#i live by the beach and i've only gone three times HOW SAD IS THAT
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Christmas is in a 182 days bye.
#like#i want it to cool down because this heat is crazy#but summer is over boohoo#i live by the beach and i've only gone three times HOW SAD IS THAT#a group of australians come over once a year and go to the beach twice as much as i do and have a blast#and i'm here working my ass off and too tired to go#christmas#pirateprincessthoughts [🪐]
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3 and 4 for Roxas in the KH character asks!
3 - Do you like how canon treats them?
HHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGHHHH okay little mindless blond is born and wakes up in A Place and gets pulled into a cult my Mr. "I can Give You Purpose" and doesn't know that you're supposed to open treasure chests and looks up at Mr Fire truck like "okay I found it"
little blond boy hear "we're Nobodies"
"well that's not very nice :/"
little blond boy has One Person be nice to him. feed little blond boy ice cream. little blond boy has pupils in his eyes now. he has friend.
red hair friend die??? gone??? I'm not supposed to have feelings but I'm sad??? kaplewie my other is in a flower pod now I sleep too
new kid? her first word is his name? now he has two friend. thats double the friend. he feed her ice cream. maybe......... they can all have ice cream.......
I wake up why are there seashells on my bed?? :0 friend got then for me??? friend!!
oh. other friend dead. :[ I thought...... we could all have ice cream togethe- :OOOOO YOU'RE ALIVE??!!!!!! FRIEND!! ALIVE!!! WE MUST HAVE ICE CREAM TOGETHER WITH OTHER FRIEND BECAUSE THAT IS HOW I SAY I LOVE YOU!!!!
we're all friends now! I hope it stays this way :]
oh no angst :[ borrow my keyblade!! my friend is so smart and im happy I can help others friend!!
scribble scribble I have a diary
one plot later-
what the fuck. what the fuck is everyone talking about. I'm just trying to live. I'm trying to enjoy what I can, I'm trying to make sense of everything around me and I've only let it all slide for this long because I wanted to focus on the people I care about.
now the person I've defended is being evasive. I don't know what I did wrong. I'm terrified i hurt her.
and the other? the one that showed me what a friend is? the first person to show me compassion? the first to treat me as more than a number? a person I trusted?? has been lying through his teeth to me about our best friend?
I don't know who to trust. I don't Know anything. how is that fair? how?
I don't even know who I am. I have a right. to know who I am. he knows the answer. he's the one person who's supposed to Be there for me, that's what friends Do.
...who am I kidding? where did I think I could go?
I'm leaving. I'm leaving everything I've ever known to try and get some semblance of an answer to Anything.
what a joke.
...
at least... I still have my other friend. even if I've hurt her and she's been avoiding me. I don't know why. I want to make things right. but she offered me our usual. that means... we're at least still going to be there for each other.
at least I still have Someone to trust.
...why are you talking like that?
you don't sound like yourself.
I thought I was confused before.
why are we fighting? why... why is it that even your face isn't the same?
you're so important to me, you're all I have, I...
...
you're hurt. you-... who are you...? why... do I feel like my chest is folding in on itself?
I'm cradling you in my arms as I listen to your dying wish. you're familiar. you feel like home. but I don't know your name.
I'm willing to die, too, if it means getting you back. if it means fulfilling your last wish. because I can't think of any other way to live, I was wrong to cast aside the other that meant so much to me, I want the three of us to go to the beach like we promised, I want to live, i-
why? why, why, why? who's this New person? why are you trying to stop me? can't you see this is all I have?
why should I give everything up when I've lost so much for this stupid boy that's the reason for Everything? all the suffering, the heartache- I'm not even supposed to have a heart.
get out of my way. im pleading through my teeth just-
fuck you. how many times to I have to knock you into the ground? how many times do I have to beat you?
7 days left to go before summer vacation is over! I can't Wait to spend it with the people I care about most. maybe today we'll finally go to the beach! oh, and exploring things in our town we thought were mundane-
...i love my friends. I'm lucky to be happy with my life.
but why do I feel like I'm going crazy? I'm... seeing things other people don't.
who are you? you seem to have some answers. hi! this is weird, do-
what's happened to everything I've loved and adored?
...i was never meant to exist? what the hell is Wrong with you? how could you say that? even if it is true?
what do you mean it's all a lie?
lies, lies, more lies-
I Just Want To Live.
why don't I have that right?
why do I have to give Everything up for this Stupid boy I've never met? that's somehow the reason for all this?
what the hell have I done to deserve this?? I Deserve to Live. what gives any of you the right time take that from me?
...
what Was real?? any of it?? none of it?
look at that face. I guess... he did nothing to deserve whatever's going on, either. and he still has... people who care about him.
not like I can say the same.
not like I have anyone or anything left.
