#i cannot emphasise enough that this is the only time we hear him speak like this

[biscuit-o]

Do you ever think about this part from Near's speech in the warehouse? The way his eyes are hidden? The way he lifts Mello's puppet? The way his voice trails off? The way we don't know what exactly he wanted to say? The way his team are surprised by this reaction? The way he's confident that Mello wasn't trying to save him?

[teyamsilly]

reader flinching during an argument w neteyam?

maybe he raises his voice or throws his hands up in expectation and reader misinterprets it and flinches, ofc he notices and feels super guilty, comfort after

deffered warrior

pairing: neteyam x omaticaya fem! reader tags & warning: reader is pregnant but not showing, a mom of one child, dad! neteyam, they're both aged up, angry neteyam, reader is so stubborn summary: with the sky people back, neteyam doesn't want you going out in the forest without his company. he's been extra protective of his family within reason, but you didn't like feeling helpless. you went to the forest without telling anyone, maybe you should have. index sempu - dad, muntxate - wife/female spouse, tawtute - human, nìftxan - so, ngäzìk - difficult, olo'eyktan - clan leader word count 3.5k

a/n spinned this a little hope you like it! i've been working on this for a while because i wanted to make sure it was good. enjoy <3

Because of the pregnancy, your duties as a warrior were temporarily suspended. It was frustrating that you were forbidden to participate in the raid. You were barely showing and still capable of fighting, but Neteyam insisted that you stayed behind. 

With the the sky people back, their attacks became even more ruthless and unforgiving. Their technology advanced which gave them the upper hand, but everyday you prayed to Eywa that she protects the people. Especially your family.

Nutxe watched his father putting his cummerbund on followed by his leather armguard. Neteyam was preparing for another rally to stop the humans from creating their own space to live in. They were getting too close, and their preparations have been getting quick. Because of it, he's barely home and only coming back to his wife and son asleep.

"Sempu, how hard will it be this time?" asked Nutxe, eyes wide from curiousity.

"It doesn't get easier, 'itan," sighed Neteyam. He managed to pull a smile for his child, and placed his hand on top of his head. "We will do everything to stop them," he reassures.

Nutxe nodded. "I know. You'll defeat them because sempu, uncle Lo'ak, and grandpa are there!" he cheered as he raised his fists.

You laughed from where you were standing. After hearing his father's accomplishments, Nutxe admired him greatly. You'll always hear him saying he wants to be like his sempu one day, and protect you from danger.

Of course, he got the idea to protect you from the man himself.

Neteyam only chuckled. He approached you, and you handed him his bow and arrows. You couldn't help but inspect his warrior look with envy. It's been a long time since you've worn your own cummerbund, and the feeling of adrenaline was missed.

"I am still strong enough to fight," you said. You made sure to keep your voice low from Nutxe's big ears.

Neteyam exhaled before he pursed his lips momentarily. "We've talked about this, muntxate. You are with child, our child," he emphasised with a frustrated look. "I want you out from the field."

You hissed, "I feel helpless! I wouldn't be the first woman pregnant there."

"Munxtate."

"Your mother went to war with you inside of her. I don't see why I cannot be there."

He shook his head. "I don't want to argue about this with you anymore. I don't want to leave like this, please."

Both of you stared into each other's eyes intensely. Neteyam waited for you to back down, your eyes were full of determination that he almost felt like you would go against him. Eventually, your eyelids drooped, showing your defeat.

Neteyam couldn't help let his grin show. "See me off?" he asked softly.

"Always." You managed to crack a little grin, which was enough for him.

As the three of you went towards the edge of High camp, Nutxe shifted on your hip and Neteyam's hand rested on your back. There were already warriors staying by there ikrans as they waited for their Olo'eyktan's signal. Jake could be seen standing beside his ikran, speaking with Neytiri about the raid.

"Grandpa!" yelled Nutxe.

Jake turned his head to the voice, and his lips broke into a smile that was rare to see lately. With the tawtute's back, it was difficult not to worry each second that they striked back with an even callous defense. But he can't hold back the joy he sees from his grandson.

"Came to see your grandpa and grandma off, bud?" he opened his arms for the boy.

Nutxe jumped off from your arms and dashed to his. Jake groaned when he lifted him up, complaining about how heavy he had gotten. Neytiri laughed, her finger tickling the boy's chubby stomach which earned her a fit of giggles.

"Look at you, so big," cooed Neytiri.

Nutxe smiled, "I cant wait to be taller. I want to be tall like sempu."

Jake gasped, offended, "What about me?"

He shook his, a mischevious smile on his face. "No."

Neteyam chuckled at his father's playfulness. Nutxe truly is a blessing from Eywa, he brought joy everywhere with him in the midst of this war. The burden of being Olo'eyktan had gotten heavier, and the bags under Jake's eyes only turned worse. He was relieved to see his father relaxed even for a little while. 

"Dad," called Lo'ak as he approached them firmly. "Tarsem and his unit is on the way to tail the humans."

Jake nodded, his playfulness was now gone. He put Nutxe on the ground, and the boy went to your side. He turned to the warriors, telling them to get ready. As a parting gesture, Neytiri gave you a squeeze on the shoulder.e, before she headed to her ikran.

Nutxe patted his uncle's hands and smiled at him, "Good luck, uncle Lo'ak."

Lo'ak returned the smile, placing his hand on top of his head. "Thanks bud." He gave you a nod before he left to his own ikran.

Neteyam kneeled down to his son's height. "Watch mama for me?"

His eyebrows were pinched together as he nodded with determination. "Yes, sempu!"

"I will see you when I get back." Neteyam pressed his lips on his forehead briefly. He stood up, looking at you. 

You nodded, "Be safe."

"Always."

The raid was successful again. There were less injured warriors compared to the previous raid and they managed to avoid casualties this time which made the each Omatikaya beam with pride. It brought hope that they could defeat the tawtute, and maybe leave their home alone.

Although, that didn't stop them from being vigilant. 

You were in the Tsahik's tent along with Tuk, rearranging the herbs that were not in their usual spot. Since you were reprived from your duties as a warrior, you searched for other ways to help the clan. Mo'at offered you to help her aid injured warriors which you did not decline. Your skills as a healer weren't as great as your athleticism, but it was better than nothing.

Nutxe was off with Spider and Kiri in the lab. You and Neteyam didn't mind that your son was getting along well with the scientists. They were loyal to the na'vi, and it always reminded you that Jake was once human. You cant take that away from Nutxe, not that you ever intended to.

"Is it all done?" asked Tuk. She sighed loudly, laying down on the mat as she stretched her arms and limbs.

"Yes," you hummed. Counting the number of bowls, you noticed that one was nearly empty. Yalnabark was most commonly used amongst injuries since they sting less, Kiri suggested this to her grandmother and they have used it ever since. "Oh, we're almost finished."

"What?!" Tuk immediately shot up from her position. She groaned once she saw the bowl you raised to show her. "We can't go out to the forest at this time. The party is still inspecting the area to make sure there aren't any surprise attacks."

"I will check my tent if we have some. I'll be back, Tuk."

Satisfied with Tuk's nod, you exited the Tsahik's tent and walked to yours. Unfortunately, the situation stayed the same: yalnabarak was nearly finished. 

An idea came into your head, but it was something that you knew your mate would go against. However, you cant just stay and rely the work on other na'vi. There was no way you would make yourself a liability.

You attached your comm's around your neck and tucked the ear piece in your ear gently, just in case things were to go wrong, which you prayed that it wouldn't come to that. You hang your satchel over your shoulder with your bow and arrows in your hand. Exhiliration filled your body at the thought being able to travel around the forest.

The air caressing your face made you sigh. This must what Lo'ak felt everytime he was going behind his parents' back. It was envigorating, but you felt guilty going against Neteyam. What he doesn't know wont hurt him, you tried to convince yourself, but there was that conscious part of yourself constantly telling you that it was wrong. Pushing those thoughts away, you let your ikran fly down and landed on forest ground.

As soon as your feet touched the ground, you searched for the necessary herbs to make yalnabark. They weren't hard to find if you knew where to search. The herbs were always close to the Link Shack which was one of the reasons why the medicine wasn't often used.

Since the RDA returned to Pandora, the Shack has been deemed unsafe and off-limits. Their chances of returning the area were highly probable. But when silence met you and the lone sounds you could hear in the forest were chirping insects, you sighed in relief.

Your satchel was almost filled with herbs you collected. It would be enough to aid the injured people for a while. Your arm was outstretched to pick out another leaf, but your eyes stopped on the muddy part of the ground. 

A fresh footprint. 

"We've got a na'vi here!"

The day continues to be quiet since the successful raid. Neteyam and Lo'ak were in the air, inspecting for any suspicion. The oldest frowned when he could see the damage that the humans brought to his home, trees were broken and what was once green and nature were destroyed.

"Nothing," said Lo'ak with a shrug.

Neteyam turned his head to him with furrowed eyebrows until it hit him that he was talking about the humans. He nodded. "Let's go back."

They turned their ikrans to the direction of their home. Silence fell between them, but comfortable, as they headed back home.

"Nete-"

Neteyam's ear twitched when he realised the voice came from the comm's. He pressed his neck where the speaker was, he spoke, "Muntxate?" 

The worst possible scenarios started forming into his head. You never used your comms before, promising to him that it would only be used when something was wrong.

"Neteyam, I am being attacked! Near the Shack! There is three of them!"

His heart sank. Realising you had gone behind his back, he let out a growl. Lo'ak looked at his brother questioningly. "Bro, what is it?"

"My mate is in trouble. Three avatars by the Shack." Neteyam's ear were pinned against his head, his jaw clenched. His hand gripped the handle of his ikran's halters tightly, mentally praying that she would be okay. And that their child would be fine.

You hid behind a tree, hugging your bow close. Leaning slightly to the side, you noticed an avatar walking slowly through the trees, his rifle pointing straight ahead. You inhaled deeply and drew the string of your bow until it touched your nose and lips. Your arrow was directed straight to the avatar. 

You drew your fingers back, releasing the arrow, which penetrated his skull. 

"Na'vi!" his partner yelled. Bullets roared through the woods, and you assessed it as an indication to flee. Without glancing behind, you forced your feet to run faster than the wind. Jumping from one branch to the next.

A scream escaped your lips when the branch you jumped on rattled from a big explosion, causing you to slip and fall. Your body hit large leaves, slightly softening your fall but hurt nonetheless. You whimpered, feeling pain course through your body. Immediately, your hand flew to your stomach. "Please, great mother," you whispered with tears in your eyes.

Large footsteps entered your ears. Hope surged through your body until you looked up only to realise it was one of the avatars chasing you. His smirk sent shivers down your spine. He pressed the speaker on his neck, saying, "I got her."

His face wrinkled in anguish as he groaned, just as he prepared to take another step towards you. His corpse dropped forward right in front of you, and you stifled a sob as you realised who was responsible.

"Muntxate," Neteyam exclaimed. He felt loose after seeing you harmed on the ground; he felt as if he would rip each of their limbs off for doing this to you.

You sobbed, "Neteyam."

He knelt on the ground and hugged your form closer to him as he quietly listened to you weep. He trailed his hand to yours, which was resting on your belly, and kissed your temple softly while whispering soothing words. 

Neteyam couldn't tell whether you had injuries from where he used to stand, but now that the glowing light from the plants reflected your body… he could see bruises and blood. Neteyam pursed his lips, holding you tighter against him. What could have happened if he didn't arrive on time.

"Last one killed." He heard Lo'ak voice from his earpiece. "I've notified dad of this, he said to find whatever's useful on them and bring it in. He'll meet us as soon as we land in High Camp with grandmother to make sure your mate is okay."

Neteyam removed one of his hands and used it to press the button on his neck. "Copy. I will see you by the ikrans."

"I hear you. By the way, the second avatar was dead while I was making sure there aren't any more surprises. It was a straight shot to the skull. Your mate must've done this, she does have the best aim despite being in sticky situations."

Chuckles were heard through the other side, Lo'ak was clearly elated by this but Neteyam couldn't share the same feeling. 

"Can you stand?"

The gentle tone of his voice resonated in your ears. You only nodded as a response because you were afraid that your voice would betray you. You felt ashamed that it had come to this, even after he warned you. 

You stood up as Neteyam stood close to you, his arm extended just in case you felt unwell. "I came here to collect herbs for yalnabark. It was nearly finished," you explained, only gancing at his eyes for a second before looking away.

Neteyam's gaze transferred to the satchel, it's contents spilled out. He sighed deeply and grabbed the satchel, picking up the herbs and putting it back in. "We will talk once we go back home."

You felt like a child who was about to get scolded by a parent. Lo'ak's amused grin didn't help make you feel better. Just like Neteyam, you scolded him for getting into plenty of trouble back when you were just teenagers. So, forgive him if he found the situation a little bit amused.

When you got back to High Camp, Mo'at was already there to check your wounds and she brought you to her tent immediately. Tuk and Kiri were already there to assist her. The youngest sully was quick to apologise and blamed herself for not being with you, but none of it was her fault and you made sure she knew that.

Tuk did not have the responsibility to take care of you because you are a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions. And you are mature enough to accept the consequences.

Questions about the baby quickly came out from your mouth. It was the first thing Mo'at did, checking the baby. She felt your heart racing against her hand. The beating of your heart only slowed down to its normal rate when you she told you the baby is fine, but you needed rest to make sure.

Neteyam was there the whole time, watching his sisters apply medicine to your wounds whilst listening to his grandmother intently. You met his gaze, and you could tell he was relieved but disappointed at the same time. 

Fortunately, Nutxe dozed off in Jake's hut while he was with them. Neteyam stayed behind you on the way to the tent you both shared. He looked at the scratches on your back, his fury building with each glance, until he forced himself to turn his head away.

As soon as you entered your tent, you crossed your arms as you faced your mate.

"What were you thinking?" he hissed.

"I told you why, did I not?" you sassed.

He shook his head. "You do not get to act like this, not after you went behind my back. You did not even say a word to anyone!"

"I thought that it would be quick."

"You thought wrong," he seethed. "I told you so many times that this is for your own safety. Why wont you just listen? Do you not see that this is my way of protecting you?"

You turned aside, growling. You were already exhausted from being treated like a child. "I am not weak. I am still capable of standing without hurting!"

"Muntxate, this is not about your incapability." Neteyam pressed his palms against his eyes as he shut them tightly. He looked at you, annoyed. "You are carrying our prrnen. That should be enough for you to stay put."

"You forget who you are speaking to," you hissed angrily. "I am recognised as one of the strongest warriors along with you. Unless, my state makes me a liability, I should be-"

Neteyam suddenly took quick steps in front of you. You blinked, surprised at his stance but you didn't back down. He snarled, "I said no. Whether you like it or not, you will stay. I will tie you against a rope if I must."

"You are not Olo'eyktan yet," you scoffed. "I do not take orders from you!" 

You moved away from him, but he grabbed your forearm with his grip tight. You glanced at his hand wearily before looking up to his eyes, it was full of fury. "Nìftxan ngäzìk. If you do not want to be treated like a child, do not act like one."

Breathing heavily, you yelled, "I am already treated like one, skxawng!" 

Neteyam abruptly raised his arm, causing you to close your eyes and inhale sharply.. He pointed his finger to the exit of your tent, his gaze stuck on it. "Those demons have gotten stronger. They-" 

The words died on his mouth when he saw how you cowered with his touch. He released himself off you, his guilt consuming him. He can't believe he did it– that he let his rage get the best of him. He took a step back, his breath unsteady. "No, muntxate… I was not going to hit you. I would never."

You nodded, pressing your fingers to your temple before cupping your face. "I know, I just…" you sighed. Neteyam heard you sniffle, but it was muffled from your hand. You removed them for your face, and hugged your body. 

He watched your body language, because the last thing he wants is you to be scared of him. He only raised his arm to point outside but you thought otherwise. Neteyam would hate himself forever if he had caused anything for you to assume that.

Relief washed over him when you reached out to him, holding his hand. He trailed his other hand to your arm softly before he held your elbow, carressing it.

"I do not like thinking that I am not there to protect you," you revealed. Tears pooled into your eyes as you looked up at him. "What if something happens to you? What if it will be too late to save you? What would I do?" you croaked out.

"Nothing will-"

"You do not know that." You shook your head. "We need you, Neteyam. And I get scared everytime you go out there. I beg the great mother to protect you always, to watch you because I cannot."

Neteyam held your face, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. "Nothing will happen," he pressed, his gaze loving. "Because I'm not only doing this for my people, but for you and Nutxe. I will protect my family with all my strength and I cannot do that when I'm dead." 

A tear left your cheek when he leaned his forehead aginst yours with a grin present on his lips. "I will always come home to you, muntxate," he promised.

You pouted, "You should. I will haunt your soul if you dare to leave."

Neteyam laughed.

"And I'm sorry for leaving without telling anyone. I thought it would be simple."

"I know. What matters is that you are both okay."

You smiled as you pushed yourself against him and pressed his lips with yours. Neteyam wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your chests are touching each other. A moan escaped your lips when you felt a hand squeeze your cheek.

Neteyam pulled away slightly, his breath fanning your lips as he spoke, "Good thing Nutxe is with my mother and father." His eyes heavy with a look you became so familiar with. You said nothing and roughly kissed him making him groan.

Great mother, how long has it been since you let this man devour you?

support banner by @cafekitsune <3

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖕𝖎𝖌𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: playful insults, teasing, mistaking attraction for hatred, foreign language (french), enemies to lovers (hinted)

w/c: 1.842

summary: when you accompany your friend noel to blue lock you did not consider that kaiser, aka the bastard’s most infamous asshole, would be there, too. luckily your favourite pastime activity was throwing french insults into his face that no one but noel could understand.

a/n: this is based on a request i got :) this isn’t really love-hate and more another ‘attraction mistaken for hatred’ buuut if you’re all nice i’ll make a second part about when they move into the love-hate stage :) also can i just note how eVIL it is to ask a german person to write about the fRENCH. we are natural enemies yall 😔😔 we meet behind a denny’s to fistfight (and kiss) whaat who said that?!?! anyways i did love this prompt despite not being able to speak french. i was able to ask my friend to give me some phrases, their credentials are *checks papers* mediocre school french 👍🏻👍🏻 so let’s just hope my friend can be trusted, if not hope kaiser being hot makes up for it! (also french people <3 if you wanna correct my french pls do 🙏🙏)

You grumbled to yourself, regarding Kaiser with a glare. Not one he could notice since he was currently standing with his back turned towards you, conversing with Ness.

“Blaireau,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing at the boy.

Noel, who was sitting next to you, let out a sigh but didn’t even raise his gaze from his clipboard to regard you with one of his typical deadpan looks.

You guessed it wasn’t necessary, he knew you well enough to know you were sitting there with a frown edged into your features and your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“So you’ve started doing it even when he’s not close enough to hear you,” he asked you.

“Pardon me?”

“Muttering insults in french. I thought you were doing it to infuriate him but I am sure you know he cannot hear you from this distance.” To emphasise his statement he lifted his hand to point towards Kaiser, who was standing several feet away fem the two of you, before returning the pen he was holding to the paper, scribbling down another number.

You wondered how Noel made sense of it all. Keeping track of the stats of all the new team additions and transferring these numbers into percentages. What those percentages exactly meant you were unsure about. All you knew was that your friend spent a lot of time on them.

You sighed, trying your best not to glare at Kaiser again as you turned to look towards him. You failed.

“Infuriating him is only an added benefit. I do enjoy just insulting him for the sake of it.”

“I see.” Although Noel sounded unimpressed you could tell he would lose his patience with this little thing you and Kaiser had going on, sooner or later.

Especially if it would end up distracting the boy from soccer, not that you thought that was ever possible. Kaiser would rather ignore you for the rest of his life than endanger his soccer career.

You turned towards Noel again and let out a dramatic sigh. Time to make this predicament you were in known to him once more.

“Noel, i need you to look me in the eyes and tell me Kaiser isn’t one of the most annoying assholes you’ve ever met.” You challenged him, lowering your voice as to not catch the attention of any of the boys standing nearby.

The corner of Noel’s lips twitched up at your frustrated tone. Almost like he didn’t take you seriously. You frowned. Rude. This matter was dead serious.

“He doesn’t know how to behave. I trust you to be the mature one. Unless you want me to get you thrown out of this building. You’re only here because i consider you a dear friend, don’t forget that.”

You gasped, offended at the insinuation he’d be willing to throw you out, his best friend, in favour of keeping Kaiser’s ego intact. It was true that you were only allowed to accompany him to ‘Blue Lock’ because he had requested your presence, seeing as you were his best friend. You needed to emphasise that because ‘dear friend’? Yeah right. He wouldn’t know what to do without you. He’d certainly lose his mind.

“You wouldn't. You need me. My presence is precious to you,” you insisted, digging your finger into his arm, not unkindly. “But okay, I promise to behave since Kaiser is clearly not able to.”

You thought offering this was extremely kind of you since it was Kaiser who needed to learn some manners, not you. You were extremely well behaved.

“Aww you’re quite obsessed with me, aren’t you, darling?”

Your blood turned cold. When you turned your head back forward you were met with the sight of none other than Michael Kaiser standing only three feet in front of you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Casse-toi, Kaiser.” You cursed before you were able to stop yourself.

Kaiser’s grin grew. Noel let out a sigh next to you.

“You promised,” He reminded you and looked up from the clipboard to regard you with a pointed look. “Please, Y/n.”

“It’s not my fault. He’s started it!” You gasped, pointing at Kaiser childishly.

He laughed, waving his hand.

“I just came to say hello after hearing my name come out of your mouth so often. I was afraid you’d wither away without my attention.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, his innocent smile fooling no one.

Your jaw ticked and before you knew it you had risen to your feet and stomped forward to close the remaining distance between you two to start cursing him out in french.

To your growing anger Kaiser took it in stride, cocking his head at you and listening with interest as you threw insult after insult at his head before Noel apparently had enough of you. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you back telling you to sit back down and ignore Kaiser. He sounded exhausted.

Easier said than done. Kaiser’s whole nature demanded attention. It was impossible to ignore him. But you had promised Noa you’d behave, so you guessed you should at least try.

“T’es chiant!” you snapped at Kaiser, seeing this as the end of your fight, before you let Noel pull you down into the seat.

Noel gave you another pointed look before his gaze shifted back to Kaiser who was watching your interaction with amusement though there was a dark edge to his gaze that wasn’t there before.

“You’re not done with your training, yet, are you?” Noel asked Kaiser

The boy grinned and gave a halfhearted shrug.

“I’m taking a break.”

“Take it somewhere else,” you bit out, feeling Noel’s disapproving glare burn into the side of your face.

You were trying!

“I prefer your lovely company over the one of the common folk,” Kaiser replied easily, waving his hand in the general direction of where you saw the boys of the ‘Blue Lock’ project talk.

Kaiser didn’t like them much, especially Isagi, who has already declared war on him in a very dramatic way that had you questioned the boy’s mental health. Like really, was the boy okay? Talking about devouring people and ruining their life and all.

At least Isagi managed to infuriate Kaiser in a way that no one else was able to. Of course, this meant that you did like Isagi if only because he actually managed to get under the boy’s skin. Unlike you. Kaiser never seemed impressed when you threw french insults into his face, no, it was the complete opposite. He seemed to love it. He seemed to bash in your attention. This only made you angrier.

Entitled jerk.

Maybe you’d just have to take your ‘lovely company’ to Isagi and his friends the next time you saw Kaiser coming your way. That would keep him away.

“They’re not common folk and you’re not an emperor, Kaiser, at best you’re the roi des cons,” you fired back, regarding him with an unamused look.

Nowl let out another sigh, though you thought it was quite a clever word of play. He just didn’t know how to appreciate it or you for the matter.

Kaiser hummed, taking a few steps forward and lowering his head. His gaze was intense as he fixed yours behind the curtains of his hair that fell into his face. Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the sudden air of seriousness surrounding him.

“Is that a new petname, my love? How precious.” His voice was low and smooth and it took you a second to process his words.

When you did you felt your cheeks explode in heat and you had half a mind to jump up and wrestle Kaiser to the ground if it wasn’t for Noel’s hand grabbing the back of your jacket and pulling you down again.

“Stop provoking them and go back to your training, Kaiser.”

Kaiser just snickered, eyes twinkling with mirth as he took in your red face and the snarl on your lips.

“Don’t miss me too much, i’ll be back in a bit,” he mocked with a grin that reached his eyes but still didn’t look genuine.

He turned around to walk away.

“Va te faire enculer!” You called after him but he just laughed and waved his hand at you without turning back.

You huffed and sunk back in your seat, arms crossed in front of your chest as you pouted. You fucking hated that guy.

Noa watched you quietly for a moment before he shook his head and moved to stand up, pushing his clipboard into your hands for you to hold.

“Your taste in men is horrible,” he told you as nonchalantly as one would discuss the weather before shrugging out of his tracksuit jacket and throwing it on the chair he’s been sitting in.

You shot up, shrieking. “Excuse me?”

A few boys close-by turned to stare at you and you ducked your head in embarrassment at your out-lash but you couldn’t believe the words that had just left your friend’s mouth.

“Kaiser is bad news. You can do better than him.”

You gasped at him, cheeks burning from embarrassment. Where did that just come from? Was he seriously insinuating that you? And Kaiser?

“I’m not- You’re- I-” You stuttered, your heart racing in your chest.

This was- You couldn’t believe this!

Noel rolled his eyes and gently pried the clipboard out of your eyes, levelling you with a calm look.

“If you want to deny it, go ahead. But either way stop pulling Kaiser’s metaphorical pigtails already, it’s exhausting.”

He gave you a gentle clap on the shoulder and a small smile, before walking off towards the direction of the ‘Blue Lock’ boys. You stared after him, your face hot and your mouth agape.

You weren’t-

You and Kaiser? That was ridiculous. Absolutely impossible. You would never, not in a billion years, be attracted to him. He was such an asshole. A complete jerk. Completely infuriating. Why would Noel even think that?

You huffed again, shoulders bunching up as you tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Noel had no idea what he was talking about. What did he even know about romance? Nothing. That’s right!

You lifted your gaze and- You froze when your eyes locked with Kaiser’s. He was standing on the other end of the field, football secured under his arm. He was watching you intensely. From this far away it was hard to make out the look in his eyes but you felt a shiver rake down your spine and the itch on your tongue.

You gave him the middle finger, biting your tongue to not throw another insult his way as you would have had to shout it over the whole field. When the boy did nothing but laugh and blow you a kiss, you quickly turned away. The heat in your cheeks never fading.

Noel was wrong. You did not have a crush on Kaiser. You did not.

