his face. His hair was now a little more messier compared to how it was less than ten minutes ago, and the urge of me running my fingers through his golden locks only seemed to grow even more as time passed on. For a moment I decided to hold back my words, inhaling sharply to gain composure to my fatigued state. “I didn’t want to disturb you,”

Kurt sighed - knowing that he needed sleep more than anything, though a hint of sadness dwindled in his stomach, his mind conflicted from the idea of me drowning in worry as I tended to do when I couldn’t sleep. Reaching his arm towards the table sat beside him, his fingers got lost in between the opened packet of cigarettes that slept reverently on the white wood, grabbing a random one at choice before placing it in a loose grip between his lips. With the known information that you need a torch to light a cigarette, I threw the one I had on his lap, a small laugh escaping my lips for no apparent reason. Actually no, there was a reason. “Who the fuck smokes first thing in the morning?”

Before he torched the lighter, he stopped, his piercing blue eyes locking in contact with mine. “Me, I do,”

Another laugh tempted to flee itself from my throat, yet I held it back. If you would’ve said that to me the first night I met you, in that small, cramped room, littered with amps that Krist had dragged me into going in to listen to your material, I would’ve scoffed at your blown attitude towards such a random question. Watching you now as you’re admiring the cancer stick with pure attachment, my mind begins to wander over such a topic. I look at you and see a troubled, young kid who just wants love and affection because he seemingly never got enough from the people who designed his childhood; for you haven’t grown up since then. Perhaps in size and features, yes (and definitely the fact that children do not smoke), but hidden inside you is the same boy that was hidden away all those years ago - following onto your parents’ divorce. You say you’ve never been happy since then, you’ve never been able to think optimistically, and maybe you haven’t. Maybe the smile you give to me isn’t genuine; with continuous assurance I’ll consider it to be. Maybe I’ll never heal those bruises that were once your only source of living, and that’s okay, if you’re able to cope with the imprints. If you’re the Kurt Cobain that prefers smoking than having a normal breakfast, so be it; I’d give up my heart for you, and if anything, you’ve already stolen it. Words merely brush the surface of my adoration for you, and sometimes I believe that I’m just lying to myself, that nothing I’m saying in my head is true. Yet, as every minute, every second passes throughout the day, even in silent, contented situations with ceilings bright as yellow from the smoke like these, everything I say to myself simply strengthens in morality. My sweet, you deserve more than one could wish for. You deserve things that this world cannot give you, yet all you believe is that you are worthless. If only you saw yourself in my eyes, maybe then you’d realise, realise the impact you’ve sincerely doused onto me and my mind, you’ve got the moves to empower a generation and perhaps hundreds more - even if you don’t see that yet.

“Give me one,” He hands me one, the strong gusts of cloud escaping his mouth creating a want for the rough substance to coat my throat in brutal ways; even if it’s slowly murdering me. It was a murderous addiction, nicotine, yet it kills us all, our addictions; and we are too blinded by the goodness it seemingly overshadows what we force to neglect in our minds - the bad in it all. We become so unbelievably enthralled by the pain we choose to accept it; we believe it is favourable, not disastrous and catastrophic. Drugs are frowned upon dearly, as they should be, but once you’re stuck, it takes more than simple courage to escape out of the deadly grip it chokes you in. Placing the cigarette in between my lips, identical to how he had just done, I reached my arm out to obtain the lighter that was in my clutch merely seconds ago, swiftly lighting it with one hand. As I breathed out the first tar-filled cloud from my cigar, I fixed my gaze onto him once again, sucking in my top lip as I allowed the droplets of ash fall onto my shirt. “I know I always say this,” I began as I studied his features, trying to identify any solemn, unpleasant emotions, noticing that there was none at all for the time being. “You’re going to make it big one day, I’m now for certain you’re going to take over the world,”

His eyes now locked into mine, a short chuckle leaving his throat as he blew out an even bigger gust of smoke. “I don’t want that,”

Smiling, I took hold of my cigarette and inhaled deeply, holding it in my mouth until my body was unable to carry on without oxygen for longer - not that the air in the room was even oxygen; it was more corrosive chemicals than anything else, yet we’ve become so dependant on a small roll of tobacco to guide us to a path of slow death, its unnoticable. I watched as Kurt’s eyes drifted on to admire the elusive sunlight gleaming through the window, the whiffs of grey contrasting the happiness that was attempting to journey itself into the silent room. No matter how many times I may tell, his belief that he will never be as big as acts like the Sex Pistols will empower over anything I endevour on to phrase. It was inevitable though, whether he dreamt of it or not, that they will be big, bigger than anything they’ve ever seen. The path bridging onto it may cause destruction, heartbreak, and even more addiction, but the future is never in our hands - only until it is close enough for the present to capture it. Time is simply a mantelpiece, the light eventually burns out when there’s not enough coal to keep it going. You continue to refill it as the days go by until you simply cannot any longer, which is what all youths fear and avoid. Surprisingly enough, Kurt wasn’t one of the many crowds in devastating apprehension; he wanted to burn out more than anything else, for there were only small things keeping him going, or perhaps he was waiting for a longer, more agonizing death, hence the many packets of cigarettes vanished in a day.

There was nothing left to say in the room; there was no need for a response - it was only going to result in the same bicker as it resulted in many a time. The room, now physically undergoing a change in colour from the smoke, held a significant ambience, one so serene it left you more relaxed than the aftermath of a crazy high in drug use, though sometimes the relaxation is more pain than anything else. Even when my mind was so consumed in ideation earlier in the morning, my thoughts were louder than ever in this given moment. My mind was mulled over the concept of Kurt and stardom. He would never like it, nor does he even want it. It’s humorous to an extent; how much authenticity can one acclaim, to not even look up to the sugar-coated concept called ‘fame’? You’re not like the others. You don’t want fame, you want to create music. And in all honesty, I wish I lie through my teeth whenever I mumble those encouraging words of how you’re going to make it big; I can’t stand the idea of losing you, but like I said, it's inevitable, one day simple moments like these will just be memories to look back on when you’re old and laughing about your previous attachment to drugs. Maybe you won’t look back on times like these however, maybe you’ll remember the more vivid, buzzing moments like your first gig as Nirvana, and maybe I won’t remember this either, maybe these moments aren’t to be remembered, to be lived in instead. If only you knew how much I loved you, would you be surprised that I haven’t ruined my life because of it. You mean more to me than the stars mean to the night sky, more than a memory means to a person’s mind. It hurts my heart knowing I can’t heal you, though I dream that one day, you’ll wake up, just like you did today, turn to me and say, ‘I’m happy,’ because that’s all I ever dream of you to be.

#kurt cobain x reader #nirvana #dave grohl #krist novoselic #kurt cobain #band imagines #my writing #smut #fluff #angst #grunge #90s #music #imagines

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dragonsareourfuture · 4 years ago

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Matsuda/GN!Reader — Promise

Here’s a longer oneshot for a man who is often forgotten. Lovely Matsuda, you have a huge place in my heart.

This wasn’t an afternoon like any other.

No, shut up! It’s the same as any other day.

Something big was about to go down.

It’s not big, it’s normal! Normal sized, normal day!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, slamming against your rib cage so hard you swore it made your body sway a tad bit forward.

Everything is going to go fine, no disasters.

You stood in front of your mirror, combing out your hair. The bathroom was dead silent save for your short, uneasy breaths. You tried your best to draw them out to how you normally breathed, but you began to try so hard to breathe normally that you forgot how you normally breathed altogether.

Is this pace too slow? Am I not getting enough air? Is that why the room’s spinning or am I just panicking for no reason?

You weren’t panicking. You swear you weren’t. Maybe you were just breathing so fast and your heart was racing so much because you were dying! Yeah, that could be it! You almost preferred that possibility to what you were in store for later that evening — something set to occur around 6:00 pm sharp. Dinner. Doesn’t sound so bad right?

Wrong. You almost laughed at yourself bitterly for thinking so absurdly — doesn’t sound so bad? Maybe when you don’t have all the details. So, let’s rephrase that, shall we?

Dinner. With your boyfriend’s parents.

Ah, speak of the devil. You turned around at the sound of a light knock at the bathroom doorframe. Touta Matsuda, the adorable little puppy dog of a human, stood with his fist still curled and his knuckles against the doorframe. He asked you if you were nearly ready to head out, his dark eyebrows upturned with light creases denting his forehead.

You jolted. With a lightening fast grab at your phone you tore it from its spot on the counter and looked at the time — how was it already 5:40!? Hadn’t you started brushing your hair around 4:00? You didn’t even want to begin to think about the fact that you’d been standing at the mirror for forty whole minutes telling yourself you weren’t panicking. And the worst part — that reverse psychology didn’t even leave a mark! Your chest still felt tight and nothing felt right. Oh no... you’re thinking in rhyme. You had to do something quick, before you started to speak in riddles like some kind of bridge troll.

“Hey, Teddy Bear?”

“What’s up? You don’t look too good...”

Even staring at yourself in the mirror for nearly an hour didn’t allow you to notice until Matsuda pointed it out. When you looked back at your reflection, you saw the truth in his statement. You looked very put together overall — clothes neat and without a single crease marring the fabric — but your face was paler than it had ever been before. Your eyes had sunken from lack of sleep, as you were tossing and turning for hours the previous night just thinking about your arrangement for that evening. You just looked scared.

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” you began, stepping closer to your boyfriend and weaving your arms around his waist. The soft fabric of his dress shirt calmed you enough to get the words out without choking on them. “I’m really, really nervous about tonight. They’re gonna hate me for this—“

“Hey, don’t say that! It’s no one’s fault that we‘ve both been too busy to formally meet my folks since we started dating. I mean, I am a cop after all, and this case hadn’t exactly been easy on me or anyone on my team.” Matsuda reasoned. It was always hard to argue with him when he had this whole “optimist” thing going on. He was just too cute and cheerful to claim anything he said was a lie.

You sighed, trying to fight back with more doubts, “But it’s been forever. They’re gonna think I’m avoiding them or something!”

“Nonsense! If anything they’ll be grateful for you taking care of me every night when I get home from work. I still don’t know how you do it. You’re too patient with me, babe! Not that I’m telling you to stop, of course! It’s— well, you know what I mean!”

Dammit, Matsu’s cuteness struck you down once more and, against your will, you were forced to give into his positivity. You let out a laugh, tightening your grip around his waist and resting your chin on his broad shoulder. “Yeah, I guess so.”

But he was forgetting one little thing. You had absolutely no idea what kind of people Matsuda’s parents were, so how they would react to something like this was beyond your comprehension. Though, you didn’t think terrible people could have produced someone so pure hearted and precious. Still, you had no idea how formal they were, if they cared whether you told them yet or not. If they were opposed to how you were going about this or if they would support you. And Matsuda, being the kind person he was, wanted to tell them the important news in person, so there was no avoiding this any longer.

“Listen, I...when we talked about marriage I didn’t agree to it despite my parents.” Matsuda hummed, taking hold of your lower back to pull you closer to him as a gesture of comfort. “They know you exist, at least! They know we’ve been dating for a while and they know you make me happy. So what would be the issue?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. Goddammit, he’s right.

You just had to make Teddy Bea— Uh, Matsuda’s parents like you! Then they’d support your relationship, and in turn your decision to get married. End of story. Well, you’d have to see them again, like at the wedding, but you’d cross that bridge once you got to it!

Yeah, okay. Maybe, with the comfort of your fiancé beside you (was is okay to call him that? You haven’t even bought an engagement ring yet...), just maybe, you could do this.

Probably.

This shit’s gonna be easy, you told yourself. And, you know the funny thing? You actually started to believe it.

It was like all of the comforting words Matsuda blessed your ears with earlier actually had some effect and, now that you stood at his parent’s doorstep, the tight feeling in your chest had eased up. Your head stopped pounding with your own heartbeat drumming in your ears. You felt comfortable, even when Matsuda knocked on the door before taking ahold of your hand.

Soon enough, an older woman answered to the knocks. Her face, marred with smile lines, brightened at the sight of you two. She was on the shorter side, but by no means did she appear weak. Her hands held a strong grip on the door as she held it open, and such energy gave off a giddy and caring aura about her. She stepped aside and held a hand out, gesturing for you to come in with a cheerful call of “Hello there! Oh, come in, come in. Honey, they’re here!”

You allowed Matsuda to take the lead, guiding you inside behind him, connected by your hands still. With only a few steps, the slight bite of the chilly fall air outside had vanished in an instant only to be replaced by a warm and fuzzy atmosphere. It had the air of a home that was prepared for guests, which served to make your heart flutter at the idea that you were important enough to make people want to prepare their home for you.

A staircase occupied the farthest wall to the right, and beyond that led to a dining room. While candles dotted the table, plates were set up neatly in front of every chair for four people. The burning candles gave off the scent of a pine forest, filling your nostrils and effectively making you even more calm. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Another set of footsteps was soon given a face — a tall, lanky man with the same messily styled and dark hair as your beloved boyfriend — presumably Matsuda’s father. This presumption was made into fact as the man glommed into Matsuda, patting his back and barely giving your boyfriend any air in his lungs to speak properly.

“Hey, mom! Hey, dad! I really missed you guys. Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing, too!”

You couldn’t say he was wrong. You couldn’t really place it with the pine scented candles mixing with the scent, but whatever it was, it was making your mouth water.

“O-oh, um, this is (Name). They’re that person I was talking to you guys about on the phone the other day,” The now suddenly bashful Matsuda introduced on your behalf.

“Hi there, it’s really nice to meet you both!” You greeted, shameful that you didn’t think to say something sooner.

“Oh, well aren’t you just the sweetest thing? Come this way, dear, don’t just stand around!”

“O-oh, alright—“

“So!” The boisterous man by Matsuda’s side called. He clapped his son on the shoulder, looking from him to you with a teasing quirk in his brow. “You’ve finally decided to come visit now, have you?”

“Oh, don’t give them a hard time!” Matsuda’s mother interjected, holding up a nearby dish towel with a threatening glower, no real malice behind it. Matsuda’s father held up his hands in mock surrender.

You smiled, forcing the corners of your lips upwards although you couldn’t force it to meet your eyes. you felt absolutely terrible. These people opened up their home to you, cooked for you, let you go out with their son, and yet you couldn’t tell them that you wanted to marry their son, and he wanted the same. Occasionally you shared a glance with Matsuda, who only stared back with eyes that said “not yet”. And you hated the fact that you felt overwhelming relief each time you received that look from him. The fact was — you didn’t want to tell them. If you did there would be no going back, no do-overs. But at the same time you wanted to get it off your chest more than anything in the world. You wanted their son’s hand in marriage. That’s not usually anything to sneeze at.

And yet, all you were doing was lying to their faces. Well, was it lying if all you were doing was keeping something from them? Was it just as wrong? Of fucking course it was. There’s no way out of this one, you’re a horrible person and that’s that. Shit.

Even as you all sat at your designated seats around the dinner table, not a peep left your mouth. As Matsuda’s mother began to dish out servings of her incredible-smelling cooking with the help of her husband, you only uttered words of thanks. You really couldn’t thank them enough, considering the bomb you were about to drop onto their lives.

You all ate peacefully with the light conversation making it’s way around the table. Matsuda and his parents were quite possibly the easiest people to talk to that you ever did meet. No joke had to be held back for fear of being judged, and a few of your little comments caused Matsuda’s father to choke on his food from laughter. You and Matsu’s mom took to ganging up on the men for their apparent shared habit of snoring like a monster at night, the both of them getting defensive with claims that they had no way to control that kind of thing. You and Matsu even shared a few stories from your albeit limited amount of time alone together, going to the park or visiting a museum. It was only when a lull in conversation caused a bout of silence to overtake the room did you look to Matsuda for some assistance in keeping up conversation, only to find him looking at you with determined eyes.

Oh. So it was time, was it? Alright, you could do this.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, clasping your partner’s hand under the table.

“Mom, dad? We uh...Well, we have something to tell you,” Matsu admitted, his voice starting out as nothing more than a whisper and gradually increasing in volume. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand.

“Oh? Good news or bad news?” His mother inquired, eyebrows creasing slightly with a tinge of worry which the playful tone in her voice failed to mask.

“I hope you think it’s good news! Uh, so, (Name) and I...well, it’s good to see that you guys seem to be getting along well! Can I just say that before I start? Yeah...so. Okay, um—“

“Son, you know you can tell us anything. Just say it, we won’t be angry with you.” Something in the older man’s tone told you he already somewhat caught on to the situation. He just wanted to hear it from his son first, which was understandable.

“We’re going to get married,” Matsuda blurted. The slight jitters you felt in his hand eased up immensely after he said it. His shoulders relaxed and his lips stretched with a smile. “We aren’t exactly sure when or where, we don’t even have the rings yet, but we’ve talked it through and...well, we’re doing it.”

Your gaze, which was fixed on your Teddy Bear throughout his entire explanation, absolutely adoring the loving glint in his eyes as he talked about your future together, shifted back to his parents. What you were met with did not exactly please you.

“...oh. Well, dear, I...”

“It’s not that we aren’t happy for you two, don’t get us wrong...”

It took you a while to completely comprehend what you were hearing.

“What...? You don’t want us to get married?” Matsuda chimed in before you could say anything, not that you were even sure that you could.

“We didn’t say that!” The older woman defended, inching up to sit on the edge of her seat. Ah, yes. Battle mode. “Far from it, actually. All we want is for you to be sure that you’re ready.”