...youre lucky. looks like my summer vacation's over.
4) do you like how fandom treats them?
hehehe sweet baby emo boy 🖤 poor thing :[ emo baby!! 🖤
thanks for the ask!!!! ❤
#kingdom hearts#roxas#358/2 days#kh 358/2 days#asks#im not dissing on fandom btw i talk about him like that too lol#hhhhh woxas#i love him#days made me cry can you tell
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Title: Always There For You
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Older f!reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Genre: Fluff, Sadness, Comfort
Summary: Jungkook is worried about ARMY when he leaves for the military. He hopes when him and the rest of his band mates come back ARMY will be there for them and show that no matter how far apart they are will always be there for them.
Warning: Swearing (maybe?), but other then that just pure sugary fluff.
Notes: Hey everyone! Sorry its taking me so long to post these. I know I was pumping them out like there was no tomorrow, but with the holidays and what not its been getting a bit more harder to do so. I know Yoongi is the last one, but that's just because I've been struggling with the what to write for him. (Should I write a mafia? Fuckboi? Captain of the basket ball team? There just so many ideas...)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one as it pulled at my heart writing it. I am taking requests so if you have any ideas fill free to send them my way! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday break and a merry Christmas! I hope the New Year brings you good luck and fortune as well! Stay safe and stay warm for the holidays if you live where it snows and stay safe and stay cool for those in the area of heat. I'll talk to you guys and gals later! ~ Ash
Your phone glared angrily at you as you saw someone was calling you. The room dark as you don’t remember what time you had gone to bed, but now you were well rested and a bit upset that someone had woken you. The clock on your phone reading a bit after three in the morning as Jeon Jungkook was calling you and the only time he ever called you this late was because something was wrong. The young man shaking as when you answered you sounded tired, almost annoyed as yes it was late in the night, but you had told him prior that if he ever needed you to call, text, whatever he needed as you cared for him. He was like a little brother to you. The whole BTS group was family to you.
“Y/n-Noona, can we meet up? I need to talk to you and I really don’t want to talk about it over the phone…” Jungkook asked as he sounded like he had been crying.
“Yeah, of course, where do you want to meet?” You asked, cursing softly that you had to get out of bed, but as you stated before you would do anything for him, anything for the others.
“Do you think we can meet up by the ocean this time? Maybe at the place we talked last time it was this bad?” Jungkook asked as you knew this conversation was going to be a long one if he was suggesting it.
“Yeah, let me wake up a bit more and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over. Is everything okay? Are you sure you just don’t want to talk about it over the phone?” Worry was dripping from your voice as you heard some noises on the other end of the phone and then a sigh.
“I just need to clear my head and you were the first person I could think of… can we talk when we meet? I don’t want the others to hear about it and worry them as well…” Jungkook said as it was your turn to sigh.
“Yeah, Kookie, we can talk once we get to the beach. I’ll see you in a few.”
“Thank you… see you soon Noona.” And the phone went dead. Your body laying on your mattress as whatever was bothering Kook was bothering him badly.
When you got to the beach, it was now clear after four am and the sky above you was dark, dark like ink if you had to pick a color. The clouds that you could see were thin, almost sad looking as you didn’t know what to think of this situation, but knew you couldn’t wait to get back in bed as it was freezing out. The sound of the ocean waves just crashing against the shoreline lulling you to sleep as when there was a tap on your window you jumped nearly glaring as you saw Jungkook’s doe like eyes staring at you.
“Sorry, Noona, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can I come in?”
You nodded your head as you unlocked your car not seeing his anywhere and nearly questioned him if he had walked his way here or had someone dropped him off. The tear stains on his cheeks looked fresh as you could tell he was crying, but hearing the low sob in his voice from early nearly made you want to cry as you hated seeing any of the members hurt. His body making his way around the car, opened the door as he got in, feeling a slight breeze in the December air, as he sat down and closed the door behind him. His eyes looking out at the dark waters as you waited for him to speak first. You didn’t want to push him on his issues, but you also wanted to know what was wrong because of how late it was.
“We leave in a few days,” Jungkook said as he was still staring out into the dark waters, “Rm, Jimin, V, and myself. We all leave on the 12th of December and already I feel sick to my stomach. Sick and wanting to stay with you and ARMY, but I know it's our duty to go and go we must.”
You nodded not wanting to speak or spook the youngest member, but understood that this was something all if not most Korean men had to do. You remember your brother and his friend doing it. The long years you had to wait for him to return and the tears you shed because you were close to your brother hoping, no praying, he would come home soon because you didn’t want to be apart. You and your brother were attached at the hip and knew that those years apart would feel different. He was different. So you hoped when BTS came back they would never change, but mature into the bright men you knew they were.