Not even a little.

translations:

Blaireau — Asshole

Casse-toi — Fuck off

T’es chiant — You’re annoying

Roi des cons — Complete idiot/King of idiots

Va te faire enculer — Go fuck yourself

[levixreader]

Dad!Levi x Mum!Reader- Daughter of Mine

Warnings: Just fluff

Charlotte: French name meaning freedom Summary: Charlotte was exactly like her father, stubborn to the core. Even though Levi would never allow her to join the military, she gives him a run for his money. Read as your teenage daughter turns your husbands day completely upside down when he agrees to have her join him for work for a week. Who knew someone other than you could break the Corporals composure so easily.

Requested by Anonymous

Master List | Requests | Next Chapter

“No”, Levi said firmly, taking another sip from his tea. “But DaAaAad!”, Charlotte whined. Levi ignored her closing his eyes while taking another sip from his cup. “Levi, you could at least take a minute to think about it”, you chimed in from the kitchen. He opened his eyes, glaring at you from the breakfast table. “No”, he repeated, his tone more severe. “I am an adult now!”, Charlotte argued sitting next to him. He turned his glare to your sixteen-year-old daughter. “Dad please!”, she pleaded her voice becoming more desperate. Levi remained in a frown.

Levi had promised Charlotte that he would give her whatever she wanted for her birthday. Of course, the only thing she wanted was for him to let her join the army. And sure enough, he had denied and blocked her every step of the way. She had tried to sneakily signup, several times might you add. Tried to even go to Erwin, Levi’s superior. And gone as far as convinced even you. But to no avail. He would never allow her to join.

“You’re not joining”, he said pissed off, “That’s final”, his impassive expression returning. Silence. Charlotte’s eyes welled up. You sighed, stopping loitering in the kitchen knowing perfectly well that you would need to intercede between them yet again. They had been having this fight for a month and half since her birthday to be exact. It always ended the same way, him denying her and her crying.

They normally had a great relationship, an unspeakable bond of trust of father and daughter. They understood each other in a way that you, even as her mother, could never completely comprehend. Which is why watching them have a go almost every other day was really painful to watch.

“Why?”, she asked, tears ready to fall. This was the first time she asked him for his reasoning. He turned to look at her icy grey eyes, the pain in her eyes palpable enough to soften his expression. He sighed loudly, giving in to her request. “I would never want to feel responsible if something were to happen to you”, he said sincerely. Hearing him broke your heart.

Levi could be many things, but even through his thick layered skin, he was ultimately human. Still only a man; flesh and blood. Still felt grief from every single one of his comrade’s deaths. And even if he rarely showed it, he had an almost unmovable sense of morality. Not even humanity’s greatest soldier could take in his shoulder the death of his only child. Even as a child if she had been out of his sight for what he thought of as too long, he would feel panicked. Not even when you were in the Corps had he felt this unnerved. You might be his soul but Charlotte was his heart and joy.

“But dad, even mum used to be on the force!”, she tried again, her voice shakier than last time. “She isn’t any more”, he pointed out. Both of them turn to look at you for some kind of support. You sighed again approaching them from across your standing position opposite them. “How about this”, you began sitting diagonally from both your husband and daughter, they both leaned in eager to hear your opinion, “take Charlotte for a week in the HQ”, you suggested. Charlotte’s eyes sparkled obviously appreciating your suggestion. Levi, on the other hand, had his eyes narrowed poignantly glaring at you. Oh boy, you knew that look. It was the look he used when he would make you pay for whatever you had done.

“Common dad”, Charlotte pleaded calling back his attention. He stared down at her, “No”, he answered. “But you said you would give me anything I wanted”, she insisted placing her hands on his knees. He stood his silent ground. “What if I don’t leave you side?”, she offered. He still didn’t say anything. “I’ll even clean your office”, she added, her eyes fuller than ever. He closed his eyes, sighing in defeat. “One week”, he finally replied. She immediately stood up screaming “YAY”, and then proceeded to twirl around the room. “I’m not done yet brat”, he said his eyes narrowing at her celebration in disapproval. “You’ll wake up every day at 5:00”, he began listing his conditions, “You do exactly as I say”, he continued, “And most importantly”, he emphasised, “You cannot leave my sight”. Charlotte who had been listening intently to his every word nodded furiously, “I promise!”, she said happily and proceeded to run up the stairs presumably to pick exactly what she was going to wear.

“Tch”, Levi said watching her disappear up the stairs. “You’re not off the hook either”, he said with half-lidded eyes. You rolled your eyes. “You’re just as bad as that brat”, he said meeting your gaze. “No, for that you have the full credit”, you commented smiling softly. His eyes narrowed, “After tonight, we might even have another one”, he casually said. “What?”, you replied blushing. “You heard me”, he said reaching to grab your face with his hand. “If I have to take the brat to work, you’re also suffering the consequences”, he said almost growling. “Yes, Sir”, you said seductively making him smirk, “It’s Corporal to you, brat”.

* * *

It hadn’t even been half a day and Levi was already regretting agreeing to bring Charlotte with him. His eyes narrowed watching his daughter in the courtyard with the 104th cadets. He didn’t have a problem with his daughter meeting the cadets but, what he did have a problem with was the newbie 104th cadets flirting with her. “Stupid shitty glasses”, he thought narrowing his eyes further as Jean, a horse-faced teenager, made Charlotte giggle. Hanji had, as per usual, bust into his office with news of some sort of experiment or another. But had promptly stopped when she laid eyes on Charlotte. “Is this little Charlotte I see!”, she had screamed in delight. Hanji was a regular at his house and knew Charlotte quite well. She had begged Levi to let her give Charlotte a tour of the facilities. At the time, he had been half thankful, since he still had half a mountain of paperwork to get through and Charlotte wasn’t making it any easier with her whining and asking when he would be done so that the both of them could go exploring. He trusted Hanji, but looking at things now, that had been a big mistake.

His eyes opened like plates. “Fuck. No.”, he thought having enough of the little show outside. He got up immediately from his desk chair. Eren had touched her. Moronic, hot-headed, titan-shifting Eren, had dared touch her.

Levi wasn’t an unreasonable man. He was praised for keeping his impulses in control. In fact, if anything, he was more the type to step back and assess before acting. But, all of that was thrown out the window when it came to his daughter. No one touched his daughter. Especially with dirty, filthy crummy hands like Eren’s. He stopped his way to the entrance of the courtyard. “Cadets!”, he screamed pissed off. The little group at the centre immediately turned to look at their superior. Levi’s eyes met Charlotte’s, she wasn’t happy and shot him half a glare. When the rest of the group realise it was the Corporal calling them, they all ran to stand in attention. “Heichou”, they said more or less in unison standing straight. Charlotte, on the other hand, leisurely made her way towards the line of cadets and Levi. Levi’s eyes fixated on her, narrowing in anger at her insubordination.

Of course, this did not escape the boys that had been flirting with her attention. Eren looked conflicted between Charlotte and Levi. Jean was biting his lip trying to think of what to say. Reiner’s brow was sweating unsure of what to do and so on and so forth.

“Captain!”, it was Eren who spoke first. Levi tore his eyes off Charlotte to look at him, his steel eyes warning him off wanting to cut his head off. “Charlotte is new”, he said less confidently mirroring Reiner’s sweating. Levi’s right eyebrow cocked up. “We’ll make sure she knows how to greet her superiors properly”, he said closing his eyes and lowering his head as a form of apology. “He”, Levi said in dark amusement. At least one of them had the balls to try to shield that stupid brat of his. Eren opened one eye and sneaked a peek at the Corporal. Levi looked even more annoyed. “Yes Corporal!”, this time it was Jean three persons down. It was his turn to be glared at. “Please forgive her!”, he pleaded also lowering his head. Levi felt red hot anger curing through his veins.

“So, you lot think you know how to handle my daughter better than me?”, Levi said with molten furry. Eren and Jean instantly raised their head in shock. All of the six in the group were shocked. Daughter. Charlotte was the Corporal's daughter.

“Dad!”, came a whine from Charlotte. Levi’s lips became a straight line, “My office”, he managed to say with a still controlled tone. “But-”, she tried, “Now!”, he emphasised louder. She pouted crossing her arms in front of her chest, “Dad stop”, she tried once again. His glare intensified, his eyes turning to look at the still processing cadets in front of him. “Since you all seem so eager to speak on her behalf”, Levi said calling back the attention of the boys, “you can all take her punishment too”, he glared at the line, “100 laps and stable duty for 2 weeks”, he called out waving a hand to dismiss them. Groaning they all made their way back to the courtyard to start laps.

“Charlotte”, he said turning to see his daughter once again. Oh, she was in for it. He never called her that. “We’re leaving”, he called grabbing her forearm and dragging her out of the buildings.

* * *

“Hey!”, you called out hearing your husband and daughter come in through the front door. “How was today?”, you asked moving to the living room to greet them. They both looked angry. “Oh God”, you thought approaching them. “Fine”, Levi said walking past you to reach sit on the couch. “Right”, you thought turning to look at him. “Why the long face?”, you questioned earning you a glare. “Ask her”, he responded pointing at Charlotte, who was still pouting. “Me?!”, she dramatically argued. His eyes narrowed. “What is going on?”, you asked a little lost. “I’ll tell you!”, Charlotte volunteered, “Dad went crazy”, she informed making you frown. Crazy?

“The military is not a flirting patch”, he answered rudely making Charlotte’s cheek colour. Your eyebrow shot up at her reaction. “I wasn’t flirting!”, she defended whilst flustered. You turned to look at your husband who was by then already staring at you with a “see” face. “Levi”, you said walking so that you stood in front of his knees. “What did you do?”, you asked crouching so that you could meet his gaze. “Nothing”, he said turning away. “L-evi”, you said softly. “If those brats have the balls to touch my daughter then they can have the balls to demonstrate their endurance and cleaning skills”, he said, not a single bit sorry. You sighed, turning your head slightly to look at your daughter. “Charlotte, give us a minute”, you said smiling softly at her. She frowned softly but complied and ran upstairs.

Sighing again you hung your head. “Levi”, you said your tone a little stern. He did not answer opting to look elsewhere as you looked up to his face. “You can’t do stuff like that”, you said placing both your hands on each of his knees. His eyes still didn’t meet yours. “Charlotte is not a child”, you said gripping his knees. To this he turns to look down at you his eyes dipped in disapproval, “She will always be my child”, he said catching you by surprise. That was so uncharacteristically of him. “You should have seen how they were looking at her”, he said in disgust, “They got what they deserved, tch”, he said returning his eyes elsewhere. You stifled a chuckle.

You had only seen him like this once and it had been back when you were dating and someone dared ask you out. Levi had had a field day with them.

“Levi”, you called out even softer than before. He looked at you, his eyes now softer with a hint of sadness and anger. “You can’t treat Charlotte like that”, you said drawing circles on his knees. He sighed, his shoulder’s relaxing a bit. “I know”, he said in defeat. One of your hands moved upwards to hold his cheek. His face shifting to put its weight on your palm. “It’s just-”, he started thinking of the best way to describe the feeling, “hard”, he settled on. “I know”, you said empathising with him. He sighed again, moving his face so that his lips were the ones on your palm now. He kissed it before getting up. “Are you going to talk to her?”, you asked watching him disappear further into the house. “Something like that”, he said underneath his breath making you chuckle.

* * *

*knock, knock*

Two knocked protruded from her room’s door. Charlotte looked up from her bed, fresh tears still falling down her cheeks. She didn’t answer, not really in the mood to see you or Levi, especially Levi. “Stupid dad”, she thought burring her face on the pillow.

The door creaked open, allowing Levi to walk inside the room. “Brat”, he called out from the foot of the bed. Charlotte didn’t even shift. He sighed sitting down on the corner by her feet, “Brat”, he tried again. Charlotte simply buried herself deeper in the pillow. She didn’t want her father to watch her cry. “Charlotte”, he said softly placing a hand on her leg. “Hmm”, he heard her muttered from her pillow. “Common, let’s have a talk”, he said tapping her leg. She sighed emerging from the pillow and turning to look at him. His heart twisted when he caught her still watery eyes. “What is it?”, she said quietly. “I’m your dad”, he informed making her eyebrows knit. “Yeah?”, she said quizzically. Levi sighed once more, completely defeated, “even when you’re old like me, you will always be my brat”, he said looking down at her bedsheets. This made Charlotte giggle. “I know”, she said this time placing her hand on his leg. “You’ll always be my dad”, she echoed making the corner of Levi’s mouth tug upwards. “Always”, he answered looking at her with a smile. To his surprise, Charlotte threw herself at him hugging him. Levi eagerly hugged her back.

“This doesn’t mean you can get out of 5 a.m. training tomorrow”, he said making her push him so that he was at arm’s length. “Training?”, she repeated confused. “What? You thought I would back away from a promise?”, he asked rhetorically feigning offence. Charlotte beamed, “Really? You mean it?!”, she asked bouncing. “Yeah, yeah”, he said ruffling her hair, “Be ready at 4:30 sharp”, he said getting up from her bed, “If you’re late, I’ll make you run laps”, he said closing the door of her bedroom.

[visit-ba-sing-se]

hey it is me again rewriting a scene from the comics with no compliance to canon nor context just because it was on my dash and bothered me 

“You know it wasn’t, Zuzu.” The words came out before Azula had thought them through, and she directly scolded herself for that. Sure, the current situation was bad, but she liked to believe that she had been in way greater danger before. And in those moments, her brain had usually worked pretty well. Which was the reason why she was even still alive now to be stuck in this mess. Of course, she had to admit, a few times it hadn’t. Which was again the reason behind the mess. “What?”  At least she had managed to catch her brother surprise. His grip loosened a bit, and the anger in his eyes faded a little to make room for confusion, which turned into disbelief and then again quickly into scepticism. After everything, his face was still like an open book, and she could see him shifting through the different pages as he tried figure out her intentions.

“Like this. Between us.” Azula shrugged, as much as that was possible in her current position. “You know. me trying to kill you…you locking me up..me trying to kill you again…you holding me over a cliff…” 

Azula did her best to sound casual as she spoke. As if she was telling a funny remark, not recounting the shambles the relationship between her an Zuko had fallen into, each one a sharp dagger of its own. But she herself could hear how much her voice sounded like it was about to crack. And a part of her did not even mind. That part that was just so tired of keeping her act up, again and again, everyday and at all times. She had played it so well. Had done so much to keep to keep everything, but first and foremost herself in control. And where had that even gotten her? On the edge of a cliff, from which her brother would may or may not throw her to death. So, if there had ever been a moment to put her cards on the table, wasn’t it now? 

“Azula, I have no idea what you are getting at.” 

The anger had returned onto her bothers face, and Azula did not know what was worse: the fact that she actually wondered if he would have it in himself to kill her, or how little she cared about the answer.

“And to be honest am really not in the mood for one of your mind games right now.”

She could not help but laugh. It wasn’t real laughter. Too bitter and too dry.  Not like she really remembered what her real laughter even sounded like.  Of course, that was what he thought. That she was still scheming, with her feet in the air and the abyss below. And had that not been the picture she had always tried so hard to convey? Why was she mad at him for buying exactly the show she was selling? Because he does not even try to look behind the curtains, a voice in her head whispered the answer. Zuko opened his mouth to say something else, but she interrupted him before that.

“I am not playing anything. I am just answering your question. Truthfully.” She emphasised the last word. Not for him, but more for herself. It was about time she did that. “You know we were different when we were kids. How we used to play together. How we snuck in the kitchen to steal food.How you taught me the first bending moves. How we warned each other when dad was in a bad mood. That was not us against each other. That was us against the rest.” She paused, to give her words the room and weight they deserved to have. “You cannot tell me you do not remember what tricks we used to play on the staff. Or what stories you used to tell me about the dragons when I had snuck into your room at night. Or what you swore me when Lu Ten went to war.” 

Her brothers reaction reaction told Azula that he did, just as well as her. Even though that night had been so long ago, and at least to her felt like it had happened in another universe. 

The day that their older cousins, who had kind of been like a second bigger brother to her, had announced that he would leave to conquer Ba Sing Se. Of course the adults had tried to play it down, but Azula had not fallen for their tales. She knew what war was. Or least, she had thought so. At. least she had already understood that sometimes people went there and did not return. And that now one of those people would be Lu Ten. 

She had refused to join the family during meals and even missed her lessons, for the only time in her life. All she had done was sit at a turtle duck pond and stare into the water, which no amount of yelling nor nice words from either parent had been able to change. Azula did not remember what excactly she had been thinking back then, except for the she sworn herself to never talk to any of them ever again. Which had worked quite well. Until Zuko had shown up to sit next to her and put a hand around her shoulder.

“Hey, don’t be so sad, Azula,” he had said, obviously trying to sound more cheerful than her really felt. “Lu Ten surely will come back soon and well.”

Azula did not know why, but after that her tears has just started to flow.

“Zuzu, he is abandoning me. Abandoning us.” She had sniffed, hiding her face between her hands. “How can he just do that? I thought he was our friend.”

“Because he had to fight in the war. Like our uncle. It’s important for our nation. And his duty.”

“Stupid duty!” Today, her own reaction seemed hilarious to Azula. But she knew that she had meant each word she had said, the way only a child can mean them. “I think if you really care for someone, you do not just leave them behind. Not for any duty.”

“Well, I know that I would never abandon you.” Her brother had responded, he too as convinced of his words as only a child could be . “Not for anything in the world.”

“Promise?” she had asked.

“Promise” he had said, and they had shaken hands dramatically, while looking each other deep in eyes. As if they had just sealed a very important and serious deal.

Now, Azula was staring at those exact same and yet so different eyes again. Still the same shade of gold, but one of them now scared.

In them, she saw understanding. And then a very, very deep regret. A regret not limited to the events of today, but that seemed to span over all of their lost days. She recognized it not only because it was so obviously written on his face, but because she felt it too. When her brother carefully put her down on her feet again, its weight on her shoulder nearly made her legs give in. 

“How only did we end up here?” Zuko asked finally, shaking his head. There was no more accusation in his voice. Just sadness and disbelieve. Azula wanted to reach out to him. As close as they were standing, it would have been easy to put her arm on his. But at the same time, he seemed to be so far away, and the divide that had built between them over years just felt uncrossable. 

When had it started? She wondered. When had she started seeing Zuko as friend and brother and more like an opponent? Like a rival for her parents approval? Had it been when her training had gotten more serious? Or when her father mood swings had gotten worse? Azula could not remember. What she remembered was how there suddenly had been this fear. This fear to fail and disappoint, that had come and chased every other motion away. That had numbed her feelings for anyone and anything else, except for this one need. This one need to be perfect. To be the best. 

“You know”, her brother continued after a moment, while Azula was still deep in her thoughts,  “I usually tell myself that this is what we were destined for. That we just were made to stand on opposing sides and fight. But-“ his voice cracked, and took a while until he continued talking. “But that’s not true. That’s just what they taught us. What he taught us. He just was so good at it.” 

She truly wanted to believe that he was right. But she had just reached another conclusion before. One that she hated to have had, and one that she even more hated to share. But she had wanted the truth in first place. So now there was no turning back.

“No. It was me. I ruined it. I was so obsessed with making father proud and…..I”,

 Azula forced herself to continue speaking even though she felt like she was choking on her words, “I sacrificed you for that. I…I sacrificed us.” She felt hot, burning tears on her cheeks, but she did not care enough to even swipe them away. What were a few tears for so much that was lost? 

“And now it’s all ruined. I….I`m sorry.”

“Azula…no”, she saw her brother reaching our his hand. Slowly and hesitant, as if he was afraid she would back away. But she did not, and so he put it down on her shoulder. “Azula, you were child. We both were. And I am sure there were times I could have been a better brother, but I was not. Like back then. But also today. And for those I am sorry, too.” 

There were tears in his eyes as well, Azula noticed, just like the slight crack in his voice. And she knew that he meant everything he said.

“And of course I am sorry for the years we lost, and I wish we could turn back time and make things different. But-,” Zuko paused, and Azula could tell that he was carefully considering each word, “we still can have so many years ahead. Maybe we can try to make this right. Maybe we can at least take our future back from them”

He brother looked at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but also nervously twitching his free hand. 

Azula knew that he was excepting an answer to his proposal. She also it would be difficult, and that it might not even work. She also knew that there had been a time where her answer would have been a clear no. No risk. No trust. No dependency. That had been her default, and part of her strategy to success. And also how she had lost everyone that had ever mattered to her. But now, more than anything, she just wanted her brother back.

“You really think we could?”, she said therefore, “because I really do want these years.

“Yes I do”, Zuko smiled through his tears. “After all, I have a promise to keep.”

And then, after what had felt like an eternity, Azula hugged her bother again. (submit another scene if you enjoyed this?)

[lesbiansforboromir]

once again you made me deeply emotional over boromir. i don't have the fellowship (much less the english edition) at hand, so i can't even re-read my fav parts with him. any particular boromir-related stuff you may share?

FUCK ok I’ve got a migraine and a passion and I do not know how to use either of them but I’m gonna use this ask to talk about something I’ve been thinking about for months, not kidding on that one. 

Galadriel... was the direct cause of Boromir trying to take the ring- HEAR ME OUT. 

There are some very important things to remember about Boromir when you’re considering his actions and motives.

- He explicitly came on the quest assuming it would lead them all to Minas Tirith, because that’s where he needed to get back too. It’s very clear, he and Aragorn are literally going because Minas Tirith is on the way to Mordor. And every detour and every delay of the Company amps up his frustration and worry. 

- He left Gondor with the certainty that his city would be besieged VERY soon and that they would not be able to break it. His trip to Rivendell is desperation based in it’s entirety, he’s looking for anything that might help. 

- He knows absolutely none of these people from adam and whilst he very much wants to trust them, they have yet to win his loyalty or faith in ANY capacity. I’m sorry! I know everyone wants the Fellowship to be that good good found family foundation but it simply isn’t that for Boromir and never has been.

Okay so when they finally leave Moria and Gandalf’s dead, everyone’s grieving and miserable. They are also worried, Gandalf was their guide and as much as Aragorn’s a tracker he doesn’t have Gandalf’s expertise. Then again, Moria had been entirely Gandalf’s decision in the first place, claiming there wouldn’t be many orcs in there at all in an argument he has with Boromir about how dangerous the mines would be in comparison to the Gap of Rohan. Indeed, if Bilbo hadn’t given Frodo the mithril shirt then Frodo would be straight up dead and it would have been Gandalf’s decisions that caused it. 

So at this point Boromir’s faith in Aragorn’s ability is pretty low. And no one else in the Fellowship has any interest in leading. Boromir deferred to Aragorn’s judgement because Aragorn’s more knowledgeable of Eriador and also just... a dude who needs to be in control, it’s easy to tell. But now Boromir’s not so sure Aragorn’s up to it, since he seemed to rely on Gandalf so much. 

And then Aragorn tells them all they’re going to go through the Golden Wood. Now Boromir knows from the Rohirrim and Gondorian legend that the Golden Wood is Strange And Scary And Dangerous And Men Who Walk in Never Walk Out Again. And he says this, politely. Aragorn tells him he’s foolish for fearing it and essentially that if people got hurt in the Golden Wood then they deserved it. Again, despite the general discourtesy of these comments, Boromir chooses to believe Aragorn’s judgement. 

The next thing that happens is they are accosted by Haldir, treated like possible enemies or spies (despite Haldir admitting that Elrond had already told them they were coming) and a day and a lot of dwarfphobia later Haldir is threatening Gimli with death. No I’m not joking, Haldir says there’s a law dwarves can’t come into Lothlorien without a blindfold. And when Gimli gets justifiably angry about this and wants to go back if he’s being treated this way, Haldir says he WILL be killed if he tries to leave. Weapons are drawn! The only reason this de-escalates is because Aragorn suggests they all go blindfold because ‘it is hard on the dwarf to be so singled out’. I cannot express to you how soon this happens after Aragorn assures everyone that Lothlorien is safe. I also cannot emphasise enough how Gimli does absolutely nothing to deserve this, he’s polite and kind as ever until Haldir instigates it. 

So again!! Another mark against Aragorn’s reliability! And then we come to the CRUX of the matter, the meeting with Galadriel and Celeborn. 

A lot happens here, some of it very funny in terms of Galadriel’s treatment of Celeborn, but the important part is at the end where Galadriel mind-interrogates all the fellowship but Aragorn and Legolas. Again, this isn’t subtext, in-text it says interrogate. And the fellowship discusses it afterwards. Gimli, Sam, Merry and Frodo all agree that ‘Galadriel offered them a choice, to go back home where they would be safe, or to continue on with the quest though there may be far greater perils ahead’. 

But that couldn’t have been the choice she gave Boromir. Because he can’t go home to be safe and sound away from the evil!! He lives there!! This has been Boromir’s fight his whole life, it has never BEEN a choice for him. And from this moment on Boromir’s manner changes dramatically. He questions Frodo about what Galadriel asked him, he expresses concern about Galadriel’s motives, he says he believes she was TEMPTING HIM (remember that for later), concerns which are, once again, sharply and cruelly dismissed by Aragorn. 

There is then a MONTH of a time skip, we get descriptions of the how the other fellowship spend their time in Lothlorien. Gimli and Legolas become friends. Everyone else grieves Gandalf and has a lovely time in Lothlorien... apparently. 

But Boromir has never had any real positive feelings toward Gandalf and did not show any real grief at his loss initially. And whereas the rest of the fellowship seems respectful and awed by Galadriel and Celeborn, Boromir replies to their questions at the end of the fellowship’s stay in Lothlorien with what I would call veiled anger. `As for me,' said Boromir, `my way home lies onward and not back.' Which is a callback to the interrogation, the stark difference between the motivations and priorities of the rest of the Fellowship in comparison to Boromir. Which became VERY obvious to him in that moment. So I would posit that! Boromir did not have a good time at all! Boromir was stuck somewhere he felt unsafe and unwelcome and every extra second they spent in Lothlorien was yet another moment he was away from his currently-at-war home!!! 

Anyway just before they leave the fellowship is privately discussing what road they should take when Boromir makes a slip of the tongue, where he’d always been articulate and clear before. 

‘But if you wish to destroy the armed might of the Dark Lord, then it is folly to go without force into his domain; and folly to throw away-’ He paused suddenly, as if he had become aware that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. `It would be folly to throw lives away, I mean.'

It is very obvious to Frodo what he actually meant here, and this is where essentially Frodo’s inner monologue lays it all out!

Frodo caught something new and strange in Boromir's glance, and he looked hard at him. Plainly Boromir's thought was different from his final words. It would be folly to throw away: what? The Ring of Power? He had said something like this at the Council, but then he had accepted the correction of Elrond.

The important points in this section are that 1: Boromir has started thinking about the Ring of Power as something usable. 2: He did not think this before now, he had accepted Elrond’s words. This is ‘new and strange’. Something changed here. 