Matsuda’s dad nodded, continuing with his wife’s sentiment, “You said yourself that you’ve been too busy to come see us, so how much of that time have you really had with each other?”

You couldn’t even argue against them. It was true, you and Matsuda haven’t really been able to spend a ton of time together lately. Perhaps marriage was what you both seemed to agree would act as a patch — something you thought would fix your issues as soon as you could call Matsuda your husband. But how much better off would you be after that?

“I...mom, dad...” Matsuda’s words faded, disintegrating into nothingness as his hope seemed to do along with it. He hung his head as his grip on your hand loosened but, before it could completely slip from you, you clasped it tightly.

“Thank you so much for your advice,” you said, marveling that you managed to keep your voice from wavering. “We’ll think it over.”

The burn of Matsuda’s eyes could practically be felt boring into you. You knew he was upset, you knew he was confused. But the very last thing you wanted to do was end the night on a bad note. You could try your best to save what was left of your first impression dinner and talk about this later. When you were alone.

“...yes, o-of course. Ah, would anyone like a second helping?”

About an hour of stiff conversation and shifting glances later, you and Matsuda decided that perhaps it was time to leave.

He hugged his parents goodbye with noticeably less enthusiasm than he had when he’d first greeted them, and you took to simply waving and thanking them for the meal.

Once you were outside, a shiver ran down your spine. The temperature had dropped considerably, now with the moon in place of the sun overhead and clouds of fog taking to the air every time you exhaled.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” you heard from beside you. Your head swiveled to meet the eyes of your boyfriend only to find that his were directed towards the ground. “That didn’t go as I thought it would.”

Your mouth opened to answer, only to close again. It was easier to grab his hand, which was swinging limply at his side, at thread your fingers through his. So, that’s what you did.

Matsuda flinched, eyes shooting toward the point at which your hands were connected, staring at it with wide eyes. Once he was over his shock, he gave you a grin — a smile that turned his eyes into crescents and warmed his cheeks with a soft blush. That smile was what always told you that everything would be okay.

You stopped walking so suddenly that Matsuda nearly tripped trying to stop in time.

“What’s wrong? (N-name!?)”

Matsuda covered his mouth as he stared down at you, now kneeling on one knee in front of him. You never let go of his hand, but kept it clasped in yours. Your lips met his knuckles, thumb brushing over the spot that you kissed afterwards.

This was not the end of the world. So you shouldn’t get married, so what? It’s not like that’s your main goal anyway. Marriage — your method of escape from actually facing your problems — would have to wait. Big deal. That just left more time to spend with your adorable Teddy Bear without the stress of a wedding hanging over your heads. Any breaks you two had in work could be used to get to know each other better, relearn those things about each other that might have slipped from your memories due to time apart.

“Touta, I love you. I love you too much to let this stupid disagreement do any damage to our relationship. I want us to become stronger because of this. We don’t need a legal binding to tell us that we belong together. So, this isn’t a proposal, but a promise — Whether we’re married or not, I will do my best to make you the happiest man alive and let you know each and every day how much I care for you. And, if we still want to, later on when we know we’re in a stable place, we can get married.”

A splash of water hit the ground in front of you. You blinked, expecting more to come in the form of a rain shower until you realized that water was the tears still rolling down Matsuda’s rosy cheeks. “Yeah, that—“ he sniffed, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket, “—that sounds good.”

“Just good?” You joked.

“A-amazing? I can’t really find the words right now...but I do want everything you just said. I’m just a little surprised that, what with how tonight was going with me consoling you, you’d end up doing the same for me by the end!” The ravenette scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes, “I d-don’t really feel like the one wearing the pants in this relationship right now!”

“Who said you were in the first place?” You muttered, rising to your feet and heading off toward your car.

“Wh-wh-what!? Hey, get back here!”

#death note #death note one shot #longer oneshot #death note matsuda #matsuda death note #touta matsuda #touta matsuda x reader #death note Matsuda x reader #x reader #reader insert #x reader oneshot #reader insert oneshot #death note x reader #death note reader insert

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hyuniebaby · 4 years ago

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Fractions (1)

GIF originally posted by chanshine

Pairings: Minseok x Y/N

AU: Soulmate AU

Inspired by this tweet:

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for over a month now but I still haven’t finished writing it yet so I decided to cut it in half instead of posting it in one go. 😅 I didn’t even proofread it because it made me anxious for whatever reason. Now please excuse me while I hide after I post this. 🙈 I hope you enjoy this...

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

When you were younger, you’ve always dreamed of being married to your soulmate. Your parents were soulmates and having seen how they deeply loved each other growing up, it made you want to have the same thing they did.

You recall coming home from school one time with a skip on your steps. When your parents asked you how your day went, you gave them a toothy smile and exclaimed, “I learned about fractions today! My teacher said that if you divide something into equal parts, each part is a fraction of the whole.”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. At that moment, as she heard you explain what you learned, she knew you were going to grow up to be a wise lady.

“Mom, Dad, do you know fractions?” You ask cheekily, back then you thought they didn’t know it because you’ve never heard them mention the word.

“Of course, darling,” your father scrunches his nose at you, a hint of smile in his lips.

“Can you give me an example, Daddy?”

He pauses, thinking deeply. He turns his head away from you and looks at your mother’s eyes, “Your mom and I, we’re two halves of one soul.”

You watched as they looked at each other with sparkling eyes and warm smiles.

“Why are you smiling? Did I miss something? Was it a joke? I don’t understand,” you whine. “I don’t think you’re talking about fractions, Daddy.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older, darling.”

And he was right. When you grew up, you understood what he meant, theoretically, at least. He was talking about soulmates.

You found out about it from your best friend Jess. You were still young back then, maybe around twelve years old. Her parents told her that they were soulmates when she saw that her mother’s skin on her arm was glowing. Her mother preferred wearing t-shirts and long sleeved blouses rather than sleeveless clothes which was why Jess hadn’t noticed it before. Her parents explained that when you meet your soulmate a part of your skin lights up in daylight and glows even brighter in the dark.

When you got home that day, you remember immediately walking up to your parents to ask them if they were soulmates. They were startled by your question at first, but gave you a gentle smile. “Yes we are, darling,” your mother confirms.

That night you learned that the patch of skin that shines when you meet your soulmate is called the soulmate mark. But most people initially called it an “invisible tattoo” because it was the easiest way to describe it. It was like a tattoo in a sense, because it was a permanent kind of body art, except that you were born with it instead of having a tattoo artist injecting ink on your skin.

Each soulmate has distinct patterns on their skin and they have it at the exactly the same location. Your parents’ tattoo was like a very intricate design of leaves located just a few inches above their hips. When your mother showed you her glowing tattoo, you couldn’t help but gawk at it as you gently ran your fingers over it.

It was then that you realized why your parents were perfect for each other. Whatever your father lacks, your mother makes up for it. They complemented each other. They told you that was how soulmates work, that everything falls into place as you meet them. They were two halves of one soul.

That was how you got really excited about weddings, not just normal weddings, weddings of soulmates to be exact. It was the reason why you were close to tears right now as you heard the priest say, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Your breath hitched and you placed your hands over your heart. You were so overwhelmed with happiness. You couldn’t close your eyes, if you did, tears would start to fall and you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

You watch as Jess smiles adoringly at Chanyeol before they both leaned in for a kiss. You were extremely happy for Jess. Chanyeol is a nice man, and a romantic one at that. When you first met him, you knew he was Jess’s ideal man and when you introduced them to each other you were shocked to know that they were actually soulmates.

You couldn’t imagine how Jess must be feeling. This was Jess’s dream too, to marry her soulmate. You wonder how she managed not to cry while you were barely holding your tears.

You look over the other guests. Their reactions were similar to yours which made your heart swell. You were glad the couple were surrounded with people who love and care for them.

Your eyes meet with your friend, Yixing, and you both smile at each other and wave. You and Yixing became friends when you were in high school. He’s heard you daydream about meeting your soulmate a million times already so he knew that you were also feeling a bit sad deep down, despite your joy for Jess. You knew too that he felt the same. You were both in your 30s and you both haven’t met your soulmates yet after all.

When the wedding and the reception was over, you bid Jess goodbye and congratulated her once again. You wished Chanyeol and her to live a happy life together. Jess pulled you into a hug and whispered, “You’ll find him too. Don’t worry,” as if knowing what’s plaguing your mind.

You smiled and nodded, although you weren’t sure if what she said was true. It was uncommon for people to meet their soulmates beyond 30 years old after all. What’s more uncommon is if one doesn’t have a soulmate. Just the thought of not having a soulmate made your heart ache terribly.

Yixing, oh sweet Yixing, suggested one time that if you both haven’t met your soulmates by the age of 35, you should just get married with each other. You agreed instantly, you didn’t want to end up being alone for the rest of your life. At least, you had Yixing who you knew would treat you right if you did get married with each other.

But fate was cruel. On his 34th birthday party which you planned, he met his soulmate, Diane. She was Jongin’s cousin who worked in China. She flew home to Korea to visit her family after years of working overseas.

How timely it was that Jongin brought her to Yixing’s party claiming that she needs to expand her social circle.

When Jongin introduced her to Yixing, you saw how they both froze. You wondered if it was true that you’d feel a slight buzz in your body once you find your soulmate. Out of nowhere, Diane and Yixing’s left elbows shined. You watched with amazement and slight sadness as four seemingly interconnected circles appeared glowing on their skin.

You had to admit, despite the bitterness on the tip of your tongue, it was truly breathtaking to watch the invisible tattoo come to life. It was magical to watch your skin shimmer and take form into something beautiful — all because of love. Maybe this was why the expression “You’re glowing” is said when you meet someone who treats you right.

With Yixing finding his soulmate, you felt lonely. Among your friends, you were the only one left without a soulmate. But Yixing finding his other half at such an age did give you a small flame of hope. That small flame was enough to make you happy, so when you got to talk to Yixing again, you congratulated him sincerely. But you could sense his worry as soon as the words left your mouth. He didn’t have to voice his thoughts, you knew well enough what he wanted to say.

You smiled at him. He truly is the sweetest person. “I’m fine Yixing, I really am. It rarely happens that you meet your soulmate when you’re more than 30 years old, but it happened to you. I have a feeling it’s gonna happen to me too.”

Yixing knows you’re a pessimist so he naturally gets worried about you, but today, he knew you weren’t lying when you said those words. He was glad you were being optimistic for once. “I know it’ll happen soon, darling. I have a good feeling about it too.”

That was enough for you. Yixing doesn’t lie and the fact that he believes you’ll find your soulmate flares up the hope you were feeling.

As much as you wanted to spend your time finding your soulmate, you have to work too. The previous company that you worked at unfortunately closed down. So you didn’t have a choice but to go look for a new job.

The company you’ve always dreamt to work at was EXO Pharmaceutical Company but it was a highly competitive company and when you applied back then, you lacked the credentials. You’ve been building up your resume and your credibility with seminars and training from your previous work, so this time you were really hoping to get the job. You just have to impress everyone there.

When you got a call from Jongdae, the HR personnel, saying you got the job, you were beyond ecstatic. You couldn’t help but jump around and scream as soon as the call ended. You called your parents informing them of your good news. You were close to tears as you heard them say that they were proud of you and the woman you became.

Just before you ended the call you father whispered, “We’re three parts of a whole.”

This made your heart melt. To you what he said was loud and clear: You don’t need another man to make you feel whole because you have us – your family. With that, your worries on whether or not you find your soulmate is gone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was your first day of work at EXO and you were really nervous. Junmyeon was assigned to help you familiarize yourself with the workplace and to guide you on what to do. When he first introduced himself to you, your breath hitched and your heart started thumping faster. Was he your soulmate? But then you notice that he had a glowing tattoo on his wrist when he offered his hand to shake and yours didn’t.

You felt embarrassed. This has happened a lot of times to you. You often mistake people as your soulmate. People had different descriptions on what they felt when they first met their soulmates so sometimes when you find someone overly attractive that it makes you nervous, just like Junmyeon, you get confused if that person was your soulmate or not.

You quickly push your momentary attraction aside because it felt wrong. Sure you were free to think some men are good looking but somehow you felt like you were cheating on your soulmate if you think of other men that way. What a hopeless romantic.

You clear your throat and greet Junmyeon warmly. He then guides you to your workplace. He points and names which equipment you’ll be handling. He teaches you how to handle the machinery and equipment. You were a fast learner and have handled almost the same equipment before so by lunch time, you were able to do things by yourself.

“Thank you for your help, Junmyeon.”

“No problem! Come on, let’s grab some lunch with the others,” he smiles at you. “The CEO wants to meet you later, by the way.”

This made you freeze. The CEO of the previous company you worked at never once visited you or asked to meet you. You’ve only ever seen him when there was a company event. So this was something that you weren’t familiar with. What if he sees something in you that he dislikes or asks something that you don’t know the answer to? Sure you just got the job, but he can fire you on the spot, no? You pale.

Junmyeon notices your panicked state and immediately says, “Hey, don’t worry. Mr. Kim is really nice. Although he does have an intimidating aura but that's just the CEO vibes,” he shrugs. “It’s customary for him to greet his new employees. I’m sure you’ll be fine as long as you’re polite.”

Junmyeon has a warm smile and a soothing voice, it did help a little in alleviating your nerves but you still couldn’t help but think of the worst. With a sigh you just nodded your head then plastered a smile.

Lunch with your coworkers was fun. You may have forgotten about meeting the CEO as soon as they graced you with their presence. Baekhyun, Sehun, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon were all fun to be with. Mostly it was Junmyeon and Baekhyun who talked a lot while the rest of you listened and laughed. It was nice to have people welcome you so warmly.

You weren’t used to talking a lot and you mostly kept to yourself when you’re in a new environment so this was quite different than what you’re used to. Different in a good way.

By the end of lunch, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief that you successfully made friends just on your first day at work.

As you were walking back towards your workplace, Baekhyun assured you that you didn’t need to worry about meeting Mr. Kim — the CEO. If Junmyeon liked you, then Mr. Kim would too. Apparently they were cousins.

You don’t really know if Baekhyun was lying, it was after all the first day you’ve known him. But his face was wiped off of mischief and the tone he used was comforting, so you found yourself believing him.

You were in high spirits when Mr. Kim’s secretary came to call you. But even when you weren’t as nervous as before and definitely less worried, your palms were sweating.

The secretary, Ms. Moon noticed you kept fidgeting, although, you swear to god you were trying to be subtle. She gives you a smile and says, “You don’t have to worry.”

You cringe internally. You’ve been awfully bad at hiding your nervousness today.

“Mr. Kim is really nice. Just be polite and professional.”

You nod your head and compose yourself.

“You ready?” She asks.

“Yes Ma’am.” You say as you rub your palms over your pants for the last time. You immediately put on a smile.

She knocks on the door, “Mr. Kim, Ms. Y/L/N is here.”

“Let her in.”

You entered the office with a smile on your face. Mr. Kim was still busy signing papers so he hasn’t looked up to you yet.

You stood in front of his desk, not really knowing what to do. Your heart was pounding so fast, you wanted to make a good first impression so badly.

It didn’t take too long though, after a second he has plastered a smile even before he looks up. When he finally turned his face to you, everything felt like they were moving in slow motion. You couldn’t even hear the clock ticking anymore. You freeze.

Mr. Kim is gorgeous. If Junmyeon made your breath hitch, Mr. Kim took your breath away. It was impossible, but you felt like your heart was pounding ten times faster than before.

Mr. Kim didn’t move. The smile on his face falters a little. You wouldn’t even notice it if you weren’t staring at him.

It felt like you were both staring at each other's eyes for an hour when in reality it was just one hot minute.

Mr. Kim was the first to break off from the trance. He clears his throat and smiles wider, “You must be Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Kim Minseok, CEO of EXO Pharmaceutical Company.” He offers his right hand to shake.

You return a smile and look over to his hand and shake it. As you raised your hand, your eyes focused on the back of his hand that was glowing. From the tip of his ring finger to his wrist lay a pattern of flowers. The pattern seemed to have surrounded his wrist too. It was beautiful and you were mesmerized. You unconsciously stopped moving to stare at it in awe.

Unbeknownst to you, Mr. Kim was observing you too. But when it took you a tad bit long to reach for his hand, he tears his gaze away from your face reluctantly. His eyes trail to his right hand which you were looking at. His eyes widened at the sight. He was quite sure the soulmate mark wasn’t there before. Which only meant one thing…

You. You were his soulmate. He was yours.

You realize that you were staring and so you straighten your back and reach for his hand. “I-I’m sorry—” but you stop in the middle of your sentence when your hand finally touches his.

There was a tingling sensation when it happened. You knew you weren’t imagining it because you felt Mr. Kim jolted slightly.

After the initial shock, Mr. Kim tightens his hold on your hand as he shakes it. You firmly shake his hand in return.

You clear your throat, “I’m sorry… for... zoning out, Mr. Kim,” you face down. You felt all your blood rush to your face in embarrassment.

Mr. Kim doesn’t respond. When you looked up, you noticed he was staring at your hands. He was still holding your hand and you didn’t know if you wanted to retract it at all. His hands were warm and soft.

But then you suddenly remembered that he was the CEO, he was your boss. So you carefully removed your hand from his grip.