“Jimin and I are lucky though. We enlisted through the buddy system so we at least get to be together. We also get to be with Jin-hyung as well so that’s sort of a relief even though he was sent to a harder division than the rest of them, but that’s okay we can do this. We believe in ourselves along with ARMY believing in us.”
You nodded again wondering why he was having you here at such a late hour as this all seemed to be something he could have said over the phone while you laid comfortable on your mattress, but heard the slight sniffle and knew he just wanted to be held while he talked to the air around you. You told him to come on as you finally broke the silence that sat between the two of you and motioned for him and you to sit in the back so he could at least lay down in your lap and try to relax. The tired teary eyes caused such pain as he nodded, getting out of the car and going back in as his head laid against your thigh and your hand rested in what little hair that was left. You remember him telling you he was going to cut it short each time you saw him just so you, ARMY, and him could get use to the short hair. Use to him not having such long luscious locks and that it would be short to the point of shaving when the time of him and the others had to leave. His hair currently about an inch as he cut it the other day when he stopped by hoping that when he did his music video with Usher that ARMY would understand the time was close and that he and the others would be leaving very soon. Four days to be exact and honestly it hurt just thinking about it then.
“Do you think ARMY will be back when we return? Do you think they will miss us and hope well on us?” Jungkook questioned you a few moments later after you and him had moved to the back of your car.
“I would think so. I would think they would support you and the others like they did for Jin, J-Hope, and Suga.”
“Do you think ARMY will like what we have for them while they wait? All the videos and music we shared up until now and to the future?”
You looked down at the doe eyed man and smiled, “Of course ARMY will like what you seven had prepared and given them. If they didn’t they wouldn’t be true ARMY members then. They love you Kookie and so do I. We will wait until you guys return and will celebrate your guys’ victory when you come home. You guys will do amazing. We are so proud of you and the others.These next 18 months will fly by. I promise.” You said as Jungkook looked at you and then nodded. Your heart was racing as this was sorta the first time you had told him you loved him even though it was more of a family love then a friend love. You had known the BTS boys for quite some time. It was just recently you had started telling them you loved them and hoped if they ever questioned it, wouldn’t get hurt because you saw them as a second family then more.
“I always worry that ARMY will be sad when we leave and that they will find others to search for comfort and never return. I know they have other idols they enjoy, but ARMY has been with us for such a long time that thinking about it just hurts knowing they could leave once we do and never return.”
You nodded your head, carding your fingers through his black hair as you spoke, “If they leave and not come back then they were never true ARMY in the first place. People are allowed to search for comfort in other people, but know that when you return, Kook, you and the others will be different as ARMY will be different. They will have stories to share and secrets to keep. You worry now, it will only cause you and the others to get sick. We will be fine, love, trust me. ARMY is so proud of you and the others that they can not wait for you to return healthy and strong. We are ARMY, we know how to take care of ourselves.”
Jungkook cracked a smile first that night, “You consider yourself a part of the ARMY group? How cute.” he said as you felt your cheeks redden.
“Why not? I’ve been a part of the group way before we became friends and honestly if it wasn’t for me I don’t think you would have survived this long with all the fangirls screaming at you. I remember your first fan meet. You were so scared you nearly ran away because they were all screaming at you at how cute you were. You looked so innocent back then.”
Jungkook looked at you with such a playful glare that you laughed making him smile more, “Yeah, well, even if you are apart of the ARMY there are plenty of me to go around, so don’t get jealous if one of the other ARMY members catch my eye and I end up dating them instead of you.”
You gagged, “You're more like a little brother to me, Kook, don’t think of me different than family.” you retorted back as he sat up and looked at you with such evil eyes.
“Is that so? Should we go down memory lane?”
You arched a brow, “What memory are we talking about? Drunk ones or sober ones? We share a lot of memories together.”
“How about the night you kissed me? The night you shared all your darkest sec-” Before he could even finish that sentence you covered his mouth with his hand and shook your head furiously.
“We don’t talk about that night. That night is off limits and you know it Jeon… We were both drunk and you know it.” You said as the memory flashed through your mind as you hoped he would drop the thought then and there.
“I’m gonna miss this…” Jungkook said, staring back out the window listening to the sound of the waves coming and going, “I’m gonna miss nights like these where I can be myself around you and not have to put up a front. I know you say we're like family, but having a sister around is really nice.”
You blushed, “Is that so? Why is that?” you asked as you decided to turn your body towards him and lean your back against the door/window.
“Because growing up I didn’t have any. Sure I had female friends in school, but having you around, Noona, it's relaxing. I can honestly come to you with my issues and just everything feels great. It feels normal.” Jungkook said as he mirrored your stans.