And of course it did! Boromir doesn’t trust any of these clowns anymore. 

Boromir’s advice, priorities and concerns have been almost entirely ignored and derided throughout the fellowship, even from the very moment he arrived in Rivendell! And after nearly freezing on a mountain, being chased by wargs, dragged through a mine of Orcs, a Balrog, threatened by supposed allies and then mind invaded by some elf he’s told to be in awe of, whatever will he had to trust and stay faithful to Aragorn’s decisions is barely hanging on. 

And Galadriel didn’t just invade Boromir’s mind, she was tempting him! He says so himself! And considering the circumstances and how he speaks about it, the only logical conclusion is that she is tempting him with the ring, because Boromir’s shown no sign of conflict or interest in the ring before now. So Galadriel was the one who put that concept into his mind in the first place. It’s Galadriel who initiates Boromir thinking again on whether this was in Gondor’s best interests. And Boromir recognises she’s trying to manipulate him!! Which is fucking heartbreaking!! 

'To me it seemed exceedingly strange,' said Boromir. `Maybe it was only a test, and she thought to read our thoughts for her own good purpose; but almost I should have said that she was tempting us, and offering what she pretended to have the power to give.’ (--)  `Well, have a care! ' said Boromir. `I do not feel too sure of this Elvish Lady and her purposes.'  `Speak no evil of the Lady Galadriel! ' said Aragorn sternly. 'You know not what you say. There is in her and in this land no evil, unless a man bring it hither himself. Then let him beware!’

Do you see?? Do you all see?? Am I making any sense at all?? Well I make sense to ME so lets continue- Here, you see how Aragorn puts all the blame on Boromir again? The twisted knot Boromir is in at this point is unfathomable and EVEN STILL! Boromir resists! For a very long time! This is what I mean when I say any characterisations of Boromir being overemotional or somehow out of control get at me so much, NEVER has a man had so much self discipline in his wholeass life. Boromir’s entire civilisation could be being bulldozed by Minas Morgul at this very moment and yet he takes everything that’s thrown at him without malice and internally continues to desperately hold onto his integrity. 

But that’s what’s at stake! His integrity! Because now he’s grappling with what seems like a choice to either keep faith with the fellowship, stay with them and go where they go despite how much his country needs him, or potentially do something drastic in order to bring a the powerful weapon Gondor seems to have ALWAYS been looking for home to finally actually save his people. Because that’s what Galadriel offered him! And whilst he doesn’t trust her, it’s also in his head now as a logical thing to want! He doesn’t trust Elrond either at this point, so why should he believe what he said about the ring! It’s obvious everyone has boundless ulterior motives!!

Oh! Here’s a good place to try and explain my theory of how the ring’s temptation actually works. The Ring can control people one of two ways. The first we see with Frodo and with Boromir, it takes FULL control of their actions for a split second when they are vulnerable. For Frodo it made him put it on on Weathertop. For Boromir it made him attack Frodo. However this effect is exceedingly temporary and the person effected immediately comes back into themselves and recognises that what they did was outside of their control. 

The other way is often thought of as this like pervasive constant pull to the ring that effects you even just by being around it, wearing you down etc. But I don’t think that’s what happens. I think, in order for the ring to start exerting real dangerous persistant power over you, you have to know it’s power and logically want it. You have to come to that conception yourself, you have to think about it. 

And I have a lot of reasons for this but where it pertains here-!! Boromir is a fine, reliable and solid member of the fellowship RIGHT up until Galadriel’s mind meld. It’s not gradual, he goes from making jokes, carrying Hobbits and fighting Balrogs to BARELY being able to control his speech and biting his nails and staring at Frodo creepily. There is barely any easing into it and it starts with Galadriel!!

And you know what! There’s an even more sinister layer to this because like... WHY was Galadriel doing this mind stuff in the first place? An immediate obvious answer would be to test the fellowship, to make sure everyone was solid enough to carry on, to ensure the folk who continued were focused. But... If that’s the case... and Boromir’s test was the Ring... like... he obviously failed that test right? She was reading his mind! And she does it again before they leave! If we’re to assume that Galadriel’s mind powers are greater than Boromir’s ability to deflect them then... surely she would have known! That this turmoil was in him! And if she KNEW then why didn’t she say anything to anyone? To Aragorn?? But I don’t think yall are ready for that discussion yet tbh and I have to stop typing or I’ll go blind.

TL;DR Boromir didn’t want the Ring until Galadriel tempted him with it and made the idea of it saving Gondor a possibility to him. 

[toomanyf4ndoms7]

Mortal Kombat: Quest of the kamidogu: A change of pace.

Summary: Reaching the final realm of his journey, Shujinko can’t wait to finally put this quest to an end.

Chapter List.

Chapter list part two.

As Shujinko exited the swirling light blue portal to Edenia, the first thing he noticed was how… peaceful everything was.

The grass was lovely and vibrant, people peacefully conducting their lives without a hint of despair or anger. In the distance stood a shining spire of a magnificent castle.

It felt just like an old fairytale kingdom. Damashi ruined this peaceful moment with his omnipresent command.

“Welcome to the final stage of your journey. The Edenian kamidogu is hidden somewhere in this realm.”

Shujinko narrowed his eyes. Before Damashi could leave, he has to explain a few things.

“These kamidogu seem quite important. I believe I am owed an explanation of their purpose.”

A sigh.

“If it will serve to emphasise the importance of your duties, I fail to see why not. Aeons ago,

before the creation of the realms, there were only the Elder Gods and the One Being. The One Being fed off the Elder Gods -- it consumed them.”

Shujinko was astonished. A being that fed on the Elder Gods? Damashi continued his history lesson.

“A war raged in the timeless void until six Elder Gods forged the Kamidogu and used them to splinter the One Being into the many realms.”

“I am humbled by the scope of what you have told me. However, I fail to see why my help is necessary.”

“The Elder gods detected a plot where a being seemed to use the power of the kamidogu to merge the realms and gain ultimate power over reality. Your task has been to safeguard them where none can use them for nefarious purposes.”

Shujinko bowed, now understanding more than ever.

“I see. Thank you for being so forthcoming with me. I will return the Edenian kamidogu as soon as I can.”

“I know, but, please, feel free to explore. You have earned some leisure time.”

Damashi disappeared again, and Shujinko began making his way down the path to the city.

————————————————————————

Shujinko spent some time walking around the Edenian city. There were people selling jewellery, clothes, pies that were delectable enough to be famous throughout the realms, it was almost too good to be true.

Shujinko purchased himself a set of beige coloured robes with the currency he had amassed along his journeys. If this were to be his final adventure, he should prepare for his retirement.

But, he couldn’t think about that yet, he had to find Jade.

On the way to find her, Shujinko saw a man dressed in purple. He asked the man’s name, whose response was arrogant and self aggrandising.

“My name is Rain, a mighty warrior you would do well not to cross.”

Shujinko had to suppress the rolling of his eyes. Was he ever this arrogant? He hoped not.

“Apologies, Rain. I did not mean you any distress.”

A huff.

“You caused me nothing but annoyance. But, if you can help me, I may forget your transgressions.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I am in need of a hiding place, find one for me, and I will reward you handsomely.”

Shujinko quickly left the scene, though out of annoyance rather than fear. It seemed not everyone in this place was welcoming.

He had no intention of helping Rain, the ninja didn’t seem the friendliest type and wouldn’t help him with his duties.

————————————————————————

After some time asking civilians about Jade’s whereabouts, Shujinko found her outside a cave surrounded by men and women dressed in coloured garbs, though each person was slightly personalised with trinkets, emblems, or even hairstyles varying between each one. He could hear Jade speaking to a small group.

“Rain may be an assassin, but his stealth is lacking. Keep searching, he cannot be allowed to roam free.”

“Yes, General.”

A man dressed in a white and blue uniform pointed at Shujinko with a short sword.

“My captain, we have an intruder.”

Jade turned around, looking Shujinko up and down. Her attire was different than the last time the two had met, now more respectful and dignified than the simple leotard she had been seen wearing.

“I see no intruder, merely an old man who may have taken a few wrong turns. Tell me, what’s your name?”

“My name is Shujinko, lady Jade. It is a pleasure to see you once more.”

Jade’s eyes widened before they narrowed again.

“What business have you here?”

“I have been asked to deliver to you an urgent message.”

“It will have to wait. My companions and I are searching for a man called Rain.”

Shujinko’s eyes widened. Rain seemed arrogant, but was he worthy of such an investigation?

“What has he done to warrant such an investigation?”

The man in white and blue began explaining, disdain dripping from every word.

“Rain was once a member of the Edenian resistance fighters. But when he was refused command, he joined Shao Kahn and exposed one of our bases. The blood of many is on his hands.”

A woman in turquoise who was nonchalantly leaning against a tree have her own addition.

“Also, he’s insufferably irritating to interact with.”

“That too.”

Jade ceased the chatter with a glare before returning to Shujinko.

“Anyway. If you find him, return here at once. He must pay for his crimes.”

“A sound plan, Jade. I must inform you that he told me he searches for a hiding place. Perhaps you can use it to your advantage.”

Jade put her hand to her chin.

“He searches for a hiding place, does he? Tell him of this cave, when he arrives we will ambush him.”

Shujinko nodded, agreeing with the plan as he jogged off to find Rain.

————————————————————————

Shujinko found Rain was still lurking behind the boulder, a water bubble floating in his hand.

“I have found a cave to the southeast. It should serve your purposes well.”

At Shujinko’s news, Rain crushed the ball in his hand.

“Excellent. As a reward for your assistance, I shall spare your life.”

Rain jogged in the direction of the cave, and Shujinko sneakily followed. He was eager to see this arrogant fool get what was coming to him.

Hiding outside the cave, Shujinko heard Rain’s voice.

“Hm, a tad crude, but this will serve my purposes well-

There was the sound of metal hitting someone’s head, and then the sound of a body hitting the ground. Shujinko left the cover to observe the sight before him.

Rain was unconscious on the ground, surrounded by members of the Edenian resistance. Jade had her hands on her hips, looking pleased with herself.

“I see that the ambush was a success.”

“Indeed. For a ninja he is not very stealthy. Your assistance is quite appreciated. Take these coins, with my thanks.”

Jade gave Shujinko seven jade coins, which may have been the same ones he gave to her so many years ago. He pocketed them before he spoke to Jade again.

“I hate to be an inconvenience, but I have to pass an urgent message.”

Shujinko pulled out the envelope and handed it to the general. Jade opened it up, unfolded the message within and scanned her eyes across the page.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will head to Outworld at once.”

Jade turned to a woman dressed in red.

“Ruby, please ensure that Rain is bound and imprisoned. The last thing we need is for him to slip through our fingers again.”

The woman in turquoise spoke again.

“Can we gag him?”

Jade looked down at Rain’s unconscious body, and Shujinko could swear she was smirking behind the mask.

“Certainly, Maya.”

Maya cheered, and Shujinko felt his spirits lift for a moment.

————————————————————————

With the matter of Kitana’s letter to Jade taken care of, the next order of business was the kamidogu.

He remembered hearing of a queen. If anyone would know about a powerful item, it might be the ruler.

Shujinko entered the Edenian castle, only to find a pair of knights hold their weapons at his throat.

“Who are you?”

“Calm down, I mean no harm to anyone here. I only wish to speak with your queen.”

Although their helmets obscured their faces, Shujinko could sense their internal conflicts. The put down their weapons and stood aside.

“The throne room is just ahead.”

Shujinko nodded, taking out a pair of ruby coins. And passing a few to the knights.

“As payment for your help.”

Shujinko entered the throne room, finding a woman dressed in a dark purple and black leotard with golden accessories befitting royalty. She wore boots that went up to her thigh and her head was filled with long white hair that contained a black stripe down the middle. The most piercing thing about her were her white eyes which lacked pupils that he had seen among the denizens of the netherrealm. Was she an undead? She certainly didn’t look the part.

Shujinko coughed averting his gaze as the woman looked at him with a steel gaze

“Are you Queen Sindel?”

“I am. Who are you?”

“My name is Shujinko. I am on a quest from the elder gods.”

At hearing his name, Sindel’s expression became one of respect rather than curiosity.

“Shujinko? I have heard of you. My daughter sent me letters of her progress in the siege against Shao Kahn.”

Shujinko smirked.

“Good things, I hope?”

“Of course. I have heard that you are quite well traveled.”

Shujinko scratched the back of his head. He never thought he’d be given such respect by royalty. Especially considering his humble beginnings as a simple villager training in martial arts.

“I am honoured, my queen. I never thought of myself as someone worthy of praise from one such as you.”

Silence reigned between them, both comfort in each other’s company. Then Sindel spoke again.

“As a payment for you assisting my daughter in her battle against Shao Kahn, I offer to teach you the ways of an Edenian knight.”

Shujinko was shocked, she would just do that? Teach him the ways of her guards?

“I am humbled, my lady. I accept your offer.”

Sindel nodded, before standing from her throne and beckoning Shujinko to follow her to an outside area.

“Come, I will escort you to a training ground.”

The area was grassy and pleasant, like the realm itself. Sindel cleared her throat, drawing Shujinko’s attention.

The queen now had a purple pole arm with a blade at the point. She carried it with a confidence of a trained warrior.

“Now, your training begins.”

————————————————————————

Despite Sindel’s regal and polite attitude fitting to her position, her skill was no less sharpened. She specialised in navigating around opponents and punishing their own moves. Her skill with her pole arm was nothing to scoff at either, though she held back to prevent any major damage to her student.

But, the most fascinating thing about training with Sindel was her sonic scream attack. With a powerful yell, she could stun an opponent to gain the upper hand.

Despite all of these abilities and skills, Shujinko’s gift allowed him to learn her skills and fight her to a standstill.

Sindel, now smiling, stood up straight with her Kwan Dao by her side.

“Please, kneel.”

Shujinko did as he was told. Sindel placed the blade on one shoulder, then the other, while reciting a speech.

“By the power in me as the queen of Edenia and a former member of the Edenian knights, I now bestow upon you the title of our protector.”

Shujinko felt the steel lightly touch his hair. Sindel spoke again now filled with a small pride.

You are now officially knighted.”

Shujinko looked up to the woman.

“I am honoured, my lady.”

“Polite and skilled? Quite a rarity these days.”

Shujinko stood back to his feet.

“I am grateful for your training, lady Sindel, but I must find the Kamidogu. Would you have any ideas as to where I would find it?”

At the mention of the kamidogu, Sindel’s eyebrows went up.

“The kamidogu? Is that related to your quest?”

Shujinko nodded.

“Indeed. I have been informed that a great evil is searching for them, and I have been keeping them out of their hands.”

Sindel turned her attention to an unknown subject.

“In that case…”

Sindel called to a guard dressed in a light purple suit of armour. Her helmet was removed, exposing her long brown hair. There was something in her hands, a piece of half eaten Edenian pie.

“Excuse me? Willow?”

The knight, realising her position, jumped at the sound of her queen’s voice.

“Yes, my queen?”

“This man is searching for one of our treasures. Could you please bring out the golden locket from the treasury?”

The woman nodded, quickly finishing her pie before jogging away.

After a few minutes, the woman returned and passed Sindel a small golden case.

“Thank you, you may return to your leisure.”

The knight jogged away, and Sindel opened the case to reveal a glowing treasure. It was a circular yin-yang symbol with a pair of small curved blades at the sides. One half was yellow, the other was white.

“This is the Edenian kamidogu. Deliver it to the gods, they will know what to do.”

Shujinko took the treasure and placed it in his pocket.

“Thank you, Sindel. I hope your daughter returns to you soon.”

Sindel sighed.

“As do I. Even though I know she is more than capable, I still can’t quite repress that instinct to protect her.”

“The woes of parenthood?”

“A gift. Good day, champion.”

Shujinko bowed and left the castle, with his final kamidogu in pocket.

————————————————————————

Exiting the castle out into the streets, Shujinko was intercepted by his guide.

“You have found the final kamidogu of your journey. Well done, Shujinko. Truly.”

“Yes. I was just on my way to return it to the nexus.”

“Since you have acquired the six kamidogu, I will be receiving a physical form as a gift from the Elder Gods. My rebirth shall be in Outworld.”

Shujinko was unable to hide his smile. It seemed they would both get what they wanted.

“That is wonderful news, old friend. Perhaps you and I may meet.”

A chuckle.

“Indeed. Perhaps sooner than you think. Until we meet again, champion.”

Damashi vanished and Shujinko was left to ponder.

“Why would Damashi return in Outworld?”

He shook such thoughts aside as he made his way to the nexus portal.

It was time to finally bring this quest to an end.

[silveryinkystar]

Two Houses (both alike in dignity)

Rating: Gen

Characters: CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker

Summary:

 [“Did you not just hear what those sleemos said?” Commander Skywalker’s voice was high, loud, and grating in all the ways that Rex couldn’t care for at the moment with his splitting headache. “How can you just let them say those things, it’s – it’s –”

“I don’t disagree with you, Padawan,” General Kenobi said softly, shifting slightly so that Cody’s armour wasn’t digging into his back, “but your anger is not going to help you right now.”]

--

Or; a lesson in controlling emotion, from a certain point of view (or few).

Jedi June Appreciation Event | Saturday, June 5: There is no emotion, there is peace.

[Read on Ao3]

“Did you not just hear what those sleemos said?” Commander Skywalker’s voice was high, loud, and grating in all the ways that Rex couldn’t care for at the moment with his splitting headache. “How can you just let them say those things, it’s – it’s –”

“I don’t disagree with you, Padawan,” General Kenobi said softly, shifting slightly so that Cody’s armour wasn’t digging into his back, “but your anger is not going to help you right now.”

“You – it’s like you don’t even care –”

“Have I given any impression of that when we actually have the time to care? My priority at the moment is to get our men to a safe location and call for a medevac. As much as those comments incensed me, I cannot allow myself to be distracted by my own feelings right now. Not when it’ll do more harm than good.”

Rex supposed that it was some Jedi philosophy that the General was quoting, but he could see the reasoning behind it too. Although he found it a bit surprising that Skywalker didn’t seem to agree. After a few more minutes of this back-and-forth exchange, General Kenobi sighed and ushered the Commander away for scouting duty.

“Nice move, sir,” he said dryly, wincing when his hastily splinted leg caught on a particularly large stone. Kenobi smiled and extended his hand, which Rex eyed warily.

“You should get some weight off that foot, Captain,” he said mildly, shifting Cody to a single shoulder. “And I can bear your weight without issues, since I’m currently uninjured.”

“General, with due respect, you’re already carrying Cody. Injured or not, it’ll tire you out quicker than supporting just one of us.”

But Kenobi simply quirked an eyebrow. “I know my limits, Rex, you needn’t worry about me. It shouldn’t be so far off, anyhow, Anakin doesn’t seem to be too distanced from us over our bond.”

Sighing, Rex relented – his leg did hurt like hell, and if they needed to get into action quickly, he couldn’t afford to worsen the injury pre-emptively. Kenobi held him to his side with ease, and matched his unsteady hopping at a comfortable pace that wouldn’t strain his other leg too. It couldn’t have been comfortable with both Cody’s and his armour digging into his shoulder, but the man barely showed any signs of it, not even complaining once the way his insufferable brothers might have done.

“I sense you’re deep in thought, Captain,” Kenobi invited lightly, looking for the world like he was simply taking a walk along the corridors of the Negotiator, rather than holding up the weights of two fully armoured, grown men, without breaking step.

“It’s just… what you said to the Commander, earlier. Was it from the Jedi Code?”

He hummed. “It was and it wasn’t. It’s technically only a part of our philosophy, but given our nature of influence on the communities around us – and our use of the Force, Jedi are usually trained to manage their emotions effectively from a very young age.”

“I see.” Though he wondered what it would mean for nat-borns to learn those techniques, especially since they weren’t bred for psychological (well, and physical) hardiness the way the clones were.  He mentioned as much to the General, who momentarily had a strange look on his face before it smoothed into the usual geniality he’d begun to find comfort in.

“We provide any psychological help we can, of course,” he explained bluntly. “A lot of Jedi go through traumatic events in their lifetime, and while it’s not a flawless system – sometimes the situation at hand means that there’s simply not enough time to process things until much, much later – it helps. And aside from trauma, we still offer counselling to anyone who seeks it. Even if it’s for gentle reassurance about things people may consider to be trivial, or for specific issues that Initiates and Padawans approach them for, or for serious conditions that need long-term help and therapy, we don’t turn them away.”

It sounded like an incredible system, to Rex. “I’ve heard stories about the kind of missions Jedi usually go on,” he said carefully, “and I get what you mean about the trauma. But do you have the sort of infrastructure and support available at the scale that the war is producing?”

He snuck a sidelong glance at Kenobi, who appeared to be openly stunned at the question. Rex’s heart sank; had nobody asked the Jedi how they were doing since the beginning of the war?

Granted, only the Jedi had ever asked after the well-being of their troopers (other than their brothers themselves), but it was surprising to Rex that the group of people committed towards helping the galaxy around them got such little thanks for it. He knew that they never did it for the gratitude, but used their “gifts from the Force” for good as was their mandate (something they genuinely loved following, which delighted his brothers to listen to them about), but to see the way they were treated almost completely reflect the way that clones themselves were treated was unsettling.

That a simple check-in based on what new knowledge he’d gained had surprised a member of the Council, a leading representative of the Order who would have interacted with enough dignitaries to actually be privy to the thanks the Jedi may get, was even more upsetting.

Rex wondered if this was what the Jedi usually felt whenever they saw brothers being mistreated, and while he filed his indignation away for later, he thought he understood why Skywalker had reacted the way he had, before Kenobi had sent him off on his errand.

“I’m not sure that we do,” Kenobi confessed quietly. “We’ll continue to do our best, of course. We won’t turn people away when they need all the help they can get. But we may have to reorganise our structure, which is… disheartening.”

Rex personally thought that it was a lot more than disheartening, but he’d keep that to himself and make plans with his brothers later. He suspected a lot of nights of brothers coaxing their Jedi to talk to them, wheedling their burdens away from them as much as they could and sharing them together. Cody was going to be impossible when he was healed enough to know any of this, but Rex wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Master!” Skywalker winced at his own volume when multiple soldiers around him flinched, apologising quickly under his breath. “There’s an… alcove? Some form of shelter nearby, it looks naturally formed – and there are a few cave systems close by which look abandoned, they’re probably safe for us to stay in while we wait.”

“Very good, Anakin. Did you check the systems for unfriendly inhabitants?”

“They’re completely clear, Master. There’s no sign of life in them, but there are signs that people have camped there previously. Ashes in a fire pit, and so on. But they don’t look recent.”

“I suspect those caves may be a traveller’s lounge, now,” he said wryly, and Rex snorted. “Lead us on our way, then, my apprentice.”

Skywalker nodded eagerly, before giving a few troopers directions and setting up a new purposeful pace. Rex grimaced when he realised that this meant speeding up, but somehow Kenobi managed to find a new pace between them that didn’t jostle his ankle too much even as they moved faster than before.

Soon enough, they’d slipped past the alcove into the cave systems and set up a steady watch cycle while moving off to provide more medical attention to the injured troops. The campaign had been hard on them all, and where brothers weren’t injured, they looked exhausted. Kenobi and Skywalker were among the few who looked like they would last longer than a few hours without immediately passing out, which he took to heart as a sign that the army had been wise to have the Jedi lead them instead of other nat-borns. Wolffe had vented to him about one of his older nat-born leaders who had managed to kriff up an entire mission to save his own skin, and that it was thanks to the crazy plans of Generals Koon and Fisto that they’d emerged alive, if not entirely whole, from that battlefield.

He’d emphasised the word “whole” too, indicating the massive bandage around his head where Ventress had sliced his eye out during her escape.

Skywalker had taken it up to himself to restart the old argument they’d had on the road while Kenobi helped Rex sit against the wall of the cave before gently setting Cody down and looking him over for specific injuries.

“Anakin, it’s not that I wouldn’t defend them, but my assessment of the situation meant that leaving quickly and ignoring the heckling was the best way to proceed. If I’d stood around and verbalised my defence of our men, I would have lost more men to injuries due to the time I would have wasted – yes, wasted, in relation to how quickly we managed to get them here!”

“You always say that we’re meant to defend others, to stand up for those who need us. And I’m not saying that they can’t do it, but…”

“Commander, permission to speak freely?”

Skywalker blinked when Rex spoke up directly, but nodded mutely.

“Permission granted,” Kenobi translated frankly, guessing that he wanted the verbal confirmation before he went for it.

“Thank you, sirs. General Kenobi’s right on this one. We appreciate your willingness to stand up for us, Commander, but at the time, it wasn’t what we needed. We needed a quick exit, and the situation may have gotten out of hand if we’d stayed and argued with them for longer. Even if we’d sent out a batch of scouts to find this place, we would have been stuck between waiting for a promise to help – one that would be uncertain, anyway – and trying to get people to that distance. As it is, a lot of the troops are close to critical condition.” He nodded at Cody’s prone form, and Kenobi’s look of concentration as he presumably stabilised his brother’s condition as best as he could without overtaxing himself.

“I thought you might say that you value a leader who sticks up for you,” Skywalker admitted. “Not that we won’t, but wouldn’t it be easier to trust us if you know that we’ll be your first line of defence without you needing to ask?”

“Pardon me, sir, but that sounds like banthash-”

“You make a fair point, Anakin,” Kenobi cut in smoothly with a heatless glare at Rex for his language. He fought back a snicker. “Actively, verbally making your allyship known to someone would bolster their confidence in you – but that’s in a situation where they’re safe enough to acknowledge and process it. Your anger is well-directed, my apprentice, and that is not what I find an issue with.”

“Sir, you’re not wrong that we appreciate you defending us,” Rex added carefully. “A lot of the men find it reassuring that you have our backs even off the battlefield. Especially the shinies, since the Kaminoans…”

Kenobi’s expression darkened a little, but he nodded encouragingly even as he carefully unwrapped Rex’s ankle. Rex hissed when the man felt around the break, but aside from a quick apology, all he received was the request to keep talking.

“But… on the battlefield, if we stuck around defending each other without paying attention to the bigger picture – ow – we’d all be dead in seconds. We’re trained to push those impulses away. Not that we have those coping mechanisms you Jedi talk about,” he added wryly, wincing when Kenobi re-wrapped the ankle in a fresh bacta-soaked bandage. Where he even found the bacta, he didn’t know, considering the General hadn’t moved from where he was kneeling before Rex the entire time.

Must be some Force nonsense, he thought to himself.

“So… how do you manage it?” Skywalker squatted down next to Kenobi, frowning at him. “As Jedi, we’re also taught to put aside our emotions, but…”

“It’s not so much about putting them aside as… well, I suppose Captain Rex would be able to help you here, a lot more than I could, given the way we each process things.”

Rex supposed that it had to do with how calm General Kenobi always was. Of course, the man felt things – he’d seen him determined, elated, exasperated and even downright irritated sometimes, but the depth of emotion he expressed outwardly was remarkably controlled. And for all that he felt emotions, they never quite seemed to be so intense, in the way he himself experienced his feelings. He was just good at setting them aside or using them as a drive for his actions.

“Well… that anger you showed earlier – it can be performative if it isn’t followed through. The men need affirmation that you’ll stick with them on and off the battlefield, so I’m not saying that you should stop defending us if that’s what you’ll continue to do anyway, but… we spend our whole lives justifying our right to live. On Kamino…” Kriff, he’s never said this to anyone before – a brother would understand, and whyever would a Jedi want to hear this–

But they did want to hear. And Rex, upon really thinking about it, found that he wanted to tell them.

“On Kamino,” he repeated slowly, “it was always something with the trainers. Not to mention the Kaminoans themselves. If we weren’t the best, certain… actions were taken. Please don’t ask me to get into specifics,” he added hurriedly when Skywalker started glowering, “but we’ve always had to put our success over ourselves. Not in the way that you Jedi prioritise a mission, but…”

“In an almost self-destructive manner,” Kenobi surmised, looking about as close to angry as Rex had ever seen him.

“Yessir. It’s kind of… habit, now, for us to channel our emotions into the battlefield – you’ll find a lot of brothers who refuse to voice their thoughts but let out their aggression in the field, because it’s the only way they’ve learned how. And by doing that, they learned that they can keep more of their brothers safe. So… when General Kenobi says that your anger isn’t helpful, it’s because it’s… reactionary? It resolves your emotions, but doesn’t really do much after that.”

Skywalker nodded slowly. “I think I get it now.”

“With anger,” General Kenobi said softly, “it’s purely, ah, performative, as Captain Rex put it. You can yell at someone for a while, toss them around if you’re that type of person, and sometimes it’ll give you short-term relief, but it doesn’t achieve anything good in the long run. But if you channelled all that anger into something else, let it go and focused on the next action rather than the reaction…”

“‘There is no emotion, there is peace’?” Skywalker quoted, and Kenobi nodded.

“Precisely, Padawan. Act with intention, with rational thought, not with emotion.”

“So I should just cast my feelings aside? I don’t think I could hold them off. I’ve tried.”

“Holding them off isn’t the goal, Anakin, but shifting your focus is. Think of it this way – Rex, you dual-wield blasters, right?”

Rex nodded, wondering where this was going.

“Which means you’d need to be aware of both of those weapons in the field – how they weigh, the recoil on them, and managing your aim with both hands.”

“Yes, sir. If I got careless, I’d shoot a brother, or either of you.”

“Which brings me to my point – while you were still in training, you would have had to do it all consciously, right? Think about each of those elements, get used to the weight of your blasters if you replaced them, figure out how you can do every one of those small checks faster and faster until they became instinct.”

He nodded again, catching on. “Act with intention until it’s instinct.”

“Precisely! Now, if you were to act too hastily based on an emotion, how do you think that would work?”

The reply is instantaneous. “I might misfire. Forget to check my gear, or my aim, or my hands may be too shaky. And if the shot goes wide, even if I don’t hit a brother or either of you, that means there’s one more droid in the battlefield that could kill us all at any point of time. It’s about them, not me.”

“You think of yourself as a part of a whole, and as a whole. And it’s usually the former that gains precedence here,” Kenobi completed, pleased. “Anakin, it’s not so much that your feelings are invalid or too strong in that they must be held off, but you must be aware that their strength does not consume your judgement in decision-making.”

The Commander bit his lip, but nodded. “Okay, Master.”

It wasn’t the best confirmation that he’d actually understood, but evidently Kenobi was satisfied, so Rex dropped it.

“I wasn’t expecting a philosophical discussion today, though,” the General murmured to him when Skywalker moved off to mingle with the other troopers – and probably to help, if their talk had been any indication. “Has it occurred to you that the theory that you often share about yourselves often mirrors what we learn as Jedi, if with different reasoning behind it?”

“Sir, Cody’s always said that the Jedi are the closest it gets to a nat-born understanding us clones,” he said bluntly. “And you’ve said that the reverse is true.”

“I suppose it’s why we work together so well,” he said, smiling up at him.

Rex couldn’t help but agree.

[jamaiskookie]

How To Ask Your Crush Out: A Guide For Dummies [knj x reader]

⚖ warnings: intense amount of crack and very very trashy writing 

⚖ word count: 3.3k (very smol boi today, just wanted to get this little drabble out)

⚖ genre: crackity fluff; my specialty :-)

⚖ A/N: been preparing for halloween so forgive me for the short fic, i’ve been pUMPING out content for you guys recently. 

masterlist asks 

⚖ synopsis: Prof. Kim Namjoon is pleased and delighted to present his new class: How To Ask Your Crush Out For Dummies; A comprehensive, follow-along six step guide for the introverted and shy. 

A triumphant Kim Namjoon jumps into frame in front of the huge chalkboard in a huge lecture hall, holding a piece of white chalk in one hand and a pointer in the other, with a slightly maniacal grin stretched on his face. His black thick rimmed glasses are crooked and skewed, sitting on the bridge of his nose, completely lopsided. He’s been awake for- oh he doesn’t keep count. Possibly 28 hours by now. 

“Good afternoon, everyone!”  (It’s 6 in the morning, and nobody is in the audience.) He stretches out the long, metal chalkboard pointer, who he has named Bertha, and smacks it against the chalkboard. It echoes through the empty hall. He secretly loves the sound the long pointer makes. It’s so satisfying, and the fact that he got it on Amazon Prime for only like 2 dollars makes the sound so much better. 

“Welcome to today’s class!” He’s still talking to an empty room. It might be the desperation in him, or just his good ole’ friend sleep deprivation fueling his somewhat insane behaviour. “Today I am completely focused on solving the greatest mystery I have ever encountered in my lifetime. Arguably, this is the most scrutinised cold case ever seen in the world. Today we’ll be tackling: How To Ask Your Crush Out. Would anybody like to start off by introducing themselves, their crush, and how long you’ve been infatuated? Hm?” Crickets. 

“Ah, there’s nobody here!” Namjoon exclaims cheerfully, as if he only just realised. He swings back, turning to the chalkboard and continues teaching. “My name is Kim Namjoon, or Professor Kim to you,” Again, completely empty room. “And I have had a crush on Y/N L/N for almost two years now.” His smile falters when he realises it really has been two whole years. Clearing his throat, he smacks an A3 sized picture of a pretty girl onto the chalkboard. 

You are wearing a long cardigan sweater in the photo, candidly reading with headphones wrapped around your neck. Namjoon has written a barely visible small ‘Y/N, October 4th’ on the top corner of the picture. He’s always had a bit of a photography hobby, but his pictures always seem to turn out better when you are the subject. 

It’s a bit odd how you look so much better when you don’t know he’s taking a photo. All the selfies and old pictures from university he has of you are just as beautiful, but there’s something ethereal about you in your natural state. Sitting down and reading a book in a library. That photo is miles better than any of the stupidly extensive photo-ops you plan out for your Instagram pictures. He stares at the photo before turning back to the (imaginary) class. 

“Let me introduce the- as the kids say- lomél. I believe this is an abbreviation for Love Of My Life. L-O-M-L, if anybody wants to write the spelling down.” He swerves Bertha around to point at your picture. “This,” He says, seriously. “Is Y/N L/N, my… my friend since freshman year of university. I have never confessed my feelings to her, despite trying many, many times. Today, we’re going to trouble-shoot and hopefully solve this problem, while examining a shy person’s abilities to socialise and freely have a love life.”  Namjoon ignores the small voice in his head that mentions how a successful Philosophy professor who speaks in front of hundreds of students every day such as himself should be able to say ‘I like you’ to the girl he’s had a painfully obvious crush on for the past two years. 

“Step ONE:” Namjoon yells, writing a big ‘1’ on the chalkboard. “Do not start off a confession by mentioning a Confucius quote if your crush is not in the philosophy or ethics community! They will not understand no matter how obvious it is!” On the chalkboard, he draws an old man with droopy eyebrows and huge beard- Confucius. Then he draws a huge circle around it and crosses it out with a line using so much force he almost breaks the piece of chalk in his hand. 

“In fact, just don’t mention anything about philosophers! And don’t try to confess to them through a math problem, they will not understand!” Namjoon winces. He learned that one the hard way. (He asked you to isolate ‘1’ in ⅓ < 3, which is a seventh-grade level inequality. You had pushed him away and yelled at him for making you do math. The answer to the inequality equation would have been 1 < 3u.) ((1 < 3u = I <3 you. He thought it was pretty obvious.)) 

He draws a subtraction and addition sign and draws another circle, crossing through it. 

“Step TWO!” Namjoon shouts, cringing at the horrible scratchy noise the chalk makes against the board. “If you do get the chance to confess to them and manage to get through without substantially embarrassing yourself, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT laugh and agree if they ask if you are joking! They will! Laugh along with you! While you try! To hide your pain!” 

“I cannot emphasise this enough!” Namjoon is basically screaming by now. He hopes nobody from campus comes in to complain. The picture of you on the board with the symbols that he’s drawn along with the big ‘FLIRTING AND DATING 101’ written on the top of the board could lead to some severe misunderstandings. “Do not laugh if that ever happens again- I mean, if it ever happens to you! It’s more likely than you would think if you are in love with a dumbass! It will happen! Misinterpretations and concerns will happen! Learn from them!” Namjoon writes a huge ‘laughing to hide the pain = bad ❌’ onto the board. 

“Does anybody have any questions?” More crickets. 

“Okay then, moving on!” Namjoon writes a ‘3’ below the notes for step 2. “Step THREE: Confessing via call, facetime, or handwritten letter would be optimal for the average introvert. I suggest a handwritten letter would be best for this kind of confession. Still not ideal, but it gets the job done. Can someone tell me why a handwritten letter would be better than a call, facetime, or anything on the internet?” Without waiting for his non-existent introvert class to respond, he snaps his fingers, a satisfied look on his face. “That’s right! Facetiming or hearing your crush’s voice would be too nerve wracking and inevitably, you’ll mess up and say something like ‘Did you know that Barbie’s real name is Barbara Millicent Roberts’ instead of ‘I’ve liked you for two years’...  I do not speak from experience.” 

Awkwardly, he clears his throat again, averting his eyes from literally nobody. “Texting would not be good! Texting is considered insensitive and is not a good way to confess your feelings. If the idea of a face to face confession is too intimidating or not ideal in your introverted situation, the aforementioned options would be your best choices. I strongly advise you to stick to those three. In order of a likelihood for a successful confession, it goes: Letter, facetime, then call.” He writes ‘letter > facetime > call > speaking in real life (?)’ on the board.

“hoWEVER,” He says, pointing at the large ‘3’ he wrote with Bertha. “If you do end up choosing to write a handwritten letter- write this down, this is an important note- do NOT forget to sign your name! Your crush will end up throwing it away thinking it’s a random admirer or a prank. MAKE SURE TO WRITE THIS DOWN!” On the board, he writes down ‘My name → Kim Namjoon.’ He nods thoughtfully. “Yes,” He says. “It’s important to write your name.” He mutters it over and over, staring glazed at the words written on the board. 

Close to bursting into tears, he grabs a hold of his hair and cradles his head in his hands. “Why didn’t you write your fucking name, Namjoon?” He frustratingly mutters to himself. Sighing, he puts his hands on his waist, marvelling at what he’d written so far. The peaceful silence doesn’t last for very long. 

“STEP NUMBER FOUR!” It’s not like him to be so loud. It’s probably a good, balanced combination of his lack of sleep and being alone with his inner thoughts. He’s pretty sure he has an alternate personality who thinks he’s Freud. Freud occasionally throws in some pretty deep psychoanalysis prompts for him to consider when he can’t sleep. 

“If… And only if you build up the courage to ask her out in person-! Well, firstly, congratulations, we’re all very proud of you. Secondly, do it in public! You might be thinking, Professor Kim, why on earth would I want to do it in public? Getting rejected in public is so much more horrible!? Well, BELIEVE ME, UNBELIEVERS- Getting rejected in public is sO much better than getting rejected in private! Due to our tendency to not draw attention to ourselves and the way we like to shrink in public, it’s much more likely that we won’t break down in tears if we get rejected in public! Well, once you get back home, you might start breaking down, so maybe this is just a temporary solution, but it’s still better than sobbing in front of your crush when you devastatingly get rejected!” 

Knitting his brows together, Namjoon corrects himself. “Not when you get devastatingly rejected, sorry. If. If. Yes, if. If you get devastatingly rejected. Come to think of it, in a purely logical way, you have a 50/50 chance of succeeding in your confession. ‘I like you, do you like me?’ That’s a yes or no question, isn’t it? A confession is exactly the same as flipping a coin! You have a 50% chance of getting heads, 50% chance of getting tails. Either way, you get on with your life despite getting heads or tails. So… the odds are kinda in your favour!” 

“Except when you flip a coin, you wouldn’t get nervous to the point where you accidentally push the coin into a mud filled pond where the coin’s favourite shirt got ruined so then the coin proceeded to ignore you for the next two weeks, making it the most miserable two weeks of your entire life… But that probably won’t happen again.” Namjoon mutters underneath his breath.  “Coins don’t wear shirts anyways.” Somehow, that seemed to comfort him. He writes down ‘coins can’t wear shirts’ on the chalkboard. 

“Step number FIVE!” Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of the espresso that’s been sitting on his desk for hours. “What was step number five agai- oh right. Step number five: look your best!” Namjoon catches sight of his reflection and winces. “Okay, maybe I don’t have a great example right now.” He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, almost puking when he feels the amount of grease and gunk buried in his scalp. He should probably shower. And get some sleep. His eye bags do not look very attractive right now. Maybe he should get a haircut too, it’s kinda getting wild up there. In his own defence, he’s been standing in this exact pair of sweatpants and glasses for the past couple hours, so he smells a tiny bit. Don’t girls like it when guys wear grey sweatpants? Frowning, Namjoon makes a mental note to do some research later on. 

“Shower, change, put in contacts, cologne, flowers…” Namjoon starts writing a to-do list onto his small notebook. “Would she like flowers, actually? Is it misogynistic of a guy to bring flowers or is it just a cute, nice gesture? Am I overthinking this?” His phone vibrates in the middle of his feminism breakdown, and he pats his back pockets before realising his phone was across the table. He grunts as he leans over to pick it up, and thoughtlessly, he accepts the call and brings it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Your voice is both a comfort and a shock to hear so early in the morning. He can already see you sighing aloud and scrunching up your nose cutely, a habit you picked up from him himself. He does it when he’s embarrassed, but you do it when you’re angry. It doesn’t really work because now whenever you get mad he just swoons and gushes over your cute nose and chubby cheeks. 

“aH- Um… What time is it?” Namjoon fumbles around, jumping up. 

“It’s like 7 in the morning? Hello, you promised to come workout with me today? Come open your door, I’ve been ringing your doorbell for forever, but I think it’s broken. I’ll call the repair guy for you later.” Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh, guiltily looking at his shoes even though he knows you can’t even see what he’s doing right now. 

“It’s already seven? Wow, time flies really fast. I’m- ” He yawns, bringing the phone away from his ear for a moment. “- really tired.” A beat passes by. How is it possible that he can hear you get angry at him from here?

“Namjoon.” Another awkward laugh rings through the lecture hall. 

“Ahahha. - Yes?” 

“Are you at work right now?” You ask, voice suddenly turning stone cold. 

“Um, well, that’s a debatable question. See, is it really, honestly my work if I love doing it? Sure, it makes me a living, but of course I don’t consider it to be my workplace, you know? Like, I get to come in and do what I love every single day, educating the next generation. It’s actually a really bad mindset because once you refer to your job as ‘work’ you don’t-”

“Namjoon.”

“Okay yes, I’m at work.” He relents, pushing his glasses up and sighing. 

“Joon, it’s seven! Like, seven in the morning! Have you been in there since you clocked in yesterday morning?” You ask worriedly. 

“Uhh, I think so?” To be honest, he’s been here for two nights already, crashing out on a beanbag and brushing his teeth in the staff bathroom when he needs to. 

“Namjoon!” He mumbles out an apology. “What the hell could you have been doing in there? You don’t even have that many classes this week!” Namjoon lets his eyes trail over to the chalkboard, then back down to his notebook. 

“Uh… it’s kinda complicated?”  

“Okay, okay, I’ll come home now, don’t worry!” He says, even before you can demand he take care of himself. Sometimes, you’re just a teensy bit overbearing. It’s a messed up miracle he managed to fall in love with you in the first place. 

“Be careful, okay? It’s flu season, too, so you really can’t be this reckless! You’re literally going to drive me into an early grave, for fuck’s sakes. You’re always fussing over how overworked I am, so how could you not take care of yourself? That’s so hippo- hypo- ugh, what’s the word?” 

“Hypocritical.” Namjoon says into the phone while packing up his things. 

“Hypocritical, yes. You better be here in ten minutes or less, Kim. Come home, take a shower and then sleep. I’m guessing you have done neither of those things since yesterday.” Namjoon doesn’t have the decency or humility to give you an honest answer, so he just stays silent. His eyes are still fixed on the chalkboard. Where was he at when your phone call interrupted? Ah, yes. Step number six: ‘I love you.’ Step number six was a piece of advice he had gotten from Min Yoongi, a music theory professor who taught just a couple minutes away from Namjoon’s office. He’s been dating Jung Hoseok, another mutual friend of Namjoon’s, for a few years now. 

“What do you mean?” Yoongi just blinked when Namjoon asked him, stared blankly at him, lips threatening to pull up into a smirk. 

“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean’?” Namjoon said, huffing. “How did you confess to Hobi?” 

“Bro,” Yoongi said, now freely laughing at Namjoon. “If you can’t confess to her, just wait until you get around to thinking about proposing. Never been more nervous in my life, swear to god.” Namjoon had never been a violent type. Up until he met Yoongi. 

“Just- tell me how you did it, would you?” Yoongi gave a rare, small smile and beckoned him closer. He leaned in, about to tell Namjoon a big secret. 

“Just say it.” He whispered into Namjoon’s ear. Namjoon rolled his eyes, pulled away and rested his head on the sofa. 

“That’s the most useless thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“No it’s not!” Yoongi also leaned back into his seat. “Just say it. ‘I love you.’ It’s nothing difficult. Just say it!” Namjoon scoffed and left, but Yoongi called something out while he was walking away. “Hey, you’re going to lose her if you don’t do anything.” Namjoon froze, but continued to walk. Yoongi watched, two seconds later, amused as Namjoon came rushing back in, sat himself down on the sofa and demanded Yoongi tell him everything he needed to know. 

Thus, his six steps were born. 

If Min Yoongi, a person who is possibly even more shy and even more introverted than Namjoon, (Which is a big feat) can ‘just say it’, he should be able to do it easily. Namjoon nods to himself, rolling his head back and cracking a neck bone. 

Taking a deep breath, he speaks into the phone. 

“Hey, I have something to tell you.” 

“It can wait,” You say. It’s so like you to ruin a love confession, Namjoon thinks, laughing. “Come home, go sleep for a couple hours, then we can talk. It’s not important, is it?” He stares at the chalkboard, letting out a satisfied exhale. 

“Nope.” He says. “Not that important. I’ll tell you later.” 

“Okay,” He hears you grunt from the other side of the phone, shuffling around. “Hey, I’m gonna hang up first, I’ll wait for you to get here. Where’s your spare key again?” 

“Underneath the compartment in the hanging plant. Yeah- the one above the front door.” He hears the familiar jingle of his keys and your adorable ‘a-ha!’ from the phone, and his smile stretches wider. 

“Ohh, okay, got it. Thanks! You don’t mind if I go in first, right?” 

“Nah.” 

“Okay, bye!” Before he says it back, you hang up, and he’s left with an annoying beeping sound that repeats in his ear. He misses you, Namjoon muses to himself. He hasn’t seen you for much too long. Happily, he skips to the back of the lecture hall. (which he then immediately regrets when he finds out his legs don’t work properly after staying in the exact same position for hours without end.) He doesn’t even mind that you’ll see him in this horrendous state if he gets to see you fuss over him again. Your soft side coming out is like spotting a rare bonsai tree on sale in a run-down store- extremely special and only happens once in a while. 

Okay, that analogy was really bad, he just really wanted to mention his bonsai trees.

He spares one last glance to the filled chalkboard. With good luck, nobody will walk in and see that mess all over the board. He’d probably get fired. 

“I love you.” He says to himself. Maybe Yoongi was right. It does sound pretty easy. Namjoon walks out of the lecture hall, switching off the lights and running off to see you. 

Kim Namjoon’s Six Steps Towards Confessing Your Love: Introvert Edition

Do not refer to anything academic or clever in your confession. 

Do not laugh when they ask if you are joking once you confess. 

Letter > facetime > call

Confess in public. 

Look your best!

Just say it. 

⚖  wanna talk to professor!joon? or add yourself to the taglist?

[inadaydream99]

Could I get an enemies to lovers fake dating thing with beomgyu from TXT? You don’t have to write it tho if you don’t want to 💜

Hi, thank you for this request! This is an interesting idea and I probably wouldn’t have thought of writing anything like this so I really hope you enjoy! Also, I didn’t realise how much I had written until after but I still couldn’t help adding a bonus at the end 😂

———————————————————————

Choi Beomgyu.

The very bane of your existence.

He is the sole reason you dread visiting your friends, knowing fully well that he is always tagging along with them wherever they go, or interrupting your hang out sessions together. And it annoys you to no end.

From the very second you met there was an air of tension, scours and snarky remarks thrown at each other like you had some unfinished business from a previous existence.

You’re not even sure why you hate each other, but it’s been going on for too long now to stop and question why. There’s been enough arguments and spiteful actions between you both to use as reason for your hatred now anyway.

One problem is though, the lines between love and hate are extremely close. Both emotions causing a burning within you and a fluttering sensation in your stomach whenever the other is seen vulnerable. Even the fierceness behind your glares could be mistaken for desire, a scorching passion that cannot be expressed through words alone.

And that’s exactly the situation you find yourself in now.

An unspoken match is playing out across the living room, your eyes sending pure hatred in Beomgyu’s direction as he menacingly smirks back at you, the last piece of chocolate dancing between his fingers before tauntingly being placed on his tongue.

“Oh I’m sorry (Y/N), did you want the last piece?” His voice drips in sarcasm, nimble fingers pulling the single square of chocolate out of his mouth with an irritating, drawn out sucking sound.

“You know Soobin saved that for me.” You all but growl back.

From an outsiders perspective this situation looks petty; it’s simply a piece of chocolate. So insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But to you it signifies far more than that. It’s a challenge to your patience, a teasing from Beomgyu as he takes what is yours.

“If you want it, come and get it.” His grin is tantalising and you want nothing more than to pace over to him and smack him around the face. But you don’t. You simply stand up and leave the room, keeping your composure until you safely enter Soobin’s room.

“What’s going on?” He twists in his chair to face you, an adorabley confused expression on his face. He’s the main reason you still put up with Beomgyu.

Soobin is your bestest friend, so caring and kind natured you know for sure you wouldn’t be able to survive without him in your life.

“Beomgyu.” You grimace, face scrunching up in distaste. “He ate the chocolate you left me.” You continue.

At this Soobin stands up, his body towering over yours as he gently pulls you into a warm hug. His scent alone clams you instantly, forgetting all your worries and fully indulging in the moment.

“I can go buy you some more if you want?” He questions softly. You tilt your head up so you can look at him properly, a warm smile on your face.

“It’s ok, I’m not that upset about the chocolate really, just Beomgyu.” You exhale a little more than you expect, letting out all the tension you have.

~

“Have you found a date yet for the company party next week?” Taehyun strikes up casual conversation with Beomgyu as he enters the kitchen.

“Not yet, I’m a bit stuck actually...” he sighs running a hand through his hair.

“Why don’t you ask (Y/N)? I know you want to.” Taehyun passes off the question as thought it’s nothing, Beomgyu’s eyes growing wide in shock at the youngers statement.

“Why on Earth would I ask (Y/N), she’s the last person I would ever ever ever want to date!” Beomgyu responds quickly, panic evident in his tone as he shakes his head in disagreement to emphasise his statement.

“Besides, she’s probably going with Soobin.” He mumbles the last bit to himself, posture slumping a little at the thought.

Beomgyu doesn’t realise that Taehyun takes notice of this, chuckling in amusement under his breath at how in denial his friend really is.

“Actually I already have a date.” Beomgyu’s head sharply turns to land on Soobin, his hands awkwardly in his pockets as he strides into the room further.

“You what! But what about (Y/N)?” Concern covers Beomgyu’s features before he realises, quickly falling quiet as he retracts on his exclamation.

“I was hoping you could help me out?” Beomgyu doesn’t miss the pleading look Soobin sends him, instantly feeling shy and trying to conceal the pleased smile that wants to break out on his face at knowing he is your only option if you want to go with a date.

~

You mind your own business, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. After hanging out with Soobin for a while you decided to go home, needing to have some space to think.

You are aware of Soobin taking someone else as his date to the company party next week, actually feeling delighted for him. You are quite happy to go on your own, knowing that you will be hanging out with the guys anyway. But it does make you wish you had a date to go with.

“Coming.” You shout, racing to the door after hearing someone knock. Though your face falls upon swinging it open to find Beomgyu. “Oh. What do you want?” Your tone becomes flat, arms folded across your chest and impatience growing strong.

“I heard about your lack of a date for next week, thought I’d do you a favour and say you could be mine.” He bitterly states.

You don’t offer for him to enter your apartment, but he follows when you walk away without giving him a responce.

“Oh how lucky am I! You’re so generous Beomgyu.” Your overjoyed sarcasm almost makes Beomgyu laugh, but he represses it as soon as you turn around to face him once again.

“I’d rather not thank you.” You sass, eyes burning holes into each other in a stare down.

“Look.” Beomgyu sighs. “ I don’t have anyone to go with and I know you don’t either, so why don’t we just go together. It’s not even a real date anyway, no feelings involved what so ever.” He explains, his tone completely calm and serious.

You don’t know what to retort with, mulling over his words and actually agreeing with him.

“Fine.” You sulkily mumble, rolling your eyes in agitation.

“Great. See you later cutie.” Beomgyu let’s a sweet smile form on his face, the pet name falling from his lips dauntingly slowly before winking at you and leaving.

You stand in place for a moment, taking in everything that has just happened, only breaking out of your momentary daze by the door slamming shut.

~

“How do I look?” You spin around to face Soobin, giggling when you take in his awestruck expression.

It’s the day of the company party and you had gone to the guys dorms to get ready with them. Choosing to hide out in Soobin’s room instead of using the bathroom to get ready you overtook his desk with your makeup and numerous outfit choices instantly.

“Beomgyu is one lucky guy.” Soobin let’s his thoughts slip, mouth slightly agape. It’s the very same expression he pulls when you go to the bakery together and he gazes at all the cakes and pastries on display.

Since the day Beomgyu ever so kindly told you to be his date you hadn’t really encountered him. The only time you had partaken in conversation together being when Yeonjun payed you a visit to pick up his hat that he’d left around yours previously. Beomgyu tagged along and you found yourself awkwardly trying to fill the silence while Yeonjun went about finding his possession.

“That’s not even funny.” You deadpan, your heart sinking a little at the thought of an awkward night with Beomgyu. You weren’t entirely sure how he was planning to act around you. Was he gonna pester you all night in an attempt to make your evening unenjoyable, or was he planning on trying to get on for the sake of his image in front of everyone?

“Are you guys ready to go?” Speak of the devil and he appears. Beomgyu’s head peaks around the door frame, his eyes instantly connecting with yours.

“Woah, you tidy up better than I expected you to.” Beomgyu smirks at you devilishly, his voice laced with sarcasm. So he’s continuing as normal then.

You catch Soobin sighing and gently shaking his head dissapointedly from the corner of your eye. You want nothing more than to tear Beomgyu limb from limb in this moment, his sarcastic retort to your appearance making your blood boil. But you hold it together and plaster a smile on your face.

“We’re ready.” You respond, holding your head high as you grab your bag and follow the guys out of the dorms.

~

“This is insane.” You smile fondly as you hear HueningKai utter in amazement.

The party really is incredible, above and beyond what you expected it to be and it seems everyone is in agreement.

Your moment in awe suddenly comes crashing down when you feel a hand slip into yours, fingers interlacing with one another instinctively. You turn to find Beomgyu stood next to you, already looking at you expectantly. It’s as if he thought you would have some resistance to holding his hand and he is waiting for you to make a comment. But you don’t want to give him what he wants, so you simply send him a smile and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary is happening between you, despite the tingling sensation that runs up your arm, skin set on fire just from the simple action.

“Come on cutie, I haven’t got all day. Let’s go find the others.” Sarcastic as ever Beomgyu teasingly repeats the pet name from the other day, watching with a satisfied smile as you cringe. You hadn’t realised the others had all walked off with their dates, too caught up in a daze.

Jolted slightly from Beomgyu, you stumble after him a little clumsily. You know it was intentional on his part, the sly smile on his face confirming your suspicion when he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Whoops.” He comments cheekily, your scour towards him only filling him with more joy.

~

“I think I’m gonna head home...” you mumble, tears pricking your eyes as you desperately try to refrain from crying in front of everyone.

“What... why?” Soobin raises his head in shock as he sympathetically looks at your defeated expression.

You feel pathetic for your reasons why, but you can’t stand another agonising minute of dealing with Beomgyu. All night he had made sure to be by your side so he could annoy you to no end. It was his entertainment for the evening which was enhanced when you argued back.

“I’ve just had enough, I never should have agreed to be Beomgyu’s date...” your voice becomes wobbly and you watch with slight caution as Soobin’s face hardens in anger.

You always feel a little frightened when Soobin gets angry because it rarely happens. You watch wordlessly as he excuses himself and marches over to Beomgyu. From a distance it looks like they are bickering, Soobin scolding the younger before making his way back over to where you are stood with his date.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” He calms down as soon as his eyes land on you. You nod in response before Soobin informs his date that he is going to drop you back home and leads you out of the party.

Beomgyu watches from afar. He would never admit this out loud but he does feel kind of bad for pestering you all evening. But it’s what happens when he is around you, he gets scared of the feelings that arise and is horrible to you as a defence mechanism.

“Go and confess how you feel already.” He jumps slightly at not realising Taehyun and Yeonjun are beside him. And he knows that they are right, it’s time to face his feelings head on.

~

“Soobin I said I am fine-” you fall speechless mid sentence after answering your door to who you assume is Soobin, but find Beomgyu instead.

It’s not been long since you got home. Soobin was reluctant to leave you on your own but you insisted that he got back to his date. After all, just because your evening was ruined doesn’t mean his should be too.

“Can we talk?” He looks timid. It’s actually the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

Debating briefly whether you should let him in or not you huff a little before opening the door wider to signify your agreement.

“I have a few things I need to get off my chest, so I’m just gonna say them all at once and then whatever happens after is completely up to you.” He speaks reluctantly, his whole aura reminding you of a defensive child.

“Ok, go ahead.” You nod, watching him warily.

“First of all, I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. Not just for today, but from the very moment we met...” Beomgyu sincerely apologies, pausing momentarily to look at you.

“I’m not actually a horrible person, I just get scared of how I feel whenever you are around. It’s like you light up the whole room with just your smile and the feelings that overcome me are frightening... feelings I never knew someone could make me feel until I met you.” The room falls deathly silent as Beomgyu finishes his confession, air thick with nervousness.

This was the last thing you ever expected to happen. Not once did you think Beomgyu could ever feel that way towards you, and yet he does.

He sits with an awaiting expression, eyes wide and hands nervously fidgeting together as he is left in the dark as to how you feel.

“So you’re telling me that the reason you go out of your way to annoy me is because you have feelings for me?” You question, still not quite believing the situation you find yourself in. “Right.” You mutter to yourself when Beomgyu nods his head.

“I get if I’ve ruined any chance with you, but just know that from now on I have no intention to continue as we were before.” He practically pleads at you, reaching over to take your hand in his. You observe how delicately he holds it, so much affection shown just through that small action.

The tingling sensation from earlier runs through your arm again, a flustered feeling washing over you just the same as when he first held your hand at the party.

“You know I’ve always had a thing for bad boys.” You smirk, looking up at Beomgyu through your lashes. The smile that appears on his face tells you he understands what you mean and you can’t help but giggle when he scoots himself closer to you.

“And I’ve always had a thing for you.” He whispers dangerously close to your ear, goosebumps arising on your skin in the wake of his hot breath.

~ Bonus ~

“I liked it far more when you hated each other.” Taehyun complains, eyeing you in disgust as Beomgyu shamelessly presses kisses down your neck.

“Well that’s too bad.” Beomgyu sasses back, sending a warning glare over to the younger before resuming his affection.

“I need to go, I promised Soobin I’d go to the bakery with him... but I’ll see you later?” You move out of Beomgyu’s hold, his hands still clinging onto yours as he looks up at you with puppy eyes.

“I love you idiot.” You giggle when he refuses to let you go, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you more cutie.” He responds, a cheeky grin on his face as he watches you leave.

“Soobin let’s go!” He chuckles when he hears you shout to Soobin. You really have captured Beomgyu’s heart, but he’s not scared anymore.

[firedawnd]

Love For Them (AKA, a study of Ace!Katherine)

Katherine Howard does not know love: not at first.

Not until he came. Not until he, broad-shouldered, bearded, creased face, the spitting image of alluring maturity entered her life.

Wordcount: 7366. 

Series Link: Don’t.

AO3 Link: Love For Them.

(Yes, it’s finally here!!)

Heavy trigger warnings for r*pe, corrective r*pe, gaslighting, acephobia (external & internalised), grooming, internalised self-blame. No heavily explicit r*pe is shown but it is alluded to, implied, and in imagery.

Katherine Howard does not know love: not at first.

Not until he came. Not until he, broad-shouldered, bearded, creased face, the spitting image of alluring maturity entered her life. 

Some have gushed about Mannox’s allure. He was… broad and dark. Desirable was the words which she had overheard some of their maids say. 

And he wants her.

(Who was she to refuse?) 

And so Katherine stares. Up at her music teacher. Of a gigantic stature; so much taller, stronger, wider than her was he. And that’s part of the allure, she’s sure, but she’s also sure that he can crush her in her fingers, leave her in only little pieces, mingling between ashes and dust amid piano keys. 

He looks back at her. You can stop, Katherine. I see how you stare at me. 

She flushes, then. She gazes up at him. Tall and glowering and imposing. A knowing smirk presses by his lips. 

How… do I stare? 

His eyes turn dark then. Don’t pretend you don’t know. 

And she doesn’t know, she doesn’t, not really. All she knows is what the maids relay to her through bated whispers. He is captivating. Have you seen him? Dark. Mysterious. How breathtaking. I want him to make me his. 

Mannox reaches for her hair. He combs his fingers through the ends. She lets him. 

I’ll show you how you’re supposed to feel. 

And she loves him. How could she not? He is… striking. That is what they say about him. He is… brooding. He is handsome. Desirable. 

He fondles— he’s fond of her. And of course, she was never a fan of the sensation, but that was normal. Nobody liked it; not at first. You were to get used to it. 

And Katherine is patient. She can wait. 

.

Dereham is the next person they speak about. 

How charming is he! So enchanting… so handsome… and so intelligent. Always so astute, so cultured and scholarly: one would think him a nobleman. I hear he is well-endowed… and oh, his virility… 

Katherine knows of Dereham’s virility well. He enters the girls’ bedchambers at night. He and the other men. Their eyes prowl, like they are pickings at a market. 

(Katherine always curls up in her bed, underneath the sheets, as if she isn’t there. She is not asleep. She knows better than to pretend to be asleep. But she curls herself up, as if, with enough time, they would not see her there anymore.)

And she catches his eye because she is independent.

That is what he says she is. That first night: when his footfalls pause by the end of her bed, and Katherine had refused to meet his eyes. She did not manage to curl within the safety of her bedsheets in time, and so she had stayed, there: eyes cast to the side, averting away from the bodies that mangle the beds and the screeches that interpolate the air. 

Look at me.

She looks. 

You don’t want me?

And she gazes.

He is tall. He has a strong jaw. A muscular chest. A symmetrical face. A powerful gait. Sculpted, is how they would describe him.

(So enchanting… so handsome… so intelligent. And he wants you . Do you really not want him ? Would you really refuse Dereham? Dereham?)

A breath catches in her throat . Because—who is she to say no? 

But Dereham shakes his head before she can speak. He lets out a laugh. A husky laugh. One that speaks to pride and promises once he reaches out to her face. Tilts her chin down with his thumb and makes her meet his face. She lets him. 

I’ll prove myself worthy of you.

He gives her 100 pounds. It is yours if I do not return from my voyage. And he leaves her with the sum of his fortune, and Katherine’s stomach is sick with responsibility, for she is merely fourteen, and she had not known him until months prior. What makes him trust her so?

He loves you so. 

He reprieves himself from sexual duty. I will be celibate for you, my love. My eyes belong to you. And he presses a kiss to her knuckles, and the roughness of his lips do not leave her skin until days after. 

The other girls jostle her. Stare at her. Scowl at her. Jealousy mingling in their eyes. Desire rupturing through their words. 

You didn’t have to take Dereham away from us! Not the most… well-endowed man of the home. And they share giggles, and they nudge one another, and they laugh, and Katherine listens to their glee. 

Do not tell me that you do not want him. Do not. 

Katherine, you might as well let him have you. Maybe then he’ll have us too. 

Is it not obvious that he wants you, Katherine? And he is trying so hard for your love, too—he wants you! Don’t be a tease. Give him what he desires. 

And he returns from his voyage. She is there, at her bed. He approaches her. She does not meet his eyes. But the indignance is too present in his voice already. 

Do you not love me still? I have done everything for you. Do you still seek to keep your independent pretence, Katherine? Or will you allow me to love you? 

Her throat is sticky and sore. And she looks up to Francis Dereham. 

He is even more masculine, upon his return. Muscles jut from his arms. As if he had been at work. Exuding an odour which is reminiscent of the sea. So much more sculpted. 

Katherine, don’t tell us that you don’t love him. He is so handsome… have you seen his body ? And not to mention his charm! If you reject him… I am sorry, but your taste must be atrocious.

There is a plea in Katherine’s eyes. She flicks her gaze away from him. But it does not stop her from seeing a smirk writhe its way across Dereham’s lips.

He grabs her by the chin. Roughly, now. 

Of course you love me.

Dereham reaches for her lips. He kisses her. His fingers tousle her hair. He combs his fingers through the ends. She lets him. 

(Katherine had never wished for anything more different, then.)

.

“You desire him, do you not?”

Katherine flushes once again. She carefully turns her eyes away from Joan’s eyes. “He is… enthralling, of course.”

And she’s under Joan’s scrutiny. Katherine presses her fingers into her dress and tries not to squirm. Because she could see, couldn’t she? That Katherine saw him as majestic, as intense, as impressive, yet not… 

“You want him, do you not?”

She nods. Vigorously. Twice—thrice—that should be enough to emphasise. 

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, of course I do!”

For who was she? Some fool? Who cannot love Mannox? Who cannot love Dereham? Who cannot admire their... sculpted beauty? Who cannot love their bodies?

(She kisses Dereham more vigorously, that night. He does all he wishes to her and she lets him. She screws her eyes shut and forces herself to relax. For she loves him. For she desires him. She is not a monster. Who can love and cannot desire at the same time?) 

.

And then she is raised up-high into the Royal Court. She is the Queen's lady-in-waiting. Anna’s lady-in-waiting. A marriage arranged by the ever-intelligent Cromwell. The German Queen, about to be wed to England’s most… fitting suitor. 

They meet in the golden hours of the morning, at first. Katherine courtesies, but Anna waves her off: That is not necessary. And she is bewildered, at first, but soon her lips morph into a slight, not quite, smile. 

Oh, she enjoys it so. She has a purpose, a reason, here. She is to serve the Queen. And Anna talks to Katherine, and she does her best to fulfill her wishes. 

(At first, at least. Before their conversations had evolved elsewhere; beginning when Katherine had accidentally intruded upon Anna’s chambers and found her with tears glimmering by her eyes, gazing out into the muted England beneath her window. And she should have apologised profusely, and retreated, but words, unbidden, had slipped from her lips: my Queen, if I may ought to know… what is troubling you? )

(And Anna talks to her about home, about missing it all, about how much she despises Henry, how she wishes she weren’t here. Katherine’s heart wrenches, because even if she had never come from a foreign country to marry some man. She understands. Compromise. She understands. Obligation. She understands. Desire.)

They’d spend hours away in aimless chatter, since then. And every time she is not with Anna, Katherine finds an aching void in her heart, waiting, wanting to be reunited with her friend’s company. 

Of course, she has the other ladies-in-waiting. They are amiable. Their company is amicable. As it should be, really. But Katherine cannot help but feel disassociated, from the conversation they make. 

“... was none a man so stark and strong, of strength that ever came near! None a man so fair under God. He, the most bold, the most knightly, with the appetite, I hearsay, of a voracious beast…” 

And she sees that, yes, he was a knight, he was strong, and yet…. 

Voracious? Beast? 

“Katherine? What about you? What do you think of Thomas Culpepper?”

Her eyes snap up.

“I don’t know,” she replies, half a struggling smile parting her lips. “He is a… fair man.”

And she means it, in that sense. He is fair, of a fair proportion, a healthy man of his stature, and tall, too—that would be appealing. His facial features are even, smooth, and defined.  Broad shoulders. Decently muscular. Tall. That perfect image of nobility. A peer. 

He sets my loins on fire, one of the ladies-in-waiting says. And Katherine’s brow furrows. Of course, he was fair. And yet… loins…? 

Katherine brushes the thought off with a chuckle. “Seems we may have to try and bring Lady Margaret and Lord Culpepper together, then.” 

But by the end of the day, when it is merely her, and Anna, alone. They are quiet together. And Katherine always feels better, when they are together. When they talk, together. And perhaps their company is aimless, but Katherine is content, and so is Anna. 

And one day when they are alone and together at night at the palace. Katherine tilts her head at Anna. Teach me how to dance, she whispers to her. My teachers had always found me unteachable. They said, and it was with a giggle that she kept within the confines of her throat, that I was unruly. Unfocused. Diffuse. 

You would not learn much from me, then, Anna says, her lips curled in jest. 

She feels something play by her mouth. She meets Anna’s eyes again, tilts her head. I would pay attention to the Queen.

Anna laughs. Take my hand, then. 

They dance. And it is so quiet, then. Katherine isn’t sure what she was expecting. But Anna’s hand is soft, and her arms on Katherine’s shoulders are not invasive. What they do, is just that, as Katherine’s asked: they dance. 

And sometimes, when it is only just them there in Court, Anna asks for Katherine’s hand. And Katherine fancies herself in a ballroom dance; in Hampton Court, maybe, or Richmond, during festivities: on St. Valentine’s day, perhaps. 

It is there where they dance. In the centre of the room, next to nobilities and courtiers, yet they are too far away to touch. Where music ebbs by and invigorates the air in currents and flows. 

They sway, to nothing at all. 

(And sometimes, when Katherine gazes into Anna’s passionate eyes, her unrepentant fervour, her vigour and her smile , her heart flutters, ever so slightly.) 

Yet it is so transient, like a flickering firefly to the ever-tenebrous night. 

(And when she is raised Queen. It is as if that feeling were never there at all.)

.

And she is raised Queen, and she stands, in the hallways, next to Anna. Katherine is not Queen, not yet: it is not her coronation, yet, not yet in July. Yet Anna is no longer Queen, annulled, was what she had overheard from the courtiers. 

It has been a while since they had spoken. 

“You don’t need to marry him,” Katherine says to Anna, finally. A sad smile lifts her lips.

Anna’s jaw is set. There is a storm of emotion, Katherine knows, that is concentrated on her face. But it is kept under trellises and stone. 

“Not at your expense.”

“I know,” Katherine says, quietly. She looks away from her eyes. “But I am truly happy for you. Anna.”

Anna shakes her head. It is like there is something she is about to say. But she leaves it. And Katherine meets, reads, her eyes.

I am not. Not for you.

And she does not understand why her heart aches so, not really. When, later, she turns her gaze away from Anna to Henry. She only understands that she aches.

(That word, Katherine would later come to understand, is saudade. Where the pit in her stomach. Tells her of what meets her in the future. Where her glimmering eyes. Brim, involuntarily, for they would not see each other again. Not truly.)

(Where she longs. For a time when Katherine were simply a lady-in-waiting, and Anna simply the Queen. For their conversations, for their dances, for their entwined hands, for their boundless laughter. For her firefly heart.)

(Katherine knows she cannot long. Not for long. And yet.)  

.

Henry is repulsive.

And that is a shared sentiment. Anna shares it, with a scowl, contemptuous, from the day she had landed on England and beyond. Katherine’s own ladies-in-waiting share it, with a flitting laugh. She takes comfort in it. Good, she thinks, relief in her mind. I’m not… I’m not wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me. 

But as her ladies-in-waiting make idle talk about Henry’s less-than-desirable state, they also make talk, other talk : Have you seen that courtier today? God above, he is gorgeous. Dudley, was that his name? He stirs in me a hot flame under my skin. What is with the nobility? What they can render me… 

She is not even safe from that talk in the Royal Court. For, despite how much they are the King’s royal servants, appointed to serve, she still hears the courtiers speak. 

…. who else finds your fancy, my lords? 

I say she. How dainty, how delicate is she? Truly a fine, full, comely creature. So sensual in her beauty. So nubile in her fertility. How much I desire her… 

They continue. And although they are not speaking of her. Katherine cannot help but feel isolated from them all. 

Loneliness encroaches her. It delves down her skin, swathes across her limbs, until she is huddling and shivering and so cold. Loneliness makes her enclose herself, as their obstreperous conversations seep in her ears and she suppresses her repine. Loneliness is nighttime, when her ladies-in-waiting have dispelled and it is only she and him trapped in darkness.

And he parts her legs every night and she struggles and gasps and she quells herself.

No. She is supposed to enjoy this. 

And she squashes the anxiety percolating through her skin. Even as he makes her lay on the bed and he crawls above her. A beast imposing. Panting. Wanting.

She looks away. She pretends that the windows are windows and not trellises that grip stone like she is in the Tower itself. She forces her eyes to the moonlit night and thinks of her virginity, thinks of her duty. 

Henry reaches for her cheeks. He smashes her mouth against his. His breath is hot and his odour is heavy. His fingers wrangle through her hair, desperate, seeking, he wants her, he wants her, he wants everything of her. 

And she is an orb, crushed between the weight of his grasp.

She lets him do it. She lets him touch her. And she lets him and she shudders with breaths that he thinks is pleasure. She lets him assume.

(And it is better, when dawn murks through the whole of England, and he gets off her, brushes himself off, makes his way towards his kingly duties. But gloom settles all the same, when it is night. And Katherine bites down a wince every single time his eyes go feverish with desire.) 

.

It is then when she meets Thomas Culpepper. 

She does not know what to think when she first sees him. For he was all-too reminiscent of those courtiers, the ones that would leer at ladies when they pass by. 

But he is not. 

He is kind, and he is all she needs, really. A confidant, a friend. And her heart is elated, for he does not comment upon any lady’s looks, nor does he ask her whether any man catches her eyes. 

He guides the conversation. Of court affairs, of England and the world, of nature and birds. Sometimes, it enters into more personal areas: of her home life, of her time with Anna, of life with the King. But she is comfortable. 

(And there is something that stays in her stomach. A certain gratitude. For she does not need to fear, when she is with Culpepper. She is no longer isolated, when she is with him. He is her companion. Her friend.)

(And some days, she allows herself to think that, perhaps, he is like her. He is disinterested in… the carnal calls of flesh, too. And Katherine knows that there is still something wrong in her, for she is supposed to love , she can’t not , but then, at least, she is not the only one.) 

Until his hands snake across her waist and she feels the unbidden press of his cold fingers upon her skin. Until she had looked up at him, a question in her eyes. And panic resounds her insides. 

Never have I seen a sultrier woman than you, Katherine Howard… 

(And if she’s being honest to herself… it isn’t the first time. His fingers had always lingered a moment too long, on her hands, as he’d helped her off her horse. And his hands had caressed her cheeks, had slunk down her neck, despite how she shrugs away from her touch.) 

His hands, like spiders creeping upon their prey, a foreboding madness latent in his grasp. Slinging his arm over her shoulders. Upon her back. Upon her stomach. On her ass. 

But she wanted to pretend. She wanted a friend. Why couldn’t she— why couldn’t he—why couldn’t any of them—

And he’s boring into her, his eyes, and they are sharp-cold-curious, anger quivers in his blood-red mouth, and—

Do you not want me?

Katherine looks into his eyes. Into his glinting eyes and his fair face and his heaving chest and his chivalric pretence. 

She shakes her head. The no is muted under her breath. Fractured by her heartbreak. 

I thought—I thought you were just—I thought you didn’t want —

Katherine, he scowls. Exasperation on his lips. This is ridiculous. Do you not know love? Do you not know want, do you not know desire? Such a fair creature like you cannot not want.

She freezes. 

(Does she not know love? She is supposed to. That is the ultimate union: of man and woman, tangled in love, tangled in flesh. That is God’s gift: love in sensuality, love in physicality, love in creation, the fostering of a child of perfect likeness.) 

(She… can’t not love. That is… unholy. She should have at least reciprocated Mannox’s affections of her bodily frame. She’s supposed to relish in Dereham’s body, after he had loved her so. She’s ordained to love Henry, by God, for she’s the Queen, that is what she is supposed to be. Yet she can barely contain a scream when he is with her at night. She’s supposed to love Culpepper. The courtier admired by all the ladies-in-waiting, the courtier so handsome that it would be incomprehensible to reject him. That’s what she’s supposed to feel, especially after all that time of companionship, of courting, is that not?) 

(But she doesn’t, and it is sinful, it is. Who has heard of a wife that physically cannot bring herself to love her husband? And not just that—but unable to take pleasures in the joys of flesh, unable to reconcile with the sight of unclad bodies? Disinterested in skin, in sensuality, in intimate connection?)

(There’s something gravely wrong with her. Something so fundamentally broken in her. And she is immoral for her relationships, she is false for her pretending, she is reprehensible. Was this punishment? Why can’t she feel?)

Her breaths go erratic. She hopes Culpepper does not see her freeze. 

Culpepper’s eyes narrow. And his voice is low, she is uncomfortable, but she fixes her eyes ahead, still, forces herself to still.

Katherine. You are not frigid, are you? Do you not want anyone?

She swallows. His eyes go dark. 

No matter. I'll make you love me. 

I will redeem you. 

I will save you. 

(I’ll fix you.)

Culpepper reaches for her body. He rakes his fingers down her back. He grabs her hair and pulls so hard it sears her scalp. He roams over her chest thigh hips —

She sobs. She hurts. 

She hates him. 

She lets him. 

.

And Henry discovers then, and she is dead, of course, and yet an irrevocable laugh sears her throat. And it is almost a choke, for, oh. 

If it is not doing what she loves best.  

.

Anna brings her to the others, after she returns to life again. 

(They separate, after their hug. And Katherine keeps to herself, for her skin still feels tender, so delicate, so much like a newborn’s and she clutches to it, for she does not quite believe that she is here. Hisses from ghosts linger amid her breaths, and electric static runs through her heart.)

Perhaps that is why her first meeting with the Queens does not turn out to be the… best. 

“Welcome!”

It’s like a dozen voices chorus at once, and Katherine cringes, because the noise, the chaos, the flurry is almost overwhelming. And then there is chatter, and then there are faces, then there are hands on her… 

She flinches. His fingers drag through her hair. His words lurk by her ear. I love you, don’t you love me, don’t you like my touch, touch, touch… 

“Don’t touch me.” Katherine snaps.

They all jolt away, immediately, at once. And the sensation disappears, just as fast as they come. She quells the tremble in her hands. Knots her knuckles into her dress and forces them to stop. 

Katherine lets out a breath. Maybe someone says something: through the groggy murk that is by her ears, somebody probably does. But she steels her breaths. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, a bare whisper in her throat. 

“Don’t apologise,” says a voice. Katherine lifts her head to meet Anna’s eyes. They’re glinting. “I am glad we have you back, Katherine.”

She stifles the sob. She lets a soft smile rest by her lips. She looks around, and sees the rest, looking back at her. Some faces are kind; some are with concern; some are with half, not quite, smiles. All without judgement. 

She says, “I’m glad to be here, too.”

.

The adjustment, at first, is not… easy.

Especially not when she is living with five other Queens, the only thing in common is their mutual ex-husband, and too much unresolved tension, unresolved drama to behold.

Katherine would not have minded. Not before. She was, after all, in a factious Court, one which its favour swayed between the Howards and their enemies. 

But this was a different sort of drama. This was Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon at one another’s throats; and when it was not that then it would be Boleyn against Parr, over Elizabeth; this was Jane Seymour attempting to quell the nonsense which did not help matters anyhow. 

Perhaps she should have stayed at Anna’s home. At least she would be able to have some sort of peace and quiet, then. 

But what the other Queens do have is boundaries. What they have is respect. For they have endured the same man together in their old lives. 

(She doesn’t let any of them touch her. Not so soon; not yet. Her skin is tender, and her wounds sink deep. Listless dreams made of men pervade her head. No: she does not need touch, now.)

They respect her. They don’t ask.

And that is all she can ask for. She is glad. 

(And Katherine later learns that what they have is mutability, too. Arguments resolve; apologies are made; pasts are put in the past. And while resentments remain, they dissipate, with compromise, with understanding. And that, perhaps, is as good as they can achieve.)

.

Slowly. Katherine gets better. 

It is not long, then, after. After she’d broken down about her past. That their guards crash into sand. That pity suffuses their eyes. She knows she cannot get away from it. And Katherine resents it, really. But there is another emotion, too, that twines in her stomach, for being…. cared about. 

They teach her. And Katherine learns. Of her past. Of her life.

(And one day, when she feels ready enough, her fingers stray to the handle of the opaque bookshelf. Katherine grips the book of survivors that Jane had brought her. She inhales a quiet breath, and begins to read.)

She does not tell them everything. She cannot. But they see the shame that flushes her face. They see the pain that wrenches her eyes. They see her huddle in on herself, they see her tuck her head between her legs, they see her quench her quiet sobs. 

Those men were wrong. They took advantage of her. They molded her, shaped her, groomed her. They gaslit her. And, of course, she would not desire them. She was a mere child back then. That is what the other Queens comfort her with.

No , she says, shakes her head. You don’t understand. I… I know it’s wrong, but they… weren’t entirely wrong. Culpepper was… trying to help. And Katherine averts their aghast eyes, extricates the next words from her throat. 

It is not just… that. I’m wrong. 

Disbelief echoes in Parr’s eyes. Confusion’s in Aragon’s. Pain’s in Jane’s. Anger’s in Anne’s. 

Why? 

Yet every time she tries to speak, she cannot convey what she means. And so Katherine shrugs, lets out a small sigh, and smiles. Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve mentioned it. Just pretend I didn’t say anything. Never mind. 

And she leaves, despite the calls in protest behind.

(She goes to her room, those times, then. Shuts the door. Curls in on herself. And prevents all thought from conspiring in her mind.)

.

But after those times. There is always Anna, who checks upon her. Who knocks on her door. Who asks if there is anything Katherine wants. Who takes her leave, if Katherine does not speak. 

(And there is no question, no judgement, no anything in her eyes. Those days when Katherine opens her door for Anna. Anna simply lets Katherine talk, and their chatter is idle, as aimless as before. But it is like before, and that is a safety blanket that environs her, a feeling that she had not known she needed, not until they were reborn and present and here. )

And sometimes, if Katherine was brave enough, she would tilt her head, look up to Anna’s eyes, exhale a breath. Anna. Would you like to dance?

(And there is a certain feeling that stirs in her gut, when she takes Anna’s hand, when they take their positions in Katherine’s bedroom, when she closes her eyes and finds herself in an empty ballroom.)

(Fireflies. She thinks. It has been a while.)

.

They’re in a circle, playing a game. Katherine isn’t sure what’s brought this on, exactly, but her overenthusiastic cousin had dragged them all into a so-called Game Night and so. Here they are. 

“… yes, that’s my choice on who to bed, shut up, Anne. That leaves me to marry Beckham. And I think beheading Henry is a no brainer.”

Anne’s eyes, tinged with mischievousness, light up at the last one. “I like your taste!” she exclaims. “Is that some revenge for me?”

Parr rolls her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Anne. Of course it is.”

Aragon scoffs at the sight, though her amusement’s evident in her eyes. Jane doesn’t even try to hide her amusement. Katherine watches Anne nuzzle into Parr’s shoulder. And, unbidden, a slight smile twinges her lips, too.

Anne must catch her stare because she extricates herself from Parr, and Katherine raises an eyebrow at the cunning smile wreathed upon her cousin’s face.

“It’s your turn, Katherine! Wed, bed, behead.”

From beside Katherine, Anna rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you just say fuck, marry, kill, like everyone else?”

“Shut up, Anna! It’s funnier this way.”

Anne rats off a few names. Their faces float somewhere in the back of Katherine’s mind. And she feels unease creep up her neck. She hasn’t really thought about what this game entails, until, well… 

“... so, what do you think? What’s your verdict? And c’mon, Kat, don’t tell me that you don’t know. You’ve got to have a preference!”

Their faces are distinct, but distilled. And Katherine tries to make them clearer, for clarity in her mind. But even as she does, and even as the other Queens clamour, they’re the one with the abs to die for, he’s the one that’s a straight-up hunk, she’s the one that’s so freaking hot… 

Katherine stares. 

“I…”

Their words do not help her decide. And she knows there is a correct answer, knows there is a consensus that everybody agrees upon. Yet finding that out is another guessing-game in itself, like attempting to pry a sight from a stone vice. 

“Oh, come on, he’s so sexy. Total smash?”

“She’s so hot? Like… so fit? Don’t tell me you don’t see that, Katherine!”

“Oh, come on! You can’t kill him! ”

“I—I don’t know,” she says, flushes. Panic spikes in her stomach, and she wants to leave, yet she feels so trapped, here. Because it’s like she’s back in Court again—amid the ladies-in-waiting, amid the courtiers and the noblemen, listening but not there, feeling a little colder the more the words exited their lips, a basilisk curling in her stomach… 

Not because she truly doesn’t know. She knows, she does. There are men who are the definition of a knight, and women a definition of a fair maiden. There are people that are sculpted like Greek gods. There are people that she could watch, entranced, in minutes: for they were like nature embodied. 

But she doesn’t know by their measure. 

(Her measure is this, which she had used back in Court, whenever she had to participate in such discourse. Facial evenness. Body shape. Whether they wore short cloth or studded tunics. Yet, and this is when Katherine realises, yet they mean as much to her as a grain of salt does.)

They’re staring at her expectantly. She knows she’s supposed to say something. And it’s easy, really; her words slipped from her like water in the Royal Court. He is ravishing; so fanciable; irresistible, bedabble. She was so good at it, they branded her a vixen, a whore, a sex-addict for it. 

But her throat’s dry and she realises she cannot speak. She does not want to say the same. Not to them. 

(Not for them to see how wrong, how abnormal, how broken she is. Not for them to know that they aren’t guilty, not as much as they paint Mannox or Dereham or Henry or Culpepper out to be, because fuck, she detests what they’ve done to her, what they’ve done torments her at night, but they were doing it for her. )

“I don’t know,” Katherine finally says, letting out a small, quiet breath. “I—I’m gonna go.”

She gets up and leaves, despite their protests. She crosses her arms. Her stomach knots, as she advances up the stairs. She huddles in on herself, once she arrives at her bed. She closes her eyes, and lets out a long, shuddery breath. 

.

Her room is colder than before. And she should stay there, really, until she drifts off into bed, until the nightmares tap her windows and trespasses into her mind’s eye. 

But Anna doesn’t let her. 

There’s a knock, two, three, at her door. Katherine? And Anna enters, before Katherine can respond because she’s so exhausted. 

And before she can stop herself, a sardonic retort pulls from her lips, powdered with a smile. “Barging in on rooms today, are we, Anna?”

“Only checking up on my favourite Queen of England,” replies Anna, and a light laugh shakes Katherine’s chest; at least she doesn’t take it as a jab. 

“But if you really want me to go. I’m sorry. I can leave—”

“No, don’t.” And there’s an unspoken please that stays between her words. 

Anna stays. Katherine looks to her side; to the walls, to anything but Anna’s eyes. 

“Do you want to talk about anything?” Anna asks. “I’m… sorry, if that game triggered anything.”

“It didn’t.” Katherine says. 

There’s a moment of silence that diffuses between them. And the awkwardness is nigh-high in the air, oh so uncomfortable, almost as if she was back to where they began: Katherine, a lady-in-waiting at Court, fretfully counting down the minutes until the Queen’s arrival. 

“What’s this about, then?”

Katherine lets out a low laugh. “Nothing. I just… needed a moment, is all. Think I had too much to drink.”

Anna’s belief, or lack thereof, is even starker after Katherine utters her words. And something curls in her chest, because she at least could’ve found a better excuse, or she could’ve said it earlier. Because now Anna’s waiting for her to say something, especially after Katherine’s told her to stay, and… 

“... I don’t know,” Katherine says, sighs, tries to put a smile on her lips. “Look, Anna… I really appreciate you being here. Truly. But…” and her words falter.

Another pause. 

“Katherine… you know you can talk to me about anything.” 

No. No, I can’t. And yet even as those words echo in her mind, she knows it isn’t really true. She has spoken to Anna about everything; back in the Court, and now. So instead, she settles with: 

“You wouldn’t want to know.”

“Give me your worst.”

Katherine feels something struggle by the ends of her lips. “Do you really want to know?”

Anna gives one nod. 

Katherine exhales. She turns her head away, and a burn creeps onto her face, and she closes her eyes because she can’t meet Anna’s face. 

“Fine. They raped me. And it was my fault.”

Nothing, for a moment. And then another. Katherine swallows and opens her eyes. 

Anna’s eyes are wide. She stands, in stunned silence, for a moment, until her eyes narrow, until she shakes her head vigorously. “Katherine! It’s not your fault. I cannot conceive how it can be your fault, Katherine. They forced themselves on you!”

Guilt sloshes in her stomach. Katherine lets out a breath. Forces her words out of her throat. “No… no, it’s not just that. I didn’t tell you everything. He… he wanted to fix me.”

“What?”

She huddles in on herself. “I said what I said. I let them.”

Another moment. And another. And another. And Katherine doesn’t know what Anna’s thinking, and she doesn’t know, doesn’t know if she wants to know that it’s revulsion or confusion that colours her face, doesn’t want to know if judgement or aghastness that lines her eyes . But Katherine can’t bear the silence. 

Please say something. 

She takes another look at Anna. And something inexplicable reigns on Anna’s face. And then, the last thing Katherine expects tumbles out of Anna’s mouth. 

“Katherine... what do you think of men?”

“What do you mean?” She scoffs, quietly, as if to hide the recoil in her chest. “I think you know what level of esteem I hold men in.”

Anna shakes her head. “No, I don’t mean that. I mean… how would you describe them? Physically?”

… what?

“Bodies. Flesh. Faces,” she says, without really thinking, and heat tinges her cheeks, because what is she supposed to say?  

“... of course, their faces can be pleasing to see, but that is… merely that.”

Anna stares at her. “Is that really how you see men?”

“Am I wrong?”

That coaxes a chuckle out of Anna. “No, not wrong. What about women, then?”

Katherine stays there, bewildered, for a moment. Till finally, she finds the words on her lips. 

“They are… bodies, of course. Flesh and faces. And their faces are certainly beautiful, of course. Like marble stone. It is not… I’m not… men and women are both beautiful. Like sunsets, or paintings, or well-crafted statues.”

“... Aesthetically so?”

Katherine nods. And even as she does she feels a sinking feeling in her chest. Because now Anna’s going to understand, now Anna’s going to know, and yet she cannot stop the words from forming on her lips.  

“Yes, I suppose that’s it. They are aesthetically beautiful.” 

There is a moment of quiet between them. 

“Katherine…” and Anna gnaws her lips, “… do you feel sexual attraction?”

And there.

“W-what?” she says, and it escapes her throat, almost a laugh—yet the sound is more strangled than that. 

“Like… how do I put this.” Anna exhales. “Do you see someone, and do you desire them?”

“I—I think they’re beautiful, of course.”

“But do you want them?” 

She’s about to say of course when she stills. No, no. 

She cannot lie. 

For this is Anna. 

(And, involuntarily, she thinks of when she was a child. She thinks of men and courtiers, of women and their laughter. Of bodies pulsating against bodies.Of skin grinding against skin. Gasps. Sweat. Breaths. Of slimy bodies and of repugnant odour and screams. Of crevasses that remind her of bodybags.)

Something bitter reigns on Katherine’s lips.

“... no, I don’t. See? There’s something broken in me, something unnatural, Anna, I—”

And she falters. Anna looks at her: with concern, with care. 

And gentleness not before heard in her voice presses through Anna’s tone, so soft, so quiet. “Katherine, have you heard of asexuality before?”

.

And there is something that chokes at the back of her throat. As she looks at articles and comments and statements. Asexuality.

Because she thought she was wrong and thought she was broken and it didn’t make sense, not before. 

But she trawls through articles. She trawls through what other people say and it hits. Their words make sense. They resonate. 

This… this is her. 

(And she remembers how she’d cried, then, into Anna’s shoulder. And she remembers when Anna held her. And had murmured.)

(They were wrong. They are wrong for wronging you. You are not wrong, Katherine. Don’t you dare say that you are wrong, that you are abhorrent, that you are broken . You are not. You are yourself. And there is nothing wrong with you.)

She isn’t alone.

(She never was, not really. But she just never… knew.)

.

They didn’t believe it when she’d said it; not at first, the moment she’d gathered everyone in the living room, told them she had something to say.

“I’m asexual. That means... I don’t feel… sexual attraction. Not towards others. Not to anyone.”

But the Queens’ eyes are wide and there is a glimmer of a smile that hangs off their lips. And Katherine feels something twitch by her mouth, too.

“Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us, Katherine,” says Jane, softly. “We love you no matter what.” 

Her cousin has mischief made in her eyes. Parr’s own are sparkling. And Anna is smiling with the knowledge already. 

She tells them. Because, unlike the Court, where her pretence was given, she doesn’t want to convince them of the same. She wants to tell them. Who she is. Herself, whole and herself. 

And there are questions, of course; there always are questions. But they are made in good faith, they are genuine queries, and Anna is there to help her answer, too. 

By the end of it all, Anne cocks her head. “Can I ask you a question, Katherine?”

(And it’s serious, she knows: for Anne, so taken to calling her a variety of nicknames, had never really called her by her full name, at all.)

Katherine nods. 

“Is that because of them?”

Because of what they’ve done to you? 

Katherine muses this, for a moment. 

“No,” she finally says. “No, I don’t think so.”

Because. It is undeniable that they’ve... changed her. Despite how much she hates that they have. That she wishes it were not so. They’ve changed her. But not that way. 

“I think I’ve always been…” and she tries the words on her lips. Half a smile perks by her mouth. “Ace.”

And they embrace her, there, and then.

(She lets them.)

.

And, perhaps, it comes to this.

Katherine Howard does not know love. 

Not sexual love, at least. But sexual love is not all there is to love. And it does not mean that she is broken, that she is lesser, if she doesn’t want it.  

(And… she’s still thinking about romantic love. She isn’t sure, not yet, at least. Perhaps she is aromantic; perhaps she is not. She’s not ruling anything out yet. She’s patient. She’ll wait and see.)

(Yet: the flutter in her chest when she sees Anna, implies, perhaps, something else.)

What Katherine does know, however, is this:

She knows love. 

She knows love made with care, with zest, with euphoria. 

She knows familial love.

(She knows romantic love.)

And that kind of love is all she wants. That love is what she needs.

(Katherine Howard does not know love; not at first, not all of its forms and its intricacies. But, she thinks. She does, now.)

.

“How about… I’m the ten amongst these threes?”

“Anne!”

“What? Let Katherine decide if she likes it or not!”

Katherine stifles a laugh in the back of her throat. She looks between an exasperated Anna to a far-too-happily expectant cousin. “I like the irony in me judging you all for your looks.”

“See! She likes it!”

“Only the irony, Anne.” Katherine says, a hint of a smile upon her lips. “I will never not enjoy the fact that the most sexual song is sung by the most asexual person of this group.”

Anne laughs. “Me too, Kat. And we love you for it.”

“Yeah,” Katherine says, and a certain warmth pools in her heart, despite how much her words are sunken in humour. “I know you all do.” 

-

A/N. Hi all! 

Thank you so much for reading. I feel like this fic is almost an amalgamation of Breathe For Them and Dance For Them; and I hope you’ve enjoyed it! I really have writing it. 

Pertaining historical accuracy, the sequence of events are the same that of Breathe For Them and Dance For Them; obviously, I’ve taken a fair few liberties. A few comments about appearances are anachronistic, and probably what might be improbable was the Royal Court talk about men, since female sexuality was frowned upon. However, court gossip did exist, which is what I’d mostly basing those scenes on. 

About Katherine’s sexuality—I headcanon Six!Katherine as ace homoromantic, who feels aesthetic attraction; which interweaves with the Don’t series overall. 

I know that it’s been a hot second since I’ve stepped my toes into this fandom, and it’s been so much fun revisiting Katherine after… almost a year. But I hope you guys liked this anyhow! 

[cv-nobody-and-associates]

Foggyvent Epilogue, and a new beginning

Nobody Wants To Know

Part I – Prologue

The Hub was an interesting place. A meeting place among the infinite dimensions across the multiverse, it was a large and vaguely dome-shaped space with a pale silver colour in the sky and a metallic texture to its walls and floor. It was filled with tables and chairs of various sizes and shapes to accommodate all of the physical impossibilities that would find themselves sitting there, and it was at one such table that Nobody found herself in conversation with her succubus companion, Zila.

The two had loved one another from their first meeting, and as such when Nobody needed comfort and answers after her experience with the fog, there was only one person she sought out. Launch was a close second, but her second partner was rather difficult to track down on most occasions, and was usually not interested in getting involved in serious matters such as this, preferring to take a more background role.

“…And then the vision passed.” Nobody finished her recounting of exactly what she had seen in the fog – the two figures that taunted her and the vision of those she cared about most laying dead at her feet. “I still don’t know what it truly meant, but ever since I’ve been feeling…different than I used to. I don’t think that I only saw my fears.”

“You think it was some kind of vision?” Zila said, in that youthful silken voice of hers. In more pleasant circumstances, Nobody could lose herself in that wondrous sound, but at the moment she had more pressing concerns. Still, even watching Zila’s beautiful skin and golden blond hair, gazing into her piercing yellow eyes as she spoke, brought Nobody comfort.

“Sort of.” Nobody answered. “Not a vision of the future, but perhaps it was showing me some truth within myself. Something I have been incapable of remembering for whatever reason. Perhaps a good reason.” Zila seemed to frown at that, and Nobody almost felt dumb for even suggesting the idea. At times, Zila’s charisma was infectious even without her willing it. One of many features that came from being a Succubus. Two drinks arrived at their table, which Zila took, passing one to Nobody, who nodded her thanks.

“What kinda ‘good reason’,” Zila said, emphasising the air-quotes. “Would there be for not knowing who you are?” She asked. Nobody shrugged in response, uncertain of how to answer the question herself.

“I can only conclude it’s something my employer would want.” She replied. “Kuryo has informed me that my existence has certain terms, namely serving him on my missions. This could be another?” Nobody shook her head. “I’m really not sure, and it’s something I intend to look into. But it’s not the only reason I came here.”

“Oh?” Zila said, placing her head forward and resting it on one slender yet well-toned blue arm. She grinned for a moment, showing pale white fanged teeth for just a moment. Behind her question-marked face, Nobody smiled warmly, and placed her hand on Zila’s free one.

“I also came to see you.” She said happily. Zila’s face blushed a warm red colour, something that Nobody found adorably amusing. “After seeing the other vision, seeing you lifeless… I had to. I’m sure my friends would consider it selfish, but I won’t apologise for my devotion to you surpassing any other factors.”

“You mean everything to me, Zila.”

“Y-you’re just trying to make me blush!” Zila playfully protested, quickly putting her hands to her face and shaking side to side, a sight that made Nobody laugh, with a genuineness she hadn’t felt in quite some time. Zila took a moment to calm herself before speaking again.

“What about your other partner? Lift-off or Rise or something like that?” She asked, and Nobody sighed.

“Launch.” She corrected. “I love them too. Of course I do, and there’s next to nothing I wouldn’t do for them. We’ve discussed this before, and nothing has changed.”

“Nothing?” Zila asked. “Wait, does that mean that they still don’t know about… you know, about us?”

“Whether or not they’re aware, I cannot say.” Nobody said, leaning back in her seat and sipping her drink, an odd substance that tasted vaguely like orange juice despite looking like clear water. “But I have yet to have the opportunity to tell them. I intended to, but then they died.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Don’t panic, it wasn’t permanent.” Nobody chuckled, and Zila sighed in relief. “I don’t fully understand the details, but they have a system in place that makes them essentially immortal. They respawned, and sent me their location. Alas, I was unable to find them before getting side-tracked by work. We next saw each other at the New Year’s party on Creatorverse, Internia. And only briefly before disaster struck.”

“What kind of disaster?” Zila asked. She was always curious about Creatorverse, a world that she herself had yet to visit. “Was it those Blockhead things you told me about?” Nobody shook her head.

“No, I’m told it was Mori.” Zila nodded, vaguely recalling what Nobody had said about the mysterious Mori.

“That’s the destroyer god, right?” She asked. Nobody thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Something like that, I think. I forget the full story, and no one ever seems to agree on the details.” She answered. “All I know is that Mori used to live in Creatorverse, but was exiled for some reason, and now they want to destroy us all for revenge?” Zila raised an eyebrow.

“That sounds kinda fishy.”

“I agree.” Nobody nodded. “But it’s not really my business to examine it further. I’ve got nothing against Mori, nor any of their companions. I’ll only intervene if absolutely necessary. Not my fight.”

“So, they sabotaged the party?” Nobody nodded at Zila’s deduction.

“Indeed. They were also responsible for releasing the fog. I think they were trying to get some kind of paperwork using it, but I don’t believe I caught the full message before I left. I didn’t see Launch at all after New Year’s. I hope they avoided the fog.”  

“I hope they’re okay too.” Zila said comfortingly. “Based on what you’ve told me, they sound pretty cool.” She smiled at Nobody.

“If they only seem ‘pretty cool’, I must have undersold them.” Nobody joked, and the two laughed pleasantly for a few moments.

“Hopefully I’ll get to meet them someday.” Zila said. Nobody nodded, raising her glass.

“With any luck. It would be great for all three of us to hang out sometime.” The two lovers clinked their glasses together happily and drank for a moment. There was a pause before Zila spoke again, this time nervously.

“If…” She hesitated, and Nobody leaned forward, listening intently. “If you had to choose. If you had to choose between me or them-”

“I’d choose you.” Nobody cut her off. “I love Launch, I care for them a lot, but you’re always my number one priority.”

“Thank you.” Zila said after a moment, shining clear watery tears.

“No need to thank me for honesty.” Nobody replied. “But enough about me. How have you been? Hopefully you’ve been doing better than my vision suggested.” She joked, which caused Zila to chuckle before groaning into her hands at the thought of how things had been going for her.

“Ugh. Let’s just say I’m glad you’re here. Things haven’t been going well since our last meeting.” Nobody took a long sip of her drink.

“Oh, trouble at work?” Nobody asked, setting Zila off.

“You have no idea!” She cried, throwing her arms up in frustration for a moment. “All I’m trying to do is seduce people and take their souls, but everyone keeps trying to get feelings involved! It’s so uncomfortable. I’m just there to fuck, not for love.”

“That’s not how I remember our times in bed.” Nobody said light-heartedly. “I seem to recall us being very passionate indeed, in more ways than just physical.” Zila froze for a moment, going red.

“You’re the exception.” She said, seemingly both flustered and amused. “No one else is like you, ya know.”

“I believe I do.” Nobody nodded. Her thoughts wandered back to her vision in the fog for another moment. “Although I find myself wondering as to what I am like now. There’s still so much I don’t know…” She trailed off, something Zila noticed.

“It’s the vision, isn’t it?” She asked, to which Nobody nodded. “If it’s bugging you so much, you gotta go look into it.” Nobody looked up for a moment.

“I…” She stumbled over her words. “I have some ideas. Nothing concrete, but there are a few places that might hold some answers for me.” She thought for a moment.

“The other Nobodies.”

“Pardon?”

“When I enter another world, there is only one me.” Nobody began to explain frantically. “I just change to fit that world and its rules. But there are three exceptions I know of. One I made, one I chose, and one took the name herself. Three other Nobodies. And if I am included, there are three people within me. It’s not a coincidence, I just don’t know how it connects.” Zila smiled happily. Hearing Nobody ramble so passionately always brought her joy.

And if she was being honest, she had certain ideas for what to do with three Nobody’s…

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go check them out!” Zila encouraged. Nobody smiled beneath her question-marked face and burst forth from her seat, before remembering a crucial detail she had forgotten.

“WAIT, CV!” She yelled in a panic. “I was meant to get some things! Vanilla extract and a big magic supply! And I was meant to help those outside in the fog!”

“Wait, the fog was still happening when you got here?!” Zila shrieked in surprise. “I thought it was done!”

“I’M SORRY, I HAD TO SEE YOU!” Nobody said in response. Zila stood for a moment, briefly going red before sighing.

“Hun, I love you, but sometimes you can be a real dumbass.” Nobody nodded at Zila’s wisdom, chuckling a little. “Give me a sec, I’ll help.” Nobody gave Zila a quick hug in response to her words.

“Thanks Zila, you’re a life saver!” Zila rolled her eyes but gave Nobody a loving smile as she gently left her arms, and opened up a flaming portal. One of the perks of being a succubus was the ability to essentially travel anywhere, and in style to boot.  

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Zila said, before blowing a kiss at Nobody, which the question mark girl happily caught. She then vanished through the portal.

As she waited for Zila’s return, Nobody took the time to write a small note to apologise for her absence.

Dear Shandy, or whoever else finds this note,

I apologise for failing in my duties during the Fog Outbreak. I had much to do, and some crucial personal business that I am afraid takes priority over anything and anyone within the city. Said personal business is also why I will not be returning in person.

The Fog may have shown others their fears, but to me it showed a vision. It allowed for some part of me long forgotten to connect to the rest, and I now need to find answers. I understand if you will not forgive me, but I shall not apologise.

However, thanks to a special someone, I have some gifts I had promised, that I hope shall make up for my extended absence.

Take care, and don’t die,

Nobody In Particular

Zila returned as soon as she had finished writing the letter, holding a rather nice-looking woven basket.

“Alright, I got you a bunch of Vanilla extract, a duplication ring they can use to get more, and…” She took out a large black sphere that seemed to hold within it a burning white-hot flame. “One Hell Pandora. It’s a magic sphere that holds some of the most potent powers and souls from hell, like a pocket dimension. Don’t worry about using souls, they were in Hell for a reason.”  

Nobody nodded, taking the basket and briefly opening a portal of her own. She placed it carefully at the door of the council building, never fully stepping through. Once she was sure it had been safely placed down, she came back to The Hub.

She then wrapped Zila in a tender embrace, and after a moment the gesture was returned.

“I may not know the full story of who I am,” She began, before moving to look Zila right in the eyes, holding her by the shoulders. “But I know that I love you, and I always will.” After a moment’s hesitation, Nobody peeled back the question-mark face she wore, revealing her True Form and its human face beneath. Then, she gently removed that face as well, showing off the face of her Final Form.

Her right eye was finally open, a prism of strange and interdimensional energy held within it. Her natural blonde hair now stood in eerily still spikes, mixing with a misty aura around her. Her mouth was now masked with a deep purple and black misty aura, mixed with fiery fangs.  

This was Nobody in her purest state, something that only Zila had ever seen. And whilst most avoided it as much as possible due to its fearful effects, Zila only ever admired it as she did all aspects of her lover.

Gently, Nobody kissed Zila, letting their mouths come to a pleasant embrace. It was all too brief for the both of them, but at the same time it was also a moment that neither would ever forget.

“No matter who you become, I’ll always love you.” Zila said, gently caressing Nobody’s face as it morphed back to its default question-mark state.  

“Now go.” She spoke. “I’ll be waiting for when you return.”

And with those final words, Nobody departed, beginning her search for answers.

[END]

AN: Thanks for reading this! This started as just an epilogue for the Creatorverse Foggyvent, but I’ve been working on some of Nobody’s backstory and lore, so the idea to expand this struck me as an excellent way to explore it! The three other Nobody’s mentioned are all characters that I created, and the only AU Nobody’s to not just be the canon one shifting based on the world she’s in.

I should probably give some context for that. The short version is that Nobody is an extra-dimensional being. Specifically, she is a Fusion, which in this case means she is a cross between the souls of a Creator from Internia and an entity known as a Void Demon, an energy being that lives in the Void, a space between realities. Both of these are separate from Nobody, who is a third being created from combining the previous two. More info will be revealed as the story progresses.

As for Zila, she’s another sona of mine! I made her to be a somewhat less complex character than Nobody, who has a lot more complex lore behind her. So Zila’s whole deal is that she’s a Succubus from a realm known as Hell, and she travels across realms to…well, do what Succubi do. I’d be happy to talk more about her if asked.

Worth noting, Nobody is indeed canonically cheating on Zila with Launch, even though Zila is aware and fine with it. It’s not a poly without everyone knowing what’s going on and giving consent, and since Nobody has yet to tell Launch about Zila, it’s cheating. Out of character, Zila is just another representation of me just like Nobody. They’re both parts of me. So, unless dating literally myself counts, no IRL relationships are affected whatsoever.

There’s more I could ramble on about, but I don’t want to drag this AN out for too long, so I’ll leave you here. I hope you enjoyed this!

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 6

A/N: hehehe here we gooo... chapter six!!!

Just a side note - I don’t want this Chapter to encourage women fighting or blaming the other woman for a mans behaviour - I believe in women sticking together! However, this chapter does contain some toxic female behaviour that we as humans fall into from time to time, that I do not condone ! 

I hope you enjoy my loves xx

I fiddle with my hands, bouncing my leg nervously in my chair as we wait for Michael and Gina to arrive to the meeting. They have no idea I’m going to be here. And honestly, I kind of wish I wasn’t here right now either. Tommy, Arthur and Polly all sit around the table as well, trying also act like they’re not nervous.

I couldn’t care less about what Gina might say. Or do. I just can’t stand to see Michael.

But before I have the opportunity to completely back out of this, the door knob turns and the both of them enter through the door. I jolt with shock in my seat, as my nerves are on high alert. Anything would set me off right now. They stall in the hall way first, as Michael takes off Gina’s coat. As I notice my heart rate elevating, I also notice that I’m staring at them.

God what do I do? Where am I supposed to look?

Michael walks into the room first before Gina, taking his hat of and looks up to greet everyone. His eyes shoot to me immediately. They widen. He stops dead in his tracks, like he’s just run into an invisible wall. He looks so pale that I could have sworn I physically saw the blood drain from his face. Hell, I’m sure mine’s not much different.

I will never get used to seeing him like this. Seeing us like this. Together in a room and not being greeting each other with a smile and a kiss, but instead with silent stares and tension that you could cut with a knife. This isn’t us. This will never be normal. No matter how much I am around him, this will always feel completely wrong. I have to face it; I feel completely wrong being in this world without him by my side.

I’m distracted from my thoughts when from behind the collar of his shirt I see him swallow, hard.

That is not like Michael. I know him. No matter how much he may feel like a stranger now, I still know him inside and out. And I know he has a poker face to kill. Under pressure, Michael is cold. Calm. Collected. He has to be in this business. But right now, I can see every single micro expression.

Why would he be acting like this if he hates me? If he truly doesn’t care for me anymore, if he doesn’t love me, then how come every time he see’s me he looks like a nervous school boy?

What is going on in your head, Michael Gray?

The painful silence of the room is bursted like a bubble when Gina walks into the room behind Michael.

And just like her husband, she freezes in her tracks. But unlike him, she doesn’t stand there speechless. Her face distorts into a scowl immediately as she eyes me up and down with disgust.

“What is she doing here?” she asks, not to dissimilar from a snake hissing.

I scoff, shaking my head. You’ve gotta hand it to her, she’s got some fucking balls. More balls than Michael.

“Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it either sweetheart” I reply, forcing a tight smile at her.

“Take a seat, Gina” Polly warns Gina, her voice harsh.

She keeps her eyes glued on me like a hawk, as Michael quickly launches into action and pulls out a chair for her and him to sit down at the table.

“Isabelle” Tommy begins, emphasising my name “Is here to work for us again, for the family” he emphasises “since thats what she is”

Gina’s mouth shoots open immediately, ready to interject. As if she has the right to speak up in a family meeting anyway. She’s hardly family. A ring doesn’t make you family.

“I’m not done,” Tommy growls, and Gina blinks rapidly. Not used to being told no, I assume.

“I don’t give a damn what anyone here thinks about this decision. I don’t give a damn about whatever has gone on here. If you’re as smart a business man as you want us to treat you as Michael, than I would think you can look past you and your wifes own personal… demands… to see that this is what the business needs. This isn’t about what you need. This is about the business” Tommy stops, letting it soak in “And she’s the best at what she does. The best we’ve ever had working for Shelby Limited. You can’t deny that, Michael. And we need her back. We need you back, Izzy”

There’s silence. Not that I expected Gina and Michael to be jumping for joy. I don’t dare look at Michael. I don’t want to see the look on his face. So I keep my eyes glued to the table.

“Now if anyone wants to speak, then speak. Gina, I’m sure you have something to say” Tommy scoffs as he sticks a cigarette in his mouth “Whatever you have to say, get it of your chest now. Because from this point forward, I won’t hear a word of it”

Tommy looks over at me, signalling me to speak. I shake my head at Tommy. He knows I have nothing to say to Michael. To Gina. To anyone.

I wait nervously as Tommy nods, turning his attention to Michael. But Michael doesn’t speak either.

When no one speaks, a baffled Gina begins to scoff and huff. Upset that she’s not getting her way I suppose. What do they call that? A tantrum?

“So that’s it? We don’t get to vote on this? Isn’t that what happens at these family meetings” She throws her hands up in the air before bringing them back down to slap the table.

I look up ever so slightly to see Tommy shaking his head, rubbing it in irritation at Gina squawking at him in her American accent.

To my left I spot Arthur, who is stifling a laugh as he takes a swig of his drink. A woman like Gina isn’t common around here- the way she carries on like it’s her god given right-  I’m sure Arthur thinks the circus has come to town.

“This isn’t a voting matter” Tommy says, his voice firm “This is final”

But of course, Gina won’t take no for an answer. She turns her fit of anger towards Michael.

“Michael?” She begins, her voice high and shrill as she glares at him in bewilderment “Baby you’re not going to say anything? You know how this… how she… makes me feel” She hisses in his ear.

You’ve got yourself in trouble here haven’t you, Michael.

It’s a double edged sword, this is. And he knows it. I see him staring, paralysed, in the corner of my eyes. If he does stand up for Gina everyone in this room will think he’s completely brainwashed this time, they will never take his word about the business. But if he doesn’t speak up, he’s going to feel Gina’s wrath and it’s not pretty. And who knows what consequences that might hold for everyone. She already seems to have Michael strung up like her very own puppet. I’m betting he would do anything to appease an angry Gina. Maybe that’s how he got into this mess in the first place. One big old tantrum and the only way to suffice her rage was marriage? Of course I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem that unrealistic now that I’m learning more about this wicked woman he is married to.

Her demands at Michael drone on, and I can see the tension from Arthur, Polly and Tommy growing rapidly.

Tommy is about to explode. Jaw clenched tight, he glares at Michael, waiting impatiently for him to pull Gina back into line. Polly looks like she’s about to take a hand across Gina’s face.  If this gets out of control, the fall out would be horrific. Gina may force Michael to cut ties with the family completely. Never see us again.

Finally, I look at Michael, who I’m shocked to find is already staring at me. Eyes widened, panicked, and screaming. He looks desperate for someone to say something. Before he does.

“Gina” I shout suddenly, almost taken aback by my own voice. But I remain steady, strong. I’ve opened my mouth now. I cannot back down. This needs to stop. Everyone’s heads shoot towards me, including Gina’s. She stares at me. Eyes wide open. Lips pursed tightly. I realise we’ve actually never spoken before. If I’m lucky this will be one of very few times I have to converse with such a horrid woman. I can feel Michael’s eyes burning into my like hot beams. I can’t imagine the back flips his stomach is doing waiting for what I might say. Actually, I can imagine. That’s exactly how he made me feel the day he came to visit me in my apartment. Good. I hope it hurts just as badly as it did for me. I turn in my seat, facing Gina head on.

“You want to live here, right? In your big house in the country? With your husband? Lot’s of kids? Well I promise you, that I will make this company enough money for you to buy your precious mansion 5 times over. Because despite your conspiracy, I have no desire to ruin your marriage. So just let me do my job, and I’ll stay out of your way while I do it. Deal?”

“Like I would take your word” she grills me “I know what your agenda is here”

I momentarily flicker my eyes towards Michael, and watch his move uncomfortably in his seat. Squirming.

“Actually my agenda was to be anywhere but here. I was abiding by you and your husbands demands. Gladly. But here we are”

“So you’re telling me I have to believe you’re just here to work? Seriously?”

“What do you think I have to gain from this, Gina?”

“Everything” she replies, and that word guts me. Everything. I thought I had everything. But my everything is hers now.

“I already lost that” I say, shaking my head. Without needing specifics, she know’s exactly what I’m talking about. I lost my everything to her.

Gina stares at me, her jaw clenching like she has many words she would like to say to me right now, but she never speaks.

Because she knows I’m right. And if she is as smart as she is cunning and calculating, then she is realising that her mouth should stay shut.

She folds her arms across her chest, then sits back in her seat.

“Michael? Anything to add?” Tommy pushes him to speak.

“It’s whats best for the business” his voice is low and gruff.

Gina’s head shoots towards him, and her face twists into a look I’ve never seen before. She is absolutely fuming.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” She exclaims “Are you serious right now Michael?”

He doesn’t dare reply.

“I think he’s serious, sweetheart” Polly says, when Michael doesn’t speak.

With a huff she stands abruptly, shoving her chair back.

“Don’t you see it? She is jealous! She’s here to worm her way in between us and ruin our marriage-“

“Gina that is enough!” Michael’s voice booms through the room as he shouts at his wife.

Michael never raises his voice. He certainly never raised it at me. Not even once. And rarely at anyone else. He always said he thought people only yelled to overcompensate. That fact that she pushed him to that point, speaks volumes. But his yelling isn’t the only thing that shocks me. The realisation soon sets in that he just… defended me….

Everyone’s eyes are glued to Gina as her neck grows into a bright red, followed quickly by her cheeks blushing violently.

She spins on her heels rapidly, storming out of the room. We listen as she snatches her coat of the hanger and blazes out the front door, slamming it behind her with rage.

Michael rubs the back of his neck, his head hanging in defeat and embarrassment.

“Michael, I’m sorry-“ I breathe, feeling horrible. This is all my fault. I should never have come here.

He stands to leave, straightening his tie and his collar nervously before he looks over at me.

“No, I’m sorry Izzy” he shakes his head at me, his voice quiet. Our eyes lock, once again. He holds my gaze this time. He looks… tired. Completely exhausted. He leaves the room, and soon after we hear him leave through the front door.

I stare in his direction. Frozen. Why was he… defending me? Why was he going against Gina for my sake? And I’m terrified. Terrified of the consequences and punishment he will suffer from for doing so.

“Are you okay?” I hear Polly ask, and I nod my head, but I don’t mean it. I’m just in autopilot. I couldn’t be more confused. The way he looked at me… his face shrouded in shame, regret, exhaustion, defeat, sorrow, guilt. All of those and a million others that would take me hours to comb through and differentiate.

Now I know what they meant. Tommy, Polly and Arthur. When they talked about something not being quite right. About something hiding behind his eyes. That he is different with Gina…

Does Michael still have feelings for me? He used to. All of that love, that bond, cannot just disappear. Maybe I haven’t lost him. Not completely. Maybe my Michael is still there… But what is he hiding?

Does Michael still love me?

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[youmademe-stay]

hyunjin x (y/n) - oneshot [part 1/8]

You checked your phone one last time as you turned around the corner. the time read "11:45 am" and you were about 5 minutes late.

 "she's going to kill me", you thought to yourself as you put your phone back into your handbag and ran a hand through your styled hair. when your mother messaged you about having a meeting today, it really threw you off as you had planned to have two separate meetings with the company's lawyers before taking a break at your favourite café - but obviously, that was now out of the question, as you had to swap your comfy boots for your medium-sized black heels, a long dark green dress that almost completely outlined your body perfectly but at the same time left enough space for modesty and a black blazer that you left lying on top of your handbag, which you held by the handles

 as you came closer to the room, you practised your smile. the message you got in the morning was of course, like most messages from your mother, vague as fuck. "meeting in room 45, the fourth floor" this could've meant anything - a meeting with an important shareholder, a potential future Commander or Chief, or even an upset client

 you were finally there. the infamous Room 45, of the 4th floor. this room had always been, and always would be as far as you were concerned, one of the only rooms that were reserved only for family members to book - so basically, you and your mother.

 you placed a hand on the glass of the door and pushed it open, giving a bright smile to the guests - a man and a woman, before lowering your head to greet them and doing the same towards your mother, who was giving you a cheeky smile beneath her thick layers of lipstick

 'Good morning, my name is (y/n)(l/n). it's an honour to meet you two today' you coolly placed your bag down next to your seat before holding your hands out to greet the two of them. from your first initial scan of them, the woman was older than your mother but still relatively young, and the man with her was either her son or nephew and looked to be around your age or a few years younger

 'it's very nice to meet you too, (y/n) - ah' the lady replied with a warm smile, throwing you off slightly because of how she warmed up to you so quickly. you shook her hand with both hands, and after she let go, turned to the man, and held just one hand out to him

 'nice to meet you too Mr...'

 'Hyunjin' he said with a strict face as he shook your hand back. you forced yourself to not make any "extra" facial reaction when realising how soft his hand felt and how gentle his handshake was, and how much it contrasted with his strict face. he held onto your hand for a few seconds, but for you, it was one or two seconds too long, so you curved the ends of your fingers slightly inwards and let your nails touch his skin. 

 just as you wanted and expected, he let go of your hand. you then sat down and let your mother fill you in on the reason why this meeting was happening

 'so, (y/n) - ah,' your mother started off, 'this is Mrs Hwang, and her son Hwang Hyunjin. I've known Mrs Hwang for a few years now, thanks to some overlapping business conferences. she and her son own a company like our own!'

 'that's amazing, Mrs Hwang. I always find it very inspiring when I see women of any age in charge and responsible for companies like ours' you mentioned in a low voice, catching her eye as you said this. you smiled brightly as she smiled too, and you could've sworn from the corner of your eye, that you saw the Hyunjin dude roll his eyes

 'thank you (y/n)' you winced on the inside when she added the little touch of affection at the end of your name. it wasn't something you were used to, at all. 

 'but (y/n), as you know what issues we're facing right now...' you snapped back and paid attention to your mother, 'I had a talk with Mrs Hwang and her son here, and we both thought of something...'

 'Which is? oh, are we going to go into a merger? or a collaboration?'

 you turned slightly in your chair to face your mother, scanning her face for any clues on what she was about to say. no number of skills that you built in your mind over the years would've prepared you for the words that were about to hit your ears...

 'We were hoping you and Hyunjin would be willing...to get married, as part of a merger'

 your mouth dropped open before you could even force yourself to control your facial expressions. you glanced over at the two people sitting opposite you - Hyunjin had the same facial expression he had when you walked in, a strict and blank one, whilst his mother smiled at you, just a little less brightly than when you complimented her

 'I know it's a big thing to ask for' Mrs Hwang started to say. it hit you at that point why she was being so affectionate in the way she spoke to you, despite this being the first time you both had met, 'it's probably not what you had in mind at all coming here today. naturally, as a woman, I would never want you to be stripped of your right for something so beautiful like your marriage, but I've known your mother for years now, and I need to let you know that I would never come to this sort of plan with anyone else but her'

 'if you think about it this way, us getting married will benefit a lot of people. so, let's not be selfish here, and just do it' Hyunjin suddenly exclaimed. you immediately turned your head in his direction and glared into his large eyes. 

 as if his mother could read what you were trying to express through your eyes, she reached her arm out and hit Hyunjin on the arm, causing him to break the staring contest and wince in pain from the hit

 'Hyunjin-ah, don't interrupt me' she muttered in a low but audible voice in his direction. 'anyways, (y/n) - ah' she addressed you again. 'I know it's a big deal to ask of you. but as my son just put it, albeit it being very unprofessional, the fact that a lot of people will benefit from this...merger, if you call it, is true.'

 '(y/n)' you felt your mother's hand go on top of yours. her hand was warm and small, fitting cutely over your freezing cold large ones. 'I know it's a big decision, but you know I would never ask this of you if it weren't for current times. right?'

 you lowered your head slightly and glanced at hers and your hand on top of your right thigh, your heartbeat going quicker than the thoughts in your head. your mind was full of so many questions and excuses that ultimately, you were speechless

 'I...Mr Hyunjin' you looked up and gulped silently as you looked directly into his eyes once again, this time not in anger but in determination for the truth - something you were good at scanning for, regardless of how flustered you are.

 'Yes?'

 'are you okay with, all of this?'

 'well - ' he made eye contact with his mother, then sat up and continued speaking, 'I am okay with this. it was as shocking to me as it was to you, but since I only found out yesterday, I've already had a whole day to understand and come to terms with it. so, I will marry you'

 '(y/n), if you say no, then it's okay...we will find another way' you felt your mother's hand on you squeeze your hand a little bit. 'you know that your opinion to me matters more than anything - especially the company'

 now it was your turn to smile. 'mother, you know that the company matters a lot more than anything right now. while I can't, ' you sighed, 'while I can't believe that I'll have to get married right now, you and I both know that I will do what I have to do'

 '(y/n) - ah, that's amazing to hear' Mrs Hwang said

 'However,' you placed your other hand on top of your mother's and lightly pulled it off. 'I do have a few conditions'

 'first of all, there's no way I can get married straight away, especially to a stranger. I need at least a week in order to make a final decision. the second condition is that if at the end of the time period, I really can't come to terms with the idea of marrying Mr Hyunjin, then the marriage cannot happen, but, if possible I'd like to propose another way our companies can work together to deal with the issues we have. which comes to the third condition - if this marriage really doesn't happen, I really don't want any friendships to be ruined because of it' you emphasised the last one in particular towards your mother, since out of the four of you, only she and Mrs Hwang were the ones who actually had a friendship.

 'picky, aren't you?' You heard Hyunjin mutter, but you chose to ignore him. This was, after all, your speciality. Business 

 'this marriage, if it is to happen, is going to happen because of business purposes. To help strengthen the merger and make any current issues disappear. So, I feel like it is necessary we get through all the details now, so if anyone wants to back out,' you glanced in Hyunjin' s direction for a second before looking back at his mother, 'then we can figure out other solutions for our problems' 

 'will you need a contract to be signed too?' Mrs Hwang asked. Your feeling of anger immediately dropped when hearing the genuine concern in her voice - of course, you were angry at the fact that you had to get married and spend time with the loser called Hyunjin, but when his mother spoke, you realised that this really was as big of a deal to the mothers as it was for you and him

 'no, I don't think we should go that far' you replied to her, in a much more calmed down voice. "I'll save the anger for him" you mentally told yourself as the mothers began chatting excitedly at the idea of having a brand-new relationship between them: in-laws 

 As the two of them spoke and breezed through things like where yours and Hyunjin's week would be spent together, where the wedding would be, who would get invited etc, you couldn't help but stare at him. 

 Hwang Hyunjin. Such a regal name, but at the same time, it was fitting of him. You couldn't deny that he was good looking, because you could always get angry at someone but never become delusional. His face completely fit the Prince of your dreams that you would've had at age 10 or maybe a little more, regardless of how his black hair was growing into a mullet whilst the price of your dreams had always had undercuts. 

 Whilst you stared at him, he looked away from the ground and directly into your eyes. Naturally, you would have and should have looked away, but there was someone in his eyes that forced you to keep on looking - something, maybe your gut feeling, was telling you that he was hiding a lot more than he revealed...he might be "okay" with the idea of getting married... But being "okay" is not all he was

 'Is there something on my face?' he suddenly asked out loud, throwing you off the tracks of your thoughts and back into reality. You gulped, realising that both your mothers had stopped speaking as well in order to see what the conversation between the two of you was going to be like 

 'No, but I feel like I've met you somewhere before today' you blurted out without thinking 

 Hyunjin smiled weakly, with to your surprise, making a little dimple pop out of nowhere on his cheek. 'I was wondering if you'd realise today or by the time we'd get married. I met you at the wedding, didn't I?' 

 'the wedding?' 

 'you said you remembered. Bang Chan's wedding with - '

 Your eyes widened on their own as you realised what he was talking about. Despite the meeting him before thing, was fake as soon as you heard "Bang Chan" you knew that you actually HAD met him before. After all, there aren't many people you know that had a unique name like Bang Chan's

 'we met at the wedding, didn't we?' 

 'yes... That's what I just told you' 

 'can someone explain to us old ladies too?' your mother asked

 'mother, remember when I went to Maria's wedding and I told you some jerk - I mean, some guy, jumped and took her bouquet when it was coming in my direction?' 

 'oh my, was that Hyunjin?!' 

 You nodded with a little pout on your lips - but to your disappointment, instead of getting his mum to hit him again and have your mother console you over him stealing the bouquet that was clearly intended for you - the mothers began squealing like little children, exclaiming repeatedly about how it was "destiny" for the two of you to meet beforehand and the bouquet was a sign for yours and his future... Together

 ''I should've pretended to not know'' you thought to yourself as Hyunjin smirked at you. this little bitch not only stole your only shot at getting married happily for the first time - he stole the bouquet you and your best friend Maria spent a full 2 hours organising together!

 'ah, (y/n) - ah, you made my old heart feel very happy by telling me that. thank you' his mother said to you once her and your mother's childish talk ended. 'although my child has the habit of being quite immature every now and then, I assure you he also knows how to be mature. especially when it comes to taking care of those around him'

 you nodded and glanced at your mother, who made eye contact with you. after sending her a quick eye signal, she announced to the other two that you had a meeting elsewhere. "thank god she got it" you sighed in relief - the last time you sent her an eye signal to indicate that you had to be elsewhere, she did not understand and that ended up being a very awkward moment for you, her and all 50 employees in the same room...

 you slipped your blazer out from under your handbag's handles and as you stood up, flipped it around your so it rested on your shoulders comfortably. you then picked your bag up and slipped it into your left hand so you could shake Mrs Hwang's hand. you didn't offer a hand to Hyunjin this time, and simply left

 once you had gone, you opened your bag and checked your messages. one of your closest Chiefs thought you were dead because you hadn't checked your messages in half an hour, and another messaged you asking if someone had kidnapped you or not. you smiled at this and slipped your phone into your right hand, ready to type out a response to their messages, when all of a sudden...

 you felt your blazer being pulled off your right shoulder. using your left hand, you turned one foot and tried to stop it from falling onto the ground, when as "destiny" would have it - Hyunjin was there. holding onto one of your blazer sleeves with a look of confusion

 'what - '

 'Sorry, I thought it was your arm' he let go of the blazer, causing it to fall onto the ground. you deadpanned. he made a clicking sound with his teeth, before leaning down and picking it up for you.

 'sorry, again' he handed it back to you. 

 'what are you doing here? are you leaving too?'

 'what? no, I...I had something to tell you'

 you crossed your arms and gave him an expectant look. 'go on'

 'this was the first time we properly met and spoke to each other, and I don't think you have the best impression of me right now, in your head'

 'you don't say'

 'you're not exactly shining in my eyes either Miss (y/n)'

 you narrowed your eyes at him. 'what's your point, Mr Hyunjin?'

 'I think we should forget about the bouquet, and the meeting just now, when the week officially starts. neither of us will benefit if we keep feelings of distaste for each other during the week - do you get what I'm trying to say?'

 you relaxed your eyes and nodded. as much as you'd prefer for him to be wrong, he was right. wasting time and energy being mad at him for small reasons wouldn't help anyone, especially your mother with all her high hopes

 'fine. let's truce from when the week begins to when the week finishes' you held your right hand out and he, for some reason, high-fived it instead of giving you a handshake. "maybe it's only the suit that makes him look mature", you questioned in your head

 'I'll need your number, by the way. my mum said so, and your mum agreed' 

 you couldn't help but chuckle at this. he raised an eyebrow at your reaction

 'what's so funny?'

 'nothing. you sound like a little child getting permission from his mother or something'

 a corner of his lips went up and he chuckled too. 'very funny. I doubt you're older than me. I was born in 2000'

 'that's nice to know' you replied blandly as you opened your Contacts page up on your phone and selected the option to add a new contact. 'here, add your number'

 'aren't you going to tell me when you were born?'

 'maybe I will, maybe I won't. will I get your number today or after the week?'

 he deadpanned but took the phone and typed his number out.

 'if the week goes well, you have to let me know' he told you with an amused smile as he returned your phone. 

 you nodded and turned around and began to make your way again to the lift. "what bullshit" you thought to yourself as you checked your Contacts list to find his number. "why's he so desperate to know my birthday?"

 you looked through your entire list of numbers but couldn't find one with his name on it. making your eyebrows furrow, you checked once again and read carefully, all the names you had to make sure you didn't miss one out. that's when you found it

 "My Handsome One Week Fiancé Jinnie"

 your eyebrows relaxed as you couldn't stop yourself from laughing out loud. as you reached the lifts, you tried to calm yourself down, so you distracted yourself by pressing a button that made the doors open to an empty lift and stepped in. but as soon as you stepped into the lift the giggles returned and you burst out laughing once again

 what you didn't notice was the fact that Hyunjin, after giving you your phone back, hadn't left to go back to Room 45. he was still standing in the same spot you left him at, and when hearing you laugh, knew that you saw his contact name and chuckled quietly to himself too

 as your lift made its way down to the first floor, you finally managed to calm down and edit his name, changing it from "My Handsome One Week Fiancé Jinnie" to "The Bouquet Thief". as you looked at the new name, you unknowingly smiled to yourself as a small thought came to your mind: "maybe this week will be more bearable than it sounds"

 ______________________________________________________________________________

[elixir448]

Good Girls 3x02 Thoughts

The Opening Scene

I think we all knew that Rio was knocking on Rhea’s door, rather than Beth’s. Even so, this opening scene was a gift. Of course, it is meant to mislead the audience into thinking that we are going to see Beth and Rio come face to face for the first time since she shot him but there’s so much more to talk about!

First of all, this season is really setting up Beth and Rio’s relationship as the major driver of the plot and, arguably, this has always been the case. The show is definitely about the girls but Beth and Rio’s relationship (both personal and professional) pushes the story forward. In my opinion, it’s second only to the girls’ changing motivations for being in crime, in terms of plot progression. Manny referred to Beth as Rio’s “archnemesis” in a recent interview and I know a lot of people disagree with this and think it’s funny. While I think the terminology is perhaps a bit off, I think the idea is there and what I love about it is that Beth and Rio’s relationship is so difficult to define, which I touched upon in my 3x01 thoughts post, and it’s impossible to encompass what they are to each other with one word. They have been so many things at so many different times and, gosh, now they have history. A painful, spiteful, kind of tragic, extremely messy history. I love that this season seems to be gearing these two up for what looks like a major confrontation at some point. I can really see things exploding between them later in the season, on a level beyond the alley scene in 2x07.

I’m digressing but the point is that this scene really sets them up as antagonists again, which they have been on and off for the past two seasons. In fact, I’d argue that the term never really departed from their relationship at all and it looks like we’ll be going back to the facade of one-dimensional antagonism for a little while but with the weight of the history they now share, it seems unlikely that they’ll be fooling anyone.

I think it was @foxmagpie who pointed out that Beth is staring into the mirror that Rio smashed in her fantasy in 2x05 and I practically had a stroke when I read that. The way the scene is set up, with Beth and Rio both looking in mirrors is so symbolic of their relationship and what they are to each other. While I would hesitate to call them mirror images, I certainly think that Beth and Rio are similar in the fundamental ways that shape a person but they are so different in others, particularly in the ways that they occupy the worlds that they live in and the lives they have lived.

While Beth is staring in the mirror, we hear Dean say “well, how much did you get for it?!” and it’s quite startling and almost intrusive. Beth and Rio aren’t even in the same room but they’re basically having a moment. And of course Dean has to intrude. Even though Dean is Beth’s husband and despite everything he did in season 2 to keep her, it really represents to me that Dean has been the outsider ever since Beth and Rio met. And, despite Dean’s belief that Rio has been forcing his way into Beth’s life, the reality is that he is the one who has been intruding into their relationship.

Rio has a new car! It’s a G-wagon, it’s loud and kind of pretentious. I do miss the Cadillac but I love that his new car lines up so well with how he’s been this season, which is loud! He had Agent Turner and several other FBI agents killed in the first episode alone. If that’s not loud, I don’t know what is.

Marcus and Rio’s reunion was the sweetest thing ever. I thought my heart was going to explode and release like a ton of rainbows and sunshine and unicorns. The way that Rio held Marcus really said everything about how much he missed his son. Rhea seemed a little ticked off about his sudden reappearance but happy and accepting overall, which really just adds to what we have already learned about the breakdown of their relationship and Rio’s presence in Marcus’ life. I know I said it last week but I have to say it again. I love how much this detail further humanizes Rio, beyond what the introduction of Marcus in 2x01 achieved. He’s not infallible and he has his own, very personal, flaws that affect his family. Just like Beth.

I’ve been seeing a lot of speculation that Rhea knows more than she has been letting on to Beth. Again, I don’t think that’s true. I think Rhea really just saw her relationship with Beth as a genuine friendship and I don’t think she knows anything else. Towards the end of the episode, Beth of course speaks to Rhea and I think that once Rio realised who Rhea’s soccer mum friend was, he filled Rhea in enough for her to realise that Beth intentionally sought her out and cultivated a friendship. This could mean that he told her everything but I doubt that very much. I think he probably told her just enough for Rhea to feel a great deal of hurt over Beth’s actions.

I am a little disappointed that we never got to see the scene where Rio clocks on to the fact that it’s Beth that Rhea is talking about. We’ve been robbed! But honestly I loved the episode so much that it’s fine I guess.

Annie, Sadie, Gregg and Nancy

I really love, love, loved the writers including how difficult transitioning can be because of people around you not keeping up, even if they are fully accepting. I’m not surprised though because the writers have handled Ben’s arc so well.

As for Gregg and Nancy attending couples therapy, I’m not exactly surprised. I do wish that they had parted ways but I do recognise that it’s such a difficult situation to handle with a newborn baby and I do appreciate the realism of it. I personally grew up with a mum who put up with way too much and lived a life that she was way above but she didn’t walk away because of me and my brother. I also see what people mean when they talk about wanting to see Beth take control and walk away from Dean for good because staying together for the sake of the kids is overrated, and I also see how this relates to wanting Nancy to walk away from Gregg. Believe me, I really want to see Beth and Dean part ways, with regards to their marriage. But I also really empathise with the situations Beth and Nancy are both in, for different reasons. Nancy can, of course, financially support herself and her child but Dakota is a newborn baby and I can see why parting ways with Gregg at such a time would be so difficult when they both want to raise their child and be around at all times as he grows up. For Beth, it’s really about financial security and stability and it’s so interesting to me that she continues to chase this with Dean, as he clearly has sunk the family business multiple times before (as discussed by Beth and Annie in 2x04). I think it’s become a bit of a habit at this point, which I am keen to see broken this season!

As for Annie attending therapy. I love it! I think Annie’s at the beginning of a really interesting, introspective path this season and we really saw it doubled down in this episode, with her being called out by Ben once again and comparing her life to a major road traffic accident. I really hope the writers continue with these random introspective moments for Annie, sinceI’m really enjoying them. Her scene with the kid prior to the therapy appointment was A+++, so funny! I wonder if that kid is going to turn up again, especially since he was in quite a few bts pics during hiatus. He’s such an amazing little actor too!

I’m really interested in seeing where her arc goes. We know that she develops an inappropriate crush in 3x04 and I think we all think it’ll be on her therapist; if this is the case, I’m really curious to see whether her therapist finds out and if he reciprocates because it would be incredibly unprofessional and unethical if he pursued something with his own patient.  

Also, Annie is the manager! I straight up hollered during that scene. Mae’s line delivery continues to be hilarious and totally spot-on.

(Side-note here but I love that Beth was drinking a slushie again and that she answers the phone call from Ruby with “hey lady.”)

Judith, Beth and Dean

I really loved Judith and Beth’s scenes in this episode and the depiction of the archetypal mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship. I particularly loved how it emphasised that Dean cannot defend Beth at all; not once in the entire flipping episode did he say a word to help her.

Throughout the episode, we see that Judith is a lot like Dean when it comes to Beth. They don’t listen to her and they don’t see her. Beth had to repeatedly explain that her workplace sells “not just cards” and this is strikingly similar to Dean’s blatant disregard for Beth’s opinions and thoughts.

I think the writers and Jessica Walter did a fantastic job of capturing the complexity of a character like Judith. I’m quite passionate about this kind of thing because I grew up in a family where it was commonplace to see a sort of bitterness develop in women who had suffered a lifetime of simultaneous oppression and complete disregard from men and who had, as a result, developed a kind of internalised misogyny. More so, I love that the writers portray Judith as a character who is very much aware of this bitterness and yet she still personifies what those very men expected of her and she now expects the same from her daughter-in-law.

And yes! I wished that the writers would touch on mental health again and I got it! The discussion about post-partum depression is SO IMPORTANT. Women aren’t just mothers once they have kids; yes, it’s often a crucial part of their identity but it’s certainly not everything. Not even close to everything.

Judith sacrified her working life to raise Dean because her husband made more money than she did and it was expected of her to raise a child; she did not feel like she could have both. She patronises Beth in this scene, acting as though Beth should know better by now. What I love most about this is Beth saying that Judith’s happiness was important and that she shouldn’t have quit. It represents so much growth to me because we’ve seen Beth back-slide into the misshapen family she has with Dean. This really represents to me that, internally, she’s moving forwards and she won’t let herself be held back by Dean.

(Another side-note but I love that Beth affectionately calls Kenny “KB” and that his full name is Kenneth Irving Boland.)

Beth

We talk about it all the time but Beth is veeerrryy good at compartmentalising. We’ve seen it numerous times. With relation to this scene, I love that she clearly feels weird about Turner’s death and that the girls seem to appreciate the possibility that she might be upset over it, as her and Agent Turner did have a weird kind of relationship that she enjoyed sometimes. I think, in her own way, she resented him but also respected his ability to see through her and match her. She definitely really enjoyed the high she got from one-upping him.

Despite this, Beth lays down the flowers and is all about business again. She processes her emotions and moves on and we’ve seen her do that a lot. She did it with Dean in 1x01, when she wrecked his study with a sledgehammer and yanked the pig off of Boland Motors but then went straight back to sorting out financial matters with him and being civil. She resented Mary Pat for extorting them but she seemed to come to terms with how similar they were in season 1. She was tearful over Dean’s cancer diagnosis but she processed it and came up with the idea to launder money through stores. We’ve seen it now with Agent Turner, her processing his death and moving on. I love how perturbed the girls were by Beth’s reaction; they really have clocked on to this side of Beth that they never saw before the events of seasons 1 and 2, how she can’t quite get enough crime and they are maybe now realising that Beth has always exhibited a kind of ruthless pragmatism.

The only person we arguably haven’t seen her do this with is Rio; she’s never been able to process her relationship with him. Following the ‘breakup’ scene in 1x09, she was clearly grieving something and she couldn’t move on like she had with any of her other relationships. Instead, by having him arrested (even if it was only for a short time), she ensured Rio could not turn his back on her.

As I said before, Rio’s shadow hangs over Beth’s arc and Beth’s shadow hangs over Rio’s scenes. Beth continues to learn from what she saw of Rio and she continues to try and emulate him. What I love most of all is that this is rarely successful, compared to what she manages to achieve in this episode by playing on her own, personal strengths, for example the scene where she speaks to the manager and lists all of the community positions she holds. Despite this, she has a lot to learn and she really needs to stop and think sometimes (gosh, I don’t know if she’s ever going to do that haha) before barrelling into a situation. Annie is absolutely right; Beth will never be Rio, no matter how much she tries to think like him or act like him, because they have their own strengths and the world regards them differently.

I do love that she has clearly learnt a couple of things from Rio, such as outsourcing in order to launder the counterfeit cash and, my personal favourite, she’s finally realised that there are consequences for screwing up. In this episode, she teaches Annie a lesson about how, if they continue to be taken advantage of by criminals attempting to renegotiate deals, eventually everyone will know and exploit it. It really reminded me of Rio’s rotten egg lesson in 1x07. Say what you want but these two definitely have some good teaching moments haha.

Don’t even get me started on Beth completely zoning Dean out and thinking about crimeing. She’s just always thinking about crimeing, so much so that she lets her mother-in-law come into her house and belittle her, solely because Judith is cleaning up after the kids and Dean (and ironing Dean’s boxers, eewwwwww); clearly, Beth’s priorities have shifted alot over the timeskip. That scene where she just goes full mum Bethie mode, serving lemonade and walking like an absolute queen to the truck, to get what she wants from the movers. That hair, those big blue eyes, that sweater and that French music! Perfection! AND SHE HAS A CHINESE SYMBOL TATTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! ON HER HIP!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED RIO TO REFER TO THAT AT SOME POINT THIS SEASON!

Ahem. Anyway, my second favourite scene in this episode was the scene between Beth and the mover in her backyard. Gosh, it was amazing. And I loved her blouse. The music, the intensity, the power play, the staring. Oh my god. I have watched it about 100 times already. It was genuinely a stunning scene and both actors killed it.

Dean and Gayle

I think there are two potential ways this is gonna go. Either Dean cheats with Gayle, after attempting to resist the temptation and grounding himself in Beth and their family, or he experiences some attention at work that he doesn’t necessarily appreciate, paralleling the attention he paid his female employees who were in a vulnerable position. Maybe it’ll be both?

Regardless, I think that this arc is really going to further separate Beth and Dean and their respective interests. I mean, so far Beth and Dean’s arcs have been entangled; even in season 2, Dean is drawn into Beth’s crimeing with Rio and the family business he inherited was used to launder money. Now, Beth and Dean have very different and separate storylines with regards to their work. Beth is crimeing and Dean is unaware of what she is up to, as she has absolutely no interest in confiding in him (I mean, she suspiciously asks him why he needs money from her; she clearly doesn’t see him as anything more than just Dean at this point). The only link they seem to share now isn’t the dealership, work or crime. It’s really only their kids. I think we’re going to see their paths diverge further this season, particularly following the kiss (which I think will be in 3x04 based on Beth’s flowery blouse in the released pictures but she’s worn it numerous times before and has already worn it in this episode, so who knows!)

Also, classic Dean paying too much gross attention to a woman’s body, even as a tattoo, making inappropriate comments and judging the movers for being ex-convicts. God, Dean is such a prick.

Ruby and Stan

The scene where Ruby felt that she and Stan were not being seen by the sales assistant was also really important. Gosh, I love how this show incorporates things that are not just relevant today but have always been relevant, you feel me. I also really loved that Stan defended his passivity in this situation with some very legitimate reasons. Fighting for what you believe in is great but it’s also okay to feel exhausted and just want to get something done. I really felt that and I feel like everyone can relate to that on some level.

I know nobody needs to hear me say this again but I’m so scared for Stan this season. Like, Manny has me scared by saying that he’s most excited for Stan’s storyline.

And yesssssss. Ruby confided in Stan. I’m so happy! What a stark contrast from Beth and Dean. These two really are the ideal relationship and couple.

That Ending!

It was basically painful to see Beth following up with Rhea throughout this episode, knowing that Rio had put the pieces together and was gearing up to reveal himself to Beth. I also love how genuine the phone call was between Beth and Rhea and it kind of broke my heart but it really is deserved. Gosh Beth, you are a whole ass mess and you and Rio really deserve eachother.

I have considered how this was going to play out so many times and I have thought of so many different ways it could have happened. We haven’t even seen it all yet but I genuinely think Rio revealing that he’s alive to Beth happened perfectly. I love the way we hear his voice first (just like Beth heard his voice first when she met him in 1x01), the way that the camera keeps Beth in frame and pans to Rio slipping into the chair next to her, not taking his eyes off of her and savouring her reaction. You can just tell that he’s thought about this moment so many times! I’ve said it before but there’s something in the way Rio moves, this kind of elegance and grace that I’ve never really seen before.

Him slipping into that chair is straight up perfection though. To me, it represents all the ways that Rio continues to just casually slip into all the parts of Beth’s life, just like he always has since the beginning of their relationship; it doesn’t even feel like an invasion, if that makes sense. That side shot we get of Beth’s face really captures how wide her eyes become, they’re practically swallowing her face she’s in so much shock.

The ringing in her ears, the way all the noise disappears from the room but we can hear the thunk of the chair as Rio sits in it and the sound of his hands clasping together, everything else becomes unimportant. THE WAY HIS HEAD IS TILTED. HOW MANY FREAKING TIMES HAS HE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS?!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Don’t even get me started on Rio’s extra AF ass kissing the bullets she shot him with as he lays them down in front of her and lists the organs that she injured in the 3x03 promo. We see how close he leans in but doesn’t touch her. I am so curious to see how he leans in and how quickly it happens. The faux gentleness in his eyes and face and voice, referring to her as “his girl”. Where is the lie?! Beth really is his mess to clean up. I am really loving the dimension that is added to their relationship with this. Like, I hate you and I want to kill you and I’m planning to kill you so nobody else can do it. It has to be me. And then when Rio realises that he can’t kill Beth, because of the bombshell she drops, I can’t wait to see that shift into something like I hate you but I guess I have to deal with you and nobody else can touch you.

As for what I think the bombshell will be. Lemme just get this out there. I don’t think it will be pregnancy for so many reasons, which have already been discussed in the fandom. It may have something to do with Beth’s operation, maybe it’s something that she does in 3x03 that we haven’t even seen yet or maybe we just won’t know until we watch the episode lol.

Anyway, I’m super excited for 3x03 and can’t wait discuss it and them speculate on 3x04 afterwards.

[orwocolor]

borhap boys feeling your baby kick for the first time

AN: As always, the rest of the boys are under the cut. Enjoy and don’t forget to comment :)

Gwilym

it is the middle of the night

you are tossing around in your bed, the air in the room too hot and humid for you as the summer heat hasn’t subsided even during nights

you can’t find a comfortable position

you keep turning around; on one side, then the other, then you lie on your back

you huff, a strand of hair that’s been in your face rising up and falling back down into your eyes

you take a sip of water which stands on your bedside table and massage your lower abdomen

you are in the fifth month of pregnancy, and a few weeks ago the doctor finally revealed you the gender of your little baby

you and gwil cried when she informed you that you were going to have a baby girl

now you’re feeling like crying too but for an entirely different reason

it’s so hot and you’re incredibly tired, all you want to do is sleep

you look to your left at the sleeping form of gwil

he must have pushed the light duvet down his body in his sleep, revealing soft short hair on his chest

he is snoring lightly and apart from a gentle rise and fall of his chest, he’s completely motionless, deep in slumber

you envy him, wishing sleep would find its way to you too

you look up at the ceiling, eyes wide open, the exhaustion ruling over your body but not giving you the pleasure of a rest

god, if only you could lie on your stomach; that’s always helped

that’s when you suddenly feel a butterfly feeling in your stomach, followed by a little jab

“gwil,” you whisper and touch his arm, your other hand shooting down to your belly as you sit upright

“gwil!” you shook his arm with more vigour and gwilym shifts in his sleep

“GWIL!”

he sits up quickly and turns to you, looking a bit disoriented

“what is it? what happened? are you alright, love?” his eyes are full of worry and he brushes strands of hair from your face, trying to figure out what’s happening

“gwil, she... she just moved”

first, he stares at you in incomprehension, but once he registers your words, his eyes light up and his look softens as he gently lays his hand right next to yours

“I can’t feel anything” his voice drops at the end

“I swear she did, really, just a moment ago”

you sit together in the bed for a few minutes, not daring to breathe as you wait for your little girl to make her presence known again

gwil strokes your bump gently and whispers sweet nothings to your unborn daughter

you are just about to give it up and go back to your attempts of falling asleep when suddenly, you feel another jab against the wall of your stomach, right underneath gwil’s palm

“y/n! have you felt it?” he beams at you and your expression matches his

“hello, little one, yes, hello” he talks to your belly as he leans down to be closer to your stomach

“oh yes, hello, hello” he’s babbling and your heart soars at that sight

he sits up again, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he kisses you soundly, his hand not leaving your bump as the other strokes your back

“I love you so much, darling, both of you”

“I know, I love you too” you respond between kisses

your tears are running down your cheeks freely, the combination of exhaustion and pure joy getting the better of you, and he kisses your temple

you both lie down eventually, gwil resting his head on your chest as he keeps stroking your belly and kissing it

after a minute you can hear him whisper, “we can’t wait to meet you, sweetie”

it’s still warm in your bedroom and gwilym’s weight on you does not help, but you couldn’t care less, perfectly content in his arms

Joe

“I miss you, honey”

“I miss you too” joe says earnestly on the other end of the phone “I wish you could have come with me”

“you know what the doctor said, it wouldn’t be good for the baby”

the doctor has done several tests and your pregnancy’s been considered high-risk and so you aren’t allowed to travel by plane and couldn’t accompany joe on his visit to his mum

you stroke your belly as you talk to him, leaning back on your bed, the phone in one hand pressed to your ear

“my mum keeps asking about you, so you should probably expect her to call you soon”

you have to laugh as joe talks about his mother

they are very alike even though they would never admit it

both of them fretting about you, constantly making sure that you’re okay

“she thought that you’d come with me, and now she’s worried”

“tell her I’m fine, I’ll call her later myself” you smile, appreciating their concern

“speaking of which, how are you and how’s our little bun?”

you’ve already learned that a simple answer is not enough

joe always wants to hear every teeny tiny detail of your every-day life

you talked last night, so you inform him about your restless night, your breakfast, the fact that you craved strawberries but as soon as you put them into your mouth, you had to spill them out, their taste unpalatable out of nowhere

you tell him about the laundry that you did, emphasising that “no, the basket was not heavy, don’t worry, love, I know, I’m careful”

and your little bun was apparently fine as well, not that you’ve heard any complaints

you and joe decided not to find out the gender of your baby

it was predominantly joe’s wish, but truth be told, you agreed with him

all you wanted to know was that your baby was healthy

“I want to talk to our peanut, can you?” joe asks and there is no need for him to continue in his question, you know where this is going

“of course” you say and turn the speaker on before you place your phone on your belly

you can hear joe greeting your baby and then humming a tune

you’re listening to him as well, smiling gently

since he read about all sorts of important stimuli for unborn children, he considered his duty to either sing or play music to your little one almost every day

you close your eyes and feel like drifting to sleep, lulled by joe’s voice, when the tiniest of kicks grazes your stomach from inside

you gasp loudly and bring your phone back to your ear, interrupting joe’s singing

“joe!” you exclaim “our little one just kicked for the first time!”

“what?!” you can hear him stand up and start pacing as he cannot contain the excitement “that’s amazing, darling! oh my god!”

you rub your belly where the baby’s kicked you and giggle into your phone

“it’s such a weird feeling, but gosh, it’s perfect”

“I’m so happy y/n, I just wish I could be there with you” his voice is suddenly sad and you realise that even though he was on the phone with when it happened, he feels like he has missed an important part of your pregnancy

“oh love” you coo and grip your phone tighter, “you’ll come home soon and then you will feel it for yourself, I promise”

“okay” you think you hear him sniff on the other side but he clears his throat and continues in a more cheerful manner “I guess my singing is not that bad after all”

Ben

you are lying on a couch, your head and feet supported by a few throw pillows as you watch a football match on your telly

you have no idea how it is possible, but ben is squeezed right behind you

you feel huge, massive, with your belly protruding in front of you

and you still have another four and a half months to go

you can’t wait to finally meet your little one

those few final doctor appointments that you’ve gone for proved to be quite a challenge as they tested your patience

your baby has apparently a mind of their own as they have refused to position themself for you to see whether you’ve been expecting a girl or a boy

maybe it’s a sign that you should wait until the birth

but you were dying to meet your baby and any kind of information about them would make it more real

ben watches the game intently, his head propped up with his bent arm so that he can see over your head, and every now and then he yells at the players

then he always apologizes as he realises that he’s screamed right into your ear, and offers a light kiss on your forehead in apology

the position is not exactly comfortable and your stomach is churning a bit which you attribute to last night’s curry

a whimper leaves your lips as you try to roll around slightly to reveal the pain in your legs

“what is it, baby?” ben asks, his concern audible

“my feet, ankles, calves, everything - they’re so swollen” you express your complaints

“okay, let me up” he nudges you slightly and you lean forward to let him sit upright

he moves to the end of the sofa and pulls your legs into his lap

he starts massaging them gently and you cannot help but groan out loud

you shut your eyes, the football match forgotten as the relief washes over your body

the weird feeling in your stomach returns and it feels as if thousands of butterflies decided to settle there

you pay it no attention and just keep enjoying ben’s attention

“how do you feel, baby, is it better?” he asks and strokes your bump with care, not wanting to hurt you

and a tiny kick in your stomach greets him

his eyes widen comically and he lets out a squeal

“y/n!!”

he surges forward, pulls up your t-shirt and places both of his hands on your stomach

he looks up at you and his face lights up as another jab presses against his palm

“yeah! high five!”

you burst in laughter, ben’s being absolutely ridiculous and you love every second of it

ben kisses your belly, leaving a wet trail in his wake

there’s another kick and he laughs as well

“I think we’re gonna have soon a little footballer on our hands”

Rami

thousands and thousands of flashes are blinding you, and journalists keep screaming the name of your love

you’re standing on the red carpet at a premiere of rami’s new film and the said man is holding your hand, providing the mental support you need

you are not exactly a fan of events such as this when it inadvertently puts you in the literal spotlight

of course, the people present are not exactly interested in you but in the man by your side

but rami refuses to leave you for even a few seconds to all the photographers’ dismay, since they want pictures of only him as well

but you are sure there will be something to write about as your pregnancy is pretty apparent by now, the gown you wear not hiding your protruding belly

you’ve opted for a modest dress of light blue colour and rami insisted on wearing a matching bowtie

you think you two are the best-dressed couple, but frankly, you’re probably biased

but truth be told, you’re not feeling your best

your stomach is restless but that’s probably just nerves

you dread that you stumble over your feet and fall down on your face

oh you can see the headlines

“rami! rami!” people keep yelling but neither you nor your husband pays any attention to them, you’re just smiling in the general direction of the crowd in front of you

rami’s assistant comes to you and tells you to move a few feet to pose for the next group of photographers

you follow her, but rami’s costar is still being photographed and so you wait

rami snakes his arms around you and hugs you from behind, his hands lightly resting on your stomach and his chin propped up on your shoulder

“how are you feeling, everything alright?” he whispers to your ear, his fingertips pulling at the fabric of your dress as he lazily grazes the underside of your belly

“yes, everything’s fine, just a bit tired, I guess” you nuzzle your nose to his cheek and plant a tender kiss there

in that exact moment, your little miracle decides to let you know that he’s there as well

the small jab startles you at first

it’s been a few weeks since you started wondering whether you finally could feel your little baby or whether the tiny movements were caused by something else

but now there is no doubt

“did you-”

“yes, yes, I did” rami has tears in his eyes and he can’t stop looking at you

“I love you” he says sincerely and his voice trembles a bit, yet he’s never been more sure of his words

“thank you, my love” he continues and his words are so full of honesty and urgency that it makes you a bit emotional as well

you kiss him and cannot stop the happy laughter that is bubbling up out of you

and even though you’re surrounded by hundreds of people and rami’s assistant is trying to catch your attention and ask you to move forward, this moment is yours and no one else’s