That’s when you saw it. The back of your hand was glowing, exactly the same pattern and position as Mr. Kim’s. You almost gasped.

You closed your eyes really quickly and tried to compose yourself. Internally, you were screaming and jumping, but you have to suppress your emotions. It was highly unprofessional.

#minseok fluff #xiumin fluff #exo fluff #minseok fanfiction #minseok fanfic #xiumin fanfic #xiumin fanfiction #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #minseok x reader #minseok x you #minseok x oc #xiumin x reader #xiumin x you #xiumin x oc #exo angst #xiumin angst #minseok angst

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kuromichad · 4 years ago

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different subject that’s heavy on my mind rn but since i’m already being harsh let’s get into it. i wish it wasn’t automatically presumed to be some kind of truscum attitude when someone tries to express that different parts of The Trans Community have like, different needs and different risk levels and different experiences and that we have the ability to talk over each other, harm each other, etc... like when i put it that way people generally are like ‘of course that’s true!’ but is it ever really understood in practice? a number of people (not a large enough number, but still) are able to loosely understand ‘you can be trans and transphobic’ when it’s applied to the matter of transmisogyny but when a trans person tries to express distrust of or frustration with afab nb people due to how common it is that that category of person will, despite being trans/nb, espouse bioessentialist, anti-medical-transition, radfem-adjacent if not outright cryptoterf rhetoric, suddenly ‘trans people can be transphobic’ gets applied to... the person with a complaint about transphobia.

because he’s clearly an evil truscum man! regardless of if the person making the complaint is a trans man or trans woman, oops, lol. he’s a bad person who is attacking and invalidating and totally hatecriming the heckin’ valid, equally at-risk transgender identity of “an afab woman who isn’t a woman except when she pointedly categorizes themself as a woman because being afab makes them a woman who is ‘politically aligned’ with women but she’s not an icky unwoke cis woman because they don’t like being forced into womanhood although Really When You Think About It 🤔 all women are dysphoric because obviously the pathologized medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria in transgender people is something that equally applies to cis women just default existing under patriarchy 🤔, and no, equating these things totally does not imply anything reductive about or add a bizarre moral dimension to the idea of being transgender, whaaaaat, this woman who isn’t a woman doesn’t think there’s anything immoral or cowardly or misogynist or delusional about being transgender, they would never say that because THEY’RE transgender, except when she feels it’s important (constantly) to make clear that she’s Still A Woman Deep Down Inherently Despite Not Identifying As One, and none of this ever has any effect on how they treat the concept, socially and politically, of people who actually wholly identify with (and possibly medically transition to) a gender different from the one they were assigned at birth, be it ‘the opposite gender’ or abstaining from binary gender altogether or ‘politically aligning’ with the ‘opposite’ gender from their asab. never ever!”

and like maybe that sounds like a completely absurd and hateful strawman to you! but in that case you’re either like, lucky, or optimistic, or ignorant. i’m literally not looking at random nb people and declaring that in My Truscum Opinion they’re ‘really a woman’ just because they’re not medically transitioning or meeting some arbitrary standard of mine. i am looking at self-identified afab nb people, who most often use she/they because, y’know, words mean things, especially pronouns, so people who are willingly ‘aligned with womanhood’ typically intentionally use she/her (sorry that i guess that’s another truscum take now!!! that pronouns mean things!!! the bigender transmasc who deliberately uses exclusively he/him wants it to invoke a perception he’s comfortable with!), who actively say the things listed above (in a non-sarcastic manner).

like, the line between a person who says “i don’t claim to really not be my asab because i know no one would ever perceive me as anything else” because theyve internalized a defeatist attitude due to societal transphobia, and a person who says that because they... genuinely believe it’s impossible/ridiculous/an imposition to truly be transgender (in the traditional trans sense, beyond a vague nb disidentification with gender) and are actively contributing to the former person’s self loathing... is hard to define from a distance! i think plenty of people who are, in a sense, ‘tentative’ or like ‘playing close to home’ so to speak in their identity are ‘genuinely trans’ (whatever that may mean) and just going through a process. they might arrive at a different identity or might just eventually stop saying/believing defeatist stuff, who knows. but there are enough people saying it for the latter reason, or at least not caring if they sound that way, that it’s like, dangerous. it is actively incredibly harmful to other trans people. and it’s fucking ridiculous that it’s so difficult to criticize because you’ll always get the defense of “umm but i’m literally trans” and/or “well i’m just talking about ME, this doesn’t apply to other trans people” when it’s an attitude that very clearly seeps into their politics and the way they discuss gender.

because it’s just incredibly common for afab nb people (most typically those that go by she/they! since i’m aware that uh, i am also afab nb, but we clearly are extremely different, so that’s the best categorization i’ve got) to discuss gender in moralized terms, with the excuse of patriarchy/misogyny existing, which of course adds another difficult dimension to trying to criticize this because it gets the response of “don’t act like misandry is real” (it’s not, but being a dick still is) and “boohoo, let women complain about their oppressors” (this goes beyond ‘complaining’). a deliberate revocation of empathy/sympathy/compassion from men and projection of inherently malicious/brutish/cruel intent onto men (not solely in the justified generalizations ‘men suck/are dangerous’, but in specific interactions too) underpin a whole fucking lot of popular posts/discussions online, whether they’re political or casual/social, and it absolutely influences how people conceptualize and feel about transness.

because ‘maleness is evil’ is still shitty politics even when you’ve slightly reframed it from the terf ‘trans women are evil because they’re Really Men and can never escape being horrific soulless brutes just as women can never escape being fragile morally superior flowers’ to the tumblr shethey “trans women who are out to me/unclockable are tolerable i guess because they’re women and women are good; anyone i personally presume to be a cis man, though, is still automatically evil, and saying trans men are Just As Bad is progressive of me, and it’s totally unrelated and apolitical that i think we should expand the concept of afab lesbianism so broadly that you can now be basically indistinguishable from trans men on literally every single level except for a declaration of ‘but i would never claim to be a man because i’m secure in the Innate Womanhood of the body i was born into, even as i medically alter that body because it causes me great gendered discomfort.’ none of this at all indicates that i feel there’s an immense moral/political gap between being an afab nb lesbian vs a straight trans man! it says nothing at all about my concept of ‘maleness’ and there’s no way this rhetoric bleeds into my perception of trans women and no way loudly talking about all this could keep trans people around me self-loathing and closeted, because i’m Literally Trans and Not A Terf!”

again, if that sounds like a hateful strawman, sorry but it’s not. i guess i’m supposed to be like ‘all of the many people ive seen saying these shitty things is an evil outlier who Doesn’t Count, and it’s not fair to the broad identity of afab shethey to not believe that every person who doesn’t outright say terfy enough things is a perfectly earnest valid accepting trans person who’s beyond criticism’ but like. this cannot be about broad validation. this can’t be about discarding all the bad apples as not really part of the group. we can’t be walking on eggshells to coddle what are essentially, in the end, Cis Feelings, because in the best cases this kind of rhetoric comes from naive people who are early and uncertain in their gender journey or whatever and are in the process of unraveling internalized transphobia, and in the easily observable worst cases these people are very literally redefining shit so that ‘actually all afab women are trans, spiritually, all afabs have dysphoria, we are all Equally oppressed by Males uh i mean cis men <3’ because, let’s be honest, they know that the moment they call themselves trans they get to say whatever they want about gender no matter how harmful it is to the rest of us. and those ideas spread like wildfire through the afab shethey “woman that’s not a woman” community that frankly greatly outnumbers other types of trans people online, because many of those people just do not have the experiences that lead you to really understand this shit and have to push back against concepts of gender that actively harm you as a trans person.

like that’s all i want to be able to say, is Things Are Different For Different Groups. and a willful ignorance of these differences leads to bad rhetoric controlling the overall discourse which gets people hurt. and even when concepts arise from it that seem positive and helpful and inclusive, in practice or in origin those ideas can still be upholding shit that gets other people hurt. like, i don’t doubt that many people are very straightforwardly happy and comfortable with an identity like ‘afab nb lesbian on testosterone’ and it would be ridiculous and hypocritical for me, ‘afab nb who wants to pass as a guy so he can comfortably wear skirts again,’ to act like that’s something that can’t or shouldn’t exist. it’s not about the identity itself, it’s about the politics that are popular within its community, and how the use of identities as moral labels with like, fucking pokemon type interactions for oppression effectiveness which directly informs the moral correctness of your every opinion and your very existence, is a shitty practice that gets people hurt and leads us to revoke empathy from each other.

like. sorry this is all over the place and long and probably still sounds evil because i haven’t thought through and disclaimered every single statement. but i’m like exhausted from living with this self-conscious guilt that maybe i’ve turned into a horrible evil truscum misogynist etc etc due to feeling upset by this seemingly inescapable approach to gender in lgbt/online circles that like, actively harms me, because when i vent with my friends all the stuff i’ve tried to explain here gets condensed down to referencing ‘she/theys’ as a category and that feels mean and generalizing and i genuinely dislike generalizations but the dread i feel about that category gets proven right way too often. it’s just like. this is not truscum this is not misgendering this is not misogyny. this is not about me decreeing that all transmascs have to be manly enough or dysphoric enough and all nbs have to be neatly agender and androgynous or something, i’m especially not saying that nb gender isn’t real lmao or even that it’s automatically wrong to partially identify with your asab; this is not me saying you can only medically transition for specific traditional reasons or that you don’t get a say on anything if you aren’t medically transitioning for whatever reason, now or ever. i just. want to be allowed to be frank about how... when there’s different experiences in a community we should like. acknowledge those differences and be willing to say that sometimes people don’t know what they’re talking about or that what they’re saying is harmful. without the primary concern being whether people will feel invalidated by being told so. because these are like, real issues, that are more important than politely including everyone, because that method is just getting vulnerable people drowned out constantly.

#source on much of this: existing as a transmasc on tumblr for years and years.#i stopped identifying as any sort of 'woman-aligned' pretty much right before the ridiculous 'all afabs are dysphoric' stuff #but it sure did still make me hate myself and feel like a silly cowardly ugly little girl for wanting to transition!#and back when i WAS a she/they i definitely was falling for 'men are bad maleness is bad always inherently :)' rhetoric #not in the modern form outlined above but in the like. brainlessly parroted from 'baeddel tumblr' form #which was still like 'you can escape being a Bad Person by either becoming or admitting you are a girl :)'#and the only acknowledgment of trans men in this ideology was like. 'well i guess they feel like they have to do that :\'#'too bad for them. im not saying they shouldnt transition but you know. men suck though <3'#it was bad for me it was bad for other people so im saying from experience. Fucking cut it out! the end

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maskeddevera · 4 years ago

Text

I’m going to write a line by line analysis about the Fjord and Jester scene from last night. I had a bad day earlier this week, and the whole episode yesterday made me so happy, and this scene was beautiful, so I’m going to gush about it a bit. This whole episode really turned my week around (with the caveat that I went to bed so missed the final monster introduction.)

First of all, to set the scene, Jester has been struggling (but playing it off) ever since the spell stole a few years of her life earlier in the day. Fjord has been struggling because he realizes he didn’t even try to do anything to protect her, and the spell took a lot, and it could have been so much worse. He goes to her door, I think, mostly to confess that he feels badly that he wasn’t there for her and also vaguely aware that he might share his fear that they might not get that chance to deal with his baggage.

[Fjord knocks on her door.]

JESTER: Hello?

Jester is surprised. They often have heartfelt conversations, but Fjord doesn’t usually visit her room.

FJORD: Um, I was really worried about you...when you fell.

He just comes out with it...here’s the main thing, it was scary to see her fall.

JESTER: Yeah...

It was also scary for her, too.

[heavy eye contact]

FJORD: This suddenly feels far more serious than I thought it might be.

I’m not sure if here he is talking here about visiting the north or initiating this conversation -- but either way, he laughs. He’s nervous.

JESTER: I know. I can’t get the image out of my head...it’s scary.

Fjord gives Jester space to share. Like he said he would, he will listen to her. By initiating this conversation, she feels safe telling him that the image of the city that is haunting her.

FJORD: What do you think will happen?

An open-ended question for Jester. Again, letting her share her thoughts and fears...wanting to know what she thinks.

JESTER: I think if they bring it back, it will, um...it will absorb everything it can.

She sees the possibilities and how dangerous it could become.

JESTER [continued]: It felt like all of the people that lived there, like -- like they were part of the city now, like they could never escape. It felt like hell. It felt -- like torment.

She feels this so hard. It’s eating her up inside.

FJORD: And we have to stop it, right?

Fjord acknowledges that with that information they need to stop it--as a team, but you can see that he is still struggling with his concern for her.

JESTER: Yeah.

FJORD: I -- I may have an, uh, a problem. Uh...

The problem is he loves Jester and is worried that he would lose her. The problem is he feels like he wasn’t there for her. The problem is he is so scared.

JESTER [softly]: What is it?

Suddenly Jester is focusing on him, worried about what Fjord’s problem might be.

FJORD [continued]: I saw you standing on that pillar, and -- it was the first time where I kept myself from trying to stop something that was happening to you, and I didn’t do anything, and it’s--it’s bothered me.

Fjord feels like he screwed up and let her down. He feels like he could have lost her because he hesitated. Like he could still lose her if he hesitates.

JESTER: You couldn’t have done anything, Fjord. It was in my head, you know?

Jester isn’t sure why he’s beating himself up about this one - he didn’t even know what was happening.

FJORD: Uh. Yes.

I just like how he whispers the “yes,” like he knows it isn’t rational, but he still feels it.

FJORD: I don’t want you to gamble with yourself. I--I know we were playing, and it didn’t seem like much, and--it seems to have exacted a pretty serious toll. All I’m saying is, I just--I want you to be careful as we do this--I don’t think we’ll be the spectators that we thought we might be.

Here it is. Why he truly came time. He doesn’t want her to endanger herself. It’s a constant of not wanting her to be hurt or worse. He is starting to realize that they are involved deeper than they thought that they would be.

JESTER: Okay.

She listens.

FJORD: I want to come out of this and be able to go back to the sea, and go back to Nicodranus, and go back to where it’s warm and not f*ckin’ freezing, and...

Here the dream is stated. The happy ending. The sea, Nicodranus...her home, he’s imagining them returning together. A happy ending for both of them.

JESTER: Me too.

She is nodding. Same page. They have talked about this before, being together in a calmer time and place...some day. He is encouraged by her agreement.

FJORD: I just don’t know if that’s--I don’t feel as optimistic now.

More fears laid on the table. Maybe they won’t get there.

JESTER: Me neither. But...I’ll try to be safe. And you should, too.

She worries about losing the happy ending as well. She worries about his safety as well. He smiles when she shows concern for him.

JESTER [continued]: But if it comes down to it, if -- if it means stopping that Thing...I want to stop That Thing.

This decision is so important for Jester, and I love this for her ongoing arc. I also just really like that both clerics have this quest now. #TeamClerics

FJORD: I told your mother I would look after you.

So what I love about this sentence is Fjord absolutely takes his promise to Marion Lavorre very seriously, but that’s not why he says this to Jester. Yes, I do think he sees it as a vow (I love all the meta takes I have seen floating around about this being one of Fjord’s first steps into paladin territory), but what he is really doing here is the Fjord thing in which he uses others as a proxy for his feelings. So when Jester says she might endanger herself for the greater good, and he implies that her mother would be devastated if he had to tell her that something had happened to Jester, mostly he is thinking about how he would be devastated if anything happened to Jester.

JESTER: We’ll be fine, Fjord. We always are.

Jester attempts to reassure him and re-establish how they are a team. You can tell he isn’t fully reassured. And then he says what he really meant when he said “I told your mother I would look after you...”

FJORD: I care very much for you.

His voice in this moment...so real. Notice he still doesn’t use the word love, a token bit of holding back, but love is what is coming from him, and she hears it.

JESTER: Really?

Her trembling voice...all of the signs, and she thought maybe especially with recent events, but she wasn’t sure if she was reading into the gift and the eye contact and the pauses...she is so hopeful here. He nods, and takes a deep breath, and he just wants so badly to take the next step, but he is scared.

JESTER: Is it because I have chiseled cheekbones now?

She says this to break the moment because she feels his hesitation, and also because she’s self-conscious about what happened today. And it’s the best thing that can happen because when they are silly Fjord forgets to be all in his head and nervous.

FJORD: It’s the longer horns...

He’s joking, but also he always seems to find her strength to be the most attractive physical characteristic about her, so of course he picks the horns to compliment.

JESTER: Yeah, it really does it, doesn’t it?

FJORD: Yeah...gives you an intimidating look.

The truth is he was intimidated before the horns got longer. He wants to kiss her so much, so he pulls her in and asks...

FJORD [continued]: Can I kiss you?

Jester is delighted. She thought even if she wasn’t imagining things that this wouldn’t come any time soon. She shyly nods her agreement, and they kiss. I like how he nods and smiles, too, before kissing her -- he’s so relieved that she said yes!

FJORD: I don’t-- I don’t know how this will go. But I can’t promise that I’m going to let you just throw yourself at this thing. I don’t think I can do that.

This confession--he has made it to her before in a different way. Fjord will support her up to the point in which she could get hurt or die, and no more. And I also like how he always frames this confession as somewhat selfish, although it isn’t, because part of the reasoning is that he needs her. Also I think he is holding her this whole time because he never says that he lets her go.

JESTER: I don’t have an argument.