“Well, I’m glad you feel comfortable around me, Kook, I honestly wouldn’t want you or the others feeling uncomfortable when I’m around and to be honest it's nice having someone younger around that isn’t a pain in my ass.” You laugh as Jungkook leaned over and gave you a playful slap.
“Hey, your younger brother is amazing to be around. Plus your older brother is really cool and he actually gives great girl advice.” Jungkook said as you gasp, feeling a little hurt.
“I thought we had something Kook. I thought I was going to be the one you gossiped to girls about, not my brother!” You were devastated, or well playfully devastated as you didn’t really mean to get hurt over something so small. You knew Kook like the back of your hand and knew if honestly anything was bothering him he would tell you like tonight. He was worried about everything happening while he and the other six were gone. It was a scary thought, but ARMY had each other and there was nothing stopping that.
“On a more serious note, I’m sure ARMY and everyone else is going to be okay while you guys are gone. They have each other and all the amazing memories you all share and have yet to share. They will be so excited when you and the rest of the guys come back. Plus they have me.” you smiled as you were kinda the one that posted updates without them really knowing, but knew as most of them followed you on instagram, “They have a safe outlet and I promise you the true ARMY fans will be here when you return. ARMY loves you guys and will always love you.”
Jungkook smiled as he looked out the window and then back at you, “Thanks y/n, that means a lot to me.”
“Of course, it's what I’m here for.” you said as you saw the time and didn’t realize it was almost seven am. You guys had been sitting here for a few hours talking that honestly it didn’t feel long and that you could have gone further if it wasn’t for the fact that you had things to do.
“Should I take you home? Or should I drop you off at your car?” You asked as you still didn’t know where he parked his car if he did drive himself here.
Jungkook blushed, “Mind dropping me off? I walked all the way here or was already sort of walking when I called you earlier. Didn’t want to stop as my feet just kinda kept me going.”
You nodded your head, “Of course Kook, you know I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”
Jungkook smiled as you both made your way to the front seat buckling up and getting on the road towards Jungkook's house. His smile was still pretty big as he leaned over and gave you a soft peck on the cheek, “Thanks Noona, truly, this helped clear up a lot.”
You smiled back blushing, “Yeah, no problem. I’m happy I could help!”
#bts#bts x f!reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x reader#bts army#bts jeon jungkook#bts jeon jungkook x reader#bts jeon jungkook x f!reader#bts jeon jungkook x y/n#bts jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x f!reader#jeon jungkook x y/n
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The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff
chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six
author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x
Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.
I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.
My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?
The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.
"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."
We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.
"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.
Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.
It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.
"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."
The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.
At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.
"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.
She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."
I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.
"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."
A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.
"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."
Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.
"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."
"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"
"Wow, that's young," I realised.
She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."
I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.
"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."
I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."
She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.
"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."
A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."
I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."
She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.
"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."
"Gee, thanks."
Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.
—
When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.
I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.
We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.
Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.
"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.
I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"
"In Russian," she instructed.
"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."
"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"
"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."
"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."
My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.
"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.
I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.
"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.
"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."
I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."
She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.
It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.
By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.
I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.
"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.
She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."
I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"
Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."
Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.
"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."
A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.
"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."
She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"
My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.
—
"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.
She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"
I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"
"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.
"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."
She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"
I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."
She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."
I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."
After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.
"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."
"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."
She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.
Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.
When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.
Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.
Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.
So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.
"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."
I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."
She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.
Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."
She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.
"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.
Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."
Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"
It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."
Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.
"It was you."
I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"
She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."
My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.
"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."
She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.
My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.
Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.
"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.
She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."
My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.
"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.
"What?"
She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"
Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.
I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."
She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.
"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.
Wanda felt right.
—
When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.
Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.
Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.
The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.
"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.
I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."
My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."
"Mhm."
"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."
I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."
"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."
Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.
"Me, too."
#wanda maximoff au#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen imagine#elizabeth olsen#marvel#marvel imagine
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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 3
Percy's POV
Confession time: I ditch Grover as soon as we get to the bus terminal.
I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover is kinda freaking me out, looking at me like I am a dead man, muttering, "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be the sixth grade?"
Whenever he gets upset, Grover's bladder acts up, so I'm not surprised when, as soon as we get off the bus, he makes me promise to wait for him, then makes a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I get my suitcase, slip outside, and catch the first taxi uptown.
"East One-hundred-and-forth and First," I tell the driver.
A word about my mother, before you meet her.
Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.
The only good break she ever got was meeting mine and (Y/n)'s dad.
We didn't have any memories of him, just this warm sort of glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. Our mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad; she has no pictures.
See, they weren't married. She told us he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.
Lost at sea, my mom had told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.
She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me and my twin on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.
Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.
Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along...well, when I came home is a good example.
I walk into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN. Chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.
Hardly looking, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."
"Where's Mom and (Y/n)?" I wonder aloud.
"Your mom's working," he says. "You got any cash?"
That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?
"I don't have any cash," I toll him.
"Here," comes a voice, holding out a ten to the man.
Instantly, a smile sneaks its way onto my face.
"Hey, Perc," my twin sister says with a smile.
(Y/n)'s POV
I grab my brother's suitcase and carry it into his room; I set it down on the bed.
"You wanna come sit in my room?" I ask and Percy nods, a smile still on his face.
I lead the way to my room and when I open the door, Percy sinks into my desk chair.
"Percy?" comes our mom's voice.
She opens my bedroom door.
Our mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Percy or Gabe.
"Oh, Percy," she hugs her son tightly. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas.
Percy's POV
Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.
We sit together on the edge of (Y/n)'s bed. While I attack the blueberry sour strings, (Y/n) stealing a few pieces of candy from the bag, Mom runs her hand through my hair and demands to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She doesn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right? The whole time, (Y/n)'s eyes were sparkling with amusement.
I tell Mom she is smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her and (Y/n).
From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?"
I grit my teeth.
My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.
For her sake, I try to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I tell her I'm not too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convince myself. I start choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly doesn't seem so bad.
Until that trip to the museum...
"What?" my mom asks. Her and my sister's eyes tug at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"
"No, Mom."
I feel back for lying. I want to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I think it'd sound stupid.
Mom purses her lips. Both she and (Y/n) could tell I was holding back, but neither push me.
(Y/n)'s POV
"I have a surprise for both of you," Mom says. "We're going to the beach."
Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"
"Three nights - same cabin."
"When?" I ask excitedly.
Mom smiles. "As soon as I get changed."
I can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.
Gabe appears in my doorway and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"
"I've got it," I offer, rising from the bed and walking out into the kitchen to make the dip for Mom.
An hour later, we are ready to leave.
Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch me and Percy lug Mom's bags to the car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her cooking - and most importantly, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.
"Not a scratch on this car, you two," he warns us as I load the last bag. "Not one little scratch."
Like we'd be the ones driving. We're twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame us.
We get into the Camero, me in the passenger's seat, and Percy in the back.
Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of the Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half-sunken into the dunes. There is always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.
Percy and I love the place.
We'd been going there since Percy and I were babies. Our mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place she'd met mine and Percy's dad.
As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turning the color of the sea.
We arrive at the cabin, open all the cabin windows, and go through our usual cleaning routine. We walk on the beach, feed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and much on jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.
I guess I should explain the blue food.
See, Gabe had once told Mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a small thing at the time. But ever since, Mom had gone out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - alone with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like Percy.
When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells us stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write when she gets enough money to quit the candy shop.
Finally, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what was always on our minds when we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure that she was going to tell us the same things she always said, but neither Percy and I ever got tired of hearing them.
"He was kind, Percy," Mom says. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, two. You have his black hair, you know, Percy, and you both have his green eyes."
Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy, (Y/n). He would be so proud."
Percy's POV
I wondered how she could say that. What's so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of the school for the sixth time in six years.
"How old were we?" I ask. "I mean . . . when he left?"
Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."
"But...he knew us as a baby."
"No, honey. He knew I was expecting twins, but he never saw you two. He had to leave before you were born."
I try to square that with the fact I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.
(Y/n) and I had always assumed that he had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, we'd always felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .
I realize I feel angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom. He'd left us, and now we are stuck with Smelly Gable.
"Are you sending me away again?" I ask her. "To another boarding school."
She pulls a marshmallow from the fire.
"I don't know, honey." Mom's voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."
"Because you don't want me around?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. (Y/n) bows her head, looking at the ground and Mom's eyes well with tears.
Mom takes my hand and squeezes it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."
Her words remind me of what Mr. Brunner had said - that it was best for me to leave Yancy.
"Because I'm not normal," I say.
"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe.
"Safe from what?"
She meets my eyes, and a flood of memories comes back to me - all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me and (Y/n), some of which we'd tried to forget.
During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked us on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed (Y/n) when she'd told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.
Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.
In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.
I know I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I can't make myself tell her. I have a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I don't want that.
"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom says. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just...I just can't stand to do it."
(Y/n)'s POV
"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask, a little confused.
"Not a school," she says softly. "A summer camp."
My head starts spinning. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me and Percy be born - talk about a summer camp?
"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."
"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp.
Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression that if either of us ask her any more questions, she would start to cry.
I have a weird, vivid dream. It is storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse, and a golden eagle are trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swoops down and slashes the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse rears up and kicks at the eagle's wings. As they fight, the ground rumbles and a monstrous voice chuckles somewhere and beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.
I run towards them, knowing I have to stop them from killing each other, but I am running in slow motion. I know I am too late. I see the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I scream, No!
I wake with a start.
Outside, it really is storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There is no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.
With the next thunderclap, my mom and Percy wake. Mom sits up, eyes wide, and says, "Hurricane."
I know that's crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seems to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I hear a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that makes my hair stand on end.
Percy's POV
Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice - someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.
My mother springs out of bed in her nightgown and throws open the lock.
Grover stands framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he isn't . . . he isn't exactly Grover.
"Searching all night," he gasps. "What were you thinking?"
My mother looks at me in terror - not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.
"Percy," she says, having to shout to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"
I am frozen, looking at Grover. I can't understand what I'm seeing, and I see (Y/n) looking at my friend.
"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yells. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"
I am too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I am too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover doesn't have pants on - and where his legs should be . . . where his legs should be . . .
Mom looks at me sternly and talks in a tone she'd never used before, and (Y/n) flinches: "Percy. Tell me now!"
I stammer something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stares at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.
She grabs her purse, tosses me and (Y/n) our rain jackets, and says, "Get the car. All three of you. Go!"
Grover runs for the Camero - but he isn't running, exactly. He is trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs makes sense to me. I understand how he can run so fast and still limp when he walks.
Because where his feet should be, there are no feet. There are cloven hooves.
Word Count: 3041 words
#percy jackson x sister reader#percy jackson and the olympians reader insert#female reader#fem reader#reader insert
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Another chapter with my favourite ship. But maybe I should wreck it?
HEIR OF TALON 3
Warnings: explicit/underage
Summary:
Garret and Ember spend a day together trying to have fun.
Boy of summer
Garret
I woke up aroused and confused entangled in Ember's warm body. She was asleep, with her thigh carelessly thrown across my hips, her arm resting on my chest with the palm over my rapidly beating heart. I laid motionless for a while enjoying the touch of our bodies, feeling her breath on my neck and wishing that we could stay like this forever. But how could we with all the work awaiting us? This was not a good life for a young girl. Not that I knew much about it, yet still I could see her fading away, every time I saw her she was less lively, less herself and more tired, sad or angry. She insisted that this was what she wanted, that this was important to her. But the Order was less and less important to me. With each group of survivors emerging I could see, that the Order of St George was founded on values, that I could no longer share or excuse. I only continued as their commander to ensure, that the Order will not bounce right back and attack the dragons. But maybe being away in order to protect Ember from a change of hearts in the Order I was failing her in other ways, that were just as important. There, bleak thoughts chased away excitement and pleasure. I needed to get up and get active to clear my head.
I tried gently to wriggle free of Ember's limbs when she tensed and a pair of green eyes snapped open pinning me with intense gaze. The tension and expression melted away almost immediately and she smiled lazily. "Good morning commander" she said raising on one elbow to gaze down at me. Her fingertips slowly traced irregular patterns on the bare skin of my chest sending sweet thrills into my stomach. She pouted her lips and my thoughts strayed to another time, when she was touching me like that, a cargo bed in a clearing in some forgotten end of woods. I wanted her so much, I gathered her closer to my chest with my one arm. "Good morning ma'am, any special wishes for your humble servant?" She giggled and patted me mockingly. "Don't! Think if somebody hears us now? That would ruin the alliance. They would think I have you in thrall." She teased. "Maybe you do?" I said solemnly. "I do what?" She asked. "Have me in thrall. Because I feel that I would do anything for you without giving it a second thought". I looked deep into her eyes letting the joke and the truth sink in. Ember smiled and kissed me, pressing her body closer to mine. I ran my hand down her back and ass and felt heat kindling again in the pit of my stomach. She felt my cock pressing at her thigh and purred with delight before she straddled me grinding her breasts and belly against my upper body. I held her and kissed her, tasting her tongue and breath. I wanted her, my loins were on fire aching with desire and she was right there on top of me, warm and eager. I wanted her to burn me again, if she must. I just needed to be as close as possible. Some part of me seemed melting and running into her already. I felt my heart burning for her when my hands slipped under her t-shirt and stroked her back and sides of her breast, that were pressed tightly against me. I gripped her ass with my other hand. We needed to get her out of these clothes. I peered into Ember's eyes to tell her that and my voice caught in my throat. I could feel blood chilling in my veins. The impression was there and gone but I suddenly felt strange premonition and a thought crossed my mind, that she could just as well be on another planet the way things were. As if some illusion got dispelled by whatever I found on the bottom of the smiling green eyes. So I took her face in both my hands, kissed her briefly and asked. "What do you want to do today?"
"How about nothing?" She said. "I should probably go to my office and grant a ratification of Viper's agreement." She mused, her forehead creasing. "What are you going to do?" She asked. "I'm taking a day off to maintain my dragon girlfriend" I said smiling. "She can literally breath fire and bite my head off and I've been rather neglecting her lately..." Ember smiled happily and kissed me. "Deal. I cannot believe it is the soldier who talks me into skipping work!" She laughed. I rolled to the side making her to lay down beside me and kissing her. We kissed and touched for some time and it was great even though some of the strangely unpleasant feeling lingered in my chest. At last Ember declared herself famished and we decided to leave the bed and seek some breakfast.
*****
I walked towards the waterline with my newly bought and waxed surfing board. Ember let herself woo into buying a new high-tech board that doesn't require waxing by the attendant at the surfing shop and course centre by the beach. Then she proceeded to huff and puff and roll her eyes when I waxed mine with the attendant giving me tips and talking about how fine the weather was for surfing. When I was finished she ran towards the water and now waited for me in shallows beckoning for me to hurry. "Come on Garret! What is it? Are you regretting our bet?" She grinned. I said nothing watching distant surf ahead. "Don't worry, I'll treat you kindly when you lose." "How generous of you." I answered and started deeper into the water. I was exhilarated I could almost feel the vastness of the ocean surrounding me, the freedom calling to me. I looked at Ember and could see, that she had the same revelation. She was grinning madly with her eyes shining, there was nothing left of the exhausted girl in crumpled suit from yesterday. She might be CEO of Talon but she looked more like an overworked intern. It was quite a swim to reach the swells, but neither of us complained. Finally we were there and the wave was coming. Ember's attention focused completely on getting ready to catch it, so I decided to strike back. "How much money?!" I shouted. "What?" She seemed confused her eyes still focused on incoming swells. "How much money you bet on me being pounded more than you?!" "Million dollars soldier boy, you are going down!" She shouted and made to stand up anytime. "I cannot match that!" I teased her. "Million dollars against a daim!" She grinned madly and tried to stand up. I followed her suit and after wobbling a bit went tumbling off into turquoise waters. When I emerged and got water out of my eyes I saw Ember already recovering her board visibly enjoying herself.
Her enjoyment was somewhat diminished when, after three more approaches, where we both got wiped out, I managed to catch the wave and ride it without falling. The experience was almost overwhelming, after months of running, fighting and then managing what was left of the Order, I have almost forgotten, what it is like to do something for the sheer feeling of it. Three more rides and Ember was scowling, she fell off every time and finally, I could not enjoy this anymore. "Let's call it a day!" I shouted to her. "No! You don't get to win this easily!" She seemed close to tears and I could not stand the thought, that I have somehow caused this. I could not remember Ember being such a sour loser. I waded all the way to her and hugged her tightly. "Ember, it's not fun anymore. Let's go and get something to eat." Food managed to lift her spirits nine out of ten times. She looked at me as if she was about to say something nasty, but then she seemed to relax.
We got out of water, changed into dry clothes and drove to a steak house not far away. Over a steak that could cover her whole upper body Ember seemed to cheer up a bit. I watched amazed as the enormous piece of meat disappeared fast in this slip of a girl. It was fascinating, how could I ever have missed this ravenous appetite?
"Go on. Mock me. I deserve it." She said. "Come on Ember, can't we let it go? Or maybe agree on best out of three..." I did not care a bit about this wager, and it definitely was not worth Ember's discomfort for me. "No! I've lost miserably and now have to explain to Archivist, why exactly we have to transfer one million dollars to you." I was dumbstruck. "Don't even think about it! I wouldn't accept it. I didn't mean it seriously." She must have hit her head. "A bet is a bet. You might not have meant it, but I did." She said. "Why? Why would you want to bet a million to a daim on anything?". I was incredulous. "Because I was sure I'd win? Because I have all this millions and apparently can't use them on anything that would bring me joy..." Ember was tearing up again, it pained me to see her so fragile, she was definitely not well. I stood up and slipped into our booth on her side of the table. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to my chest. "I don't want your money Ember. I love you. I want you to be happy. I know you feel that changing Talon is your responsibility, but maybe someone else could help to administrate the changes?" She looked at me doubtfully. "If you have that much money, maybe pay uncle Liam and aunt Sarah to take care of you in Crescent Beach until you turn eighteen? You could surf every day after school with Lexi and Calvin." I stopped seeing her gaping at me. Then she started to laugh, somewhat joyless, until it turned into sobs and she was weeping and I had no idea what to do other than to hold her.
At last she came to herself. "Oh Garret, how wonderful this would be. But it's impossible." "Why? Why is it impossible Ember? I am sick of the Order. They are adults, let them clean their own mess. We need to do other things in our lives than their bidding. Isn't that why you've rebelled in the first place?" She watched me in silence. "I would gladly leave the Order. Even if that meant I'd have to go to school and work at a gas station. If it meant that I could be with you." I stopped having said all I had to say.
"Oh my! Garret, you truly mean it?!" She said at last. Then she looked very conflicted. "They will never let us go Garret. I don't know if I can live a normal life. This is too much!" But I could feel that she was considering it, so I said. "You don't have to decide right now. Just think about it. I want very much to be with you. Even if you stay in Talon. I could be your bodyguard." Finally Ember's gaze softened. "You would do that for me? Leave the Order?" She said. "I already did. Something just got messed up underway and we ended up exactly, where we started." I said. I have been thinking a lot about our current situation and with each day, when I was away from Ember, fighting Order's battles in a war where there was neither honour nor fortune for me to win, I saw clearer how life was slipping through my fingers. It was possible that it would take more than human lifetime to change the Order and Talon. And even though I was granted extended life by Riley I felt, that this time would be wasted just as well. We would not be as we are, to move on, once the process is advanced enough to let it continue on its own. Ember was already changed beyond recognition after mere months of this life. I caught myself more and more often at hating the Order of St George and Talon and all the mess I was handling on the behalf of both. We had a choice. We've made this choice once, we could make it again. So I put my arms tightly around her and said. "I want to be with you Ember. You've told me, I can live for centuries. But my mind and heart are still human. I miss you. I feel I'm wasting my life being away and struggling to keep control of an organisation, that I'd rather leave. We could be together. I would take care of you while you're taking care of your business." Ember twisted in my embrace putting her arms around my waist and pressed her face to my chest, hugging me tightly. I held her feeling once again the rightness of this, this was where I was supposed to be. This was what I should be doing. At last she looked up at me with shining eyes. "I want that Garret. I miss you too. And Talon can be too much. But I'm afraid that if I just cash out few millions and leave, I'll wake up surrounded by Vipers some time soon. Talon must be at least partially dismantled before it's safe to leave it alone." She started frowning her look vacant. "Then let us work towards this together." I said. "Okay, let's do this together." She said calm now.
I moved back to sit in front of my cold food. Fortunately I have eaten enough before Ember started crying. We ordered waffles with softice for dessert and headed for Ember's apartment. In the car Ember spoke suddenly. "I think I'll give you the million anyways... don't protest. You don't have to use it if you don't want it. Think about it as something you're keeping safe for me, should I ever need it. Like an emergency trust found." It did not sit well with me. "Only if you consider my offer." I answered. "About Crescent Beach." "Deal, I'll think about it." She answered a bit too smugly. We drove back to city listening to old rock songs playing from the radio. Sun was slowly setting and the world was cast in this unreal light, that made it look like a place from a fairytale, like anything was possible.
***
We tumbled onto Ember's white sofa right after entering the apartment. Any weariness from being pounded and peddling for hours left me instantly. Ember pulled off her t-shirt and I cupped her warm soft breast in my hand feeling her heart beating wildly inside it. I bent to kiss it, tasting her skin and hard pointy nipple when my phone rang.
Only two people had this number, it was only to be used in case of emergency. "Ember it's emergency number." I said apologetically and fished the phone from my pants. It was Tristan. It could wait. I put it on silent and moved to lay between Ember's legs again when she braced her hand on my chest. "If it's an emergency shouldn't you check it?" She asked. I should but I don't want to. I thought, and aloud I said. "It's Tristan, he probably wants to know when I will be back." "Still you should check." She said pulling on her t-shirt and pressing her knees together leaving me with few other options. I groaned with disappointment and nestled in another corner of the sofa.
"What is it?" My voice was raspy and my tone was slightly impatient. I cleared my throat. "Have I interrupted something commander?!" Tristan sounded uncharacteristically sour. "Yes, get to the point." I was sure my discomfort could match whatever he felt. "An hour ago commander Knight, six of his people and his wife and daughter arrived. He claims to be commander of some southern chapterhouse, that I have never heard about. He says they're top secret intelligence team. Anyways he's already questioning alliance with dragons, threatening us all with persecution for treason and claiming command over Western Chapterhouse including you and me. So you better get here before he executes someone commander." Shit. Apparently I could not catch a break either.
I quickly reported news to Ember. "You should go right away Garret." She said solemnly. "This sounds serious and dangerous.... for our plans. You and Tristan are the only people inside the Order of St George, that I can trust. We can't risk you getting sidelined by some conservative bloodthirsty commander." As more and more blood circulated in my body I could see her point and had a few of my own to add, but I hated leaving her like that. "I don't want to leave you." I said. "You are not leaving me. You go away to make preparations for our escape." She gave me a brave smile and I kissed her hungrily, letting my hands roam her body, trying commit to memory as much of her as possible, the touch of soft warm skin, the taste of her lips, scent of her hair. I was about to suggest we wait with it till the morning, when she pulled away. "Go Garret. