#he never thinks about the quality of the life he's extending because in his head he's under constant attack

[tibtew]

saeru is so funny to me because like. he Could technically attempt to actually Live as he seemingly wants to do, but instead he chooses to subject himself and everybody else to despair because "Mom Ignored Me That One Time 😢😢"

[ribbonskiss]

THE LEANOVER → OP81

Part 2 of 2. Read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.

Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn, SMUT (18+), masturbation, Jack Doohan is from Melbourne in this one for logistical reasons, not proofread at all hah

A/N: finally!!! The end of The Leanover!!!! Sorry for the extended deadline, this one turned out chunkier than I expected and honestly I don’t know if I’m quite satisfied with it but it is what it is. Anyway, enjoy!

Oscar is a handsome boy. This is a fact you find to be so uncontroversial it may as well be accepted as a universal truth. There has never been a time where girls did not whisper amongst themselves when he would enter a room, where the mothers of his friends would not rave with great emphasis to his about how strong and handsome he’d become, where his presence at a function did not brighten up the place, because not only is he handsome, he is beautiful. Beautiful people are magnetic, you think; their beauty lies in their nature, their fundamental quality of supernatural grace, a gift bestowed by the forces that be towards the lucky few.

You recall his last year of high school. You were sixteen, still growing into your body and learning how to use a felt-tip eyeliner pen. Teenagers are fascistic about social hierarchy; they are greatly cognisant of their standings in the high school pecking order, intensely anal about preserving the rigidity of the structure, and thus you had long accepted your status as the forgotten sibling. Oscar and your brother were athletes, students with clout attached to their names; you were awkward, unaware of your own intensity, intimidating to a fault, but more than happy to lay low. Two individuals of such different standings in the social order should never interact—but for the first (and only) time you were now going to the same house parties and birthday bashes, and here was the greatest display of Oscar’s beauty. You can never forget that image: the figure of him standing on the other side of the room, so broad-shouldered and trim, freckles of sun damage littered over his skin all the way down his neck like constellations, his head turned away from you to reveal his chiselled jaw as he speaks to someone while holding a can of Reschs. And suddenly his eyes would meet yours, catching you in the act, and he’d give you a gentle smile.

You were always so grateful for this. So grateful he would look your way and beam so brightly, a glimpse of his inner calmness, his quiet gentle bliss. You were never under the impression you were the only one to be so blessed by his grace; you were just happy to be around him. Sometimes when he would come over, sprawl himself over your couch or lay on the floor, pissing himself laughing at your brother’s antics into the late hours of the night, you’d ask yourself whether you should feel guilty for being the only witness to this part of his life. This secret of his: that Oscar is so much more beautiful than most people will ever know. Not his fans, not his colleagues, not the majority of the world. This is between you and him.

And now you have him all to yourself. A bit greedy, isn’t it? The past week you’ve spent together has been nothing short of lovely. You find out that he’s strangely disciplined. Oscar’s a dutiful housemate, doing the chores you even forget about without the need to be prompted, unlike most guys his age. He likes to hum to himself when he’s got the vacuum going and he thinks you can’t hear him butcher the tune of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel. He’s a good cook who prefers careful measurement over eyeballing. He doesn’t read books like you do, but he’s happy to lie on the couch all day and watch a show with you on the telly. And he’s surprisingly touchy—he seems most pleased when you’re both on the couch, your legs crossed and stretched out, resting on top of his, his hand on your foot, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You don’t speak during these moments. Nothing needs to be said; things just sort themselves out.

At some point in the afternoon you get tired, yawning to yourself, and without even needing to look at you Oscar reaches over, tugs at your arm to tell you wordlessly to turn around. You oblige; your head against his chest, his fingers trail up your forearm to your shoulders and, eventually, the back of your neck, smoothing over the soft, fine hairs that reside there. You’re too tired to mind the goosebumps the feeling of his fingertips on your skin gives you, or the increasing thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat underneath you. You shift in his arms, folding your legs up in a way that makes the hem of your shorts ride up, exposing the curve of your thighs all the way up towards the swell of your—well… It would be so uncouth for him to look there.

It never occurs to either of you that the hardest part of the process is done. The feeling returns: the feeling that arises in you when he looked at you from across the room at those parties all those years ago. The feeling of knowing that person so incredibly well. Of sharing a secret together, and letting that secret grow bigger and bigger until it takes on a life of its own. Of sharing that life together. These things do just sort themselves out, but you would never know until you speak of it.

You are growing increasingly needy. There’s no other way to put it. You’re fucking dying. The heat of the dry, punishing Australian summer is starting to get to you, even with how skimpy your attire has gotten, and having him around twenty-four seven is starting to feel more like divine punishment than intervention. You were wrong all along: Oscar is not an angel, but a demon sent to terrorise you all your life until you give in and the Devil can steal your soul for all of eternity.

He works out every other day. That’s at least three days where he’ll disappear into another room in the afternoon for hours, slips right out just to slip into the bathroom, and then waltz back into the living room as if nothing has happened. But something has happened.

Oscar has a very basic wardrobe at home. He likes his soft, mild colours—dark greys and soft whites, beige tones, navy and olives… It’s very on brand for him, yes. And here he is again, today, emerging from the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him out the door as he runs a hand through his slightly damp hair. He’s wearing a crisp heather grey t-shirt, fresh from the pile of laundry you’d folded yesterday. The sleeves can barely withstand the size of his biceps; he’s just gotten new dumbbells in. And god, the smell of his skin, the musk of him mixed with the soft clean scent of soap still radiating off of him. It’s like crisp hot white bedsheets, fresh out the dryer, already crumpling under the weight of two lovers, bodies sticky from tangling into each other; like soft detergent left out in the garden, where the grass is freshly cut, and the warm sun hits your skin.

This is as close to a primal urge as it will ever get for you. The first few times you could just tell yourself to look away, but now the smell of him is unavoidable, overwhelms your senses, and lights your entire body on fire. You stick your nose into your book the entire time and pray he goes away. Oscar retreats into the kitchen and wonders if your book is really so good that you’d be that engrossed by it. He’ll have to start reading again soon.

“The worst thing a woman can do,” you say, hand in the air with great feeling, “is be cut down in her prime by a man.”

Three beers in and you’re starting up your great tirade already. Oscar watches with an amused smile as he sits on the grass, green Peroni bottle in hand. “I know it sounds so pathetic and untrue, but it is true,” you continue, pacing back and forth with a giggle. “It’s true! I’m so much better off now. No offence, Osc, you’re one of the good ones.”

“I’m very flattered.”

“You should be,” you nod.

He reaches over and grabs a fresh beer from the esky, flicks the cap off with the belt he’s taken off, and hands it to you. You thank him; “just trying to stay in your good graces, missy,” he chuckles.

You sigh, taking a swig of it as you look up to the sky. “Frankly, I’m glad that part of my life is over already,” you say. “I’m not happy to admit it, but for a long time, I had just thought of myself as undesirable. Invisible.”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows with great concern, an ocean tide of emotion threatening to wash over him. “Impossible.”

“Possible,” you nod, with a bitter smile that’s less regretful than accepting of your past. “You know. Surely you remember.”

Of course he does. He remembers every little thing, because they’re not little to him. He remembers it all, how he’d scare off sleazy, drunken boys from approaching you at parties. Even after he graduated, the threat remained: you mess with her, you mess with Oscar Piastri, the F1 big shot. Boys never looked your way because of that; he used to hold you by the end of the party, sitting on the porch of whatever house you’re at, you latching onto him in your drunken half-slumber, both of you silently wallowing in your desires. Drowning, suffocating in each other’s warmth. Then he’d stay over at your house and wait until your brother fell asleep to press his ear against the wall, listening to your muffled sobbing. You were always too eager to suffer alone, to make a martyr of yourself and accept the cards you had been dealt.

But you stand tall now, a soft smile on your face suggesting a great deal of growth. It’s what he’s always found so beautiful in you. Beauty, he thinks, lies in the spirit, an ability to have infinite love and bliss in the face of the frustrations of one’s life. You are a complete soul, whole in ways he may never be, capable of learning to love over and over again and of light-heartedness in the face of turmoil. He knows he cannot truly achieve this because you are his Achilles’ heal. He cannot bear to think of you off on your own without him, doing things with other slimy ratty boys, going places he may never know of. Having a life without him in it. Oscar frowns; had he been too selfish in denying you all your opportunities? You had graduated high school without losing your virginity, without ever being in a relationship, and he wasn’t sure your first kiss would even count as a kiss. He can’t imagine how much that must’ve crushed you—and he was away, far away on his stupid little racing circuits instead of being at home, comforting you, as he should’ve been.

You wave it all off, as if you could hear his thoughts. “Well, I’ve done all of it now anyway, and I’m happy to report that it’s not for me.”

He cocks up an eyebrow. “And what exactly is ‘it,’ Tiny?”

“The hookup thing,” you shrug.

Oscar’s chest feels like it could explode; cold flashes wash all over him. “Oh?”

You playfully shush him. “Don’t tell my family, okay?” you chuckle. “But, yes. I tried it. It was good, until it wasn’t. Very quickly I realised I’m kinda, like, spiritually forty. I need to stretch in the mornings and tuck in by eleven.”

“And kick-ons aren’t until at least one,” he tuts. “You’re always been a sleepy girl.”

“That is true,” you nod, taking another sip of your Peroni. “Anyway, it was worth it, at the very least just to get it all out of my system. I’m very comfortably single now.”

The sky is darker than it should be. The sun has already tucked itself away, and it’s not even evening time yet. “You know, it’s so cliché,” you continue. “That Sally Rooney quote, it’s just like that. I went to uni and got pretty. And all of a sudden men saw me—I mean, I was pretty much invisible before. Before in school, when you and my brother were still around, guys used to do this stupid, horrible thing where they wouldn’t speak to me, they’d just speak to you instead. Even when the topic was about me. Well, no one knows I grew up with Oscar Piastri when I’m at ANU. I’m just me, and I’ve got a nice haircut and a decent rack of tits. And they see me, they see me now and I realise now that they’re all just sort of stupid. I’m very sorry, Oscar, but boys are stupid.”

“No need to apologise,” he snickers softly. It makes you smile a little wider. “But surely they were not all so bad?”

“No, I really don’t know how to pick ‘em. They really were all that bad,” you chuckle, eyes creasing as your cheeks push up in laughter. “Think the best one might’ve been the guy I lost my virginity to.”

Oscar’s eyes widen. He hums, pretends to be normal about it. “Tell me more,” he says.

You nod and oblige. “It was early in the school year. I went on four dates with him,” you start. “He seemed right on paper. Double major, worked for a diplomat, spoke two languages and was well-travelled. Maybe a bit pedestrian in his taste in music and films, but it didn’t bother me so much. We talked okay. He knew what to do, how to be courteous, held doors open and shit—I didn’t know what the whole dating thing was meant to be like, and I was easily impressed. He took me back to his after the fourth date and we listened to his vinyls: corny 70s Greatest Hit compilations and his favourite Kanye albums.”

You take a break, pulling out a thing of lip balm and unscrewing the cap before squeezing it out. “He told me he used to take ballroom lessons for some weird high school thing he did, and he twirled me in his arms, and it made me feel so light and small and girlish that I felt like I was floating.” Your finger spreads the balm over your lips, the feeling cool and tingly on your skin. “He told me I was funny. He kissed me, and his stubble was so sharp and gritty against my skin that it gave me traction acne the day after. He held my hand the whole time. He was an awful kisser. Just kept jamming his tongue in. But it was sweet enough. No one’s first time is good, anyway.”

Oscar tries to swallows down the lump stuck in his throat. His fingers and toes are tingling, chest tight and contracting still. You take another swig. “I’ve had too many of these,” you say.

“You’ve had three, Tiny.”

“That’s more than enough for me,” you shrug, yawning as you set the bottle down on the wooden table outside in your garden. “I think I’d better fuck off to bed now. Sleep tight, Osc.”

He doesn’t sleep in your brother’s bed that night. No, he takes out the spare mattress again and drapes the spare velvet blanket over himself, because he could never forgive himself if he jerked off in his best friend’s bed to the thought of his best friend’s sister. No, there would be no good excuse for that, but tonight is one of those nights where a man simply cannot hold himself back anymore. The alcohol is still burning in his stomach; when Oscar shuts his eyes, all he can see is these elaborate images crafted by his mind’s eye of you, placed in all the scenarios you’d described to him, only replacing that dirty fucker was him, being so gentle and delicate and loving, just how you deserve it. It should have been him there instead to do it all right; it is true that losing one’s virginity is often an awkward affair, his own experience was no less lousy, but if anyone were to have a perfect instance of it it should be you. Oscar can see it all now, how he’d go about it. Holding onto your soft curves as he pushes himself in slowly, the little gasps that would escape your honey-sweet mouth, so warm and wet on his lips. He would die happy, he thinks to himself, as his hand roughly palms his length, hair dampening from sweat in the blistering summer night heat. Cicadas sing outside his window; he heaves wildly, chest rising and falling dramatically as his hand gets slicker with each stroke. He had no idea he could even leak that much.

Thank god you’re sound asleep. He grips tightly onto the soft blanket, balling it in his fist as his eyes shut again tightly, the guttural noise he lets out much louder than he intended. Then Oscar collapses; his limbs go slack, heart beating out of his chest still as he lets out a long, drawn-out sigh, hand now sticky with his spent. The mattress is damp with his sweat. If he wasn’t before, he’s royally fucked now.

Your parents called; they’ll be home on Christmas Eve, but only in the afternoon, and they’re picking your brother up as well. Which means the two of you have some shopping to do; the house should be looking festive in time for their arrival. Oscar pushes the shopping cart, following you deep into the maze that is Kmart. He helps you haul the Christmas tree box in and out of his car. And he watches as you pull its branches down, giving it shape before littering it with baubles and tinsel. And when it comes time to finish the tree, you look him with bright eyes. He smiled at you, takes the Angel Gabriel out of your hands and places it on top of the tree carefully. You put on your silly little Santa hats and poorly bake gingerbread men.

You never end up throwing the rager Oscar jokingly suggested, but you do hold a small get-together after running into some old schoolmates at the shops. So it turns out that a few girls you used to do drama class with are in town, and of course anyone Oscar invites is going to show up—he’s Oscar fucking Piastri—so here you are, with a decent turnout of people currently congregated in the back garden and the living room. You’re thankful enough of them showed up on such short notice, with Christmas Eve only a few days away, and you’re thankful everyone seems to have gotten more civil and mature since you’ve left school.

The doorbell rings more than once, and you peel yourself off of the couch to go answer it, Balter tinnie in hand now that you’re all out of Peronis. Your eyes widen once you fling the door open, revealing a familiar face, standing with a smile on his face and a couple guys behind him.

“Surprise,” Jack chuckles.

“Doohan in the flesh,” you quip with a smile. “You cheeky boy. Since when were you in town?”

“Since yesterday,” he shrugs, and the guys behind him file past you into the house at the sight of some of their mates. “Heard you were throwing a thing with Big Shot Oscar. Hope you don’t mind that I’m crashing—I come bearing gifts.”

You shake your head. “Of course not, no, I’m glad to see you,” you say, though you sigh at the sight of the twelve-pack he’s got in his hands. “Mate, Strong Zero? It’s not that kind of party.”

“Some of us can handle our liquor,” Jack laughs, putting the pack in your arms before smoothing his hair back. “Don’t spoil the fun for the rest of us.”

You roll your eyes, turning your back to him as you walk down the hallway back to the kitchen. “Congratulations, by the way,” I say. “I’m glad to see two of our finest graduates succeeding.”

“I can tell. You’re beaming, clearly,” he jokes, following you in. “It was never in doubt for Oscar, anyway, so I think I deserve a bigger congratulations for making it, no?”

You peel apart the drink packaging, the tins of drink coming loose on the kitchen counter. “Let me get this straight: you want me to be more proud of you for being a worse driver than Oscar?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I’m just repeating your words, Jack-Jack.”

“Never said I was a worse driver,” he snickers, shaking his head as he folds his arms over his chest. “You snuck that in yourself. But I always knew you were biased, so I won’t take offence to that, Tiny.”

You turn over your shoulder, glaring at him. Dramatically, he throws his hands up in a display of surrender, but your conversation is cut short.

“Well, well, well,” Oscar grins, strolling into the kitchen and approaching Jack with wide arms. “Fancy seeing you here, F1 driver.”

“Fancy seeing you here, F1 driver,” Doohan beams, dapping Oscar up before pulling him into a hug. “How you been, mate, good?”

“Nah, yeah,” Oscar chuckles, glancing back to you with a smile. “It’s been a splendid break for me. You been good? Didn’t realise you were back.”

“Yeah, just landed yesterday,” Jack nods, a hand on the back of his neck. “Heard you two were doing a thing, thought I’d be jet lagged out of my mind but nah. Wouldn’t miss this.”

You notice Jack’s a little taller than Oscar, who’s having to tilt his head up a little. “Appreciate you showing up, mate,” the older one says. “I’m gonna go catch up with some of your mates, but stick around, yeah?”

“Absolutely, man,” the younger one says with a smile. “Good seeing you again.”

Then Oscar leaves, fingers gliding over the skin of your cheek in passing, a gentle action of tenderness, as if to say goodbye wordlessly. Doohan wiggles his eyebrows. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” you exclaim, eyes avoiding his gaze as you snatch a Strong Zero for yourself.

“That,” he presses on, finger extended now to point to where Oscar had put his hand on your cheek. “The little hand-cheek-look thing. The fuck? Do you have something to tell me, pal?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Please mate, just be normal—”

“Don’t gaslight me,” Jack says, as stern as he can be.

“He’s been living in my home!” you gasp. “Of course we’re a little close!”

“Living in your home—”

“Not by choice,” you roll your eyes. “Just—my family’s all out of town right now. He’s kind of all I have at the moment.”

“Agh!” Jack groans, smacking himself on the forehead. “Genius move. Fuck, I should’ve locked you two in a room myself years ago—”

You put the tin back onto the counter and slowly turn to face him. “Excuse me?”

He frowns. “Oh, man,” he pouts. “You don’t mean to tell me you two are still doing the thing?”

“What thing?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“You know, the thing,” he says, eyes innocent and wide as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “The weird game you two play. I thought you guys would have gotten over it already.”

Your breath hitches in your chest, making you stammer and go red in the face as your confusion worsens. Jack notices this. “What, you really don’t know?”

“No, Jack, I do not,” you manage to breathe out. “Please, enlighten me.”

He shakes his head, lets out a strange chuckle as he leans back against the wall, having taken a tinnie off the counter. “This would be funny if it weren’t so tragic,” he starts, grimacing. “Oscar used to push guys on the soccer team around for talking about you. He’d go silent whenever you were around and get clammy in the hands. He got weird whenever he’d even hear your name. And I’m sure I don’t have to list out your incriminating actions.”

Needless to say you’re taken aback by this. Eyes wide and blank, you look at him with shock as your mind oscillates between delight and horror, hand resting on your chest as if your heart needs the help. Jack sighs, and after a moment of tense silence he speaks again. “I take it that’s enough proof for you.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“We thought you knew,” he shrugs. “And it wouldn’t have been my place to meddle, and also, it was kind of amusing to watch.”

You scoff bitterly. “Amusing.”

“Well, not so much now,” Doohan nods.

Silence fills the kitchen again, the chatter outside quiet against the deafening quietness inside. “You do like him, don’t you?” he asks earnestly.

You don’t answer, but all he has to do is look at your solemn face and see the emotions threatening to spill out of you. He comes closer, puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey. Just take your time, mate.”

You nod, but you hear Oscar’s distinct timbre in the distance, speaking rapidly to someone. You turn your head and see him standing in the living room near the couch, and then—like magnets—he seems to feel your eyes raking over his figure, and meets your gaze as his head turns a little. Suddenly you’re sixteen again. He’s smiling at you like he used to, so fondly and sweetly, all the way from another room. Everything has changed but this feeling is the same. Oscar nods his head gently, as if to tell you ‘I’m doing okay over here, and I hope you are too,’ and you realise he’s dropped out of his conversation now just to look at you. He has always done this.

The hard part is over, but you didn’t know until it was spoken of.

You sweep the crushed cans off the table and into the garbage bag, back starting to hurt from all the cleanup you’ve had to do. Thank the lord they all left early; you haven’t been able to enjoy yourself fully since that talk with Doohan. Since then his words have just been eating away at you the whole night, but you can speak to Oscar just fine, you think. You’re trying your best, at least.

“Jesus, have the lights always been this bright?” he says, and by the way he’s stumbling onto the couch and slurring his words a little, he’s probably more tipsy than he’d like to admit.

You shake your head, turning around to face him. The cans inside the bag you’re holding clank against one another. “Fun night?”

“Not particularly,” he says, eyes shutting as he throws an arm over his face, lying down flat on the couch. “Just, those fucking Strong Zeroes, man.”

“I told Doohan he shouldn’t have!”

“He really shouldn’t have.” Oscar groans, eyes shutting tighter as he tries to push his face into the couch, and you chuckle before going back to cleaning up, moving towards the pile of cans on the kitchen island.

“Don’t leave,” you hear him say behind you.

You turn around, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?” you say. “I’m not. I’m just going into the kitch—”

“No,” he whines quietly, muffled by the fabric of the couch. “That’s too far. Stay.”

You stand still, still holding the bag in your hand, visibly confused.

“We should always be in the same room,” he continues. “I don’t want to be away from you.”

You flush at his words. You’re not sure if he quite grasps the implications of what he’s saying, but you chalk it all up to his current state—surely he’s just a clingy drunk. You put the garbage bag down against the wall, approaching the couch as he pulls his legs back to make room for you.

You sit down. “Are you feeling alright, Osc?”

“No,” he replies, too quickly for your liking. Oscar shuffles back onto his back, eyes still shut as his tone is reduced to grumbling. “I had this really awful thought the other day that we’re so far apart. I’m off doing my races and now you’re off at uni doing whatever.”

You cock your head to the side, clearly about to protest, but he starts up again. “I just want to know what you’re doing all the time,” he admits. “And how you’re feeling. I miss you all the time, and I wanna know you’re okay.”

“Oscar,” you frown, putting a hand on his arm tenderly. “If you want to stay in touch more, of course we can—”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to stay in touch. I wanna be with you.”

You pull your arm back. He winces, missing your touch. “Tiny, this must sound so crazy.”

“No,” you assure him, though you’re struggling to comprehend his words. “I just don’t know what you me—”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your blood runs cold even as your stomach shatters and explodes into a million butterflies that feel hot like lava inside of your body. “I know it must sound so crazy,” Oscar chuckles bitterly. “I know it must be so crazy…”

“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t think it’s crazy. I just, I wonder how you’ll feel in the morning.”

“It’s not the alcohol.”

He opens his eyes only to look at you, pupils darting around slowly to find you, the only soothing sight when the lights are still killing him. Oscar smiles a little at your familiar face. “I spoke to Doohan,” he explains.

“Ah,” you mumble, flushing. Of course he did.

He pauses a bit, tries to find the courage to speak again. He finds it in how your eyes seem to shine a little brighter where you’re sitting, mesmerised by how beautiful you are tonight. “He’s right, you know. I feel a bit silly, or stupid rather, like I don’t know how to explain myself.”

“Well,” you chuckle timidly, looking down at your hands. “I would have some explaining to do myself, too.”

Oscar smiles to himself. He takes a moment to catch his breath; he didn’t even realise he’d been holding it in this whole time. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.”

At his words, you look up to meet his eyes again, to see how he’s smiling now, and it makes your chest expand with warmth, heart pumping fast. “I’ll feel the same in the morning,” he says, sitting up clumsily now just to look at your face better. He doesn’t want to look away ever again. “I promise you that. I’ve felt this way since forever—I just didn’t know the word for it yet.”

Your eyes widen just a little more at his words; you don’t recognise the inexplicable feeling that’s captured your body, but you think this is what he means. The thing he didn’t know the word for. But you know the word for it now.

“I think I love you too,” you say.

Oscar lets out a quiet noise of relief. He finds your hand in your lap, takes it in his, and just holds it. You look at each other for a long while, taking in the details of one another’s faces. “You don’t look a day over seven,” you chuckle, and it makes him grin softly.

“That’s alright. Did you feel then how you feel about me now?” he asks.

“I think you sealed the deal when you helped me get up on my feet after falling off the slide,” you quip with a smile, and he squeezes your hand a little approvingly.

“You remember that.”

“The little things aren’t little to me, either,” you say, and his heart soars at your words. Oscar can’t resist it anymore; he tugs on your hand a little and pulls you into his arms, hands latching onto your waist as he holds you tightly. You fall into each other like magnets. It just feels right, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, but nothing in this world is truly given this way. You had been working for it your entire life, but you’re only knowing this now.

His lips hover over your cheek, and it makes you shiver, but it shouldn’t be like this. “I don’t want our first kiss to be when you’re drunk,” you tell him, pulling away from his flushed face. “It’s… You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. It just has to be right.”

Oscar swallows dryly, but he nods. “You’re right,” he says, with a gentle smile that tells you he’s being sincere. “You’re right. Not like this.”

He pulls you in again, holding you even tighter this time. You feel his heart beating out of his chest against yours, his warm breath against your skin, the warm his arms keep contracting as if he’s afraid to let you go. A warm waft of air filters through the window, left ajar, and swirls around the two of you, bodies now entangled. Neither of you can find a reason to leave, so you don’t. You never end up cleaning the kitchen that night.

The sun’s starting to filter through your blinds now, and you know you have no excuse to stay in bed anymore, but you don’t have the heart to wake him up. Your brother’s bedroom is probably collecting dust already; ever since that night, Oscar’s been sleeping in your bed now, and you both sleep so much better with a cuddle buddy by your side. He likes to be big spoon, but he’s happy to hold you face to face as well, duh! Why would he upset with getting to see your face, eyes shut so peacefully in slumber? He likes to wake up before you because of this, just so he can catch a glimpse of you so soft and pliable in his arms, comfortably happily asleep, but today you’re the one who wakes up first, stirred awake by the birds chirping outside your window.

You try to slip out of his grasp, but he just tightens his arms around you, furrowing his eyebrows in his sleep. You try again and he does it again, this time with a grumbling noise that makes you chuckle.

“Oscar,” you smile, press a gentle kiss onto his forehead. “They come home today.”

“So?” he grumbles back, eyes still shut as he pulls you in, tucking your head under his chin. “What’s it got to do with us?”

“We’ve got to make them brekky, babe,” you chuckle. You press a kiss to his neck now, before deciding you can’t really resist littering them all over his skin. “They’ll be starving by the time they get here.”

Oscar makes a strange, hushed noise. “Well, doing that certainly won’t get me out of bed.”

You’re confused, but then you realise something’s been pressing up against your thigh, worsened by how he keeps pulling you back into his arms. “Oh my god, Osc,” you yelp. “Just from a few kisses?”

“And maybe a very good dream,” he mumbles back. If he were awake, he’d surely be laughing, pleased with himself.

“You dirty, dirty pervert,” you snicker, but you’re tutting at him in a way that sends a tingle down his spine, and your fingers inching down the trail on his stomach is making him shiver. “You’re shameless.”

“Yeah, but something tells me you like it,” he says, but he can barely finish the sentence before you tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, shimmying them down. His length springs free; your eyes beam a little too brightly at the sight of it, making him laugh.

“Someone’s eager.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been dreaming about riding you into the bed for actual years,” you chuckle, long fingers wrapping around him. “You look delicious in the morning, you know that? All sleepy and dishevelled. It’s very sexy, Osc.”

“Ah?” he says, a moan disguised as a word. Your hand starts to move and he can barely hold himself back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your mouth is hovering over his cock now, warm breath making him shiver before your tongue makes contact with his tip, swirling all around the head in a way that makes his eyes roll back. “Holy shit,” you hear him mutter to himself, and you smile as you drag your tongue all over the length of him.

“Babe, I love the teasing,” he breathes out. “But I don’t think I can quite take it this morning.”

You hum to yourself, biting back a cheeky smile as a thought pops up in your head. “You know, you’re right,” you say. “We’re running on a tight schedule. And we could use something that saves time, so… if you’re getting head, you could give it too, no?”

Oscar’s face lights up at your words. “You wanna sit on my face? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, if you’re offering.”

“Fuckin’ hell, any day of the week, missy.”

With that, he puts his hands on your head and pulls you up for a kiss that deepens into a little more. His lips are soft, mouth hot and wet; you feel yourself dampen a little against the cotton of your panties, something he feels too as his hands travel all the way down to your ass, fingers reaching past the fabric of your shorts inside to find the wet patch growing at your cunt. Your fingers hook into the waistband of both layers, tugging them off eagerly as he steadies his hands on your hips again. You turn around, and now Oscar’s got your pussy hovering right over his face. He think he’s salivating at the sight of it. Is that too crude? Jesus christ, it’s just so much fucking better than he could have ever imagined, waking up with you by his side, having the girl of all of his dreams with him now, eating your pussy first thing in the morning.

“You’re not so tiny anymore, hey? You’re a big girl now.”

You flush at his words. “Just get to it, Piastri.”

He needs no further encouragement, hands on your hips pulling you down to his face, tongue flicking a long stripe all the way down your cunt. You cry out at the sudden contact, and you realise very soon that he is very good at what he is doing, soft wet tongue sliding between your folds carefully, lips wrapping gently around your sensitive clit, hands gripping onto the meat of your ass, an action that signifies a clinginess you’d never know from how soft-spoken he is. He eats you out like a hungry man, lapping up the wetness that soaked your panties before eagerly. When you wrap your lips around his cock, taking all of him in until he hits the back of your throat, it makes him groan against your pussy, and it feels so strangely good that you keep throating him just like that every once in a while, just to feel him shift underneath you and thrust into your mouth a little. He wants to be gentle with you so badly, and he is, but he just can’t resist it when you’re doing that.

“Fuck, babe,” Oscar gasps out, pulling away as his fingers continue to rub at your clit. “If you keep doing that thing, I won’t last very long.”

You can tell by his tone he’s slightly embarrassed about taking such little time to get there. “We’ll get there together, I promise,” you say. “Just—ah!—keep using your fingers.”

He smiles, happy to oblige. This time he dips a finger inside you, tongue now swirling around your clit as his finger curls, finding that cushiony spot inside you that makes your back arch a little. There it is. He slips another finger in, tongue flicking fast against you, fingers pumping at a steady pace as you suck his cock sloppily, drool pooling at the base, fingers still wrapped around his length, lazily moving up and down. It’s all too much for the both of you, both moaning and whimpering against one another as your bodies start to get more and more sensitive, responding to each motion with a little more volume. Your back arches, his hips thrust; you know you’re both getting to that climax.

“Babe, fuck—”

“I know,” you gasp, a long mewl drawing out of you as his fingers, soaked in your slick now, keep thrusting in and out of you. “I’m—hah—almost there, too.”

He nods his head eagerly and latches his wet mouth back onto you, eating you out desperately as his hips start to move on their own, filling your mouth and muffling your increasing cries of pleasure as your eyes shut and roll back.

“I can’t take it,” he moans loudly. “Babe, I—oh my god!”

Just as Oscar starts to flood your mouth, you collapse onto him as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless, body slack and limp. “Jesus,” you heave out, flipping onto your back off of him, swallowing all of his load down your throat. The sight of it makes him whimper. You take a good look at him; he’s got your slick all over his face, glistening from his lips down to his chin.

“Christ, I made a mess of you,” you chuckle, embarrassed, but he seems proud of himself.

“A souvenir, yeah?” He jokes, and you push his chest, rolling your eyes, but he pulls you into his arms. “God, that was fuckin’ amazing. You’re fuckin’ amazing.”

You pull the duvet back up over the both of you as you lie down once again, resting your head on his chest now as you look up at him with a smile. You wipe at his mouth with your hand. “There.”

“Aw,” he frowns playfully. “I quite liked it.”

“You fuckin’ pervert,” you say, going to push his chest again but he catches your arm with his hand.

“Don’t get feisty,” Oscar chuckles, shaking his head before pecking you on the forehead. “Let’s just lay here for a bit. And you know, I’ve been thinking.”

Your finger traces shapes on the freckled skin of his bare chest. “About what?”

“About you, coming to see me,” he says. “You know… I was thinking, maybe you could schedule your classes with me in my mind? You know, money’s not an issue. Transport, accommodation, passes, I can take care of all of that. I just need to know you can see me. Not for every race, obviously. But some of them. It’d mean so much to me, Tiny.”

You look up at him now, smiling. “Of course I can,” you nod gently. “It’d mean everything to me too, Osc.”

His face blooms into a smile, eyes raking over the details of your face, savouring it as if he hasn’t a million times before. “Then it’s done,” he says, bringing your hand up to kiss it. “You can’t escape me now.”

“Like I’d ever want to,” you roll your eyes.

Before Oscar can counter with a snarky remark, the door flies open.

“Piastri—seriously? My fucking sister?”

That’s the end! Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Leave em all in my askbox, and again, thank you so much for reading!

[lilylushes]

Luigi SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?): Luigi is very affectionate with you. He is not big on PDA, but will always be close by, maybe his hand in yours or on your waist or lower back. He’ll sometimes plant a kiss on your cheek or forehead if it’s not too busy and he’s feeling a bit sappy. I think his love languages would be physical touch and quality time. He’s not a ‘grand gesture as a show of affection’ kind of guy at all. Not even really into buying flowers. He shows affection by standing by you, supporting you, communicating well, and not being able to keep his hands off of you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?): Everyone who knows Lu has said he is an amazing friend. All accounts point to him as a supportive, fun-loving, and kind person. I think he’d love deep, philosophical conversations to get to know you, and I think your friendship would begin through finding a common ground during one of those conversations - maybe talking about how you feel different from everyone else or where society is headed. He’ll be anyone’s friend, but it would take something really profound like that for him to see you as something more.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?): He loves to cuddle. He might not be into PDA, but at home, he is SO cuddly in bed, on the couch, in the kitchen, in the bathroom. He’ll walk into a room you’re in and come over to hug/cuddle you and give you a kiss. He likes to feel like he’s protecting you when he’s cuddling you. He loves it when you fall asleep on him or just nuzzle in as close as you can because you’re cold or being clingy. But sometimes he’ll rest his head on your lap or chest so you can stroke his curls. You two are always cuddling and touching one another at home :)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?): I think he would like to adventure for a bit longer with a partner and then settle down somewhere, probably in the middle of nowhere on the beach. I think he could see himself with one or two kids later in life. He can definitely cook, I’m sure - he is from an Italian family. I’m not sure if he can clean, he lived in a frat house so it probably didn’t happen often.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?): I think he’d be really bad at breaking up lol, I don’t even want to entertain this, haha. He’d probably have something in his head and it would come out over-rehearsed and piss the other person off.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?): I’m SO torn on this. He is Italian and an Aries venus, making it possible he’d want to commit fast. But then again, with his lifestyle and free spirit, it didn’t seem to be on his radar at all. I think he wouldn’t seek out a connection, but if he came across one and she passed all of his tests, he’d never look back.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?): He’s a gentle guy for sure. He would never want to hurt you. He always has a hand somewhere on you, like he wants to make sure you don’t break or get hurt, that he’s right there. And I think this would extend emotionally, too. You would both treat each other SO gently, and SO kindly. You’d always check in on one another and make sure everything is okay.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?): AMAZING hugger. He loves hugs. He loves feeling like he’s protecting you while you’re deep in his chest. His hugs are like drugs to you. The way he holds onto you, it’s not too tight or too loose. With Luigi’s hugs, you can really tell he loves you and can’t get enough of you. He’ll often plant a kiss on the top of your head or your forehead. In one video of him with his sister, he’s rubbing her back when he’s hugging her so he’d probably do that as well :’)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?): While I think Luigi’s guarded, once he is in a relationship, I think it would be fast. He seems like someone who can potentially get kind of obsessive in a non-toxic way. You’re one month in and he’d be daydreaming of you having his children. He’d tell you in the heat of the moment after kissing you and pulling away to look at you. It’d be so precious, maybe I’ll make a oneshot from this concept.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?): He can get jealous, but he lets you have guy friends and hang out with them, just like you let him hang out with his female friends. If he sees another guy check you out, his hand finds yours and gives it a squeeze. He’ll sometimes bring that jealousy into the bedroom, too, but this is a SFW post! You both value independence, and getting jealous over small things is ridiculous to both of you. But he doesn’t like when other guys check you out. Still, he’d never get angry at you over that because it’s not your fault.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?): His kisses are tender and passionate. Even a peck from him seems to contain so much love for you, and even the wettest open-mouth kisses in the dirtiest moments have a gentleness to them. Luigi likes to kiss you everywhere. I picture him giving you those little “kissing attacks” where he lays them all over your face and neck because he can’t get enough of you. He loves to kiss your lips, cheek, forehead, neck, top of your head, and sometimes even your hand if it’s cold. He loves when you kiss his lips, obviously, and also his beauty marks and jaw. This is a SFW post but there’s somewhere else he likes a kiss after all is said and done.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?): He is an uncle and comes from a big family, so I think he’s great around kids. I see him getting any kids in his life a ton of books to read to them. Being around kids so much in his family, I think he’d be kind of looking forward to that time in his life.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?): A weekend morning with Luigi would involve not waking up too late. You’d cuddle for a bit and then go for a walk before returning home and making breakfast together. You’d then take a shower together and get ready for the day. As he watches you get dressed and do your hair and a bit of makeup, he hugs you from behind and kisses your neck.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?): Nights at home are spent watching a movie on the couch or reading books cuddled up together after the two of you cook and share a meal. Sometimes you’ll give each other massages or take a bath together. I could also see him wanting to go on drives at night.

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?): Once he feels he’s safe, he’d lay everything out there. I’m not sure how long it would take him to reach that point - I think it would depend heavily on the conversations you have. If you’re talking about deep things early and you say something to make him think and to make him feel safe, he’ll open up to you quickly.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?): I think he’s a calm man. He knows where to direct his anger and he picks his battles. He is Italian so he gets fired up, but not angry.

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?): Oh, this man definitely has a whole note on his phone about you. It has things you’ve said, things you’ve mentioned that you like, his favourite things you wear, etc. He works to know everything about you. And you’re the same way with him. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?): When you told each other “I love you” for the first time. You were just cuddled up on the couch, each reading a book. He watched you reading, and blurted it out. He was embarrassed, but wouldn’t take it back. You told him that you loved him too. You shared a beautiful kiss and he held you in his arms after for a little while.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?): He would do anything to protect you. He lets you live your life and isn’t super controlling, but he wants to make sure you’re safe. He asks you to text him when you get home and won’t hesitate to tell a creepy guy to f off. He hugs in a very protective way as well. He envelops you and holds you in his arms, just relishing in the moment where he’s protecting you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?): He’d put a lot of effort in! Like I said, he isn’t one for cliché romantic gestures, but he loves to plan out a perfect day for you. Both of you value experiences over things, so gifts are most often trips and adventures. He wouldn’t do an over-the-top anniversary dinner at the best restaurant in town because neither of you particularly want that. Instead, he’d book some crazy experience for you guys, like bungee jumping, and then you’d have a night in at home, just how you like.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?): This man thinks he is right 99% of the time and it would irritate you to no end. (I’m literally the same way lol and I am self-aware enough to know that it’s a shitty trait).

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?): He’s hot but also a nerd. I think he’d be mindful of hygiene and having a neat appearance, but he doesn’t care for having a ton of grooming products or fancy clothes. It takes him 5 minutes to get ready in the morning.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?): I think Luigi would feel incomplete, but wouldn’t want to admit it. Neither of you would want to admit it. You’d both see your relationship as enhancing your lives and identities, but not being the foundation of who you are as individuals. You agree that you have to come into a relationship as the best version of yourself. But if you broke up, you’d both feel empty.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.): Luigi likes to just hold your face and look at you. He could look at your face for hours, studying every little thing. He’ll watch you sleeping, and doing anything really. He just likes to look at you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?): I think he would have a hard time with someone who isn’t smart and doesn’t try to improve themselves. This is a booksmart guy and I think he wants to be around other booksmart people who understand him. In friends and a partner, he’d want someone with some intellect, maybe an advanced degree.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?): With his back pain, you don’t often fall asleep cuddling. He’ll make his presence beside you in bed known by placing a hand on your boob or hip.

[hellaarknight]

I promised to protect you

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Genre: Angst

Warnings: swearing and mention of physical and psychological abuse, toxic relationship, mentions of bruises and about laying hands on a partner, some of the content may be triggering.

Author note: I would consider this a heavy fic for some. Do not engage if you think it might be triggering.

Images and art from Pinterest if someone knows the original creators let me know so I can tag them properly

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

" Well he's not always this bad, he's ok..."

Your weak attempt to defend your shity boyfriend only made Chuuya angrier. Why would you let yourself be in the company of that awful guy, he could never understand. You were bright and nice, powerful and determined and yet you got yourself a... A leech. No, it was worse but he was being generous while describing that abomination of a man... That guy had deemed your light in the past 6 months he's dated you and Chuuya hates himself for allowing you to get with him in the first place.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?" Chuuya extended towards you a glass of wine.

"Listen Chuuya, I know he's not the man I've dreamed of and doesn't have all the qualities I've wanted my partner to have, but I also have to compromise on some things."

"Not on your dignity."

Your gaze fell on the floor a deep sight leaving your lips. Chuuya ran a hand through his hair, very frustrated. He didn't want to say it like that, but he had enough of seeing you suffer, seeing you renounce your hobbies because that guy deemed them "childish" or seeing you lose your spark when talking about what brought you joy just because your boyfriend found them boring. He knew you were smart, always talked about how you will never lose yourself in a relationship so he didn't really understand why and how you got to this point. Chuuya fell in love with you, but couldn't tell you because of his mafia position and him being away for missions a lot, or work trips how he called them in front of you. Then, when he decided he had to come forward and let you decide if you wanted to give him a chance with all that it would have entailed, he was a month too late. He returned from one long, painful mission and found you in a relationship, one that he despised wholeheartedly, so he chose to remain your trusted friend.

"Listen, I didn't want to say it like that...."

"No, that's not true, you did want to say it exactly like that". Your voice was on the verge of cracking. Something bottled up was about to spill if you weren't careful enough and Chuuya noticed it. The man groaned and took a sip of his wine. Maybe it was time to be honest about it.

" Fine. It's exactly like that. Since you started dating that douchebag you lost yourself. All the things you promised not to compromise on in a relationship happened. You lost your bright personality, you stopped rambling about books, anime and flowers. Hell, you even stopped gardening and that was your therapy. You asked me to stop bringing you flower bulbs from all over the places I go on my work trips and you stopped hanging out with me or your other friends. You stopped wearing your signature perfume and your red lipstick you were so fond of. So I'm sorry, but you're not in a fucking healty relationship! And you're defending that stupid fuck who doesn't do anything with his life and stays at your place, without paying any fucking bill! You left yourself to be a mat for that guy, what is wrong with you!?"

You looked at Chuuya stunned. It seemed that the red head had a lot bottled up as well. For some reason his words stung and made you feel worse. He was right and you fully knew it, but you just couldn't let him know... You could not put him in danger.

Chuuya was deeply unaware of your internal struggles. He only knew what he was seeing and what you were letting him know lately, which wasn't a lot that's for sure. He felt relieved to have finally spoken his mind. At the same time, guilt was eating him alive. This was the first time he raised his voice at you in a serious manner, but he couldn't control it, his anger towards the entire situation had the best on him. You looked frightened to say at least and he could swear that he saw you flinch when he was using his hands to express his thoughts.

Something about your crunched posture, your fidgeting fingers, the way you looked very exhausted made him open his mouth.

"Does he hit you?"

Why didn't it cross his mind sooner? What if you were in an abusive relationship? Your boyfriend's controlling behavior was concerning enough, but if it was worse than he imagined and all this time he blamed you for not keeping your ground? A pit formed in his stomach, he was going to be sick.

"What?? What, no... Is not really like that." You avoided Chuuya's scrutinizing gaze and forced a smile.

He gently reached for your chin and turned your head to face him. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, his gentleness making your heart flutter. Was his calloused hand always this comforting?

"Please, please if anything don't lie to me, especially with things like this. I promised you that I will protect you no matter what, remember?"

"I can't" you shake your head "If I'm telling you everything you're going to act impulsively. He's going to hurt you, he said you'd be the first one to suffer, I'm sorry, I can't..." At this point your cheeks were stained by your tears, your hand cupping his near your face.

Chuuya's heart broke at the sight. It was pitiful, he blamed himself for it. If only he wasn't a coward when it came to feelings. He swore to himself that he'd keep you safe from the mafia world, but that did not mean that in other circumstances he wouldn't be there for you. With his thumb he wiped your tears away.

" I am not going to get hurt, I promise you. There isn't any chance for him to lay hand on me. Don't hide yourself from me anymore, please. You're hurting and it's killing me to see you like this."

Chuuya felt as close to you as ever. Even if you kept your distance from him in the last few months, even if you tried your best to hide the hell you were going to. So you just broke down crying.

Chuuya was quick to pull you towards his chest, wrapping his hand protectively around you. He caressed your back and gave you space to let it all out. He was hurting with you, he hated to see you cry, let alone seeing how broken and hurt you were. He felt like the wall that rose between the two of you had finally collapsed.

" Is ok, is ok, you're going to be okay. I'm here now, you're safe, no one is going to hurt you here, I'll make sure of it. You are safe sweetheart, you're safe." He kept whispering sweet nothings and encouragement words until you got to calm down a bit. He used his gravity manipulation powers to bring closer the tissues and then handed you one.

" You' sure you're ok?" Your nod made him feel at ease, at least for a moment. Then he just grabbed one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly, silently encouraging you to talk.

" I want you to pinky promise that you won't do anything stupid." Your glossy eyes made Chuuya chuckle.

" You know very well that I can't promise something like that, doll. I'm gn'a promise that I won't get hurt, that I can do."

Your glare only made him raise his shoulder, but that will have to do.

" He... He may or may not have raised his hands at me. I definitely do have some bruises over my body, but they appeared from what he calls accidents. I tripped, or I fell into the chairs from the kitchen but he pushed me..." Chuuya silently listened, his blood boiling in his veins. He was ready to hunt the bastard down and bring him into the Port Mafia's torture chambers.

" ... and I kept all this to myself because he's a member in the mafia and said that he would put you on their killing list if I said anything to anyone so I was scared..."

" WHAT!?" Chuuya couldn't believe what he was hearing, your boyfriend was a what and did what? It was like his worst nightmare came to life but in a very twisted way. That was not plausible, the members in the mafia know very well the consequences of using their status to commit shit like this. Unless it was about some weakling, a newbie who got the hands on a bit of power and now thought nothing would touch him. What the fuck happened?

" I know, I know, it was very dumb of me to stay in the relationship, but I was really scared for you and for my family..."

" No, no, that's not it. Tell me his name and what he told you about being in the Mafia. That motherfucker is about to lose his head."

"Chuuya, you promised that you're not going to do anything stupid!"

"No, doll. I promised that I won't get hurt. But that isn't why I'm saying it. The guy can't use his mafia status however he pleases. There are certain rules even in the Mafia."

You looked at him confused.

" How would you know?"

Chuuya inhaled deeply. It was time to come clean with everything.

" Because I'm an executive in the Mafia and I can guarantee that the motherfucker you're dating isn't going to go about his day and live to tell the tale. I'm sorry, I'm going to explain everything afterwards, I promise. He's at your apartment?"

You were so confused, not really registering what he was saying so you just nodded.

" You stay right here until I come back. Go take a shower, take a bath, go in my office and read a book or you can find some manga collections that I have previously prepared in case you happened to stay here. You can find pajamas for you in the guest room. I'll be back later."

" Where are you going?"

Chuuya smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead.

" I'm going to show that bastard what it actually means to be in the Mafia."

[doujinshigirlai]

in your arms, I melt <3

Sypnosis:you surprise visit your boyfriend and his reaction is adorable

HYUNG LINE - MAKNAE LINE

Warnings:none!!

Genre:fluff

Requests: OPENNN!!!!

ENJOY POOKIE

**Bang Chan** Bang Chan’s natural leadership qualities extended beyond his professional life and into his personal relationships. He had always been the protector, the one who made sure everyone was okay, and you were no exception. He was in the practice room, typing away at his laptop when you walked in, quietly shutting the door behind you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. His gaze immediately softened when he saw you, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “How was your day?” You walked over to him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head, causing his smile to grow. “It was okay,” you replied, running your hand through his hair. “But I missed you.” He stood up slowly, pulling you into a tight hug, his arms enveloping you as though he never wanted to let go. “I missed you more,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck. “Everything feels less stressful when you’re here.” You chuckled, holding him closer. “Then maybe I should start visiting you more often.” Bang Chan grinned, pulling back to look at you. “I think that sounds perfect.”

Rest of the members under the cut ✨

**Lee Know** Lee Know was the type to tease you relentlessly, but beneath his playful exterior was a deeply caring partner. He often expressed his feelings in small, almost subtle ways, though you knew him well enough to see through it. Today, you found him lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, an easy smirk on his face. “Y/N,” he called lazily as you walked in, glancing up at you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re late. Did you forget about me?” You laughed, shaking your head. “I was busy. You’re not the center of the universe, you know.” Lee Know rolled over dramatically, his face now pressing into the cushions with a mock pout. “I’m heartbroken.” You joined him on the couch, nudging his shoulder. “Poor baby. What’s your plan to make up for it?” He finally turned over, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “You could give me a kiss to make me feel better.” With an exaggerated sigh, you leaned down, planting a quick kiss on his lips. “Better?” Lee Know’s grin spread wide as he wrapped his arms around you. “Much better.”

**Changbin** Changbin was all about passion—both in his music and his relationships. You walked into his studio, hearing the low hum of his voice as he rapped to a beat he’d been working on. When he saw you, he stopped, the lyrics falling silent. “You’re here,” he said, voice thick with affection, as if your presence was the only thing he’d needed. You smiled, taking a step toward him. “I couldn’t stay away. I missed you.” Changbin gave you a sly grin, stepping toward you, his eyes scanning your face. “You miss me? Or my music?” You laughed, shaking your head. “You, of course.” He took a step closer, his hand gently cupping your face. “Good answer. Because I was going to write a whole verse about how much I miss you,” he teased, brushing his thumb over your cheek. You smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “I’m right here, Changbin. No need for a verse.” He chuckled, pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re my favorite lyric.”

**Hyunjin** Hyunjin was known for his artistry—whether it was dance or painting, he poured his heart into everything he created. But with you, he was softer, more vulnerable. You found him today sitting by the window, sketching as he gazed out at the fading sunlight. He didn’t hear you come in, but when you stood by his side, he looked up, a surprised but delighted smile on his face. “You’re here,” he whispered, setting his pencil down and reaching for your hand. You smiled, sitting beside him. “Of course I am. How could I not visit my favorite artist?” He laughed, though there was a softness to it, and leaned his head on your shoulder. “It’s not just about art when you’re here. It’s about you.” You turned to face him, brushing some hair out of his eyes. “You always know how to make me feel special, don’t you?” Hyunjin smiled, his eyes a little brighter. “You deserve it. I wouldn’t be able to create if it weren’t for you. You inspire me.” You kissed the top of his head gently, letting the quiet comfort of the moment settle around you both. “You inspire me too, Hyunjin.”

I hope u enjoyed mll!!! I'm on readers block so please interact and request

I love u alllll

[akutasoda]

if you wanna take the long way?

synopsis - they meet you on their travels and you decide to join them on the road of a nameless

includes - himeko, welt, dan heng, march 7th, stelle

warnings - gn!reader, maybe ooc, fluff, tooth rotting fluff, bittersweet angst, childhood friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, wc - 3.7k

a/n: happy new year! kicking off with my longest post yet. one of my favourite songs atm is 'trailblaze ☆' by cowgirl clue and it reminds me so much of these guys (yes this is inspired by that song)

himeko ★↷

she had probably been travelling on the express the longest. she repaired it atleast and got it running again. and as many challenges it threw their way she still loved it. there was something about travelling throught the stars with people she cared deeply about that really had a place in her heart.

she never really thought much about personal relationships however. she knew the road walked by the nameless was a difficult one. one that allowed for little relationships outside of those actually on the express. but she knew that going into becoming a nameless so it never bothered her that much.

even so, sometimes there coulbe be unavoidable exceptions. that exception being you. she barely left the express, afterall others normally offered up or she would prefer to assist pom pom in the maintenance of the express. but somewhere she would stop off often would be the space station itself.

she enjoyed it's atmosphere and the people there were interesting to talk to, especially asta. but recently asta had introduced you to himeko. and himeko immediately took a shine to you. you were stunning and rather intelligent, two very admirable qualities. and so more often than not she found herself seeking out your company.

so much so that you always were the first to welcome the express back into the station and offer to help with any restocking or maintenance. she found herself growing rather used to your presence and always enjoyed seeing your face when they returned to the space station. so much so that she would miss you on her voyages.

call her selfish but she wished you'd join the express. you had the skills to be a valuable nameless and she'd prefer your presence by her side at all times. but she wouldn't force you. afterall sometimes when she misse d you she would curse herself for building that relationship with you but then she'd justify it because they regularly visited the space station.

but even so, she wanted to atleast ask. so the next time they docked at the space station she searched for you. which wasn't that difficult but then she accompanied you on your tasks and when you asked if the express needed anything she took her shot. she asked if you wanted to join her among the stars by her side.

was it a confession of her feelings or her asking you to join the express? well a bit of both. you were a bit shocked by the request but you really did want to say yes so you asked for some time to think about it. and she respected that.

it was rather cliche, but when the express was readying for another departure, she spotted you heading toward it. she asked of you had chosen and you said yes, you would join her. she couldn't of been happier as she took your hand and took you onto the express.

welt ★↷

he was rather a veteran to the express and it's travels. but he enjoyed the lifestyle led by the nameless, it was weirdly refreshing and provided him a new opportunity to work on his drawings and such. and the company provided was also rather enjoyable.

and going into the life as a nameless he was well aware that relationships outside of the express were short lived and should ideally be avoided. but there was one he had kept. one that he'd had since the start of his trailblazing.

due to the express stopping at the space station for extended periods of time he had met alot of the researchers that worked their. and the one got along the most with was you. you were the head of your field and he admired that.

he always enjoyed your company, you were nice to be around and it never failed to make him crack a smile or two. and he visited you everytime he could which never lead to himeko having to guess where he was.

and recently he had a conversation with you which was more of him telling you about the express's latest adventure. to which you admitted that you were kinda of jealous. you laughed as you went on to explain how sometimes you wished you could join him on the express.

and he felt very tempted to offer you then and there. he would love you to travel alongside of him, that way maybe he could build up the courage to confess. but he knew ot had to be your decision,and maybe you were just joking around. so eventually he bid farewell and left with the express yet again.

and when they next docked, he was very surprised to see you there ready and waiting for him with a big grin upon your face. you told him that if you were allowed, you'd like to join the express and he'd never said yes faster.

he worried about your work at first but very quickly got over it as you explained how you talked it all over with various people on the soace station and they all supported you in your decision to leave, no matter how much they'd miss you.

he pulled you into a tight hug and you reciprocated. he couldn't wait to now live out his lifestyle with the one he cared for most.

dan heng ★↷

when he joined the express, he left much of his old life behind. the parts that he hadn't forgotten he'd force himself to push to the back of his mind and focus on his new life. focus on his future, not his past like he used to always be tormented by.

and he still was tormented by his past in his nightmares but during the day he'd almost forget everything. almost. there was something his mind wouldn't allow him to forget something that was briefly his memory but mainly imbibitor lunae's memory.

and when he returned to the xianzhou those memories were all that could plague his mind. he almost hated himself for blocking out those memories because when they became crystal clear after re-awakening his old form, he knew he had to do something.

during his time as imbibitor lunae he had his main friends in the high cloud quintet. but if he was being brutally honest, his closest friend was you. a rather mischievous long life species such as himself. one that he had know since his youth.

his very first friend was you. you never failed to make him smile or laugh. when he was with you he could be a kid, not the future high elder in training. and thus you took it upon yourself to show him how to act his age by sneaking him out of his training and into the xianzhou to have fun.

and even as he grew into his role as the high elder you still snuck him out. but you were also his number one supporter. but the problem was that he had a slight crush on you. one taht he buried beneath lock and key because as the high elder the time he had for relationships was practically non existent and he knew you deserved better.

you deserve someone that could be there for you twenty four seven and support you in ways he couldn't. it hurt him because he desperately wanted you to be his, call him selfish but it was true. but he never was aware of your feelings towards him and if he was, maybe he'd have the confidence to confess.

but maybe it was for the best. he'd knew you would be hurt by his forced re-incarnation. you'd lose your best friend but he knew it would hurt you more to lose your lover. and even after his rebirth he would be forced to leave. to never see you again. but you simply wouldn't allow that.

you tracked him down before he could leave. he didn't know how or why, but you had one simple request before he boarded the express. and that was to remember you, even if you knew it wasn't your imbibitor lunae anymore. so forgetting you was something he would beat himself up over.

so there was nothing that seemed to stop him asking a request that the express stay a little while longer. he knew that he wasn't who you fell in love with, he wasn't him. but he felt like he'd own you this much. own you for everything you did for imbitor lunae even if that wasn't him.

and finding you was easy, afterall nothing seemed to stop you from hearing of dan hengs return. you caught him off guard really. one minute he was thinking on where to start looking, next minute you nearly tackled him to the floor with the force of your hug.

you expressed how haopy you were to see him and for the first time in ages, he didn't feel like himself. all of a sudden he felt like he was imbibitor lunae not dan heng. he knew it was wrong but even in this life he knew he loved you.

and you didn't seem to care that he wasnt imbibitor lunae. you immediately started talking to him as of it was second nature and you'd been friends for ages. and it was so uncharacteristic for him, but he really couldn't stop himself. as you babbled on about your life, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about you and him.

maybe in this lifetime, he could be the lover that he wasn't before. but he still stopped himself from saying anything, he'd never had a problem telling people that he wasnt him but when it came to you it seemed impossible. and you could still read him like an open book.

you could tell what he was thinking and you smiled at him, god that smile made him weak. you urged him to say what he was thinking and it was like you opened a vault deep inside of him. all his thoughts came spilling out at once.

and before he knew it, he said it. in his random mess of words ranging from 'i know im not him' and 'i know it's not him, but' formed the sentence 'would you forgive me, would you follow me?'. you knew what he was trying to say. and you couldn't of been happier to say yes.

and while he wasn't him, you weren't really you either afterall long life species somerimes undergo rebirths prematurely. so maybe this could be a knew era for you both. a new timeline in a way, everything would be new except the love you had for eachother.

march 7th ★↷

she had around 67 versions of how she came to be. all of which got more and more complex and inventive, but she knew it was her way of dealing with her past. she didn't like to dwell on it's rather unfortunate reality but rather focus on the fun alternatives that she could spend time curating and exploring.

and her lively energy was also her way of forgetting. she was still young! no matter how long she was in that ice and so she was going to live her life to the absolute fullest and enjoy it with the people she cherished most. even if it got rather dangerous at times.

but another aspect to her personality was being rather photogenic and in her opinion, fashionable. so alot of the places she visited with the express, she loved taking photos to remember all the fun times they had on those planets and such. and jarilo-VI seemed like a great photo spot.

but what caught her eye most was in belobog's underground. she caught eye of a rather fashionable looking person talking to natasha. she was immediately curious and she guessed they had some time to kill as stelle and dan heng had already retreated for the night.

she waited for natasha and you to finish talking before she called out. 'march! what a nice surprise, anything the matter?' natasha posed as she smiled at march before march responded simply 'just stretching my legs!' she tirned to face you 'what's your name?' she asked with the biggest smile.

you smiled, her energy was rather contagious and you introduced yourself before natasha interjected 'they often help out at the clinic if their not too busy and im too busy'. you and march immediately got along. so much so neither of you noticed natasha retreating into the clinic as your conversation continued.

you noticed the camera strapped to her outfit and you had an idea. you asked if she was a photographer and she responded with a yes and explained about the express. this intrigued you as in all honesty you were quite bored of the scenery presented to you down here and visiting other places among the stars really appealed to you.

but you thought you were getting ahead of yourself. you offered, if she wasn't busy, to show her some pretty good sights of the underworld. without thinking march agreed. you two had lost track of time by the time you two returned as dan heng and stelle were looking for your new companion. you bid her farewell as she rushed off with them.

all march could think about was you. she felt like she really connected with you and dan heng reminded her multiple times that they had more important things to do at the moment to which she laughed and apologised. but she truly couldn't get you put her mind.

so much so that she wondered if you'd be willing to join the express. you seemed really interested in it and she reckoned you'd really enjoy it but dan heng was right. they did have a more pressing situation at hand and therefore needed to focus on that, maybe after she could ask.

but you seemed to beat her too it. affter the situation was resolved you were amazed by the underground finally being open back up to belobog and news of the express's success reached you pretty quickly and all you could think about was finding march. it didn't take long however as she seemed to have the same idea.

you knew what you wanted to ask and hated how nervous you were about it but you finally found the right words. march was absolutely overjoyed at you aksing if you could join the express. she smiled and said something about asking a lady named himeko but you probably could. she grabbed you by the hand and dragged you all the way to himeko.

himeko could hardly resist after march's enthusiasm for you wnating to join. but she did make sure you were absolutely sure you could handle the life of a nameless to which you answered confidently. himeko could tell you and march would be absolutely pefect for each other.

stelle ★↷

her existence was rather unknown, even to herself and so she tried not to think about it too much. burying herself in the humour of exploring new worlds with her new friends. and exploring her hobbies, a particular favourite being dumpster diving.

she didn't quite understand why march and dan heng kept telling her not to, but she didn't really care. so during their time in belobog she would take up evry opportunity to dive through the nearest trash can that caught her sights. and that's how she met you.

you worked in belobog as a lieutenant of the silvermane guards. it had been a major part of your life, taking up most personal time you had and leaving little room for doing things with your friends or family. but even so there were elements to the job you did enjoy and maybe it balanced it out.

but today had been a slow day. your captain, gepard, had informed you some guests were wandering around belobog. apparently from the astral express to help with the stellaron situation. you cared little for the information at first as ot did really not involve you but you knew if the situation with the stellaron escalated you probably would have to head up front lines again.

so when you were doing rounds that bore your brain to death, that's really all you could think about. the astral express, a train that could travel beyond the stars - it did have a nice appeal to it you thought. unfortunately your train of thought was cut short as you heard the sound of bins clattering to your left.

you looked over and saw someone you'd never seen before. admittedly a rather pretty woman. you approached her as she continued rooting through trash - a strange thing in your opinion. you cleeared your throught and the grey haired woman turned to look at you.

you had to hold back your amusement at seeing a small bit of paper stuck to the top of her head as you asked a simple 'are you alright their?', she nodded and quickly explained that she was looking for something intriguing. you didn't have much else to do and yet you'd never thought you would have a go at dumpstter diving but you couldn't help but offer to help.

stelle's eyes practically light up at the offer, she'd never had someone offer to join her. and when a rather gorgeous person offered to join her she felt it was hard to disagree. you crouched down next to her before plucking the paper out her hair and asking something along the lines of 'so how do we do this?'.

you had way more fun than you thought. sure you were doomed to be reprehended by your superior for abandoning your duties but in your opinion it was worth it. the only thing that brought the both of you to a stop was a new voice addresssing the lady beside you.

you and the grey haired lady stood up to look toward what you assumed were her companions. the pink haired one was the firstt to speak 'stelle! we'd thought we lost you! and why are you still looking through trash!' only then did it dawn on you that you'd spent your entire day rooting through trash with someone you didn't even know the name of.

before the woman you know knew as stelle spoke up, the dark haired boy addressed you 'may i ask what you are doing here?'. you quickly explained that you thought she'd lost something and offered to help to which the pink haired one responded 'don't tell me the silvermane guards like dumpster doving as well', you could only let out a sheepish laugh.

you coughed into your hand and asked who they were. they explained they were the astral express guests and introduced themselves properly to which you did the same. you bid them farewell as you headed back to your supposed post for the hour - not that you did your over duties.

everything had happened rather fast. one minute you were chatting with the members of the express them they were criminals, wanted by the silvermane guards and now the stellaron situation had been resolved and bronya was the new supreme guardian. you really only knew what you had been directly involved in.

and in the aftermath you learnt of the express's successful interference. but you were rather exhausted from all of it and gepard had recognised your efforts and decided to let you off earlier than usual. but just as you were tidying your office to go home you heard a knock on your door. and it wasn't who you were expecting when you called them in.

truth be told, ever since stelle had met you and you helped her indulge in her hobby she couldn't get you out her head. she didn't really understand why and in what very little down time they had, she asked march about what she should do. and rather appropriately, march told her to worry about it after the situation was resolved.

and after it was, she could only still think about you. mar hburged her to seek you out and she had. spending time with you until she was informed they had to leave. and when they get back on the express and readied for departure she felt rather down. she didn't really know why either.

'what's with her today?' himeko looked at march, 'she wont be able to see her crush again'. himeko looked back at stelle before responding 'she has a crush?' march nodded rather enthusiastically and told himeko all about you. himeko only looked at stelle with a thought in mind.

and low and behold standing at your office door was stelle. you perked up at seeing her and she was noticeably happier as well. you invited her in and asked if she needed anything. the only response stelle could give was a rather confident 'would you join me?'. you were rather confused with the statement and asked what she meant.

she explained that she couldn't bear to leave you behind and himeko offered that if you agreed, you could join the express and travel with her. you knew it sounded rather rash and rushed but you wanted to blurt out yes and never look back on that decision. but this would be huge for you - leaving behind your entire life for a life with someone you'd barely know.

but even so, you couldn't help but still say yes. you couldn't bare to say no, when you wanted a change of pace and the fact that stelle looked at you with the biggest puppy eyes you'd ever seen. the express had to leave later than intended after all you couldn't quit on the spot but gepard was surprisingly understanding and turned a blind eye to the whole resignation process.

you knew deep down that this was big step that you probably didn't think over as much as you should've, but something was telling you to do so. telling you that the express was the right choice and a life beside stelle was the best path for you.

[duhitsitadori]

PART 1 of LOVE LANGUAGES (BLUELOCK)– PHYSICAL TOUCH

Featuring Kunigami, Nagi, and Kaiser. Tags: fluff, implied fem!reader Fandom: Bluelock Section: Concept Series, 1/20/2025 A/N: It's gonna be damn hard to finish this series with all five love languages because I feel like so many of the characters have quality time as their love language? But I feel like quality time is a really popular love language anyways so… enjoy the crumbs, folks. Sigh. Lmk ur love language hcs for other characters + why besides these three BTW this is not proofread so sorry if there’s any errors Song Suggestion: Hrs & Hrs – Muni Long (I’m doing song suggestions that I think fit the vibe so lmk if y’all like it and if I should do it more!)

Renuske Kunigami– Loves to gesture his love to you in meticulous ways, just as a small reminder to let you know he’s always there. He has a habit of making you flustered beyond belief through this, and he knows it. It’ll be in the least intimate of settings: sitting at a restaurant, at amusement parks, anywhere public really; he’ll put his large arm behind you as if he’s making room for him to relax a bit in all the chaos, and still have access to you any way he wants. It’s a dangerous game, but you don’t fight it. And if he really wants to make you quietly go feral, he’ll go for your ears. His arm would travel up from your waist while you're conversing with someone on the phone or busy with something in your hands– you’d shiver hoping your body's reaction would gently signal him to stop his advances, but he rarely ever takes it as a hint. His fingers would stop at its destination, tapping every so lightly on the back of your ear, brushing the back of his nail slowly up and down against the sensitive skin. He hums in satisfaction taking note of the way your breath hitches after a few strokes, waiting for you to finally break. At some point you swear you’re about to combust, the way he decides to tease you further by finding distraction in the hair tucked behind your ear, twirling it in in small twists and finally releasing it back into place. And to finish the act, he stops and fully removes himself from you, letting you continue whatever it is you were originally directing your attention towards. He’d take his phone out of his pocket, or turn away from you to make it all look seamless and unintentional. A sense of vacancy comes over you when he pulls away, and Kunigami feels your immediate longing glance from the side of his shoulder. You watch as a smirk creeps up on his lips, and he knows he has you when you tug on his shirt to ask for more.

Seishiro Nagi– Is a 190cm sloth that clings onto you like no tomorrow. In the beginning of your relationship, you would have never thought he was this touchy, or would initiate things for that matter. But now, about a year in, when you tell Nagi that you thought that about him, he suggests that you simply just didn’t notice how much he wanted you. You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend, not knowing at all what he means– you swear in the beginning he’d become stiff as a board when you even so much as extended your pinky towards his hand. “I mean, really?” You pout, laying on top of the white-haired man. “Sometimes I think you just say those things to make me seem like I’m wrong.” Nagi loves it when it's like this. Lazy days, a whole lot of touching and quiet while doing things around the house or just indulging in your hobbies together. But Nagi privately cherishes moments like these the most, when you two go to bed after a warm shower and start up a seemingly futile conversation– living in the mundane with you is something Nagi Seishiro could do for the rest of his life, and forever really. You bury your face in his chest, grabbing his sweater slightly in embarrassment. Nagi looks down at the hair parting on top of your head, and a warmth overwhelms him. He thinks you look so cute like this, trying to hide yourself from him even though he knows he can see all of you, take all of you– whenever he wants. He respects you, there’s no doubt; but it never fails to please him seeing you all susceptible to him. He has this impact on you? God, you’re perfect. There’s never been a more perfect person for him. He needs you, you need him, and he gets all gushy thinking of how he wants to spend the rest of his days and every night like this. His hand reaches over to pet your head with his thumb, and you squirm a bit in response. He smiles, and leans down a bit just enough that you can feel his calm breaths on the tip of your ear. “Just admit you were a little naive, it’s okay.” He whispers, letting out a small chuckle. You feel blood rush to your cheeks, and ball up your fists. He rarely ever teases you, and plus it was a genuine thought. You groan, throwing your hands up and drop them on Nagi giving him a little thump on his chest as punishment.  “Sei!”, you let out a muffled blurt, kicking your legs on his. And he laughs. He laughs, and you wished you picked your head up, because you swore if you did you would’ve seen a smile full of teeth on your boyfriend. Nagi laughs with you, but he never has the courage to let the world see it covering his face before anyone can embrace his happiness. It happens rarely, and this time you missed it. Now you were really upset, and Nagi felt the way you let your face press even further into his chest. Your eyes wince, and you think maybe you’re just too tired to be thinking so much about really nothing at all. You let out another drawn out groan, and Nagi’s smile doesn’t waver as he watches you unfold. Though, he can say he felt a little pity. “Say,” Nagi says, grabbing both your shoulders and hooking his legs under yours. In one swift motion, he flips you under him, and his white hair is draping over your forehead. Sometimes you truly forget how big Nagi is, the way he just cages you with his torso alone. He tilts his head, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, “You look pretty cute like this.” You roll your eyes, averting your gaze from him. “Like what, Sei.” You miss it, because you try to focus on the wall next to you, but he’s smiling again. “Like this.” He looks you up and down, but you just groan again in response. He brings his head in closer, whispering again like he knows exactly how to make you spiral. “Look at me.” And you can’t help it, obeying his loving commands. “There you are, my loving girl.”

Michael Kaiser– Has a hard time with his words, but shows you just how much he loves you whenever he can get his hands on you. He has no shame in showing it too, whether it be on or off the field– after all you are his pride and joy, why not show that off to the world? However, though he loves reaching into the stands and pressing his lips hard onto yours after a lengthy and victorious match, there is nothing better in the world to him than when he comes home from a laborious practice and he gets to indulge in you without any outside interruptions. To him, you’re like endless brain candy that won’t put his mind into overdrive, and he doesn’t want to stop consuming all of you for how at ease you put him. He’ll come home all sweaty and flushed from conditioning at practice, and see you lying lazily on the couch scrolling through your iPad. And he thinks he’s going crazy every time he comes home like this– all drenched, sweaty, and his mind a little bit foggy because for reasons he can’t name, it just makes you look ten times more ethereal in his eyes. You look over and smile, welcoming him home. His eyes flicker up and down at you after staring, and you watch as he snaps himself out of his little dreamy state. His hands reach up from his waist traveling through his blonde bangs, covering his eyes as a small, and what you think is a smug smirk starts to form on his lips. He laughs, letting out a quiet hum while still standing at the door. You tilt your head. “Micha?” you say, putting your iPad to the side. All he does is exhale, and let his shoulders drop as though he’s released a thousand weights. You wait, and still no response. You question him again, but this time, you motion to get up and he finally perks his head up from his hand. “No, no.” he whispers, so softly you’d think he’d just accidentally woke you up from a deep slumber and was trying to put you back to sleep. He begins to walk over, his large figure gracing over the carpet to the couch where you were sitting. “Stay where you are, mein liebling.” he continues. He uses the term of endearment often, but something about the way it left his lips like sweet dripping honey all exhausted, warm, and muscles still tense from his workout had you stuttering through your own train of thought. And just when you think you’re starting to put all the pieces together– that maybe he just had a bad practice, or a teammate was annoying, all common sense goes out the window. He pushes your shoulders down onto the brown cushion of the couch, gently as though you were made of glass and could shatter your skin if he just pounced on you. Heat was radiating off him, and a mix of sweat, cologne, and hint of grass floods your senses. You think you might just fall into all of him the way he gently brushes your hair off your forehead and puts his face close to your neck, but not enough to bury it. You think you could scare him off somehow if you even flinch, so you make sure to stay perfectly still so you can feel the way his breath deflects off your skin. Finally, he closes the agonizing gap placing a delicate kiss between your ear and the crook of your neck. He pulls away, and then he doesn’t stop; targeting your cheek, the point of your eyebrow, the tip of your nose, the depression of your cupid's bow, the pristine angle of your jaw– he loves it all. “M-Micha–” your breath hitches. “Is everything okay?” “It’s fine,” he responds, his own breath quickening between every other kiss he plants on you. “Everything’s fine.” He closes his eyes again and continues his indulgence. You feel another kiss, and another, and another. You close your eyes too, understanding there was nothing to figure out in the first place when he walked through the door.

NOT PROOFREAD.

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[butterflydm]

wot reread: a memory of light (chapters 24-31)

spoilers for a memory of light, the final book.

Everything that Tuon thinks about her life really does sound like it's going to make Mat so miserable. All the obligatory pomp and circumstance, even in private (because you're never in private when you have slaves!). But, hey, he'll get rewarded with sex every time he saves Tuon's life, so who needs happiness? (/sarcasm)

Given how many truths about the Seanchan have been withheld from Mat in order to get him to this point, I wonder how many of those truths it would take for him to abandon ship?

Note: I am going to be questioning and interrogating Mat's actions, words, and behaviors a LOT going forward and not taking much at face value. And that kinda extends to people talking about him: what do they know and believe about him, etc? Whose PoV are we in when certain things are said or revealed, etc? This is mostly for two reasons: a. I am sussing out how much wiggle room there is for writing fic about Mat in this time period and b. I want to try to not make assumptions based on my first thoughts when I'm reading each PoV.

2. Beslan says that Mat has changed and "I don't know what to make of him any more." Beslan is all-in on the slavers now, which makes him a very great disappointment to me. I guess we can't be that surprised. He enabled his mom being a serial rapist, so I guess it shouldn't be a shock that he's willing to enable slavery as well. What Beslan says about Mat is... hmm. How well did Beslan ever know Mat, I guess is the question that immediately springs to mind. Beslan was the son of Mat's rapist, who allowed that his mom was maybe going too far with Mat but still was basically a momma's boy despite the rape. And the last time Mat saw Beslan, he was a revolutionary who was willing to stand up against the Seanchan even when his mother was not, so I suspect that he would also not be certain what to make of you, Beslan. Honestly, given that Beslan's last experience of Mat was "wants to escape Ebou Dar no matter what", the most surprising thing for him should be that Mat voluntarily returned to Ebou Dar.

But everything that Tuon thinks here about how Beslan and the Altaran people have been "properly tamed" does give me that gross feeling that she (and many of the Darkfriends in the series) gives me in her PoV chapters. If Mat could actually see her thought processes, all his fantasies about how she's Not Like the Other Seanchan would go up in smoke.

3. Selucia slightly shades Tuon on how she hasn't broken Mat to fully proper behavior yet (he's cursing at some news they've received) and Tuon immediately decides that she needs a new Truthspeaker so that Selucia can go back to being only her Voice (and not speak any opinions that aren't exactly your own, Tuon?).

An Empress must be "crafty", "strong", and "skilled" to sit on the Crystal Throne, Tuon thinks.

Ah, I guess that's why she died pretty quickly in Aviendha's alternate future. Tuon doesn't have any of those qualities. It is interesting to think about how Tuon pumps herself here up with an impossible goal: that she be strong enough to live forever (as the Empress is meant to do and yet how every single Empress has failed to do) so that she can bring 'order' to the world. Just as Fortuona is not living up to the fictional Tuon in Mat's head, she can't possibly live up to the Empress that she believes that she needs to be.

There really are hints, here and there, of the interesting character that Tuon could have been. She just needed so much more character work. I do think she's been more interesting under Sanderson so far, though, at least than she was in CoT & KoD.

4. At this moment in time, Tuon is regretting her marriage. Mat's fancy Seanchan uniform keeps snagging on everything that he passes and her other generals find him baffling. She married "chaos itself". This feels like another place where we're being told one thing and shown another. What has Mat actually DONE that is chaotic to Tuon's plans? He saved her life and advised that she not be stupid enough to actively try to sabotage Rand saving the world, but he didn't challenge her on anything or fight her on anything.

This really does show the all-or-nothing attitude of the Seanchan: Mat has bent so much to accommodate Tuon that he's practically unrecognizable to who he used to be but that's still not enough for her. Nothing but complete and eternal submission is enough for her. He can do everything she asks but if he doesn't have the right attitude about it, then she's still unhappy with him.

5. Oh, "the Prince of Ravens" thinks that they're joining the battle too late? MAYBE he shouldn't have deserted on the eve of the fucking Last Battle then? Sanderson suddenly inserting a feeling of urgency in Mat about getting to the Last Battle feels so ridiculous. Mat didn't give a shit about the Last Battle a couple of chapters ago. He ran away so that he could have some drinks in slaver town. The Last Battle has been happening for at least a week at this point.

Mat being someone who is creating urgency and rushing would make so much more sense if he'd gone to the Seanchan as a negotiator and not as a deserter.

We do get confirmation here that Mat is now the second-highest ranking member of the High Blood, after Tuon herself. And the mere fact that Tuon thinks here that he would "never be a rival" makes me feel like narrative irony would have insisted on him being the one who topples her from her throne.

6. This is when Tuon renames Mat as "bringer of destruction" (aka Knotai aka I am not using that name in this reread ever again). Mat deciding that he likes being dubbed a "bringer of destruction" is another thing that feels bizarrely out of character but I will note that this is all in Tuon PoV, so we don't know how Mat actually feels about the name (I'm pretty sure he doesn't start calling himself that in his head at any point). And we've seen that Tuon has a very difficult time reading Mat, so if he was giving off any tells that he was lying, she would certainly never pick up on it. She glares at him after the renaming and wills him not to argue with it, so his response might be Mat picking up on her cues and responding.

"The Pattern had placed [Mat] before her, had shoved him into her arms." It sure fucking did and it was so incredibly annoying to read.

Tuon also does (internally) note here that Rand was 100% correct about how fragile her rule here is.

Haha, after Selucia uses their handtalk to call Tuon out on the risks she's taking, Tuon thinks again that she needs to replace Selucia as a Truthspeaker so that Selucia can go back to being a good little parrot and stop having opinions (this is a mild paraphrase of her thoughts).

7. Ah, this moment is in Tuon's PoV but it actually does still manage to be pretty clear exactly how much she is disappointing Mat when she considers the idea of going back on her word and swooping down on the Aes Sedai to capture them all as damane rather than going to aid them as allies. That's the moment of Actual Fortuona failing to live up to the Fictional Tuon in Mat's head that I was remembering. Back during either TGS or ToM, Mat realizes that it was likely that Tuon didn't stay in CoT & KoD because she was being honorable and keeping her word but instead was staying because of the prophecy about him she'd gotten, but he kinda just ignored the implications of that realization.

The mere fact that Tuon considers the idea of breaking her word here would remind Mat that her word is meaningless (and Mat has developed, as we have established, a fey-like obsession with keeping his word). It is interesting how Tuon thinks of herself as the embodiment of order and yet so easily considers throwing away a treaty and going back on her word; yet she considers Mat the embodiment of chaos when he does his best to always live by his word no matter what the personal cost. Mat probably would push it away again here (she does make the right choice when it comes down to it) but it's another place where Actual Fortuona would be a disappointment when compared to Fictional Tuon in Mat's head.

Ultimately, when Tuon decides to keep her word, it isn't out of honor but due to the omens telling her to bet on Mat.

I will note at this point in time that Mat is still being informal and using "Tuon" freely.

8. We get a glimpse of how pressed things are on Lan's part of the battlefield before shifting over to Elayne's. Birgitte tries to keep Elayne in the command tent and Elayne finally snaps, telling her that if Birgitte can't follow her orders like all the other soldiers are willing to do, then she will release their bond. I'm sure Elayne gets hate for this, because she gets hate for everything, but I found it very cathartic after how much Birgitte has been getting on my nerves in this book. And Elayne's right that she's more useful out there doing things -- she is an extremely powerful channeler. It is a waste of her talents for her to sit in a tent.

9. Hmm, yeah, as Rand enters Shayol Ghul itself, he notes that time is affecting him differently. He can tell that one of the women that he's bonded to is in pain but he can't tell who it is and he worries over Elayne and Aviendha.

Though the knife worked to shield Rand from the Dark One's eyes, Moridin is still waiting for him there. I wonder how long he's just been kneeling there. So, yeah, before Rand can get to the Dark One, he has to take care of Moridin.

Anyway, we learned in Siuan's PoV just before this that Min was sent to the Aes Sedai camp with the message "The Seanchan fight the Shadow." You know, I like that message because it doesn't overpromise anything and it doesn't set up expectations that the Seanchan won't be absolute douchebags, as they certainly will be.

10. Luc Mantear and Isam Mandragoran's story as Slayer really could have been heartbreaking and fascinating if Jordan had ever actually leaned into the implications of it. They're both essentially collateral damage -- Isam was left behind when the Blight swallowed up Malkier; Luc was sent off into the Blight to 'seek glory' in order to help wedge an opening for the Mantears to be pushed off the throne of Andor. But the books never explore that.

As it is, Slayer is just... this disconnected assassin who shows up once in a blue moon, and there's not really any substance there to hook onto.

After a... really long battle involving Slayer and the red-veiled Aiel channelers, Perrin fails to kill Slayer and Slayer ends up escaping. Lanfear shows up to heal Perrin and she continues to seem vaguely irritated that she's interacting with him ("You can be such a child"). He sets the dreamspike up inside the cavern to protect Rand and asks the wolves to guard the outside of the cavern (this is all in TAR).

11. Egwene feels so gross as she heads towards the meeting that she is about to have with the Seanchan, because she knows that the Seanchan fighting means damane fighting, which means forcing slaves into battle.

Tuon sits on her mobile throne, with a train being held by eight slaves in transparent robes. Literally every time Tuon's lifestyle is described, it just sounds like something that is going to make Mat so incredibly miserable.

lol, the narrative tries to convince us that Tuon is "calculating" and "discerning" through Egwene's description of her eyes. I've been in the girl's head. I'll grant you "manipulative" and "can spot an obvious clue when it's shoved under her nose" but that's as far as I'll go. Egwene, you were absolutely right when you assumed that Tuon would be coddled and spoiled. I speak as someone who was forced through two long books of "a brat goes on a circus tour and throws several tantrums".

12. Anyway, both Egwene and Tuon feel contempt for each other -- Tuon for what Egwene inherently is as a person (a channeler) and Egwene for the person that Tuon chooses to be (a slaver).

Which we can see in the way they talk to each other -- Tuon calls Egwene an animal, while Egwene calls Tuon a criminal who would be at home with murderers and rapists. Tuon sees what Egwene is as the problem with her, while Egwene sees who Tuon is as the issue with her. These are not the same as each other.

13. So here on page 471 (hardback version), Mat has finally shown up to the Last Battle. Over halfway into the book! Literally makes me want to stab a wall that Mat spent half the book just fucking around with slavers instead of helping with the Last Battle. I assume we're supposed to feel like the Seanchan coming to help would be impossible without Mat, because he shamed Tuon into actually keeping her word, but there were better roads of getting Mat there that didn't make him a deserter and a defector. But I'm guessing making Mat those things was the point of his impossible teleportation logistics between books.

Just. Ugh.

14. The reason that Egwene realizes that Mat is here, among the collection of "frozen Blood in various poses" around Tuon, is because Tuon turns to berate him for not telling her that Egwene was once captured as damane and thus making her show her ass in public when she tried to argue that Egwene would understand how great being a slave is if only she'd tried it.

The question I have here is: are we supposed to believe Mat when he claims that he only didn't tell Tuon about Egwene having been captured as damane because he 'didn't think on it too long' that Egwene's captivity had happened. It's in Egwene's PoV so we are, once again, not in Mat's head. The main good quality that Mat has been able to hold onto when he's been around the Seanchan has been keeping his friends' secrets. tbh it seems more likely to me that he just didn't think it was Tuon's business (it would have been a pretty big betrayal of Egwene's privacy for him to confide that in Tuon, imo?). But, yeah, Tuon explicitly says here that she is going to have a "not pleasant" conversation with Mat about him holding back information on her. And it pretty clearly comes across as a threat.

Yikes.

15. Egwene does seem to believe here that Tuon has made a grave mistake by marrying Mat... but it's explicitly because Mat is ta'veren and Tuon has trapped herself into his web. And it amuses her because she assumes it can't mean anything good for Tuon or the Seanchan in the long term. (I mean, given that Mat has gotten hundreds of thousands of people killed on the Westlands side... yeah, it does seem like a lot of dead Seanchan are in the future on Tuon's side, and Mat might never even realize he was the enabling factor). So this is the one time that I'll allow for a character to be amused that Mat has married a slaver -- Egwene clearly sees this as Tuon having screwed herself over in the future without realizing it.

Though Mat does throw out a "may she live forever" (eyeroll), he is also still calling her 'Tuon', despite the threat of execution. And note that Mat is still of the opinion that "being ta'veren has never gotten me much" so he doesn't seem particularly happy about being married.

16. Yeah, Tuon also makes it very clear that the new clothes and the new name are deliberate attempts to separate Mat away from his past connections and make it clear that Tuon owns him now. "He serves the Seanchan, the Crystal Throne, and the Empress."

She is isolating him from his previous friends and making it clear that he belongs to her. Egwene is 100% right in her instincts that he needs to be saved from Tuon, even if Mat himself doesn't realize it (or, potentially, does realize it but isn't willing to admit to it).

17. So Egwene has to renegotiate with Tuon because now that Rand is gone, Tuon is forcing everyone to start from page one with her again, because she is a coddled and spoiled brat who wants to eke out more concessions if she can get them.

But the results of Tuon attempting to re-negotiate with Egwene now that Rand is off on his mission actually ends up backfiring on Tuon overall, I think! -- Egwene gets Tuon to agree to leave Tremalking alone (because they haven't found a compliant Sea Folk leader along the lines of Beslan to lend them legitimacy) and Egwene makes a spirited attempt to get Tuon to agree to allow women who have just been discovered but not yet collared the opportunity to choose to go the White Tower instead, leaning on Tuon's stated belief that marath'damane want to be slaves so it's no big deal to offer them the option of freedom.

But Tuon does balk at this idea, unfortunately, because she gets scared when Egwene mentions that all sul'dam are marath'damane.

18. Egwene, because she actually is discerning and calculating, picked up on what Tuon said about having trained damane herself and says, in front of the Blood, that as a sul'dam, Tuon is capable of channeling. Which Tuon already knows -- she learned this in KoD -- but she calls Egwene a liar because living in denial is the only way she can keep her power base and nothing matters more to Tuon than sucking up all the power in the world. It really does suck so much that we came up to the brink of Something Actually Happening with the Seanchan storyline and then backed away like cowards. There will never be any outriggers! Pull off the damn bandaid while the books are still running!

We don't get any mention of the Blood or the various damane & sul'dam who are around reacting to this bit of information either, but they do hear Egwene call ~their Empress~ out on being a liar, and call their Empire out on being a machine of cruelty that tortures women into fates worse than death. Will that matter? Who the fuck knows. Maybe one or two of the Blood here will feel a pang of conscience, as Leilwin née Egeanin did, and begin the slow and painful process of changing. Or maybe not.

And it is satisfying to get to see someone calling Tuon out on what a hypocrite she is -- she's all for preaching that other people should get put into the collar because they're just ~meant~ to be slaves but of course she wouldn't do it to herself. Of course she wouldn't. The idea terrifies her to death, I'm sure. Which also shows how deeply in denial she is when she claims that marath'damane just naturally want to be collared and anything other than that is a weird outlier. She knows damn well that it isn't true, because she doesn't long for the collar herself. But if she stuffs her fingers in her ears and just shouts that she's not marath'damane loudly enough, she can make herself believe it.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that Tuon did not go into this conversation looking to be publicly accused of being marath'damane herself, especially not in front of a crowd of Blood, so I feel like this one was a win for Egwene.

19. When things get to be really heated between Egwene & Tuon, with Egwene embracing the Power, Mat intercedes. What Mat says here is gross and demeaning; and I think we can all agree on that (a threat to take them over "over his knee" as if that would even be possible in this situation), but Egwene doesn't take it seriously for a second because she can see that Mat is trying to deflect her and Tuon away from each other and onto him (also frustrating though, because I really wanted something to Actually Happen with Tuon).

Also, we get a reminder that Tuon is a big ol' liar about not being jealous over Mat and other women, because she stares at where Mat's hand is touching Egwene's chest until he lowers his hand.

It also leads to another threat from Tuon about how she and Mat will have "many words" tonight, but they do both back down. But, wow, Tuon is so jealous over Egwene here, which is hilarious from the perspective of actually knowing anything about Egwene and Mat's friendship.

(sadly, I must take away Egwene's right to be amused at Mat's marriage at this point in the conversation, when she bizarrely attempts to commiserate ??? with Tuon over Mat's foul language)

Also, I will note that Egwene offers to help free him from the Seanchan, Mat doesn't tell her that he doesn't need to be freed, he tells her that he can handle it on his own. Slightly different things. Do you have an exit strategy, Mat?

Egwene is still determined to help Mat get free of the Seanchan somehow. AU idea where she does!

So, Mat leaves with Tuon and we know that she plans to have a 'not pleasant' conversation with him. So I will mark that in my notes to keep in mind the next time we see Mat.

20. As we've been going through the various battlefields, the 'great captains' have continued to make bone-headed mistakes. As we return to Elayne, it seems like this is coming to a head, as Tam confronts Bashere.

(and, no, she doesn't think about how Tam is Rand's dad and will be her kid's grandfather. Why would she, apparently?)

Tam accuses Bashere of not using scouts and falsifying scouting reports instead, saying that Bashere is to blame for the bad tactics that have happened in the recent battles. After considering how badly they've been trapped by the Shadowspawn, Elayne orders Bashere relieved from duty and has Talmanes take him away with the Band's Redarms.

And now Elayne is the one leading the army here, not Bashere.

21. Bryne gets one right for calling Tuon "that Imperial monster of a Seanchan leader". I have to admit, so far, there is less of the "let's hold hands with the Seanchan" vibe that I remembered and more "ugh, fuck, I guess we gotta hold our noses and deal with the Seanchan" vibe, at least in most chapters. It's really Mat's bizarro-world PoVs that tend to throw everything else off, and Mat has been kept ignorant of the Seanchan's recent actions under Tuon's guidance.

Bryne actually made Min do some real work by having her clerk for one of his people! Okay, Bryne has two rights. This is the first time Min has done any real work in what feels like forever. Being away from Rand is already doing her some good. But now the tent she was working in has been destroyed, so he puts her to work as a messenger (Min actually volunteers, which is definitely better than how she behaved when she was with Rand).

I kinda feel like my own opinion of the romances in WoT does hinge pretty strongly on "do they become less interesting characters when they are spending time with [love interest]?" but also on "what else do they have going on besides being [main character]'s love interest?".

ex. I liked Min best in TSR and once she starts really one-note obsessing over Rand in TFoH and onward, my interest in her nosedives because it feels like she has zero interests or drives outside of Rand. Get a hobby, Min! One that isn't about Rand (so the interest in 'philosophy' doesn't count). There's this incredibly depressing scene in, I think it was TFOH but it might have been the very start of LoC, where Elayne wants to talk to Min about something other than Rand and Min is just completely incapable of turning off the Rand-obsession long enough to think of a single good thing that doesn't revolve around Rand-Rand-Rand (the scene was not meant to be depressing but it definitely made me go 'yikes, Min, please get literally anything in your life that isn't about Rand').

22. So Min is off to the "Seanchan Empress" to tell her to send cavalry to the battlefield. Because Tuon is currently doing her best to hold back as many of her forces as she can and is negotiating them out piece-meal.

When she arrives at the Seanchan camp, Min notes how many forces are just lazing around doing nothing when they could be helping in the Last Battle. Min thinks for a moment that she wishes that she could have gone with Rand to Shayol Ghul but she has finally realized that she's only a liability to him in situations like that. Finally. I do note that apparently Rand had to 'forbid' her from going, though, so if he'd let her, she would have happily been a liability to him.

Anyway, Min was told by Rand to keep an eye on Fortuona, so I'll keep that in mind.

23. "Speak what criticism one would about the Seanchan -- and Min had a number of things she could add to that conversation -- they certainly were organized."

I really wish that Sanderson actually let Min think some of her specific criticisms about the Seanchan here rather than the narration veiling it. Because the way this is written ends up praising without critique, because the criticism remains politely unvoiced. One must always be polite about the slavers who want to dehumanize your friends and your lover, I guess.

Min was in Falme with Egwene! She actually saw Egwene being punished! She was even blamed for some of Egwene's punishments (which were all Renna's fault, of course, and not Min's) and she listened to Egwene scream and cry out in agony.

Let Min actually remember some of that in the text here rather than sweeping it all under the rug! She knows that the da'covale are slaves, for example, because she was in Falme. But instead of calling them slaves, she calls them "immodestly-dressed young women". Let Min actually have a thought here about how she disapproves of slavery! Put that on the record!

And Min thinking here that the Seanchan "couldn't possibly be as prickly as the Aiel". You... you literally listened to Egwene weeping in pain while she was being tortured for such crimes as "wanting to keep her own name" and "not wanting to be a slave" and "letting her friend visit her". wtf, Min.

24. Min has never seen Mat's hat before, but she thinks here that he has topped his new silken Seanchan outfit with his "familiar hat". I really do wonder if there was a draft of AMoL where Mat was in Merrilor, because then Min and Mat would have had a chance to meet back when Mat was in his old clothes and it would make sense for her to recognize his hat here. Because as it is, that's literally a nonsense thing for Min to think. The last time she saw Mat was at the end of book 2. Mat got his hat during book 4.

Min and Mat reunite like old buddies. They barely know each other. Let's tot up the times that they've met:

off-the-page in-between TGH and TDR, while Mat was dying from the dagger, in the handful of days that Mat was there before Verin took him & Elayne, Egwene, & Nynaeve off to the White Tower

That's it. That's the only entry. Mat didn't meet her in Baerlon -- Rand told him about her afterward. Apart from that, their only possible knowledge of each other comes from what Rand might have passed along. It is genuinely bizarre that they are behaving like old friends. They met once, almost two years ago, when one of them was dying. Mat has seen her having sex with Rand from time to time in his color swirl visions, but Min doesn't have access to that. They missed seeing each other in Caemlyn by four days, because Rand sends Mat off to Salidar before Min shows up with the embassy. They are the next best thing to complete strangers to each other, except that Mat has unintentionally seen Min naked several times.

It's Min and Perrin who have a friendship. It's funny, how Sanderson buffed up Perrin's friendships with Rand & Mat, but erased Perrin's friendship with Min. Perrin and Min, per canon, spent a lot of time talking to each other in between TGH & TDR (more time than either of them spent with Rand, who spent most of his time either brooding alone or arguing with Moiraine).

This is definitely "writing to the epilogue" convenience. But it could have made sense if Mat and Min had met back in the early chapters of the book while Mat was in Merrilor after he'd returned with Moiraine & Thom.

25. Mat tries to press Min for any new viewings about him. That's... interesting. Someone wants a new fate? I'm feeling curious about how Mat and Tuon's 'not pleasant' conversation went. Min deflects the conversation to viewings about the Seanchan general and I really don't care. Except to note that, sadly, Galgan probably won't try to kill Tuon because Mat is now the next one in the line of succession.

26. Why in the world would Min bow to Tuon? Seriously, girl, wtf. This is what I mean about how the narrative itself feels like it tiptoes around Tuon. Why would Min care so much about respecting Seanchan titles and nobility? She thinks here that she doesn't care about any other nobility but somehow the word 'Empress' triggers the worship reflex in her hindbrain or something? wtf. "It was only proper to show respect to Fortuona". Literally why? Why is the emphasis in Min's chapter about being polite to the slavers? Why is that the overriding vibe of this section -- Min's desire to make a good impression on the slavers? She didn't try this hard (or at all) with the Aiel. It's things like this that make me feel like Tuon must be ta'veren, because that feels like a thought that Tuon just plopped into Min's brain without permission.

Also, after Tuon enters literally just as Mat has mentioned her to Min, Mat then quotes "Say the name of Darkness, and his eye is upon you". Um. Yeah. So I feel like that 'not pleasant' conversation didn't go very well. (*whispers* he just compared his wife to the Dark One */whispers*).

He is also still using "Tuon" in casual conversation. And he doesn't get down on the floor, even though everyone else (including Min, for whatever reason) does.

27. And Mat is straight-up baiting Tuon in this conversation, or at least it feels that way (and using Min as a weapon while he does it). Yeah, I get the feeling that 'not pleasant' conversation went extremely poorly (was telling Tuon that Min is "the Dragon Reborn's woman" his way of trying to protect her from being poached by Tuon but Min didn't pick up on it? or was it his way of assuaging Tuon's raging jealousy issues by letting her know that Min is 'taken' and Mat doesn't plan on screwing her?)

I almost wonder if he's testing Tuon here -- seeing if her threats have any teeth? She told him that she could have him killed if he kept using the name 'Tuon' and he has not stopped, not even after the 'not pleasant' conversation. Kinda interesting that Mat seems considerably more combative with Tuon after their 'not pleasant' private discussion than he ever has been before. Wish we'd gotten to see that conversation (important moments, etc.).

Mat warns Min that Tuon snatches people up and doesn't let them go -- Min here thinks that Mat sounds "almost proud" but tbh I don't give Min much credit for her insight into people so I will take that with a grain of salt -- and yet Min (who can never resist blabbing about her viewings to everyone in sight) immediately spills about a viewing that someone is going to try to kill Tuon.

Literally why in the world would she bother to say anything? Why would she do this to herself? Rand said nothing about going out of her way to save the head slaver's life.

Min does have the habit of being swept up by people who have stronger personalities than she does -- Moiraine, then Siuan, then Rand, then Cadsuane, and now Tuon, I guess.

I do have to crack up at Min lying to herself and saying that she hasn't accidentally blabbed a viewing in years. Even if she doesn't remember blabbing Elayne's pregnancy to the entire royal palace of Caemlyn, she sleepily blabbed out Melaine's pregnancy without thinking about it too and we know she remembers that one because it was the whole basis for why the Wise Ones treated her as an ~honorary Wise One~ for, like, two books.

If Min didn't already have an established habit of constantly talking about her viewings, I would chalk this up to Tuon being ta'veren as well but... she does.

28. Tuon just goes up and touches Min's face without permission. Probably thinking about checking her teeth. Anyway, she pronounces Min a 'Doomseer' and Min has just screwed herself for the foreseeable future.

Tuon views Min as a "gift" that Mat has given her to "pay your penance" (presumably for not volunteering information about Egwene) so... yeah, that gives us some insight into the 'not pleasant' conversation. I wonder if Mat will think back to it at all in the next PoV we get from him. Probably not. I feel like I would remember that.

Tuon names Min as her new Truthspeaker, probably thrilled that she can now shove Selucia back into the box of not having any opinions that Tuon hasn't told her to have. Her emotional support slave was having too many independent thoughts and we can't have that.

Anyway, Min's viewings never really helped Rand, so she probably won't actually help Tuon much either, so I guess that's a relief.

But, yeah, not a fun situation for Min. Though I guess Mat now has company in his hellhole of a prison, so there's that.

...okay, now I've got "Two Lost Souls" from Damn Yankees in my head.

29. Just as Tam picked up on how Bashere's 'tactical mistakes' keep helping the Shadowspawn in the last section, Lan has picked out the same when it comes to his own 'great captain' -- two reserve forces were both sent to shore up the same hole in the lines, resulting in confusion and also the ranks being too thin in other places.

30. So, yeah, the set-up continues for Team Light to be forced to trust the General of the Slavers with the armies despite his recent horrible life choices. We note here that it has been 'weeks' for Lan now.

Lan countermands Agelmar's latest order, as he's realized how badly it would expose part of their army and compromise any potential retreat, so Lan has de facto taken over the army here, just as Elayne has over in the Cairhien/Caemlyn section of the battle.

31. Mat lets us know here Min has also been re-dressed in fancy Seanchan clothes. Apparently without any attempt to stick in her own clothes? She's an 'honored holy woman' per Tuon, so you would imagine means she has leverage to wear her own clothes if she wants. (of course, if it doesn't give her any leverage, then that would be useful information for the reader to have)

Anyway, we are back in Mat's head, for the first time since his disappointing reunion scene with Rand. We've seen him from the outside a few times since then -- in Tuon, Egwene, and finally Min's eyes.

Mat announces that he needs to go out and look at the actual battlefield. He thinks in his head that it's because the maps are "too simplistic" but I wonder if part of his motivation is taking a chance and getting some fresh air while his ~slaver bride~ is off doing "some empressly duty". I'm still curious about that 'not pleasant' conversation of 'many words' that they had after Tuon and Egwene met. He also yanks off part of his 'Seanchan uniform' here, leaving himself in his scarf, medallion, and breeches. He'd rather walk around shirtless than wear the fancy Seanchan duds, it seems.

(this life is going to make him so miserable)

32. Yeah, Min is now wearing a dress, with no apparent protest. Mat notes that she's pretty and then additionally notes that he needs to be careful with smiles around women now because his wife might stab him if he smiles too much at other women. So, yeah, I'm thinking part of the 'not pleasant' conversation was Tuon making her jealousy issues very very clear to Mat. But despite Mat's protests that hooking up with Rand means that Min is "practically his sister", his narration does make it clear that he's attracted to her.

(this life is going to make him so miserable)

"Mat had always considered Min on the boyish side" - you met her one time! During the foggy period of your memory when you were dying! The narration really is behaving like Perrin and Mat's friendships have been swapped around in this book -- Perrin is the one who has the stronger friendships with Rand and Elayne now; while Mat now has the stronger friendship with Min. Before this book, the opposite was true of all of those things. I guess we can assume that this is about Rand & Min screwing in the color swirls but Min would have been at least partly naked for a lot of those.

33. Anyway, Mat had his own clothes hidden away and changes into them now, when Tuon isn't here to protest, and then sneaks off to look at the battlefield before she can come back to berate him again. Lessons learned from his time with Tylin?

(Min does say here that she's tempted to strip off too, but she keeps wearing the Seanchan clothes for whatever reason)

We do also learn here the very important information that the Seanchan guards respond to bribes (Mat bribed them into keeping and hiding his clothes for him here). Though Mat also notes that it's only the free guards and not the slaves.

34. It's so sad here that Mat has to feel grateful that Tuon "understood that [Mat] needed" the foxhead medallion and returned it to him. He's grateful that he's allowed to use his own personal items and that she didn't permanently keep what she'd stolen from him.

(this life is going to make him so miserable)

...hmm. I'm going to keep an eye on the medallions. Because technically Mat has two right now (his original and a copy that Elayne made), but he hasn't mentioned the second one at all.

35. Sadly, going for Pips means that "unfortunately, someone had time to alert" Tuon that Mat was slipping away, and so she comes to confront him (so I was right about part of the reason behind him bailing on the command tent was trying to get away from Tuon).

Mat once again warns Min that it's very dangerous here: "they know how to treat a fellow, as long as they don't behead him. I'm still trying to figure out how to prevent that from happening."

Hmm, Mat gives Min the "sell" on staying with the Seanchan... he says that it would help Rand because she can attempt to mislead Tuon about her 'omens' to try to guide Tuon onto a less-awful path. I imagine that's how Mat is justifying his own choices too but we saw that when he actually had a chance to try to guide Tuon onto a better path, he froze and said nothing while Rand did all the negotiating. But Mat does make it clear here that he still disapproves of what the Seanchan are doing; he's just... sticking around and helping anyway for whatever reason.

But, yeah, "lie to Tuon to try to subtly direct her choices" being part of Mat's advice to Min is... illuminating, to be sure. Did Mat lie to/mislead Tuon during their recent 'not pleasant' private discussion?

36. Yeah, we see here very directly that Mat doesn't always mean what he says around Tuon, when he pretends to be happy that she's coming along with him to survey the battlefield while "groaning inside". This is what I was talking about back when I was questioning all of the other character's interpretations of Mat's behavior in the previous few chapters -- most of the characters in the books are not very good at reading Mat. Tuon has failed to accurately judge him on multiple occasions, Egwene will always at least partly see him as the troublemaker from her hometown, and Min barely knows him.

Also, Mat was expecting to be berated for changing his clothes but Tuon says nothing about it at this time. Hey, Min, maybe you should take the opportunity to change yours too?

It is good to see Mat attempting to push back on Tuon, even if it's on relatively minor things.

It really is the decision to make Mat a deserter that screwed his characterization over so hard in this book. If Mat had gone to Merrilor and then gone to Ebou Dar, pretty much everything would make more sense. There's only a couple of scenes so far that have 'needed' Mat to be a willing traitor in order to play out the way that they did (mostly just Egwene's shock at seeing him hanging out with the Seanchan) and almost everything else would make more sense if Mat had gone back to Ebou Dar as a negotiator on behalf of the Westlands.

37. On the minus side, we have some really weird stuff here where Mat dehumanizes one of the Seanchan generals for the crime of being a woman that he doesn't want to fuck. While Mat did start basically thinking about every woman that he met in terms of fuckability back around... A Crown of Swords, I want to say... he didn't act like 'not being fuckable' made women unpeople and he's kinda going that way here and it's super gross.

38. On her own front in the battlefield, Egwene sees a huge tactical blunder by Bryne that leaves one of their flanks wide-open to the enemy and vulnerable, and now she is also going to go question him, as it looked distinctly like he set up a trap that benefited the Shadowspawn. So that's all of the fronts except Ituralde (who is just outside of Shayol Ghul).

After questioning Agelmar, Lan suspects it is Compulsion that is behind his recent poor battle decisions, and Lan has him relieved from duty. Also, Tenobia conveniently gets killed on the battlefield and brings Faile one step closer to ruling Saldaea.

39. Back with Mat, Tuon, Min, and Selucia. Poor Selucia. She got half a book of being allowed to have her own opinions but now she's just Tuon's Voice/bodyguard again and gets to speak no words but Tuon's.

Min is obediently telling Tuon all her viewings and her interpretations of them, just like she always does when she's under the thumb of someone with a more forceful personality than her own. This is kinda why I feel like Mat's hope that she will lead Tuon onto better paths is likely not going to pan out -- because Min's viewings do not have a moral component, not that we're aware of, and she is spilling them all out indiscriminately.

And Tuon will likely continue to be her own horrible self, no matter what viewings Min has. But I guess we'll see how that relationship plays out.

Min has not only told Tuon all the viewings she had about Tuon but also her viewings about Mat, over Mat's protests. Min likes to claim that she doesn't do things like that, but wow, she does it all the time. It does feel like fandom doesn't really acknowledge that both Min & Perrin lie about themselves in their own heads just as much as Mat or Nynaeve do. Min believes that she's discreet about her viewings, when she's a blabbermouth most of the time, and Perrin believes that he thinks things through before he acts, when he's actually wildly reckless and impulsive pretty frequently.

40. It's interesting that Min and Mat greeted each other like old friends yet are now essentially working at cross-purposes -- Mat suggested to Min that ('for Rand') she mislead Tuon in order to craft a narrative that would make Tuon soften towards Aes Sedai (and also more minor things like "try to get her to stop wanting to get rid of my hat") but Min, like Galad, wants to be rigidly honest and is telling Tuon everything, not giving a care that she's telling Tuon other people's secrets (and we know she's telling real secrets, because she's now told Tuon all of Mat's old viewings that we know from before, against Mat's express wishes). So Min is essentially unintentionally teaching Mat that she is not an ally to him and that she will sell him out to Tuon if he confides in her. Which means that Mat is, once again, all alone in the middle of an enemy camp that he feels obligated to stay in (now matter how unhappy it makes him) Because Wife.

Mat and Tuon really is peak "enforced heterosexual monogamy" culture. They explicitly are married due not to their own desires but to external pressures (the prophecies) and feel obligated to stick it out even though, on Tuon's side, she feels like she has a wildly chaotic husband that she doesn't know how to control and, on Mat's side, everything about the situation is constantly making him miserable. I believe he thinks at one point (in some future chapter?) that he could be happy if it was just him and Tuon in a life far away from the Seanchan but... that really is him picturing himself and his Fictional Tuon character (not cold, not possessive, Not Like The Other Seanchan) rather than himself and Actual Fortuona. I'm sure Mat and his fake Tuon could find happiness running away from the throne, but fake Tuon doesn't exist so... yeah.

41. Mat is able to get "five minutes" by himself and rides down to talk to Perrin's slaver BFF Tylee. Much like Egwene had just realized, Mat learns here from Tylee that Bryne is making bad calls that are compromising his army.

*sigh*

Mat stuffs himself into Seanchan armor at this point. Well, he had a spine about wearing his own clothing for, like, five minutes. Maybe that's all we can hope for out of him these days. It is at least real 'on the field' armor rather than the ceremonial silk this time.

Also: Tuon's desire to constantly be keeping an eye on Mat vs Mat's desire to have some breathing room seems like a fight in their marriage that is going to reoccur a lot.

42. Anyway, Mat goes to personally take a unit out to relieve Bryne's soldiers because it looks like they've gotten very bad orders and he needs to correct them personally. I... don't have an issue with this apart from the whole "ugh, Seanchan" thing? Mat can see that the battle is going extremely poorly and wants to investigate from the inside because from what he can see, it looks like the general in charge is deliberately ordering bad tactics. That's not something that Mat can fix simply by sending contrary orders because he is not the main general of this battlefield. Bryne is. So Mat going out to take direct control of a specific part so that he can, essentially, undermine Bryne's bad orders before he goes to deal with the root of the issue makes sense because this is a time-sensitive situation.

Tylee tries to give Mat some damane slaves for the battle and he refuses.

Once again, like it did in Min's PoV, the narrative has yet another character praise the Seanchan's sense of organization while implying that the character has critiques about the Seanchan but not mentioning the specific issues that they have. Actually let Mat share his critiques about the Seanchan with the reader! Stop veiling the critiques behind "oh, I have some issues but I won't say what they are".

43. Mat is really really attracted to the enemy Sharan channeler. Until she tries to kill him but, yeah, he literally stops and stares at the channeler on the opposing side. Though that doesn't stop him from knocking her out with his spear when her weaves fail on him and he's able to get close.

*resigned sigh*

After this battle, Mat is now willing to throw damane slaves at the enemy.

Mat has also really really impressed the Ever Victorious Army. Something to keep in mind for post-canon 'Mat conducts a coup' thoughts. Between Egwene feeling like Tuon has accidentally gotten herself trapped in Mat's ta'veren web, Tuon's own "[Mat] would never be a rival" thoughts, how swiftly Mat is winning over the officers, and Mat's own words to Min about how she should craft a narrative to deceive Tuon into behaving the way she wants her to behave... there are some interesting puzzle pieces here for a post-canon "Mat deposes Tuon and takes over the Seanchan Empire" or "Mat tricks Tuon into thinking she's in charge while he's the real power in the Empire" storyline.

I really wish that Sanderson & Team Jordan hadn't made Mat a deserter at the start of the book; it really did start Mat off on such a bad foot, narratively-speaking, by weighting him so heavily on the side of the slavers without any kind of narrative justification for the choice (we still don't know how Mat got to Ebou Dar originally -- Sanderson really was like "okay, it makes no sense, so I'll just let readers fill in a reason that they can justify to themselves"). But even with that massive off-the-page weighting on the side of the slavers, Mat is listing back towards the Westlands side of things (as he has done time and time again). Over and over, Mat gets forcibly yanked over towards the Seanchan and then starts drifting away from them again (requiring another heavy-handed course-correction from the Authors).

44. Mat does change back into his "Two Rivers" coat here. ...wait, Mat's coat is a "Two Rivers" coat? When did that happen? When did Mat go back to the Two Rivers to get a coat? Or did he get it from Perrin's army? Anyway, he did change back into his own clothes after the battle.

Oh! Oh, this must be a coat that Elayne's person picked out for him (as per his request in ToM)! Elayne's person found him a Two Rivers coat? She really is magic. I love her.

Mat does realize here that the Sharan channeler that he captured is almost certainly going to end up damane. Should have just killed her.

45. Tuon is currently so pissed at Mat that she's only speaking to him through Selucia (now back in her role as Tuon's opinionless Voice). Mat notes this as a 'bad sign' but he also does keep calling her Tuon. Maybe he doesn't back down and start referring to her formally as she told him to do; maybe that was something that my memory was incorrect on, which would be nice.

"Your life is no longer your own," Tuon tells him through Selucia. I wonder if that's also part of the reason that Mat went out on the battlefield -- a way of declaring that his life is his own, even if that means potentially throwing it away.

Mat references Nynaeve here -- I'm not sure whether or not Tuon got Nynaeve's name in the conversation she had with Rand and Nynaeve back in TGS. I'll go check.

Yep, Rand says Nynaeve's name when she chastises him for trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Mat in front of Tuon. So Tuon knows that Mat is talking about a channeler here.

46. Yikes. Tuon 'gives' the Sharan channeler that Mat captured to him as his own personal damane slave. He tries to give her back to Tuon (also gross and yikes) but Tuon won't let him. Mat does refer to her as a channeler and not marath'damane but... ugh. But this is the continuation of Tuon's campaign to brainwash and integrate Mat into being fully-Seanchan, so her actions here are no surprise.

Mat is now given control of the Seanchan armies over Galgan, and they send Min back to Egwene to tell her that Bryne is helping the Shadow with how he's behaving with the army.

47. So things are incredibly dire and yet there have been no thoughts of "wow wish Mat were here to blow the Horn of Valere". It's so bizarre that everyone is just completely chill with a powerful artifact that is literally meant for the Last Battle to be just hanging out unusable!

Anyway, the Black Tower Asha'man show up here to relieve Elayne's people, who are sorely pressed.

Here's my thought: I think Sanderson was too much in love with the whole "on the very edge of being broken, the cavalry shows up" idea aka Gandalf coming to save the day at Minas Tirith. Not everything needs to be last second like that. If everything is dramatic then nothing is truly dramatic. In real life, you wouldn't wait until after the point of hope to blow the horn that brings a magic army to fight on your side. You would want to do it as soon as it looks like your own forces aren't going to be enough.

48. Min stayed dressed in all her Seanchan finery to go deliver her message to Egwene. Min's conversation with Egwene is so bizarrely tone-deaf on Min's side of things? She complains about being ~pampered~ by the Seanchan and that their rich food isn't to her taste and when Egwene ~reminds her~ that Egwene has 'enjoyed' Seanchan 'hospitality', Min is basically just "Oops, yeah, my bad, oh well, back to business."

Wow, Min's lack of empathy for the horrific trauma that she witnessed Egwene going through is kinda shocking.

For your consideration, Min in Falme:

When Min asks Egwene not to kill herself out of despair, Egwene tells her that she physically can't. That she can't use anything that she thinks of as a weapon.

She tells Min:

"A few weeks ago I considered hitting Renna over the head with that pitcher, and I could not pour wash water for three days. Once I'd thought of it that way, I not only had to stop thinking about hitting her with it, I had to convince myself I would never, under any circumstances, hit her with it before I could touch it again. She knew what had happened, told me what I had to do, and would not let me wash anywhere except with that pitcher and bowl. You are lucky it happened between your visiting days. Renna made sure I spent those days sweating from the time I woke to the time I fell asleep, exhausted. I am trying to fight them, but they are training me as surely as they’re training Pura.” She clapped a hand to her mouth, moaning through her teeth. “Her name is Ryma. I have to remember her name, not the name they've put on her. She's Ryma, and she's Yellow Ajah, and she has fought them as long and as hard as she could. It is no fault of hers that she hasn't the strength left to fight any longer. I wish I knew who the other sister is that Ryma mentioned. I wish I knew her name. Remember us both, Min. Ryma, of the Yellow Ajah, and Egwene al'Vere. Not Egwene the damane; Egwene al'Vere of Edmond's Field.' "

...

The door swung open, and Renna stepped in.

Egwene jumped to her feet and bowed sharply, as did Min. The tiny room was crowded for bowing, but Seanchan insisted on protocol before comfort.

"Your visiting day, is it?" Renna said. "I had forgotten. Well, there is training to be done even on visiting days."

...

Renna puts on the bracelet and senses that Egwene was channeling without permission:

"You have been channeling." Renna's voice was deceptively mild; there was a spark of anger in her eyes. "You know that is forbidden except when we are complete." Egwene wet her lips. "Perhaps I have been too lenient with you. Perhaps you believe that because you are valuable now, you will be allowed license. I think I made a mistake in letting you keep your old name. I had a kitten name Tuli when I was a child. From now on, your name is Tuli. You will go now, Min. Your visiting day with Tuli is ended."

Min hesitated only long enough for one anguished look at Egwene before leaving.

...

Then, in Min's PoV right after she leaves the room:

Outside in the low-ceilinged hallway, Min dug her nails into her palms at the first piercing cry from the room. She took a step towards the door before she could stop herself, and when she did stop, tears sprang up in her eyes. Light help me, all I can do is make it worse. Egwene, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Feeling worse than useless, she picked up her skirts and ran, and Egwene's screams pursued her. She could not make herself stay, and leaving made her feel a coward. Half blind with weeping, she found herself in the street before she knew it. She had intended to go back to her room, but now she could not do it. She could not stand the thought that Egwene was being hurt while she sat warm and safe under the next roof. Scrubbing the tears from her eyes, she swept her cloak around her shoulders and started down the street. Every time she cleared her eyes, new tears began trickling along her cheeks. She was not accustomed to weeping openly, but then she was not accustomed to feeling so helpless, so useless. She did not know where she was going, only that it had to be as far as she could reach from Egwene's cries.

Compare all that to Min right now: wearing Seanchan silks and whining about how their fanciest food isn't to her liking.

Anyway, she delivers her message from Mat, and Egwene says that she'll take it under consideration.

49. In Ituralde's PoV, we learn about the kinds of nightmares that Graendal has been putting in their heads, and the kinds of thoughts. Three separate times, Ituralde has almost given an order for his men to engage in a direct assault against the Shadowspawn but then been able to pull back again before he gave the Graendal-influenced order, so he's doing better than the other captains. I wonder if his experience in getting all those confusing messages from 'his king' (but actually Graendal) is helping him here. We see him fighting the urge to give one of those bad orders now and he's fighting it extremely hard and then Perrin shows up before he gives in and says it. And Ituralde is so relieved to give up his command because he can tell that something is wonky with his own thinking!

50. Egwene notices that Gawyn doesn't seem tired but he does seem 'strangely pale'. :-(

Thinking about Mat makes Egwene feel "strangely sick". That is such the mood when talking about post-WH Mat, yeah. We are twinsies in this feeling, Egwene. But after thinking it through and remembering the times when Mat has come through when needed, she decides that she is going to trust him, though it makes her feel like she's a fool for doing it. "Mat could be wrong. He was often wrong. But when he was right, he saved lives." and "[Mat] was a scoundrel and a fool but she trusted him. Light help her, but she did. She trusted him with her life."

Not sure Mat deserves that right now, tbh, but it's a sweet thought from Egwene.

And maybe he does.

I'm thinking about 'a ribbon that felt like a chain'. Thinking about Mat considering his father's advice for dealing with cheats during a trade. Thinking about Mat telling Min to pick and choose between her viewings to attempt to guide Tuon onto a better path. Thinking about Mat putting on a Two Rivers coat during the Last Battle.

Maybe he does.

I guess we'll see.

The ultimate factor, once Egwene realizes that Bryne was Compelled, is that she knows that Mat cannot be touched by saidar or saidin, so he is the only general they can trust not to be corrupted by the Forsaken.

[campbyler]

acswy ch04 update

hi! you might have seen this coming, but chapter 4 is getting pushed back to being posted tomorrow, august 5th, due to Life Life-ing and wanting to make sure that this update lives up to the same quality we've been bringing you for the past 3 chapters! we apologize for the inconvenience and any disappointment this may bring, but we promise, it will be worth the wait <3

to tide you over, please enjoy the following extended snippet from chapter 4, beneath the cut:

As the name implies, the Isolation Cabin sits, isolated, at the very top of the trail all of the other cabins are grouped off of, right at the edge of Camp Whiteman property. Most of this area is taken up by woods, towering pines of various shapes and sizes keeping a watchful eye over all of them – save for the small ropes course tucked in behind the girls’ cabins, the rest of the area remains untouched. Even the trail itself practically stops, spreading out into a clearing that they sometimes use for recreational activities, when pressed for space.

If you know where to look, though – and Mike has made knowing where to look his business – there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sign indicating the start the small path leading to the Isolation Cabin, identical to all of the other informational markers throughout the campground. A chain connects the two trees bracketing the entrance to the walkway, a small wooden notice hanging from the center that reads, in ominous, capital letters: DO NOT ENTER.

Mike has never particularly cared about it before now, only ever acknowledging that the area existed when one of his campers inevitably let curiosity get the best of them and started wandering places they shouldn’t be. He’s tapped a finger against that sign more times than he can count, watched the chain shake with the movement and the sign swing back and forth and his campers’ eyes go big as he wiggled his fingers at them and made spooky noises to get them to scurry away and steer clear. 

Now, he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Hopper pushes past where Will has paused, pouting, and moves to unclip the chain blocking the way. The links jingle together as he smiles at them, all too cheerily, and says, “Lead the way, boys.” 

Mike tries to catch Will’s eye, because if there’s one thing they can always agree on, it’s a shared, unspoken, is this guy serious? – but Will still won’t look at him, breezing past Hopper, once again, before he has a chance to even finish his sentence. Mike sends his is this guy serious? look to Hopper instead, who smiles brightly at him and shakes the chain pointedly, all clinks of metal and clattering of wood and an unspoken response of get going, Wheeler. 

Things are truly bleak, Mike thinks, if he’s getting along with Will’s dad better than he’s getting along with Will himself. Still, neither of them indulged his is this guy serious? look, so he does roll his eyes, thank you very much, and starts up the trail after Will, more acquainted than ever with the back of his stupid, dumb head. The sound of the chain clicking back into place follows soon after, but Mike doesn’t look back, feeling petulant and slighted. 

It’s really not a long walk to get to the cabin – two, maybe three minutes at most – but it feels like it is, by virtue of the path narrowing out, of woodchips giving way to earthy, forest floor. The foliage has started to thicken, shrouding them from the setting sun, and the silence feels like a fourth member of their party, awkward and palpable as they make their way up the trail. It’s not long before the trees start to part enough to offer a glimpse of their destination: the Isolation Cabin, in all of its isolated, lonely glory.

Mike hasn’t ever actually been up here, since he never had any reason to before now, and he’s almost disappointed, as they come up on the clearing in front of the cabin’s steps. Part of him expected something straight out of a horror movie – all dilapidated, breaking shingles, broken windows, a wrought iron fence, maybe a bat or two – and is disappointed to find it’s – a cabin, just like every other cabin they left behind on their way up here. It is a little worse for wear – the tone of the wood a little more desaturated, the bushes lining the porch overgrown, the dust clouding the windows visible, even from here – but it’s just a cabin, at the end of the day. A manifestation of punishment, where happy children and their dreams of a perfect summer go to die, but no more menacing than the Blue Cabin is right now, with how pissed Mitchell is at him. 

He’s always taken those overactive imagination comments on his grade school report cards as a compliment, but now it’s left him feeling a little disappointed. 

“Alright,” Hopper says from behind them, and both Mike and Will whip around to face him, duffels flying with the momentum and knocking into each other. This earns him a certified Will Byers Glare, which warrants a certified Mike Wheeler Dramatic, Theatrical Eye Roll, which causes an Act Now! Once In A Lifetime Opportunity! bucket drop from Hopper, and the sound of it hitting the forest floor and its contents clanging inside cause them both to snap their heads back to where Hopper is looking at them, somehow both amused and completely and utterly done with their shit at the same time. “Welcome to the Isolation Cabin.”

[ncfan-1]

Don’t mind me, just thinking about Osha and how her feelings of loss, shame, and anger all feed each other.

Osha who plainly has missed Mae terribly for the sixteen years she thought her to be dead, but was too ashamed to admit it, even to herself. Because who does that? Who misses their sister when their sister killed their entire family and tried to kill them to keep them from going away? Even if their sister died in the attempt, who misses them? Osha’s too ashamed to admit that she does miss Mae because to miss Mae feels like a betrayal of her mother, her extended family, herself. So she gets angry with herself and deals with that anger by projecting it outwards, onto Mae. She’s clearly spent sixteen years building Mae up in her head as some sort of monstrous demon child who had no redeeming qualities, a bad seed rotten from the start, trying to tell herself these things so she won’t miss Mae, and yet she still does. She gets angry with Mae for destroying her childhood… which makes her long for the family she’s lost, the ruined childhood she could only flee from. Which includes Mae. Which just sends the cycle looping back around to shame, and anger, before longing for all she’s lost, including Mae, rears its head again, and the shame and anger find her again, and… you get it.

And now, Sol, too.

We’ll never see it, because we can’t have nice things, but yeah, Sol.

Osha will miss Sol terribly, too, and will be too ashamed to admit it. Because who does that? Who misses the man who killed their mother and framed their sister for it? Who misses the man who ruined their life, lied to them for sixteen years, and didn’t even apologize for it when found out? Who misses the man they killed when they found all of this out? Osha won't be able to admit that she misses Sol because to miss Sol feels like a betrayal of her mother whom he killed, Mae whom he slandered and pitted her against, and herself, whom he deceived. And maybe Osha will tell herself things about Sol the way she plainly told herself things about Mae, maybe she’ll just try to dismiss him. Tell herself that she never really loved him, and that he never really loved her. And she’ll still miss him, and she’ll still be ashamed, and she’ll be angry with herself and push that anger outwards, projecting it onto Sol, try to erase all memory of his better qualities from her mind like she tried to do with Mae, and in all of this anger, Osha will find herself struck with longing for everything she’s lost—which includes Sol. Which will just send her cycling back around to shame, to anger… to grief. And probably never to break that cycle.

[shakyhandz]

The Dead Three’s Chosen - Re-Animator Style

Okay so, big thoughts are happening.

I would like to propose this quaint imagine. Please suspend your disbelief for some out of character ness that may occur in this scenario.

We’ll start with Doctor Herbert West, Chosen of Bhaal, wizard interested in the re-animated living - necromancy. He would be an unwilling chosen from the start. Not because he’s adverse to murder, really he doesn’t mind, but because the blood of Bhaal makes him a bit more impulsive, and he ends up killing his test subjects before he can progress his research. It’s all very inconvenient, you see.

I feel like Bhaal would like West as a chosen, for the most part. I don’t see him as a murderous beast, lusting for blood, and committing murder sprees. But I do see him killing people and using their corpses to kill more people. And being a bhaalspawn, I’m sure there’s a dark urge that drives his curiosity to disassemble bodies and put them back together. I imagine his lab looking a bit like Balthazar’s lab.

Bhaal himself can animate the dead and talk through them, and I just have this bit in my head of Bhaal possessing some of the corpses West re animates so that he can talk to West, as West isn’t going to pray/commune with him anytime soon. The dynamic is like a rebellious son ignoring his father, “stop ignoring me, son” Bhaal would say, and it would piss West off every time.

While I’ve seen it be said that Bhaal hates necromancy, as it’s giving life to something already dead, I’d argue that Bhaal would see the necromancy as a good thing as long as it was a means to more death. “Life is strength if it means you can use it to end more lives” - Bhaal, probably. And we know that West has no problem mixing murder with his necromancy.

But that’s the thing, West doesn’t want his re-animated corpses to be mindless murder zombies, he wants to actually perfect the art of necromancy, create actual life. And it drives his father absolutely mad. The deity painfully hand sculpted this man to make him his perfect murderous son, only for him to become obsessed with the one thing he’ll never grasp for long - the living.

Enter, Doctor Daniel Cain, Death Cleric and Chosen of Myrkul. Cain didn’t start out as a Myrkul worshipper, he first was a life cleric of Kelemvor. However, a particularly traumatic event (perhaps a girlfriend dies, driving him to madness. or maybe he starts to dabble in magic that Kelemvor doesn't approve of and causes something horrible to happen) leads him to switch his faith. Those who turn to Myrkul usually experience a lot of death in their lives. It has to be something very upsetting for him to switch like that.

If you have other ideas as to how he came to be Myrkul’s chosen, feel free to share.

Those who worship Myrkul typically have these views - death is inevitable, natural, and should be embraced, but also respected- feared.

Perhaps Cain is fueling his faith for Myrkul due to a personal fear of death that he holds. More so for the fear for others. Or perhaps Cain seeks a way to extend the life of other people through Myrkul, I know the deity is all about the acceptance of death, but the deity has been known to extend lives of the living if it suits his cause.

I can’t really think of a solid reason as to why Cain would choose to worship Myrkul, at least not before all the events that go down in the movie, LOL, he’s a lot more jaded after.

It is also said that worshippers seek to give comfortable deaths to people, so perhaps in this scenario instead of Cain being a “healing” doctor, he’s more of a “quality of life” doctor. He’s going to manage your pain levels, sit “death-watch” beside you in your last hours, and make you as comfortable as you can be for when you inevitably pass.

Perhaps he finds an odd peace helping others in this way, easing the suffering and burdens that many carry to their end.

Next, we have Doctor Carl Hill, Chosen of Bane, a paladin who has broken his hippocratic oath, LOL (idea was given by a commenter on a previous post.)

Hill actively chooses to worship his god. He’s a powerful hypnotist and specializes in matters of the brain (idk what people of Faerûn would consider a “brain doctor” but he’s that.) He’s controlling, conniving, and holds political clout inside of Baldur’s gate.

If we are following the story of the game, I’m imagining him coming up with the idea to enslave the elder brain instead of the durge. Or maybe he does peek at West’s notes and steals some of his ideas about it. I’m also thinking about the brains that are hooked up to the steel watch, very Dr. Hill coded.

Now, when the summons for these three chosen are issued by their gods, West is very keen on ignoring the call. Perhaps West also has a butler in this scenario that desperately tries to convince him to work with the other chosen, but West really isn’t interested.

So the ever diligent butler takes it upon himself to go knocking on the doors of the other chosen (spawning into their abodes unannounced) and, agonizingly, asks them to seek out West themselves.

Hill will think himself above such a task, more concerned with his work than for that sorry excuse of a chosen, at least by his standards. Really, does Bane not consider him powerful enough to do this on his own? Ridiculous.

Cain, on the other hand, agrees to fetch West. He could seek him out for many reasons, maybe he doesn’t like the idea of working with Hill and wants to see what this other guy is all about. Maybe he knows about West already, or has heard about his research. And then they meet.

I’m thinking they meet while West is animating one of those hairless cats, maybe many of them, and it’s running around, bouncing off the laboratory walls, and Cain kills it dead with a spell. And West gets so pissed and upset at this absolute nobody coming in and crushing one of his experiments. And Cain’s all like “oh sorry, I thought you were in trouble, here” and revives the dead cat again for him. But West is like “No! It’s not the same! There’s a better way” or whatever because I assume Myrkul’s magic isn’t gonna do what West wants. Myrkul’s magic is more about bringing back the body rather than the mind, if that makes sense.

So Cain is like “oh, better? For real?” Because Cain got into the whole Myrkul business (I assume) to bring back a loved one or something along those lines, so he’s like “tell me more.” And so West goes “okay” and then he kills the cat again. And then shows Cain some of his experiments. And well, I’m sure it doesn’t take long to become “roommates” again.

Let’s bring it back to Dr. Hill. In this scenario there is no Orin to throw a wrench in everyone’s perfect plans. Hill is our Orin. If we are going straight off of the game events, He’s going to be the one to go after West and try to off him. He’s going to steal all his research and leave him for dead. Whether or not he loses his memories, I’ll leave that for you all to decide in your own imagines.

I’m also thinking, if West gets wormed and tossed aside, Cain is gonna have some inner turmoil. To combat the loneliness or whatever, I’d say Cain brings Megan back to life, sorta like Isobel. During this time of West being M.I.A, Hill steals her away, leaving Cain seething mad and grief stricken all over again. That’s the emotional state Cain is in when West encounters him again.

If West doesn’t remember Cain, I feel like Cain would lay it all out for him. And tell him what Hill did. And so West is ofc going to seek revenge, and Cain is all for it.

If West does remember all the events upon meeting Cain again, I feel like he would be a bit miffed that Cain decided to turn to Megan instead of looking for West’s dead body and re animating him instead. I doubt he’d tell Cain that but I feel like, deep down, he’d be a bit jealous of his dead girlfriend. And so ofc he’s going to want to kill Hill, but also, he’ll probably plot to get rid of Megan too lol.

And that’s it! Those are my thoughts on the topic for now. Ofc I have little mini scenarios in my head about everything but that’s rough idea as a whole. Personally, for this scenario, idk if I would have it follow the game story line, I like to imagine these three on the set of a morbid rom-com doctor show where they run the most diabolical hospital in the name of the dead three LMAO.

Anyway, as always I’d love to hear your thoughts and input. If it inspires you to create your own art or stories, regardless if it follows this imagine, I’d really like to see because I’m so into this crossover.

[glorf1ndel]

You Remind Me of My Brother (~900 words, gen)

For Day 1 of @tolkiengenweek, inspired by the prompt "mentorship." Peregrin Took, as seen through Boromir and Faramir's eyes. Or: the time Pippin kicked Boromir's ass.

Read on Ao3 or below!

In early January of the year 3019, on an outcrop deep in the wilds, Peregrin Took and Boromir spar on the long journey to Mordor. The rest of the Fellowship is eating breakfast, but Pippin is anxious to learn the art of swordsmanship. Besides, he’s already scarfed down three helpings of rabbit. When Boromir knocks the hobbit down for the third time in a row, Pippin almost regrets eating. (Almost.) He leaps to his feet and brushes himself off, ready to try again.

Boromir lands another blow, and Pippin falls to the ground.

“This is ridiculous. I could kick Boromir’s ass,” Pippin whispers to Merry – a bit too loudly, because Boromir himself bursts out laughing and says,

“With a little more practice.”

Pippin swerves around.

“Oh, you don’t think I can do it, can you?” He asks, then bats at Boromir’s leg with his wooden sword. “Take that!”

Boromir, to his credit, collapses, still chucking. Merry rolls his eyes, but he, too, is smiling. Pippin extends a hand to Boromir in triumph, helping him to his feet.

“You have a determined heart, Pippin of the Shire,” Boromir marvels. “In fact, you remind me of my brother.”

“Really?” Pippin beams. “What’s he like?”

“His name is Faramir. He is a good warrior, but what he is best known for among the soldiers of Gondor is his desire to better himself. As a child, he constantly sought our father’s approval. I think he still does,” Boromir says with a sigh. “Our father is… Not the most reassuring man. He appreciates strength, not effort, and he has always gone out of his way to make that clear to Faramir.”

Pippin purses his lips, brow furrowed in thought.

“But what is significant about my brother,” Boromir continues, “Is that he is always striving to do more, to be more. He longs to live up to our father’s expectations, but more than that, his goal is to look in the mirror and feel proud of himself. That’s what makes him a person of quality.”

At this, Pippin nods.

“I think I understand,” he says. “Your brother never gives up.”

“That’s right. It’s why I admire him so.”

“I hope I can meet him someday,” Pippin muses. “And when I do, I’ll tell him all about the time I beat you in a fight.”

“Will you?” Boromir grins. “Then you’d better keep practicing!”

As it turns out, their practices are cut short, and neither of them makes it to Mordor.

After Amon Hen, Pippin mourns Boromir. Continuing the Fellowship’s journey feels wrong when they’ve lost a fellow. Aragorn explains that such is the nature of grief, a hole in one’s life that expands and contracts but never goes away. Pippin has never felt an emotion as big as this before –

Until he gazes into the Palantír and sees the Eye, and he understands fear. Pippin tells the enemy nothing, save for a constant plea to get out of his head. (And a few choice curse words.) Still, the disappointment in Gandalf’s eyes is evident, so when the wizard insists that Pippin travel with him to Minas Tirith, what can the hobbit do but oblige? Besides, Pippin is curious about the capital of Gondor, and it’s not the same sort of curiosity that drove him to look into the Palantír.

Minas Tirith, Pippin thinks, was Boromir’s home.

When Pippin meets Faramir, he sees the truth of Boromir’s words: his brother is determined, and their father, the Steward of Gondor, doesn’t appreciate him. Gandalf doesn’t know what possesses Pippin to pledge his allegiance to Denethor, but Pippin sees the sad look in the man’s eyes, and Aragorn’s words resound inside his head: grief never goes away.

The war goes on. Pippin continues to train. He walks beside Faramir as Guard of the Citadel, and he befriends this man whose gaze is an echo of Boromir’s: softer, but fierce at its core.

Then the siege of the city begins, and Denethor goes mad. Pippin stands in the funeral chamber, unsettled. He knows what it’s like to feel an all-consuming feeling – but when he sees Denethor climb onto the pyre and the guards drag Faramir’s body into the chamber, he realizes that something is wrong. For Pippin can see the rise and fall of Faramir’s chest, weak though his breathing is. Would Denethor take himself and his only living son to the grave?

“No,” Pippin sobs, clawing at Denethor’s robes. “Don’t do this to yourself. He’s alive – he’s alive!”

Pippin is promptly kicked out of the chamber, but he doesn’t yield. Gandalf will know what to do,he thinks. Sure enough, with the wizard’s help, Pippin rescues Faramir. They are unable to do the same for Denethor, and the sight of him on fire, running toward his own destruction, burns itself into Pippin’s mind more deeply than the image of the Eye ever could.

Days pass. Pippin does not leave Faramir’s bedside until he wakes. The hobbit has been more loyal to Faramir than anyone else in the man’s life, save for Boromir. Yet Pippin still does not expect it when Faramir opens his eyes, smiles at the sight of him, and murmurs,

“You, Peregrin Took, remind me of my brother.”

Pippin laughs – he even cries, a little – and then he says,

“Well, then. Let me tell you about the time I kicked his ass.”

****

Thank you for reading. ♡ If you'd like, leave a comment or kudos on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!

[cosmicjoke]

kind of off the topic of your blog but you are politically active and i wonder what are ypur thoughts on the AI

i think the most concerning use of it is people using it to generate nudes etc

the whole taylor swift drama yk

also som time ago a girl killed herself because of AI generated nudes of her (poor girl)

AI also just kills art and it saddens me so much when i see people using it because it will never be as good and as full of feeling like real art

Hi there, and thank you for the interesting ask!

Yeah, AI is such a bizarre development in the art world. It's interesting, because I've always been a huge proponent of hand-drawn animation, and the take over in the animation industry of CGI always upset me. Not that CGI and AI are the same thing, because obviously it requires immense amounts of artistic skill to produce CGI animation, and I really love a lot of CGI animation too. I just wish there was more of a balance of the two co-existing, rather than watching hand-drawn animation slowly but surely dying out. But I feel like there's a relation there, to the world of art going away from genuine skill to something more assisted and artificial. It's kind of similar to how artisans used to be considered essential, but have been relegated to almost a novelty because of the advent of mass-production. People who are skilled tailors or seamstresses have long been struggling because you can just go out and buy factory produced clothing now for much cheaper. Furniture makers, wood craftsmen, etc... can't compete with mass produced furniture that's made in factories, etc... And in animation, cell animation and the time and energy and cost of it can't compete with CGI animation in terms of efficiency and speed. All of it, of course, comes down to profit, like so many shitty things in this world. When they say money makes the world go round, it's a cliche, but cliche's are cliche's because they're true.

So AI to me seems like a natural extension of that fact. It's about money, and it sucks. A machine can never capture the human emotion that a true piece of art conveys. It doesn't matter how detailed or realistic or perfect it is. An AI generated portrait will never capture the humanity you would find in a painting by Rembrandt, for example, or a painting by Monet. Hell, photographs themselves can't typically capture the emotion you find in paintings by truly great artists. Going back to animation, there's just something about cell animation, in all its imperfection, that holds a certain personal humanity that CGI can't ever, really have. You can tell an actual, human hand produced it, as opposed to a computer, and it lends it a certain quality of life that I don't see in CGI.

I wouldn't be surprised if we end up getting some AI produced "reconstruction" of unfinished works by great composers. Beethoven famously was never able to finish his 10th symphony, and other composers have attempted to "imagine" what he might have done themselves (an already impossible task), so I wouldn't be surprised if you get someone feeding what few sketches he produced into an AI program to "finish" the symphony. But see, it would all be based off of mathematical equations and probability, and with absolute certainty I can say it would never come close to what Beethoven was actually thinking. Because human emotion and creativity isn't based on logic or numbers.

Anyway, yeah. It's a natural development of greed, really. Wanting to produce more for less and so make more money. That really is at the root of so many of the world's problems. And it of course extends out to other issues, like you pointed out. Violations of people's privacy, the ruination of people's reputations through generating false images of them, etc, etc... It can become incredibly sadistic and malignant.

I really don't know where it's headed. I hope it doesn't end up being like the examples I listed above, with it replacing real art. But that's everyone's great and legitimate fear. So many people put money over everything else.

[rydiathesummoner]

Dawntrail's plot is South Park's giant douche vs turd sandwich episode

OK so I'm not far (just finished the first dungeon) but I can kind of see what they are going so far with the story.

If you've never seen South Park, first of all enjoy the brain cells you didn't lose, but also there was an episode where the two candidates for US president were a giant douche and a turd sandwich. No, literally. The whole point was about how it's hard to vote when all your candidates suck.

I think FFXIV is going for the same idea, albeit in a classier way. ALL the candidates suck one way or another for a position of being in charge of Tural.

The First Promise does have a point about extended peacetime making people complacent, but holy shit dude calm the hell down about the warmongering. You want to take over the world? Dude. You smell like an ascian. Or one being influenced by one. Oh wait, now I'm very suspicious of your Jafar-like assistant...

The Second Promise is academically brilliant and his ideas would absolutely improve many aspects of Turali life, but he's not a leader. And he's definitely not the leader of a giant diverse population. Why? Because he has the social skills of a soggy napkin. I would hire Koana in a heartbeat to be an SME but not as a manager. I do realize this is the internet and this observation may rub some the wrong way, but if you want to be a great leader, you HAVE to have top-notch social skills. You need to like people and enjoy engaging with them. You need people to not secretly dread coming to you. And get your fucking nose out of your book when people are talking to you, you rude little shit.

The Third Promise is a huge case of being way too inexperienced. She does have some great WoL-like qualities. She's kind, willing to help, people approach her, she enjoys people and making friends and allies. But you really can't trust a stereotypical WAR main to run a massive country. She's too young and impulsive, plus she still needs Erenville to babysit her. You can't run a country on enthusiasm. She needs about 10 more years to mature and explore the world.

Taco Stomper is obvious. He has literally no redeeming qualities. At first I wondered how such a boorish asshole could become leader of a country, but then I remembered 2016 happened so eh 🤷‍♀️

I do think where this is going is that each head of the Dawnservant will choose a contender: Head of Resolve will choose Wuk Lamat, and Head of Reason will choose Koana. Those two can make up of the other's weaknesses. It's at least probably better than the turd sandwich we got in 2004.

[voidendron]

1, 2, 12, 13, 28, 50 for Jen x Kitty and/or Lina x Felix? (wiggle questions and pairs as you like)

Thank you, Pauletta! 💚💜 always love an excuse to talk about the smuggler boyfriends, and I don't get to ramble about Lina/Felix enough <333

(Internet being spotty, so typing this out kinda quick. Apologies for any mistakes or Rambliness™️!)

(For anyone who may just happen across this: Kitty is the Sith Pureblood, Jen is the Cathar lol)

1. What were their first impressions of one another?

Jen didn't trust Kitty as far as he could throw him. Jen is lowkey scared of Sith, so one look at Kitty's face without knowing him had him on edge - he only let Kitty on his crew in the first place so his kids could have a roof over their heads.

Kitty was grateful of Jen, respected him for his help, but found him arrogant and kind of unbearable to be around for extended periods of time.

Obviously those negative impressions didn't last lol

2. What was their first date like? If they haven't been on a date yet, how would it go?

Theirs was pretty stereotypical. Baesk babysat the kids, Jen and Kitty went to a nicer cantina for drinks. They flirted, laughed, exchanged stories, that kind of thing. Kitty also proved to be a lightweight - Jen thought it was hilarious, but had to call Corso to help get Kitty back to the ship so he could sleep it off.

12. What would they say each other's worst quality is?

Jen thinks Kitty's is his selfishness when it comes to strangers in need. He won't risk his own life for someone he doesn't know, and it's caused some arguments.

Kitty 100% thinks it's Jen's tendency to run headfirst into things with zero planning or preparation.

13. What would they say each other's best quality is?

Jen adores Kitty's soft-spoken nature, and also thinks his medical know-how is invaluable to the crew.

Kitty thinks it's Jen's selflessness and courage when it comes to helping those in need; he admires it, but has a hard time being the same way, himself.

28. Are they affectionate in public? Is it too much?

While Kitty is a little more reserved simply due to the fact he's quiet around strangers, neither of them is afraid of PDA. They're happy to hold hands, hug, give a passing kiss on the lips or cheek, and Jen likes to bump his forehead against Kitty's chest or neck.

Jen is also subject to purr if Kitty has an arm around him.

50. Is there anything that scares them about their friendship/relationship?

They're both afraid of losing each other to something stupid - which can make Jen's tendency to put himself in dangerous situations pretty scary for Kitty.

1. What were their first impressions of one another?

Lina saw a loyal trooper, and was interested in learning more about his experiences since her brother was also in the Republic military.

Felix saw a surprisingly stubborn Jedi with a bright smile. He was...pretty smitten almost immediately.

2. What was their first date like? If they haven't been on a date yet, how would it go?

They both suspect Synnda purposefully tasked everyone else with things offboard to give them some time alone, though he never confirmed nor denied when asked about it. They took it as a chance to talk in private, get to know each other better without Tharan or Zenith making comments or Nadia giggling when she thought they wouldn't notice.

They never really had an "official" first date where they went somewhere fancy or spent fun time together, but that night alone was a big step for their relationship, and they fell asleep with Lina laying her head on his chest.

12. What would they say each other's worst quality is?

Lina thinks it's Felix's tendency to be selfless to the point of putting himself in extreme danger. She's had a few scares because of it.

Felix thinks it's Lina's poor improvisational skills. When Plans A and B fail, she balks, and he's always worried it'll get her or someone else hurt when it happens.

13. What would they say each other's best quality is?

Lina loves that he does what he thinks is right, but also that he's not really a by-the-book type of guy. She quickly grew to admire his leadership when she saw how he dealt with his men on Hoth.

Felix loves her arms her big heart and how it pairs with her sarcasm for a pretty damn endearing personality. He also likes that she's a good team player, working very well with most groups.

28. Are they affectionate in public? Is it too much?

They're both pretty reserved in public, though a passing peck on the cheek isn't unheard of. Their reservations on PDA is a leftover habit from when Lina was a Jedi, but they both know they don't need a bunch of it to know they love each other.

50. Is there anything that scares them about their friendship/relationship?

Lina's worst fear already came to a head when Zakuul captured Felix. She could sense he was alive, and his distress was great enough even she could feel it, and she worried every day for when that feeling would just. End. And she'd know he was gone. She bawled her eyes out when they were reunited on Odessen. (It didn't help that her brother was Also missing for about half that time, and when he came back he was in Bad shape, so she had a lot of thoughts about what might be happening to her husband which just distressed her more)

Felix is afraid of losing her in any way, though to age is what he worries about most (since she's a doctor/healer, so personally not in danger very often). She's a few years older than him, so it's fairly likely she'll die before him. He was admittedly also a little worried that in the years he was missing that she was no longer in love with him, or that she'd even found someone else. He felt guilty about it, but reminds himself that the thought was put in his head by Jarak, while he actually knows Lina.

[threadsun]

Favorite color? You can’t help but ask them why that’s the first question they ask you “Someone’s favorite color can say a lot about them, and it’s something most people know off the top of their head. It also probably comes from how many kids I meet” You tell them you were wondering why they were so colorful “Oh, well that’s because I’m literally a clown. Though I guess all my bright colors do make me look like I’m from a cartoon, huh?” You two chuckle and you agree with them, saying that they’d make a great action figure

Jack laughs at this “Aww, you’re too kind, I’ll let you know if our merch team ever makes one. I’d love to see you play with me” A shiver runs up your spine as their voice dips into something lower, seductive even, before snapping back to his original tone “How’d you like Rory? He’s pretty great, right?” The tone shift makes your head spin for a second before responding, agreeing that Rory is nice to talk to “Yeah, he’s really sweet when you get to know him, he’d make a great harem member if I might be so bold” You chuckle and ask if he has a harem “Huh? Oh…you don’t know much about what leading the cult entails do you?”

Your face falls, that familiar feeling of anxiety pooling in your stomach. You ask him what he���s talking about “Well, there are a lot of things the leader is expected to do but one thing you’ll have to establish is who gets to be in your harem. People will flock to you once they all know you’re here and all of them want to please you. The harem is a system that makes sure people don’t do something stupid like try to have sex with you in public” You laugh, they don’t

You look at him for a moment before asking if he’s serious “Oh yeah, it was a real problem before the founder established his. If you’re still unsure who you’d like to be in it by week's end just pick someone you’re friends with to hold them off. Though make sure you tell them they’re just there because they're your friend, don’t wanna kill anyone now, do we?” even though you’re both outside in the afternoon sun you feel ice cold, you’d expected weird shit, it is a cult after all, but this is just something else. You can’t even tell if they’re kidding about your rejection killing someone, the way he says it is so flat, like they’re telling you the sky is blue or fire is hot

You tell them you’ll keep it in mind and you start to look around as you try to think of another conversation topic. As you do you notice all the houses look nearly identical, not an uncommon occurrence in neighborhoods to be sure, but it’s more than a little uncanny. Every now and again you see a group of children playing after school, all of them wave at Jack as you pass by. You remember them saying that they talked to a lot of kids and decide to ask them about it

“Oh, I’m the elementary teacher! Though I also do counseling for the older kids. It can be rough going through life alone, I just wanna be there them” It’s only when their voice drops do you realize they’ve been performing this whole time. Their voice has been light, almost bubbly all this time, but in that moment they sound so down to earth, like they really care about these kids. You can’t help but smile

“Oh, here we are!” Their voice regains its bouncy quality as he walks down someone’s driveway “Now, I’ll make sure to tell him who you are but don’t be surprised if he gives you a bit of a death glare when he sees you. Jean’s never been fond of newcomers” You thank them as they knock on Jean’s front door. It takes a minute but eventually the door opens, the man inside looks a bit awkward, having to cross his left arm over to open it. He gives you your warned death glare before it turns to something more confused “Hey Jean, I thought I’d bring you some coffee cake after your readjustment. This is-” Jean’s eyes widen and before they can get it out, Jean says your name

Sorry if this one feels a bit short, but I find it only hurts a project to extend it but hope you like it anyhow! Also sorry for sending in so many things at once my brain is just buzzing

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm losing my mind at how good this is!!!!!!!!! The way you write all the characters is so good!!!! Also flirty Jack 👀😳