She is fine with him serving as her protector. She’s giddy. Maybe they kiss here quickly again? In any case...

JESTER: Kissing is a lot more fun when you’re not dying.

FJORD: Or, and, not when you’re underwater, drowning.

JESTER: Yeah, yeah...that’s what I mean.

FJORD: Umhmm.

After their first real kiss, they talk about their “other” first kiss - Fjord attempting to save her life. And we see here that while Jester previously wondered if it “counted” or not, it meant something to Fjord too and that he also saw it as a kiss, although it wasn’t the most ideal circumstance. And perhaps that is why they never spoke about it before, because it was easier to leave it in that nebulous area of maybe it meant something more.

JESTER: I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

While this statement works for Jester, giddy and flustered, I think it also works for Laura who 100% was not expecting any of this to happen in this session.

FJORD: I’ve wanted to do it for a while...I’m kind of a big coward.

And now that it’s out there, now that she let him kiss him, he feels like he can tell her about how his fears held him back.

JESTER: No, Fjord, you’re very brave.

Jester will always support Fjord and hype him up.

FJORD: I am very brave, aren’t I?

Being brave is facing your fears.

JESTER: Umhm.

FJORD: I feel a bit...better.

This is what love is. Things can still be dark but your loved one lifts you up. He looks at her to gauge how she feels.

JESTER: Me too.

[FJORD & JESTER overlapping voices as they teasingly discuss whether they really have to fight this city.]

FJORD: We can get cats and just flee...

As mentioned in my other post, I think Fjord is discussing acquiring moorbounders, not attempting to abscond with Caleb’s fey cats. Again, this dream is the one about them leaving it all behind together.

JESTER: We have to fight it.

FJORD: All right. I’ll see you in the morning.

JESTER: Okay.

FJORD: Goodnight.

JESTER: Goodnight, Fjord.

[Jester goes to hold her little unicorn, falling asleep holding it. Fjord doesn’t sleep much.]

I just love this final image -- Jester now certain that the unicorn figurine means what she hoped it meant (and hopefully not breaking it in the night). Fjord keyed up and turned on and thinking about the conversation over and over, because he surprised himself with his choices but it went well, better than he ever expected.

#Critical Role #Fjorester #Fjorjester #Fjord #my musings #Jester Lavorre #Jester #Critical Role: Campaign 2 #forgive any typos this is so long I am sure that there are some

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kageyuji · 4 years ago

Note

sfw alphabet for Kirishima?

Taglist: @transmantrash @rycbar-221b @squeaky-ducky

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

*pats roof of kirishima* this sweet boi can fit so much love inside

He’s pretty affectionate, although he makes sure to ask before any PDA or the first time he goes to touch you (even if it’s hand holding or a hug)

I can see him burying his face in your neck a lot

He’s a sucker for domestic life, but we’ll get into that later

All in all, he’s pretty affectionate

I feel like his love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service

Of course, he gives his fair share of the other love languages, but those two just stood out to me

He loves physical affection, he’ll occasionally just pull you into his lap and bury his face into your back/the crook of your neck

And he just kinda wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close

He also loves doing things for you

Like standing up for you, helping you with homework, or getting you gifts

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Sunshine boi

He’s so nice as a best friend?

Like of course he’s nice but the ingredients in a Kirishima is just kindness and adorable obliviousness (is that a word? Idk)

He’s probably one of those people that stay up until midnight so he can be the first one to wish you happy birthday

He’s somewhere between the funny friend and mom friend

Like I can see him having band-aids on hand at all times

And making sure you’re drinking water, eating, and resting when you’re supposed to

But at the same time he’s the friend that makes a joke in most situations

He’s pretty optimistic, so even in battles he’s trying to smile and make you smile, just so you don’t feel discouraged

Kiri would definitely call you at like 4 in the afternoon just to say he missed you and ask if you wanted to hang out

Speaking of hanging out, he’d also FaceTime you or go to your house just to kinda enjoy your company without actually having to talk to each other

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again

Kiri loves cuddles

He is an absolute cuddle monster and no one can convince me otherwise

He doesn’t really care how, he just wants to be close to you and hold you

He especially likes putting his head in your lap and letting you absentmindedly play with his hair

Another favorite is just like,, engulfing you lmao

He likes to hold you against his chest with his arms around you

It makes him feel really manly

Like he can protect you from anything

The Confidence(tm) it gives him

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Absolutely

He’s not one of those ‘trophy wife, white picket fence, 2.5 kids’ guys necessarily

But he’s a sucker for domestic life

in the fact that he likes waking up a little before you and seeing you walking into the kitchen with messy hair, sleepy eyes, and pajamas still on

Kisses, even though neither of you have brushed your teeth yet and you’re half asleep

He’s actually pretty good at cooking

He’s weirdly good at cooking pancakes, I can’t explain why he just is

Blueberry pancakes, chocolate chip pancakes, strawberry pancakes, they’re absolutely perfection whenever he cooks them

He is not that great at cleaning though

He tries, don’t get him wrong, he tries

Kiri also really likes lifting you up off the ground when you hug

Or waking you up with light kisses all over your face

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Honestly I can’t think of a reason why he would break up with them unless it was a matter of their safety/happiness

Or they did something really wrong/the relationship was toxic

But anyway, he’d go about it really cautiously

Because like I said, he wouldn’t do it because he lost feelings or something, he would still probably love you and not want to break your heart

Even if you broke his heart

So he’s gonna sit you down at a time when he knows you’re in the right headspace

He’d politely explain to you why, trying to phrase it the best way he knew how to

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I’m gonna be honest he’s ready for commitment pretty early on into the relationship

He gets attached pretty quickly, and when he does he gets insanely attached

But if he doesn’t feel like you’re 100% ready he won’t ask for your hand, and even after he does think so he’ll wait a long while just because he doesn’t want to rush anything

He has no problems with commitment, he likes feeling like he belongs somewhere

It makes him feel wanted in the same way he wants to be close to you all the time

He would die if you called him your husband/fiancé

Also, he calls you mr/mx/mrs Kirishima all the time and the smile on his face will not fade for the next few hours

After you agree to marry him, he wants to schedule the wedding as soon as possible

Obviously, he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s rushing things, but he’s just so happy that you wanted to actually marry him

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s gentle both physically and emotionally

Well, he tries to be physically gentle

He sometimes forgets his own strength or accidently turns his hand or something hard

But mostly he’s pretty gentle

and if he does hurt something/someone, he always makes sure to apologize and help fix whatever damage he’d done

And he feels so bad about it, the poor sweet babie

I can’t see him being rude to anyone, like ever lmao

I mean, you saw him feel bad for the guy who was trying to attack him in that one episode right?

Emotionally, he is very gentle

He’s very sweet, always offering his S/O compliments and doing sweet little things for them

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

The man loves hugs ok

And you know he gives good hugs

Like the ones where you’re kind of trapped in his embrace but it’s not like you’re complaining because you just feel so safe

But if he’s excited or hasn’t seen you in a while, it’s bone crushing

^^ He sometimes forgets his own strength, and therefore hugs just a little too tight when he isn’t paying attention

Also, he picks you up to hug you during those instances

He hugs...a reason amount?

Wait what’s a reasonable amount I’m touch starved

Like it’s not like he is hugging you every few minutes, but it’s not like he never hugs you

Maybe once when he first sees you, or when the two of you are parting ways

And he also hugs for comfort, but we been knew

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Oh, he says it the second he knows for sure

Although, it might be at a seemingly random time

Like you’ve just cracked some dumb joke and it suddenly hits him

And he just kind of blurts it out whether you two are alone in the room or not

Or maybe he can’t sleep one night, his mind is running crazy, and he realizes he can’t sleep because he’s thinking about you

And he texts you at 2 AM to tell you because for him it’s so important that you know in that instant

He doesn’t even care if you’re awake to respond, he needed to say it before he could sleep

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He gets a more insecure type of jealous

And he hates that he gets like that

Because he trust you and he wants you to know that

So for him to feel jealous makes him feel like he’s saying he doesn’t trust you; when, in fact, he trust you with his life.

When he does get jealous, you’ll know

He ask you if you think he’s manly enough for you

When he’s jealous, he always has his arms wrapped around you, holding you closely against himself

He tries to convince himself he doesn’t need to feel jealous of the other person because...you don’t like them, do you?

He usually ends up failing in convincing himself and winds up not-so-subtlety trying to get you away from the person.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kirishima’s kisses are always full of passion

His hand are always somewhere on you

Whether that be your waist, your back, your face, he just needs to be holding you

Usually, it’s just pecks on the tip of your nose or your forehead

But whenever he sees you for the first time in a while, after arguments, run-ins with villains, and similar circumstances his kisses are full of passion and longing

Also, he likes when you kiss his shoulders? I don’t even know why, he just loves it

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Kids loves him

They think him and his quirk are so cool!

And plus he’s really gentle and sweet with them

He shows off a lot infront of them because he’s trying to impress them

He talks to them a lot, telling them all about his hero work and how he used to have absolutely no control over his quirk

It’s a lot encouragement towards them

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He usually wakes up a little after the sun, not too early but not too late.

If you’re asleep, he won’t wake you up, he knows you probably need the sleep

Instead he’ll go cook you breakfast and bring you some in bed

If you wake up before him, please for the love of all things holy, wake him up with light kisses all over his face

He would die of fluff overload

Once both of you are awake, he pulls you against his chest and sits there until he can wake up mentally

Ok but can you imagine tired, shirtless standing in the kitchen sipping coffee?? That’s my sexuality

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’s the type that falls asleep on the couch watching TV

So he doesn’t actually go to bed until like midnight

He’s the type to get up at like 2 am to get some food or something and you think there is someone stealing lmao

He’s always holding you in some way when you’re sleeping, even if he just has his leg barely pressed against yours

Although he would much rather be cuddling with you

He takes night showers, so can we just take a moment to appreciate Kirishima with his hair wet

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Kirishima’s not the type to say everything all at once

But I also can’t see him being the type that just randomly mentions things and leaves you sitting there like ‘?’

He probably does it pretty early on in the relationship, or if you were friends first he starts mentioning stuff a month or two into the friendship

He mentions it slowly, not wanting to scare you away

Although, he is a pretty open person so there are some things you’ll be able to figure out right off the bat

He’s not very secretive with you, especially not after he opens up to you

So any fights you may have definitely aren’t because he’s hiding things from you

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Not very

He may get frustrated with himself a fair amount

But he doesn’t get very angered at other people very often

He’d much rather talk about what’s bothering him than argue or keep things bottled up, but he usually doesn’t have many problems with people

He would gladly take his time with anyone who asked for his help instead of getting impatient and starting to yell like other people might *cough* bakugou

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers a fair amount

Obviously he can’t remember everything you say

He does remember random little things you say, though

Like sometimes he might get you a plushie of your favorite animal that you might have mentioned you liked once.

It’s little sweet things like that

And obviously he remembers the important things about you, like your birthday or what you’d like to do once you graduate

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He remembers how a few months after you two started dating, he saw you were wearing his hoodie

It was actually a Crimson Riot hoodie, he’d had it for a while but he loved it

Of course, you knew how much Kirishima admired Crimson Riot

So you assumed he was smiling because the hoodie had been buried in his closet for who knows how long and he was seeing it for the first time in a while

“I like the hoodie, where’d you get it?” He joked, sitting down besides you

You just smiled and leaned on his shoulder

“Ya know, Kiri, I like it. But I think I’d like it a little more if it said ‘Red Riot’.”

His heart fluttered, you’d always supported him when im came to his dream to become a hero

But still, to hear you say that, it made him so happy

And he couldn’t deny that it made him fall just a little more in love with you

No, Kirishima could not function properly for the rest of the day

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Kirishima is protective of you but not in the “I’m not letting another man around you ever, you are not allowed to have friends, Nope” kind of way

It’s more of an “I just want you to be safe” kind of way

So he’s always there make sure you’re safe, he doesn’t know how he would be able to forgive himself if he couldn’t save you from something

Especially if you have anxiety, he wants to be there to ground you, to be the reason maybe your anxiety isn’t so bad

He actually doesn’t like being protected himself, though

Apparently it “isn’t manly” so he’ll always insist that he doesn’t need help

Even though he usually does

He needs more of an emotional type of protection, if that makes sense?

He justs needs someone there to hold him and tell him that everything is gonna be ok

Or really just someone to talk to, you don’t even have to listen

Because lets face it, he has a lot of insecurities from when he was bullied in middle school

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Ok so he’s not the type to plan big, extravagant parties and stuff for you

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t put a lot of time and effort into his gifts

He remembers what you like, what you don’t like

He take notes of all the little things, if that makes sense

He remembers your favorite flowers, your favorite animal, your favorite everything

He also remembers your favorite places, where you went on your first date, where you first met, where you had your first kiss, places like that.

So usually any time you have an an aniversary it’s at a special place

Also, he’s more of a pleaser than someone that likes to be pleased, so he does a lot of stuff for you

Like he’ll get you gifts just because he wanted to see a smile on your face

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He says “manly” a lot

He doesn’t have many, to be honest

If anything, it’s that he’d break himself before he gives up

Especially when it comes to you

He would use his last breath trying to protect you

Which can be an issue for you, you just want him to be safe

And then there’re goes, losing sleep trying to do things for you

When in reality the only thing you want from him is for him to be healthy and happy

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn’t mean to be

In fact he hates that he is

But after being bullied so much in middle school, he can’t help but feel a little insecure from time to time

Which is why he dyed his hair, started working out

That’s not to say that he’s vane about it, he doesn’t brag and think that he’s better than other people

But he isn’t as self conscious as he used to be, and especially not now that he has you at his side

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, he couldnt feel whole without you, not now that he knows what it feels like to have someone always there for him

He loves that he has someone to rely on so fully

And to suddenly not have that person there for him, to not have an anchor of sorts, there is n way he could feel completed again

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

This man has literally walked into the store with a whole ass grocery list, saw something that you might like or reminded him of you, bought it and forget about everything else he was supposed to get

He rushed home just to give you the little gift he had gotten you

It was not the first or the last time it had happened

Honestly just anytime he gets to bring a smile to your face is a good day for him

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He’s not a fan of someone who is picky

Like obviously you can have opinions, but he wouldn’t like someone who judges him, if that makes sense

He just doesn’t want to feel insecure

And I feel like if he was with someone who was in any way judgemental, he would be an insecure wreck constantly

Basically, he just wants someone who is open-minded

But he doesn’t really care about many other things

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Like I said before, he goes to bed at around midnight but falls asleep on the couch at like 10

But anyway

He’s a pretty deep sleeper, he has slept through a few bad storms in his life

He drools a lot. And also he snores a lot. Babie boi

He has an unreasonable amount of weird dreams but he only remembers like 2% of them

You know they happen though because he also talks in his sleep occasionally, and when he wakes up you’re just like “Kiri?? Why were you talking about overthrowing your ant overlords last night?”

No one knows

This man cannot keep the bed sheets straight in any sort of way, he he goes to sleep in the fetal position and wakes up laying horizontally at the foot of the bed

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cfiesler · 4 years ago

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thoughts on AO3 from a content moderation researcher

A few days ago I tweeted some thoughts about current conversations around content moderation and racism on AO3. I thought I’d reproduce here:

OK I'm going to weigh in on the tagging/content moderation conversation happening right now regarding Archive of Our Own. To be clear, this is me as a content moderation researcher who has also studied the design of AO3, NOT me as a member of the OTW legal committee.

To clarify the issue for folks: Racism is a problem in fandom. In addition to other philosophical and structural things regarding OTW, there have been suggestions for adding required content warnings or other mechanisms to deal with racism in stories posted to the archive.

Here's a description of the content warning system from a paper I published about the design of AO3, in which I used this as an example of designing to mitigate the value tension of inclusivity versus safety:

“Knowing that this tension would exist, and wanting to protect users from being triggered or stumbling across content they did not want to see, AO3 added required warnings for stories. These include graphic violence, major character death, rape, and underage sex. These warnings were chosen based on conventions at the time, what fan fiction writers already tended to warn for when posting stories elsewhere. Warnings are not only required, but are part of a visual display that shows up in search results. One early concern was that requiring these warnings might necessitate spoilers—for example, telling the reader ahead of time that there was a major character death. Therefore, AO3 added an additional warning tag: ‘Choose not to use archive warnings.’ Seeing this tag in search results essentially means ‘read at your own risk.’ Most interviewees found this to be a solution that did a good job at taking into account different kinds of needs."

The idea is certain kinds of objectionable content is allowed to be there as long as it's properly labeled. Content will not be removed for having X, but it can be removed for not being tagged properly for having X. This allows users to not have to see content labeled with X.

My students and I have studied content moderation systems in a number of contexts, including on Reddit and Discord, and I actually think that this system is kind of elegant and other platforms can learn from it. That said, it relies on strong social norms to work.

One of the big problems with content moderation is that not everyone has the same definition of what constitutes a rule violation. Like... folks on a feminist hashtag almost certainly have a different definition of what constitutes "harassment" than on the gg hashtag.

A few years ago we analyzed harassment policies on a bunch of different platforms and usually it's just like "don't harass people" but okay what does that mean? I guarantee you there are people on twitter who think rape threats aren't harassment.

So a nice thing about communities moderating themselves--like on subreddits--is that they can create their own rules and have a shared understanding of what they mean (here’s a paper about rules on Reddit). So you can have a rule about harassment and within your community know what that means.

I've talked for a long time about the strong social norms in fandom and how this has allowed in particular for really effective self regulation around copyright. In fact I wrote about this really recently based on interviews conducted in 2014. HOWEVER -

Generally, I think social norms are not as strong in fandom as they used to be, in part because it's just gotten bigger and there are more people and also some generational differences and we're more spread out. (My PhD advisee) Brianna & I wrote about this for TWC.

So the point here is that without those very strong shared norms, definitions differ - across sub-fandoms, across platforms, across people. Whether that thing we're defining is commercialism, harassment, or racism.

This isn't to say that there *shouldn't* be a required content warning for racism in fics, but I think it's important to be aware how wrought enforcement will be because no matter how it is defined, a subset of fandom will not agree with that definition.

That said, design decisions like this are statements. When AO3 chose the required warnings, it was a statement about what types of content it is important to protect the community from. I would personally support a values-based decision that racism falls into that category.

Design also *influences* values. An example of this was AO3's decision to include the "inspired by" tag which directly signaled (through design) that remixing fics without explicit permission was okay. Another quote from the paper:

“Similarly, Naomi described a policy decision of AO3 that was a deliberate attempt to influence a value. Prior work understanding fandom norms towards re-use of content has shown something of a disconnect, with different standards for different types of work [15,16]. Surprisingly, although fan authors themselves are building on others’ work, some don’t want people to remix their remixes. In Naomi’s original blog post, there is some argument between fans about what AO3 should do about this, with suggestions for providing a mechanism for fan writers to give permission for remixing. Naomi described their ultimate design, and feels that in the time that has followed the creation of AO3, the values of the community have actually shifted to be more accepting of this practice:

‘We had baked in right from the beginning that you could post a work to the archive that was a remix, or sequel, or translation, or a podfic or whatever, based on another work, another fannish work. As long as you gave credit, you didn’t need permission. In fact, we built a system into the archive where it notifies [the original author]. That was because we were coming from a philosophy where what we’re doing is fair use. It’s legal. We are making transformative work. We don’t need permission from the original copyright holder. That’s why fanfic is legitimate. But what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander… So, I think that’s an example, actually, where archive and OTW almost got a little bit ahead of the curve, got a little bit ahead of the broader community’s internal values. That was a deliberate concerted decision on our part.’”

A design change to AO3 that forces consideration of whether there is racism in a story you're posting could have an impact on the overall values of the community by signaling that this consideration is necessary AND that you should be thinking of a community definition of racism.

Also important: content moderation has the potential to be abused. And I know that this happens in fandom, even around something as innocuous as copyright, since I've heard stories of harassment-based DMCA takedown campaigns.

There's a LOT of tension in fandom around public shaming as a norm enforcement mechanism, and I would want to see this feature used as a "gentle reminder" and not a way to drum people out of fandom. (See more about that in this paper.)

That said, I think these reminders are needed. There will be a LOT of "uh I didn't know that was racist" and that requires some education. Which is important but also an additional burden on volunteer moderators who may be grappling with this themselves.

This is more a thread of cautions than solutions, unfortunately. Because before there can be solutions, we need: (1) an answer to a very hard question, which is "what is racism in fanfiction/fandom?" and this answer needs to come from a diverse group of stakeholders, and (2) a solution for enforcement/moderation that both makes sure that folks directly impacted by racism are involved AND that we're not asking for burdensome labor from already marginalized groups.

All of this comes down to: Content moderation is HARD for so many reasons, both on huge platforms and in communities. AO3 is kind of a unique case with its own problems but I am optimistic about solutions because so many people care about the values in fandom.

I’m still thinking about this and welcome others’ thoughts!

#archive of our own #ao3 #OTW #fanfiction #fandom #acafandom #content moderation

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cassahina · 3 years ago

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hello!!! i was wondering if i could get male matchups for saiki k and my hero academia, please!!!

my pronouns are she/her and i’m a gemini and enfp! to summarise my personality, i’d say i’m a super laid back person, optimistic, loud, dramatic and friendly! i don’t find it hard to become friends with people i vibe with and like although sometimes i prefer my own space and being alone. i love to tease the people around me and i can be very sarcastic with them too. i am prone to mood swings but they’re usually not that bad. i love to argue with people too(and i loveeee being right all of the time). i also love hugs and kisses(physical touch is my love language). i usually spend my time listening to music(chase atlantic is my favourite) and baking!!! i also like to play volleyball with my friends and just napping(i sleep a lotttt). as for something that’s a must for me, it’s to be surrounded by people who love me all the time and to never let my loved ones down. as for some thing i do not enjoy is talking to arrogant people who show off every thing they have and are inconsiderate of others who don’t have those things. i also hate people who hurt animals and treat them horribly. i also love cats and have my own!! thank you so much if you do this!!!

Sure thing!!! I’m assuming you meant romantic matchups here, and if not feel free to send another ask! But here you go, I hope you like it!

I match you with….

Aren Kuboyasu and Denki Kaminari!!!!!

I choose Aren because although he is a tough former delinquent, he is one of the more relaxed characters in Saiki K. while still being upbeat a good amount of the time and is actually pretty considerate in his own way. He never came across as arrogant and actually is pretty resourceful in skills, as well as very friendly with Saiki and the gang even though he has this former delinquent trope. You said that you are competitive and love to be around people who love you, and I see those traits in him as well (seeing as he and Kaido hang out a bunch as friends and he appreciates that). There could definitely be playful flirty banter and competitions, yet he would still be supportive (albeit a bit upset) whenever he loses. He also surprisingly seems like the guy who would be best with affection, seeing how Kaido is a blushing precious mess, Saiki doesn’t really understand it, Nendo is oblivious, etc. I could so see him as the type to make dinner and sit down and watch a movie cuddling on the couch with his S/O. He also would respect you for when you do need your alone time or your sleep, and is strong enough to carry you back home or to your room if you fall asleep somewhere.

I also chose Denki because he seems very extroverted and laidback like you, as well and very supportive, while more on the goofy side he is also very caring and has his friends backs. I definitely see him as the affectionate type (he radiates the energy of a happy golden retriever pup so), and he would be so down for doing any romantic cliche traditions like kissing on New Years or kissing under the mistletoes, but also is the type to randomly pick up their significant other and run around the house screaming how much he loves them. He definitely would be down for listening to music and dancing if you wanted to, as well as playing any game or competition you want (he is a great sport whether he wins or loses, what matters most is that you both have fun.) While he does like to show off a little, he is more so goofy than arrogant and would just like to impress you and show he loves you. He also isn’t the best cook, probably average at best, but would cherish any baked goody you made him. Just overall he would be supportive of your interests, very affectionate, and would love to be around you and other friends a lot while also still respecting you, and I think that would fit what you want :)

#cassierole the ultimate writing prodigy #matchup #romantic matchups #mha matchup #mha matchups #saiki k matchup #saiki k matchups #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k.#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #aren kuboyasu #kuboyasu aren #denki kaminari

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

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Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 1

written by @anotheronechicagobog

A/N: This is a new series I’ve been trying to work on and I’m so happy that I’m finally done the first chapter! It’s IMPORTANT to note that this the fic I took a survey for a while back so; Sarah Reese has a double specialty of ED and Neuro. Also, it’s a bit AU so be prepared for that.

Warnings: swearing, vomit, unplanned pregnancy, talk of abortion

The waiting room was a decent size, but she still felt small. Surrounded by medical diagrams and leather couches, and pregnant women, and pregnant women with children. She felt completely out of depth and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her tunnel vision was only broken when the nurse called her name. The older woman smiled at her obvious nerves and Sarah was instantly relieved, not because of the woman’s assuring demeanour, but because she knew that if she had gone to a doctor at MED instead of Planned Parenthood, she would have instead been met with shock, judgement, and awaiting a comment from Doris.

“Dr. Singh will be with you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

So Sarah laid back on the examination table in the flimsy blue paper gown with her unmentionables in the breeze, because of course, Sarah found herself in a situation where she’d need a transvaginal ultrasound instead of a pap smear. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to calm herself down.

“Ms. Reese?”

“Hi.”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Singh. You believe you’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I took two home tests, I’ve been nauseous but only between two and four in the afternoon and one and four in the morning, I missed my period, I’ve been fatigued, and my breasts have been sore. And it’s... Uh, it’s Dr. Reese, actually.”

“Okay, then. Are you in your residency?”

“Halfway through my second year.”

“So you know how this works then.”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring any support? We have counsellors and resources you can use. Your mental and emotional wellbeing is just as important as your physical health.”

“I’m fine. I just want to get the pregnancy confirmed and then book an abortion. I’m in my second year of residency, the father was a one night stand, and my main source of income comes from my mother who would not approve of me having a baby out of wedlock.”

“I completely understand. Med school was hard enough for me without pregnancy and then a baby. We’re still going to have a counsellor talk to you about it beforehand, make sure that you’re making the decision for you and not for anyone else.”

“Alright, I guess.”

“Well, let’s get started, shall we?”

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

Sarah was right, she was pregnant. She wasn’t surprised and it didn’t change how she felt. So when she walked into her next shift she didn’t expect a concerned Maggie to approach her. “Hey Sarah, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Maggie, why? Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“You’re pale, you haven’t been eating much lately, and you’ve been more tired lately. What’s going on Reese, are you sick? You can talk to Goodwin and she’ll give you time off.”

“I’m grateful that you’re worried about me Maggie, but I’m not sick or anything, I promise. It’s just stress.” Sarah tried and failed to tell herself that she wasn’t technically lying, but pushed that thought to the back of her mind and took in Maggie’s disbelieving demeanour.

“If you’re sure...”

“I am.” Maggie gave her a look that clearly said ‘I don’t think you’re telling the truth but your lie is plausible so I’m letting it go for now’ as she exited the doctor’s lounge, leaving Sarah alone. She took a deep breath as she put her stuff in her locker before grabbing a clean pair of scrubs. After she’d changed into them she looked into the full mirror of the dressing room, staring herself down. She willed against herself not to do it and lost. She turned to the side and placed her hands over her abdomen. She knew that the fetus inside of her was tiny, the size of a sesame seed, but... She didn’t know what she was doing, truthfully. So she shook her head and squared her shoulders before tying her hair back and walking up to the nurses’ station. “What have you got for me, Maggie?”

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Andrew Pierson was seventeen and optimistic, something that both she and Rhodes admired. It made their daily rounds and checkups much easier. On most days they both went at the same time so that both departments were able to get first-hand results and to prevent miscommunication. The only problem was that they were always at 3:30 pm, smack dab in the one-hour afternoon window of Sarah’s ‘morning’ sickness. She did her best to quell it in advance; ginger tea, fresh air, mindful of what she’d had for lunch, and she was always drinking water. Sometimes though, like today, morning sickness couldn’t be quelled or repressed. She and Rhodes were discussing Andrew’s latest brain scan and what his injury meant for a valve replacement, when it reared its ugly head like never before. The bile was rising up her throat, fast and hot. She stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, drawing attention from her colleague and her patient. She didn’t register dropping her tablet. She darted into the adjoining bathroom and emptied the little liquid she had in her stomach. Even after it was all out she had to sit there dry-heaving. The burning discomfort in her throat didn’t bother her like it used to, and the painful twisting in her stomach annoyed her more than anything else at this point. When the hellish nausea finally passed she was able to register that she wasn’t alone. Rhodes stood behind her, holding her hair back for her. She turned to look at him and he clearly felt unbelievably awkward, like her, but she did see worry clearly on display behind his eyes. “What’s going on, Reese? You’ve been sick all week.” She hastily got on her feet, only for Rhodes to have to steady her when her balance wavered and mind spun from doing it too fast. After she was okay enough that Rhodes could let go, she warily made her way to the sink to rinse her mouth, only to find that there was some vomit on the edges of her lips and chin, only furthering her embarrassment as Rhodes tried to make eye contact in the mirror.

“It’s nothing-”

“Okay, stop. This is not nothing, you don’t think I’ve noticed how pale and nauseous you get every day? I may have my head wrapped around for too much but I’m not an idiot. Not to mention, you literally just dropped our patient’s brain scans to vomit. You are not fine, actually, you know what? Let’s just go down to the ED, get you checked out-”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Reese, these are continual symptoms, they could be the sign of-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“... Oh.” Sarah bit out harshly, turned the water off, and left the bathroom, leaving Rhodes standing by the toilet, as she blinked back tears. The look in his eyes, the acknowledgement, the pity. She picked up her, thankfully undamaged tablet, as a demure Dr. Rhodes came to stand beside her again. “I’m very sorry Mr. Pierson, I think I ate some bad sushi yesterday. Let’s just finish our appointment and then we can get you started on your new preparation plan so that you’re ready for surgery, okay?”

“Sounds good, and I hope you feel better soon, doc.”

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

Dr. Rhodes had spent the remainder of Andrew’s appointment standing beside her clearly shocked and somewhat muted. When they both left though, he steered her into the closest conference room he could find. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, now if you’ll excuse me I have other patients that need my care-”

“What about you? Who’s caring for you? You’ve been really sick, and although pregnancy explains it, it doesn’t change the fact that you have concerning symptoms or that Maggie is one bathroom trip away from admitting you into the hospital herself. Because I haven’t heard anything about you in any of the gossip I’m going to assume that you haven’t told many, if any at all, people here. So is there anyone who knows? Anyone who can help you out? And what about the father? I mean you’re pregnant, you’re going to have a baby. Have you spoken to Goodwin yet? She’ll work with everyone to make sure that you’ve got everything you need-”

“Okay, stop! No one knows and I want to keep it that way. I’m not... I’m getting an abortion. And I just...” Sarah took a deep breath as she blinked her tears away. Not now, not at work, not in front of Dr. Rhodes.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” He stood there awkwardly, his arms hovering around her form, unsure of whether he should embrace her or not. Sarah shrugged his hand away and took a few controlled breaths. “I won’t tell anyone, but, does anybody know? And I don’t mean from work, I mean in general, do you have someone to talk to about this? Or take you to and from the procedure?”

“No but it’s fine, I’ll just call a cab after.”

“What if something goes wrong during the procedure, who are they going to call? You have to list an emergency contact.”

“I’ll be fine, everything will be fine.” Sarah took a steadying breath as she tried to quell her morning sickness, again, and stop her body from shaking. “Are you trying to reassure me? Or yourself?” Sarah honestly didn’t have an answer for that.

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Sarah cursed herself constantly over the fifteen-minute drive it took to get to Molly’s. Not only did she reveal a pretty damning secret to one of the hospital’s top surgeons, but she hadn’t been able to get out of going to the bar with the rest of the ED staff. And since Molly’s was a firefighter bar, owned by a few members of the 51st firehouse, the father of her child was most likely going to be there. She sat in her car, trying not to let the dread fill her as she stared at the ornate door of what was now her least favourite bar, not that she enjoyed drinking enough to have a favourite. She took the seat next to Maggie and tried to join in on the laughter that was being shared amongst her colleagues. But she couldn’t, she felt hot and cold all over, her breathing was tense, her chest was constricted, and her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. The fact that Jimmy Borrelli, the father of the unborn child inside of her that he didn’t even know about, was staring at her with familiar lust-filled eyes, and that Connor Rhodes, currently the only person who knew about her pregnancy, just entered and looked at her with a mix of shock, horror, and concern, did absolutely nothing to help with her stress or her pregnancy symptoms. Rhodes made his way over to the table with a guarded look on his face. “Hey guys, how about I get the next round?”

“You’re not new anymore Rhodes, we know you’re not a complete stuck up ass, you don’t have to keep trying to bribe us.”

“Thanks for your words of kindness, Halstead, but this isn’t bribery, this is me offering beer.”

“... Fair enough, man. I think we’re all up for it.”

“Great, hey Reese, would you mind helping me carry it all over?” The meaningful look Rhodes sent made it clear he was using this as an excuse to talk to her away from their co-workers. “Sure.” She tried to sound chipper as she hopped out of her seat, but her voice was tired and it cracked partway through the word. Rhodes visibly frowned and Sarah could feel the concerned stares from her co-workers. They walked to the counter and nodded at Hermann, ready to wait until he was available. “I know that you’re... ‘Cancelling your subscription’,” he spoke lowly, mindful of all the ears around them and how fast gossip flourished among the groups present, “but you still, you know, have it. Should you be drinking?”

“I’m not. I’ve missed too many get-togethers and because of my, uh ‘binge-watching’. People, Maggie in particular are getting suspicious. And honestly, even though I’m ‘cancelling my subscription’, I can’t bring myself to do anything to harm... You know. I, uh, I don’t even drink, really.”

“Yeah, I know. Is there anything else I can get you, then?” Sarah shook her head even though her stomach had turned on her and was eating itself. The bodily organ betrayed her, making an audible growl that could be heard above the music bursting out of the speaker directly above them and the loud mixture of conversations that made nearly everything inaudible. He raised his eyebrow as she scolded herself internally and tried to ignore the warmth creeping up to her cheeks at his bemused expression. “You sure about that? How about some food? I hear that Mills has taken up working the kitchen here, the food should be good.”

“The food is great! And I’m not just saying that because I own that place.” Sarah jumped at Hermann’s voice, not knowing he’d gotten back to them.

“Would you mind showing me a menu then, Hermann? I won’t turn down free food.” Sarah nodded her head at the man standing next to her with a slight smile on her face, feeling better than she had all day if she was being honest. “Oh, is the good doctor buying again?”

“Yes I am, which reminds me, three pitchers of Coors please, and-”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“And spaghetti and meatballs, please.”

“You got it. Here’s your beer, glasses for everyone, and your food’ll be brought over to you when it’s done.”

“Great.”

“And Reese?”

“Yeah?”

“Give us a good review, will ya? We could use all the help we can get to gain some traction for the kitchen.”

“You got it.”

Sarah eyed the tower of glasses she had in her right hand, concentrating far more than necessary if she was being honest, to make sure that she didn’t drop them. When Sarah set the glasses and full pitcher down she took the opportunity to look around the tables at her colleagues. Everyone had gone back to their conversations, and weren’t regarding her with caution, except for Maggie and Manning. They shared a look with each other, then her. “I’m fine, promise.” They shared another look with each other before discreetly taking her hands into theirs. “We don’t believe you.”

#One Chicago #chicago med #Chicago Fire #Sarah Reese #connor rhodes x sarah reese #connor rhodes #maggie lockwood #Natalie Manning #jimmy borrelli #will halstead

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courtorderedcake · 4 years ago

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Majestically Too Far Beyond : CSSNS 2020

It’s finally here! Yaaaay! Here’s my @cssns for 2020, Majestically Too Far Beyond, title based on the Poem written by Komal Kapoor. You can read my explanation of how this mess all got started Here. Art is by @kmomof4 and I threw in some too for fun.

Summary : Emma Swan has never been that type of girl, you know, the one that cries and sinks into a pint of ice cream after a break-up. She's never ever cared about anyone other than completely out of survival, but then came Neal, and then came the final big break up with someone maybe she sort of kind of loved. So now she is one of those girls who are homeless, living with her adopted brother and his wife at their farm in a long abandoned Victorian keeper's home, desperately trying to save to get her own place while working her difficult government job and as a merc witch on the side. When a desperate Witch calls on her to do a spell, it's all bad news - but then said Witch revealed a mountain of gold coins, and whimpered that Emma is her only hope. How can she not be a bad ass magic savior for this poor soul? All seems to be well, until the consequences are suddenly very real. Killian may be a Demon, a fallen Angel that now delights in the practice of revenge, but first and foremost he's a gentleman. Sort of. Especially when his ruddy Angel brother is focused on bureaucracy and keeping mankind out of chaos, while Killian barely keeps his denizens as safe as he can in a world that wants Demons dead. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. When Killian goes above to plead for more safety laws in the metropolis of Hyperion Hills, the city that lies over a major portal to hell, he does not expect to meet a council that the elemental five sit on. He especially doesn't expect that the council would ever take him seriously in his campaign for demon safety. Regina, Snow, Ariel, Elsa, and Belle seem dead set on making it their pet project - each for their own very different reasons. Especially when they bring up hiring a tempestuous security consultant, Emma Swan. When they adjourn, he can say that he is optimistically apprehensive. An optimistic Demon never leads to good things, unless by good things you mean throwing back rum while chasing a pretty woman for plundering. He's unsure of what to expect when challenged to do shot for shot by a mysterious blonde Witch, who didn't care who (or what) he is, but he does like a challenge. Too much in fact, the challenge raising the stakes, because from there on it becomes a blur, and yeah, he's bloody well in it now. The idea of a contract sounds fantastic when they stumbled into the strange tower, half naked and wanting. It's the ritual she does instead that he should have been paying attention to. So, maybe now he's missing a hand, and has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, his and someone else's, a mirror's accursed magic the only thing to tell him what took place: he's a prisoner until someone lets him free… And a woman that he’s positive did not exist in his life yesterday, who just happens to not only be a Witch but a complete stranger, is pregnant with his child.

Rated E, but really falls in at more of a M. Fluffy angst with some adult themes and hinted undertones. READ ON AO3 HERE.

Chapter 1 - Long ago, eclipses were feared as well:

To say that the Jones 'Brothers' had been fighting since time began, was not an understatement, but also not exactly truthful. They had actually been fighting before recorded time, and before there was even a concept of the perception of anything besides the aether or eternity.

That's why he'd fallen, actually. Loss was a powerful motivation, enough even to question the utmost Authority - and the Authority despised questioning. Fighting was in the nature of the divine Celestials, as it seemed, and in Her infinite curiosity that She defined as 'Wisdom', God had let Lucifer burn too brightly. Their war was a lover's jealous quarrel turned violent.

Although Liam was created moments before Killian, they were brothers (as it were) even amongst a host of angels, and they were close regardless of their stubborn spats. They fought over the world and its workings, Liam given a flaming sword while Killian was given books. They fought over knowledge of the divine arts, arguing whether humans were worthy of the Arcane. They fought over Killian's love of a mortal woman, and his questioning of commandments.

They fought over Killian standing behind Lucifer, and Liam fought Killian right before he fell. In some ways, it was Liam's own hand that pushed Killian, but in his last angelic act, Killian forgave his brother.

While Earthborne and some remnant Angels believed Demons were not capable of love, they were of course wrong. Demons loved, lost, and forgave just as any others. Even after the schism, even after years of passive aggressive pettiness between both sides, Demons were still seen as wayward, dark, demented creatures. Angels had done little to fight this stereotype, instead reveling in their continued status as goodwill ambassadors.

Even their name amongst mortals was a cosmic joke, the Creator and her lover-made-antagonist too long gone to bother with proper names. They were Angels or Demons to some cultures as humans grew on God's abandoned project, while others called them by their new names.

The Angel Diana was called a Goddess alongside Hecate, Freya, Gabriel, Uriel, and many others. The Demons Zeus, Odin, Loki, Hades, and Poseidon happily took on roles that suited their carnal needs. Angels mixed with mortals along with Demons, God's secret seeds of elemental magics taking life along beside them as Druids, Fae, and Elementals. Some of the Celestials even birthed life as their lost parents had, Demons begetting Demons, Angels begetting Angels, and everything or anything in between.

Humans gained magical prowess as the world changed, Witches, Druids, Warlocks, Mortismals, and Mesmerels becoming the norm for human bloodlines.

Still, Demons were given less, all because God had cursed them irrevocably before disappearing with Lucifer into the abyss. They were cellularly different now than any of the Angels they had once been, a yoke around their neck that they could be forced to obey. Like Angels, they could be worshipped, called, trapped, or contracted even as their powers and bodies twisted into the curse stained strangeness God graced them with. They were looked on with disgust, pity, horror, and anger for it despite their best attempts.

Which was why his sodding Ponce of a brother working as an Angel ambassador for a Prince of Hell was so important - and so bloody frustrating.

It wasn't as if being a Prince of Hell wasn't stressful enough - his people always under siege or afraid of some Witch summoning them to place a brand, then using them as a charcuterie board - no. It was that his brother was a baked potato when it came to convincing the public they were not what millennia of ingrained hatred had established Demons as.

Bosch had died before Killian could uppercut him, regardless of his depiction of Liam as a trumpeting ferret bird or the even less flattering version of Killian. Dante had been another great PR stunt his brother had botched miserably. The Rings of Hell weren't even used, Lucifer gone before he could put God's plans for punishment into place. Now as a museum and reenactment park, it was a popular attraction that helped generate funds for the denizens that lived in the spacial plane that surrounded it, but Dante's review had been swayed by Liam taking him into The Kingdom right after. How could Hell ever live up to the paradise God herself had planned for humans? Only Cedar Point, Busch Gardens, Disney, or Universal Studios could come close as far as themed parks. It was a complete disaster.

This newest idea of Killian sitting on the board of Hyperion Heights to work with the world's premier intersectional coven, 'StoryBrooke', was another terrible idea in the making, and Killian had no qualms letting his brother know it.

"This is absolutely ridiculous Liam," Killian gritted out, itching under the glamor that made him look mortal. Being confined in a skin suit had his molecules vibrating so loudly he could hear his canines, starlight and cosmic fire sending pinpricks of goose flesh down the dark hairs of his arms and legs. Wearing this was torture enough without Liam staring at him in disdain, his own heavenly image unblemished. Even his halo was a polished gold around his fat head. "While I am a dashing rapscallion in my original skin, don't you think it's bad form for them to see me like this instead of how I actually look? Isn't the point of this to show that even if we're not as pretty as your lot, we're still beings that deserve respect?"

Liam grunted, rolling his eyes. Blue fire from explosions of stars and galaxies lit in mirrors of Killian's own, but framed by rosy cheeks and tawny curls instead of moving shadow, a ghoulish pallor, and dark hair the color of ink or raven's feather. The Angelic glamor contained the haze of darkness that moved like smoke around him, the length of his fingers and claws, and made his flesh look pale but not tinted the color of the universe's light. It did not hide his horns (remnants of shattered halo) or his twitching tail if someone chose to leave eyes on him too long, but that was another Demonic burden to bear.

"First impressions, little brother. Even the most progressive Witch is still a Witch. I'd rather them see you like this instead of wondering if you truly need all your giblets."

Killian swallowed hard, nodding once before grumbling, "Younger brother. Younger."

"Go over your notes again. You'll need to be your nauseatingly charming self for this, especially if they bring the males in their midst," Liam asked of him, and Killian looked out the dark windows of the car as his tail moved in agitation.

"Regina. Head of the Coven, Witch and Mortismal that inherited her throne from her mother. Began the integration method and broke away from the Misthaven Coven to create the StoryBrooke one," Killian intoned.

"Right. She's a tough nut too, and her ghosts do the most of her dirty work. She's not someone to cross unless you want your chairs stacked to the ceiling every morning by some bloody poltergeist."

"Aw, well, I'm unfortunately haunted by you already, I doubt a poltergeist could do more damage." Killian slanted a look at his brother, who gave an annoyed huff as his pure white feathers ruffled. Killian was thankful in part that he did not have wings at all times, even if the trade off was painful. "While Regina is the head of the Coven, the head of the Council is Elsa Frost of the Frost twins. She's a direct descendant of the Giant Ice Sorceresses with powerful magic, but her passion is creating legislation for Hyperion Heights. Her sister Anna is the family's public relations face, and runs their fashion empire, Arendelle Designs with her Druid husband."

"Good. Good, tell me about Ariel Poisson."

"Siren and Mermaid, with four years on the council. Made history as the first water Elemental to sit on the council, beating the long seated Witch, Ursula, by a large margin. Opponents argue that her father's position as King of the seas and his dominion over fair weather and fishing made voters nervous to not cast ballots for her. Her campaign slogan was 'Part of your World', which could be beneficial to my campaign."

"Right. Snow Blanchard?"

"Would-be heir to the Misthaven Coven who ended its elitist reign by breaking tradition and leaving, sending them into chaos." Killian smirked. "She sounds like someone who I could get along with."

"She gets along with everyone except her family, which is more than normal it would seem," Liam replied back, and Killian snorted out a chuckle.

"Druid, Elf, and Green Witch. Runs a high profile herbal apothecary chain Enchanted Forest Supplies, focused on holistic medicinals, herbs, and spices. Nolan Farms is a subsidiary that sells produce to the Heights, which is her husband's 'pet' project."

"Watch yourself, brother," Liam warned. "While you might get away with that if it's just the Witches, if David and Ruby sit in today you'll find that will not stand."

"Ah, yes. Ruby Reddings and David 'Charming' Nolan. You only circled that they are Werewolves in red ink everywhere you could. David is Snow's husband, and her lead farm hand. Ruby is Snow's cousin who introduced the two. Ruby is currently in a high profile relationship with your colleague, Inspector Wolfe, and they both are very active in pack politics. Many are betting they will create their own pack if the current Alphas do not abandon some of the more ancient doctrines. Nothing new there."

"Don't forget Livre and Fa."

"Belle Livre, Witch turned Vampire, runs a community literacy foundation and bookstore chain. Known ally to Demon rights. Soft spoken but brutally intelligent. Introduced a synthetic blood that allows for daytime living via plant cells collaborating with Enchanted Forest, which made history 6 years ago," Killian listed. "Mulan Fa, Vampire. Cultural Development head of the Heights, and curator of The Hyperion Heights Museum of Art, History, Science, and Culture. Teaches part time at Hyperion Heights University as an adjunct professor. Fa is married to a Fae Elf, Merida Ursa."

"Good. That's as far as we know besides the whole Swan fiasco, which is not to be brought up."

"What Swan fiasco?"

"Oh, little brother. If you had done your research outside of the profiles I gave you, you would know all about the criminal history of the black and heartless sheep within the Misthaven and StoryBrooke covens. It's better off that you don't know."

"Er. Well. Alright. I didn't look into them because I don't bloody well care about their lots as long as we get protection. There was another slaying this weekend. A Lower Demon."

"I'm aware. Did you know her?"

"Not really, but that's not enough either. I owe my people more. The other Lords of Hell are fine telling Demons to stay below and never use their name, which is fine for the new blood. It's the old, the weak, and the abused that are at risk."

"Careful, Killian. Your lust for vengeance will never be welcomed by mortals."

"I'm well aware Liam. They like my kind for an entirely different kind of lust."

"Could you please not." Liam sighed, sitting back against the seat. After a moment, his brother spoke quietly. "There was another attack as well, this time in broad daylight in Camelot Town. The Anti-Integration Movement has claimed responsibility."

"Of bloody course they have!" Killian hissed, clenching his fists. He pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "Brilliant. Just absolutely marvelous -"

"They were going to run a story in the Times. I managed to block it for now, but we need a sympathetic writer on the inside, or we risk them running another story with their bias."

"I have a guy. I'll reach out, he's an old school Warlock who I've worked with in the past on push back. What's their excuse this time?"

"They said that the Succubus was, quote, 'asking for it by the way she was dressed'."

Nausea rose in Killian's throat, and he swallowed it down with bitter practice. "I wasn't aware that how someone dressed meant their lives were not only void, but taking pieces of them was fine as well."

"We know they're being funded well, and we will get arrests as soon as possible. This won't be forever, Killian."

"That's easy for you to promise when this has been my - our forever." Killian bit out, glaring at his feet.

The car came to a stop, the driver opening the door to let them out. Killian moved briskly up the steps of the council building, as Liam followed behind. They moved through the lobby with an easy flash of Liam's ID that Killian scoffed at, moving into the elevator.

"After that display, I'm going drinking after this," Killian gritted through his teeth.

Liam blinked, straightening his tie in the door's polished reflection. "What display? They were nice."

"Exactly. If I came here alone, I would have been in that security line for an hour."

Liam rolled his eyes, taking down his halo to polish the golden ring. "You absolutely exaggerate how you're treated. Not everyone is out to get you, especially when you look like this. Give others a break."

"I'll give myself a break after this with as much rum as I can safely consume, instead."

The doors pinged open to reveal a small atrium, dark wood flooring in stark contrast to the birch tree covered walls. A secretary stood behind a rounded desk against the far wall, motioning for them to sit.

"They'll be with you in a moment," she offered, glancing at them with a thin smile. Killian could practically taste her distrust as he scratched behind his ear. Liam swatted at him lightly in a bid to get him to stop, both of them tense when the doors finally opened to reveal a petite woman dressed in a powder blue skirt and blazer.

"Come in gentleman. The council will see you now." She smiled icily. His brother stood, his feathers slightly puffed in an indication of his own nervousness.

Killian followed a second later, walking with them as they made forced, but pleasant conversation all the way into the boardroom.

Women sat at a long table that curved slightly, facing their own small table similar to a courtroom. He was reminded of the tribunals in the old days when law had begun, but the courtiers were far different than the strange group of women scrutinizing them.

To his surprise, the majority of them seemed actually curious instead of repulsed or bored.

"The council recognizes Liam Jones and Killian… Jones. These are your chosen surnames, correct? And you identify as… brothers?"

"Yes," Liam stated firmly with a curt nod. Killian watched from his peripheral as his shoulder muscles twitched, his wings held stiffly upright to keep them from the floor.

Killian nodded, careful to keep his tail curled around his legs. The skin suit itched as it clung to him, not abated by his attempt to sit more casually.

"Interesting," remarked the dark haired witch at the far right. A nameplate sat in front of her, marking her as Regina. He wondered idly if her stare was due to the blood on his hands only an eternal existence could bring.

"You are here to ask for help in creating safety measures and a potential council commitment to Demon rights, correct?" Ariel, a fiery haired lass with a heart face, asked.

"Our major point of concern is the influx of hate groups that seem to fall in line with smuggling operations and planned violence," Killian said slowly. Attention snapped to him, and he brought up the slide presentation he had prepared. "We have had some luck stopping shipments and arresting bit players, but we can't find the heads of these operations."

"You can't find them, or you are barred from digging deeper?" Mulan asked, and he chuckled darkly.

"The latter, I'm afraid. We have consistently come to the same dead end again and again. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you ladies how difficult a foe powerful covens behind corporate entities are." He let a grimace creep onto his face, and saw the majority of the women nod in acknowledgement.

"This could make many enemies for us, if approached in the wrong way." Belle stated quietly. "Specifically with our good friends in the Storybrooke Coven."

Snow nodded, exchanging a bitter look with her. "We may need a professional from our coven, but she's unable to get clearance without special notation."

"Oh? Who is this?" Liam asked.

Elsa and the rest of the coven smiled in varying degrees of fondness. "The best in the business, and in my Coven. If you need to find someone, Emma Swan can always find them, and she's good at criminal magical activities. She knows the system, knows how and where to hide, and where to seek."

They'd found what the coven wanted, and their stake in the venture. Killian caught Liam's face falling, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"You can't be serious. Involving Swan in this after -"

"That was all a misunderstanding, and was blown completely out of proportion. We have long held up our end of the blame and accountability, while Misthaven has shirked theirs in the name of slandering her." Elsa steepled her fingers. "If you desire the best, which I assume is why you are here, you need to rehab not only Demons’ image, but hers as well. She should be sitting here with us."

Liam tried in vain to tip the scale back in their favor, his face going red. "We'll consider this as part of our negotiations."

"Negotiations? Liam, you are a detective. You should have deduced by now that you have no leverage. You have only decisions to make." Regina closed her planner, regarding them with her dark gaze. "So, make them quickly, before our patience wanes."

Killian bit back a laugh at Liam’s sudden blustered stuttering. These witches were good, and as the meeting ran on for hours he realized just how much liquor he would need to recover.

"Well that went well."

Liam’s sour expression and slumped shoulders were just visible in his peripheral, even as his feathers were still quite literally ruffled. He huffed out a noise of disapproval, too vexed to even reply back.

"Aye to that, brother." Licking his lips, they stepped into the cool dusk air. "I'm going for that drink, are you…?" Killian glanced at Liam, who shook his head with annoyance.

"Seriously? You really -"

"Really shouldn't what Liam?" Killian smiled, venom leaking into his tone. "Go get drunk in a town that would rather pretend I don't exist or sell me in a fine powder to the nearest bidder? I think I'll be okay, although the concern is duly noted."

He turned on his heel, his glamor falling away in a puff of smoke. The air hit his itchy, overheated skin, his tail whipping around in sharp, agitated flicks.

"Take care of yourself, little brother! No need to be a self destructive bastard. We lost a battle, not the war!" Liam called after him, stepping into his sleek car. Killian snorted.

Hailing a cab with some difficulty, the driver asked where he was headed with the same slight resignation he was used to for his kind.

"A bar, Demon friendly please. Some place without swill."

The driver nodded, dropping him at a dimly lit corner of the city. A red neon sign spread crimson light along the sidewalk, soft light also spilling out the doors accompanied by loud guitar. Looking up, the looping, swirled lettering made him smirk. 'The Jealous Flask' was as good a place as any in his neck of the underworld woods.

The inside was smoky, deep red damask wallpaper paired with dark, pitch stained wood panels, booths, and bartop. The liquor selection was displayed neatly, unlike the few early patrons sitting scattered around. The jukebox played warbly rock music, some punchy chords and an easy to memorize refrain.

'one two three four, can I have a little more, five six seven eight nine ten, I love you'

The bar stools were empty, and Killian slung himself onto one, the bartender nodding his head by way of a greeting.

"Rum, neat," Killian stated, pointing to his preferred vice. The bartender did not stop polishing the glass in his hand, but the bottle floated down gently, pouring itself into a tumbler before the glass set itself down in front of Killian. "Thanks, mate."

The bartender nodded again, continuing his work with the aid of his magic. People began to trickle in as the time ticked forward, a witch or two eyeing him suspiciously, vampires playing pool in the front, a group of young werewolves forcing change into the jukebox to get edgier music playing through the speaker system. The Clash crooned out words against the Fae Queen ruling over greater Eld, the pack jumping around excitedly and thrashing their heads back and forth. By this time Killian had moved to the far curve of the bar, his glass refilled to the point of the bottle sitting next to him like a patient date. There were still no other Demons in his presence. It shouldn't have surprised him, shouldn't have even made him angry with the amount of violence they were privy to, but he burned away the emotions with the alcohol flowing down his throat.

A soft touch on his shoulder caught his attention, and he turned with a growl. It died in his throat when large eyes met his, blonde curls falling in front of her eyes in loose tendrils.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she stammered, biting her lip. Pointing to a drink that was clearly not his, umbrella and all, she continued. "I was trying to reach my drink. It’s gotten crowded and I thought, I mean, I am sorry I wasn't trying to -"

"Aye." He nodded, throwing back his drink. "S'alright lass. I'm sorry, I s'pose I'm just a bit out of place here."

She smiled, blushing. "Yeah, I uh, I get that. I haven't seen you around before."

"First time here. I was in the neighborhood for business." He poured himself more, and to his surprise she pushed and elbowed her way to sit next to him.

"Business?" Her eyes were curious while her fingers toyed with the umbrella in her drink. "Should I be concerned?"

It was clearly teasing, and Killian felt himself loosening up around her. She seemed to read him well, or at least the alcohol was working. "Not any of the good kind, I'm afraid." He grinned with a wink.

"Ah, so we're just ships passing in the night?" She leaned in and he could smell the floral and herbal scent of her, her eyelashes batting coquettishly as she sipped her drink in his space.

"Passing closely, I hope," he murmured. His heart raced; it had been ages since any mortal had shown interest in him that was mutual.

His head spun as she met him drink for drink, hand unsubtly creeping higher up his hip.

"Would you be opposed to… Maybe, I don't know… getting out of here?"

"Are you saying you would fancy a nightcap, lass?" She smiled from under her lashes while biting her lip, and his heated blood grew hotter.

"Perhaps." She stood with grace as she extended a hand to him. "My place is a quick and easy teleportation spell away from here, and my bed doesn't require any sort of magic outside of what I can do with my tongue."

Killian hesitated, her golden hair in the glow of the lights making her seem to shimmer. "I don't even know your name -"

"Eloise. It's Eloise." She pulled him up, letting him stumble into her body. Her lips met his, and soon he was pulling her closer as their mouths slanted across one another's in hunger. She bit his lip and he felt the tightness that had bloomed in his belly spread fire down his spine.

"Lead the way, love," he whispered huskily, grinding into her.

She smiled broadly, the world shifting until he was in her dimly lit home. A lone window twinkled starlight, moon huge outside as it hung in the sky. Her tongue slid past his lips, the bitter herbal taste overwhelming while the world shifted again, this time pulling him apart.

In a perfect world, Emma Swan would not be doing anything remotely close to what she was currently debating doing. It truly wasn't her fault; it fell on Neal and his stupid family if anyone was to blame, and his stupid coven with their stupid leader. She should have known back then it had been a set up, should have known that Neal was a fucking liar. How many times did the same drawn out plot have to play out? Apparently, too many, considering she had still warmed his bed until a week ago.

This time it was final. Emma wouldn't accept him back when Neal slithered out from under the rock he had his affair in. She wouldn't be charmed by his smooth talking silver tongue, and if he so much as breathed near her, she would take another five years for breaking his smarmy Fae nose. Final. It had to be final.

But finality meant certain conditions had to be met, especially if she was to ward him away. For one, the beautiful loft that belonged to Neal in the Heights downtown could definitely not be her base of operations any more. Neither could the various in between places she found where Emma could grieve until he took her back, damaged goods and all. No more hotel rooms, no more abandoned apartments, no more warehouses, vacation rentals, or quiet empty offices. She had to get her own place, and it had to be able to handle her particularly finicky magic. Neal's place wasn't great for her particular practice, but the view had been killer enough to ignore it. Neal's fortune had meant she didn't need to work, and with her record (or, as his coven would sneer, 'notoriety') that was just as well.

Working added a wrinkle to her life; she would have to find somewhere that allowed her enough space for her magic to keep her employed. That would require a hefty chunk of gold - if she was lucky. The prices in the downtown area were steep, only high profile Witches, Warlocks, Fae, and Celestials could afford accommodation that close to the capitol buildings and Ley Lines. Initially when Emma had glanced through the apartment listings on the bulletin board, she had almost had a panic attack at the amount of gold they demanded.

Her brother David, blessings be, had been her knight in shining armor. There was a large Victorian home that lay in shambles at the edge of their farm lands, its beautiful scalloped details in need of paint, and the gutters growing weeds as thick as her forearm. But, it was within her budget if she could get the down payment placed before the scheduled demolition. She put what she had down to stall as much as she could, but it was not enough in the least.

One big job was all she needed. One big job that she could cash out on. A dip of her toes back into the waters of peddling illegal magic, just quickly in and out without a splash.

She didn't need any more jail time, that was for certain.

Putting out the word she was available in the whisper market was always dangerous, but listening in was free and without a snag if you were smart.

Emma heard tell of a desperate woman willing to give a truckload full of gold to the right Witch who could perform delicate, esoteric, deeply Arcane and forbidden magics. Luckily for both of them, that's what Emma excelled at.

She had always been good at her craft, and her magical workings were beyond powerful. She could do things that other practitioners only dared to dream of, if they could even conceive it. It was why Neal had kept her around, and why his coven's dislike would melt away if she said she would consider joining.

(If she did that around Yulesmas for better gifts, was it really so bad?)

The request itself was intriguing, the woman herself a Witch that could not do the spell alone. She wanted an equivalent exchange of unbreakable magical bonds, which while tricky, was not forbidden in most circumstances. The offer was too good to pass up on, but Emma didn't like leaving things to complete chance.

Cue her sister-in-law, Snow. If anyone could throw runes, read the winds, divine from the mundane, and not keep any of it a fucking secret, it was Snow.

Emma knocked on their cheery red door in the early morning, which must have been a surprise to Snow considering she was half dressed in business wear. She pulled up her stockings in a one footed hop, motioning for Emma to come in as she balanced the phone receiver against her neck. The coiled cord spun around her, and she groaned loudly.

"Yes, Regina, I know. I'll be there, I'm literally - it's 2 hours away. I will be there in thirty minutes at latest, but - Well, yes, Emma just walked in." Snow gestured at a chair, and Emma sat, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I know it's early for her. I know. Uh huh. Yes. We will definitely put her on the table; it's absurd not to, considering - yes, I would love to talk to you about this in person as I've said - alright. Yes. Okay then, buh-bye."

Sighing, Snow twirled, untwisting herself from the phone cord. She smoothed down her pencil skirt and blouse before looking straight at Emma with a curious stare. Her mouth twitched with annoyance as she spoke.

"Now. To what do I owe the pleasure? I have a meeting with Celestials shortly, so." She waved a hand indicating the clock in the background. Turning to the counter, she opened up a cookie jar and removed a rolled cannabis cigarette, putting it between her lips and lighting it.

Emma swallowed, watching the petite woman slide the purple lighter back in its space on their counter. "I just need you to divine something for me. A situation, with a woman who wants me to… to uh, do something."

Snow rolled her eyes, narrowing them to glare at Emma. "We are bringing you up as collateral in our meeting today, trying to get you a seat where you belong - on the council," Snow hissed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a breath.

"Please?" Emma asked innocently, batting her eyelashes for good measure.

Snow sighed. "Alright. Picture the situation and the woman."

Emma focused on the description, the spellwork requested, the woman's pleas. She could feel Snow's magic engulf her, and the fuzziness that came with it as she wove threads out into the natural universe, time and space sending her back answers.

A moment passed, and the feeling abruptly stopped as Snow shook her head.

"This doesn't feel right," Snow said, taking a drag of her blunt. She exhaled, the thick smoke swirling into the shape of birds that dove through the air. Emma coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "That woman… I don't know. She feels off."

Emma frowned, petulant that the answer was negative. "She's a Witch, and in trouble."

"Have you rolled your runes?" Snow began to pull on her loafers, gathering her things.

Emma chewed her lip. She had divined, or tried to, but had not found a concrete result. "Yeah, and they said it's… Questionable, but the end result leaves all parties happy. Tarot said basically the same thing."

Snow let out a little twittering laugh, pulling her purse up on her shoulder. "And how does Neal feel about it?"

"Neal doesn't need to feel any way about it. I… We… I broke it off." Emma looked at her shoes, then idly inspected the counters formica. "Forever this time."

"Oh. Is that why you're here so early?" Snow's eyes went wide, a hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Emma, honey. I'm so sorry, I've just been under so much stress with Regina and this council. Wait, where are you staying? Oh no - are you homeless!? You mean it, you're never going back to that creep?"

"Never," Emma said firmly, even as her voice caught. "I'll find a place though, Snow. Don't worry."

"So you are homeless, oh Emma, if I wasn't late - no. No. You know, I'll call Regina and cancel it, you need me more than -"

"No, well, I mean -" Emma shook her head. "No. I'll stay here tonight if I have to, but you need to get to your meeting. I don't need Regina's wrath on top of everything else."

"You know you can stay here with us as long as you need, oh, Emma, I wish you had told me -"

"I don't want to stay here. I can't work here, and I love you guys but you both are gross with your lovey dovey hippie -"

"I get it, I get it." Snow grimaced.

"So yeah, I need the money. I can't stay here, I need my own place… I put a tiny deposit on that Victorian down the road, but I need the full down payment to keep it." Emma shrugged.

"The house at the --- Emma, that place is a breeze away from being condemned!"

"No it's not," Emma groaned, rubbing her temple. "It's got good bones, and character. It just needs some… help."

"Well. I mean…" Snow hesitated, heading towards the door, as Emma followed. "Alright then. I'm just warning you, I get a terrible vibe from that woman and I could cancel this today, we could work out a plan. We have the money from the harvest. You could work for us or with David and help us with the roll outs in exchange for a loan. I'm organized, but the help would be appreciated if you're living so close… especially since I'm making sure that house is safely remodeled for you. I don't want you to end up with the roof falling on you or some gas line exploding."

"You worry way too much, Snow."

"I hear the future through nature, and it's generally terrifying. Nature is terrifying. Excuse me for being cautious, and wanting to help you out."

Emma laughed as they walked out the door together, Snow rummaging in her bag for lipstick which she quickly applied. "Yeah well, you're also smoking weed so potent it could put an elephant to sleep. I don't want a loan from you."

"I'm not an elephant, Em. I'm an Elf. It'll take more than this to knock me on my ass." She smiled, extending a hand to squeeze Emma's shoulder. "Be careful, okay? No repeats."

"That wasn't -" Emma protested, but Snow cut her off with a sharp look. "Yeah, alright.

"Good. I'll see you tonight, you're coming for dinner. No buts." Snow grinned, before disappearing with a puff of periwinkle smoke.

Emma groaned, kicking dirt as she stalked away towards her new potential home.

In the final days before moving from the small basement apartment Emma rented, the dingy, unused, bare studio finally found some decoration in chalk outlines, herbs, and a large bubbling cauldron. It hadn't ever been a home or remotely close to one when Neal presented a better option, the bed untouched and unmade. It reminded Emma more of her prison cell than anything else, which offered a strange duality of comfort mixed with dread. It was fitting that she would meet to do this ritual here.

Gothel arrived promptly for their 10 am arranged meeting in a well worn taupe cloak. She looked as desperate as the correspondences between them indicated, but Emma resolved to get this over with as quickly as possible. They shared a nod in the form of hellos, then Emma pointed to the cauldron.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Emma asked, and Gothel drew back her cloak to reveal her tired and gaunt looking face.

"Yes. Let's. Your payment, with more upon completion." Gothel dropped a large purse on the counter, Emma immediately grabbing it and checking the contents. It was real, her heart soaring as she shoved it in her bag.

"So, you are to give me a token of your will, usually blood, an animal you raised, or something that's valuable to you . Something you care about, that you are tied to that a severing will make you -"

"I give you the life of my first child," Gothel interrupted.

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh." Biting her lip, she brushed back her braid. "That's… That's super Illegal. I…"

"You wanted something heavy, you got it. There's a reason why I came to you; you have a reputation for doing things quietly. The reason you chose me is because you need the coin. Now, my terms. I know you provide healing. I want to keep myself young and strong - youthful immortality. Grant me this." The grin on her face unsettled Emma, Snow's warning in her mind. Nevertheless, the satchel of gold meant a secured home.

"Um. Alright. Are you sure, the life of your firstborn? That's a ways off, and the strength won't happen until -"

"Do it. Do it now, I know the spell will be enacted when payment is due. I'm well studied - Breaking a bond with a child, specifically your first, will grant me the power I need. I know that I can't do this spell myself either, so here I am."

Emma gulped. "Okay. Let me get the texts."

Emma returned with her copper cauldron, pile of books, and spell components. Gothel's grin grew wider, her eyes gleaming at the sight of the tongues, eyes, crushed butterflies, and other more macabre ingredients the spell required.

Feeling a low tug in her gut that something was wrong, Emma backed away from the altar. The other Witch seemed to shimmer, slightly in alarm, a glamor of some sort possibly covering her skin. Feeling even more unsettled, Emma shook her head.

"I can't do this, listen -"

"Please. Please you must, I need this to escape a curse. It's blood magic, almost unbreakable and impossible to escape on my own. Please." Emma heard no lies in her speech. "I admit that I have not been entirely truthful. While I was able to send you the gold easily, I am trapped, held against my will. I can only project myself to you. I was afraid to tell you, because I am desperate to rid myself of this curse." When no lies continued to register, Emma felt a deep sense of pity for the other witch. A blood magic binding was no joke; someone truly must have hated the poor woman.

"Fine," Emma said, throwing her hands up. Gothel perked up slightly, hope in her eyes. Throwing the ingredients in the cauldron, a shimmering mist roiled over the edge as she spoke ancient words and stirred in the shape of long unused runes. Adding bones that melted in soapy bubbles and stirring with a long Pegasus feather that gradually turned to ash, she looked up at Gothel, who was wringing her hands anxiously.

"Your tokens?" Emma asked.

Gothel waved a hand over the stained cloth; several of the woman's teeth, a long braid of her hair, and a large chunk of skin fell into the cauldron. The cauldron's contents began to boil, smoke curling in darkened serpentine tangles.

Emma began the words, Latin, Arameric, the old tongue of the Pagans, Celtic, remnants of Gaul, flowing them together until speaking plainly to her own magic.

"Blood of one that is two, child, mother,

Blood of my own, tear them asunder,

Thicker than wine, thicker than water,

Ties that bind, bound to another,

The womb that grows life,

Kin cared for in kind,

A payment for power,

Remake the ties, lift, and unbind."

Scraping her hand against a dagger, Emma let her blood drop slowly into the brew, the words flowing out in the crimson rivulets. As she pulled away the wound closed from her own healing energy.

"Cradle of moon within flesh,

Remake that which is to be made,

Your reflection removed,

Mine in its stead.

Your burden is mine,

Carried and held as your first,

Blood of the two, child, mother,

As they are born, you are cursed."

She looked at Gothel, who was still wringing her hands, long nails cutting into her palms. This magic was hopefully worth the price the woman had so freely paid. Breaking an infant and mother's bond to give to another was a great sacrifice, the magic comparable to true love, if not greater. The power the Witch would receive would hopefully free her from the curse, but also give her the strength she desired.

"It's done. You must cast your brand over the cauldron, and when you, you know," Emma turned around, holding herself tightly. Caught up in the thought of what she, Emma Swan, would even do with a child, she was unaware of the other Witch behind her scrambling to the cauldron or her deep disregard for anything she was saying. "Get pregnant, let me know. I'll handle that - Wait, what are you -"

Gothel chuckled lowly, her brand in its arcane circle around the cauldron, neon lines of electricity like power that sparked and crackled. Emma felt her hair stand on end, small pebbles lifting off the stone floor as the cauldron shook. Smoke rose in heavy plumes, purple and a noxious mauve that made the air feel sticky, her lungs not able to fill all the way. Gothel's chuckle had turned into a wild cackle, her braided and matted hair like vines or a visage of Medusa.

Gothel's voice was crazed, shrill as she pointed a gnarled finger at Emma. "This is it. This is it! I've done it, I'm free! Oh, you silly, stupid girl. Now nothing will ever stop me again!"

Her laugh grew into a shriek of triumph as magic swirled around them, Emma watching as the woman in front of her disappeared. Gaping at what happened, Emma checked herself for any signs of curses or hexes, unsure of what had just taken place.

To her surprise, no sign of magic lay on her that she could see. She wasn't cursed, the room wasn't jinxed, and the second payment… Emma quickly checked her purse, finding the large satchel of gold easily. The second sat where Gothel had discarded it without looking twice, and she picked it up hesitantly. It was heavy in her hands as she checked it again and again, realizing that for once in her life, everything was going right.

Three hours later, she owned the Victorian home down the road from her brother's farm, the first home she had ever truly called hers.

Living near her brother's home had its perks, and disadvantages, as Snow had hinted. For one, Snow was cooking for her every day, and Emma was positive she was going to gain several dress sizes if she didn't stop gorging on various pasta dishes while pouring her magic into restoring the wooden floor.

A major downside was having her brother constantly fixing her house without her being aware. She'd been woken by him cleaning the gutters, fixing her porch, and of all things, roofing. It had only been a few days, but between his insistence on the outside being presentable and her own work inside, the house was coming along faster than she ever dreamed. It was frightening, and David kept her on edge with his very obvious attempts at snooping around.

"So, you're done with Neal for good," he said, startling her as she sat out on a newly hung porch swing. She wrinkled her nose at him in protest, and he grinned. "And… You're making doors again."

She froze, panic gripping her.

"It's alright, I'm not mad. I'm just - just be careful. I trust you, but I know that before -"

"I made a mistake. I know it, you know it, the Coven knows it, and so does everyone else in the Heights that saw me fall from grace." Emma curled her arms around her knees, bitterly forcing out words. "I won't make the same mistake again. I am on the straight and narrow; these doors are for commuting and hunting skips only."

David laughed, poking her in the side. "Back to hunting skips, huh? Damn. Don't you ever settle down and enjoy the simple life?"

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "What the hell is the simple life? Nothing is simple."

"Well, yeah, but… I mean the simple life." He brushed a hand through his hair, looking at her with a gentleness that she instantly felt uneasy with. "House, a pet maybe, hobbies, a partner, kids -"

"If you are trying to set me up again -"

"Not me," David raised his hands defensively. "No, I was just -"

"I don't deserve that life," Emma stated, shrugging. The sun was sinking lower, crickets singing in the cool air. "That life isn't for me. That life is for people like you and Snow, people that are worth something."

"Oh, Emma. You know that's not -"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Emma snapped, standing with a start. David looked at her with a hurt expression, and she felt pure rage. "Goodnight."

She stepped back into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

"Emma, come on," David called from the porch, but Emma wasn't listening to him as she fought the immediate urge to be ill. The sudden nausea ripped through her, and despite her attempts, vomit burst from her throat.

She panted, holding on to the wall with one hand. The other hand gripped her side, fierce cramping making her double over in a scream of agony. She lurched forward, unable to breathe as pressure rose in her stomach. To her terror, her skin grew taut and she seemed to bloat, the pain of it ripping through her.

David splintered the door, his arms around her as she lost consciousness.

She woke in an ambulance, David holding her hand like he'd done when they were children. He was always the best big brother she could have asked for, always protective of her, and always pushing her to be better. He had convinced her to trust Ruth, convinced her to take a chance with the older woman who was willing to adopt both of them, and they had found another home together. When she was scared or sick, he was right there to hold her hand. Even now as pain ripped through her, he was there. She tried to understand, but her body burned until the flame became too much to bear.

She woke again to the beeping of machines and David's yelling, her body aching but no longer in the same searing pain. Lifting herself up to try and hear what David was saying, she struggled to make out more than just fragments.

"I'm not leaving, that's my sister ---- How did -- she wasn't, she --- I don't know, she never said anything ----- A WHAT? No! I'm --- not leaving!"

Emma's stomach lurched, and she shifted to get out of bed. The sheets slid from her middle, and she gasped. Her middle was rounded, as if she was pregnant. But that was impossible, that was absolutely and completely impossible.

A knock sounded, a petite woman entering.

"I'm Doctor Mullins, Emma. I know that this may take some time to fully process, but… you're pregnant."

Emma hissed out a breath into a hysterical laugh. "What? No. No. This is not how babies work, or pregnancy, or even - I haven't even had sex since - "

"I know, and I understand that you must be frightened." The doctor attempted to console her, but Emma could not stop her rising panic. She touched the rounded skin of her stomach, the firm smoothness lined with stretch marks. Letting out a low wail, the doctor tried to speak over her still. "It's some ancient and dark magic, but it's very real. We have an inspector on the way to take your statement, and we performed a few tests -"

"No. No, this is a bad dream, this isn't real, this isn't happening to me!" Emma closed her eyes, trying to focus.

" - most concerning of which is the results on paternity, which indicate that the father has non-human presenting DNA. Normally that's not terribly unusual, but this is clearly not a planned pregnancy considering your… your conception being, well, this, and the genomic markers show that the parentage is half Celestial. I need to ask, have you had any relationships with an Angel?"

Emma shook her head, trying to understand what the doctor was asking.

"Alright, what about anyone with proximity to dark, Arcane, or Demonic magics? Anyone who associates with Demons? Do you associate with them?" The doctor eyed her curiously, and Emma shook her head again.

"I don't know any Demons, Angels, or Celestials." Emma bit her lip, frustrated at the question. Rolling it between her teeth, she murmured a thought out loud. "I did recently perform a ritual that was older. It didn't call for this though, I don't know anything about this…"

"Well, it doesn't just happen." Emma looked at the doctor with enough venom in her stare to curdle milk. The doctor laughed nervously. "I mean, it did but -"

"This cannot be happening," Emma moaned, throwing her head back against the hospital bed's pillow. "This has to be a bad dream."

"I'm afraid it is all very real. Considering the circumstances, an inspector of magical law will be assigned to question you regarding the situation. Because of the issues of legality, you may not leave or have visitors until then." The doctor stood, brushing her hands on her slacks. "Baby looks healthy despite wanting to grow at an accelerated rate, and we have slowed that as much as we can. Welcome to motherhood Miss Swan, and, er… Congratulations." Giving a last placid smile, she left the room, leaving Emma alone.

Emma sat stunned, unable to do anything but focus on her steady breathing.

(Fuck)

The single word came to mind again and again, escaping from her lips as her breath finally began to turn into sobs.

"Fuck."

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misc-headcanons · 4 years ago

Text

Lucci/F!Reader: In the Dark

(Commissioned by @junebloom21)

Word count: 1964

When they first got together, Lucci told ____ that being with him wouldn't end well. He was constantly on the move for his job that he refused to ever share any details of, out of a sense of "protecting" her. He wasn't used to trusting anyone, not completely anyway. He's been called remorseless, heartless, a cold-blooded monster--and he'd admit that those could all easily describe him. Loving someone like that isn't easy, and the last thing he wants to do is ruin ____'s life because she was kind and foolish enough to fall in love with him.

And yet, when he'd told her this, all she did was kiss his cheek and say that she didn't care what kind of misery came about from being together; she'd rather live a hard life with Lucci than an easy one without him. It wasn't the first time he'd heard a partner of his say that after he gave them this "full disclosure" speech, and he'd felt a pang of worry in his heart that ____ would come to regret her desire to stay with him. Still, she said yes, and a stupidly optimistic part of him couldn't help but believe the earnestness and warmth and love in her voice.

But months after that conversation, he could tell that things were becoming strained. He had been called on a covert mission to carry out just before the Reverie, and he wouldn't be able to see ____ for at least two months. Something had happened in Big Mom's territory, and the intelligence gathered there led Lucci's superiors to believe that they'd need to increase surveillance in Wano and Tottland; infiltrating the territory of two Yonko was definitely going to be a long and difficult affair for the agents of Cipher Pol. As a high-ranking member and one of their best spies, Lucci had been called on to leave as soon as possible. Normally he'd have had enough time to soften the blow of his absence to ____ by taking her out on a nice date, treating her to a perfect evening a few days before he had to ship out. Tonight was no different, but _____ was acting a bit strange.

Lucci had made reservations at ____'s favorite restaurant, and he'd even gone out to buy a few things he'd noticed her eyeing when they'd gone window-shopping in town a few weeks prior. When ____ stepped out of her bedroom in an elegant (and expensive) outfit, Lucci smiled warmly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear before kissing her cheek. "You look beautiful," he murmured. "As always."

____ smiled back, though Lucci noticed there was a tightness and tension to her expression. "And you're just as handsome as ever," she replied playfully, eyeing Lucci and his animal companion who was almost always on his shoulder. "Both of you, hehe." She brushed Hattori's chin and the white bird cooed as he rubbed his cheek against her fingers.

Lucci's eyes narrowed a bit when he saw her expression change for just an instant, and her face fell for a moment as she looked at Hattori. Something was bothering her and he wanted to know what that was. He draped his arms around her back and held her close, pulling her in for an embrace. "Are you alright?" He felt her bristle a bit in his arms. "It seems like something's on your mind."

____ was quiet for a fraction of a second too long. "Oh, it's...nothing," she said hastily, hugging him back and resting her head on his free shoulder.

Lucci frowned. "If it's bothering you," he replied firmly, "Then it isn't 'nothing.'" He pulled away to look her in the eyes. "You can tell me anything," he assured. "You know that, don't you?"

____ stared back up at him, and the only sounds in the room were the ambient noise of the breeze blowing through an opened window nearby as a pair of silk curtains gently flapped and swayed. Her smile was gone, and Lucci saw that she was biting a small portion of the inside of her mouth. Her body was much more tense than it had been before. "I…" Her voice wobbled slightly, and that waver in her words was enough to send her over the edge of composure; tears welled up in her eyes, causing her mascara to begin to run as she sniffled and lowered her head.

Lucci's eyes widened a bit and he blinked in surprise as he watched her begin to cry. "I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I wanted to be happy tonight and make our last date for a while go well, but...I'm sorry, I can't. I can't pretend I'm happy."

Lucci held her and rubbed circles into her hip and upper back with his thumbs. "Don't apologize," he insisted. "Just tell me why you feel this way."

____ looked up at him and took a shaky breath. "You're leaving again," she said bluntly. "And you won't be back for at least two or three months--again. And THIS time, you didn't even tell me where you're going!" She wiped away a few tears and glared at Lucci. "I can't call you, I can't send you any letters...Are you just expecting me to wait here for months, not knowing where you are, what you're doing, whether you're alive or dead or injured or…" She let out a soft sob and shook her head. "I can't, not without losing my mind this time."

Lucci's heart sank as he heard her. He knew that his long and frequent absence was hard on her, but he couldn't do anything about it. "You know I can't contact you for your own safety," he reminded her, trying not to sound annoyed or angry--although, a small part of him couldn't help but remember her saying she wanted this relationship with him despite the hardships there would be. "If you knew where I was and someone found out, you could be targeted. And if I gave you any information about my assignment, it could--"

"I know," ____ snapped, turning away from Lucci and crossing her arms. "It could jeopardize your mission and your safety. I've heard that a million times." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "I'm not asking you to tell me everything, Rob. Just something. Anything, so I'm not completely in the dark when you come back home months from now at 3 AM, covered in random cuts and bruises, and you act like I'm supposed to just not say anything about it."

____ turned around and took Lucci's hand, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Look, can you please just tell me what's going on?" Before Lucci could open his mouth, she hastily cut him off. "I'm not asking you to tell me everything. But there has to be more you can tell me about...I don't know, just something more than 'I'm leaving next week and won't be back for at least two months.' And I know, I know I told you I was okay with our relationship being…'complicated' because of your work." She squeezed his hand. "But I don't think I'm strong enough, not without something changing."

Lucci silently squeezed her hand back, and let her continue. "Do you know what it's like here when you're gone?" She bit her lip. "I wonder if you're going to come back. I look out the window--" She walked over to the slightly open window and pulled away the curtains to reveal the beautiful city view and coastline. "And I wonder if you're on one of those ships at the docks in a coffin or an urn. I have nightmares all the time, where you're bleeding to death or you're dead in the middle of nowhere. And I think, maybe I'll never know if you die out there." She let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "Maybe the World Government won't let me know you're gone, just so your mission doesn't get compromised. I'll just spend the rest of my life wondering what happened."

Lucci stepped behind her and put her arms around her again. She covered her mouth and started to cry again, staring out at the coastline while he held her. "Please, there has to be something you can tell me," she sniffled. "I won't ever feel okay until you're back through that door, but I need something to just…" She shrugged. "To hold onto, I guess." She turned around and pulled him into a tight hug. "You told me once that you've been an agent since you were a kid, right?"

Lucci nodded. "It's all I've ever done," he replied quietly.

"So...you've never had someone worry about you before," she replied questioningly. "Not just as an asset or something, but worried about you."

"Aside from my associates, no," he replied. Calling them "associates" somehow seemed too formal; Khalifa, Kaku...they were all more like his siblings after everything they'd gone through together.

____ cling to him a bit tighter. "Well, now you have someone else worried about you," she said, her voice thick and worn from her bout of crying. "I love you, Rob. I'm never going to be okay when you're gone for so long, but if I don't know anything about it...it just makes it even worse."

Lucci froze up at her words. He'd had some partners that lasted longer than any one-night stand or passing fling, but he'd never took their "I love you"s that seriously. They never lasted long anyways, and they'd usually end things even after they said they could handle the distance involved with being with Lucci. His memories of them leaving didn't hurt that much, but the thought of ____ like that...It hurt him, in a way he wasn't used to feeling. He really did love her, against his years of training and his better judgment.

Lucci was quiet for a long time, and the two of them held each other in silence. His heartbeat sped up in his chest as he tried to find something, anything he could say to give her more information without compromising himself. "...Hypothetically." he said slowly. ____ looked up at him in confusion. "An agent, not specifically me, could find a way to write to their loved one. She would need to learn how to read a certain type of code to read short messages sent to her disguised as inconspicuous scraps of paper--receipts, bills, etcetera." He gripped her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. "And she would need to burn them immediately after reading them," he said pointedly. "Do you think she could learn that code in a week before her significant other leaves?"

____ smiled and nodded eagerly. "Even if she's not a very good student," she replied playfully, "She might do whatever it took to know whether or not he was okay out there." She let out a small chuckle. "Maybe after she fixed her ruined mascara and made herself look like less of a mess, they could enjoy their date night and then spend some time cuddling and learning this new code."

Lucci smirked and brushed the pad of his thumb over ____'s cheek and lips. "He might be a harsh and strict teacher," he warned jokingly. "Do you think she'd be able to handle his lessons?"

____'s smile widened. "Depends," she replied. "Is he going to discipline her by spanking her with a ruler or something?"

Lucci chuckled and held her close, enjoying the rumble in her chest as she giggled while he nuzzled her neck. She could fix her makeup if she wanted before they left, but right now, he just wanted to enjoy having her in his arms and in his life.

#one piece #one piece scenario #lucci #rob lucci #female s/o #one piece scenarios #commission #mine #Lucci's one of the more difficult ppl I write for bc I'm always worried he's too ooc lol

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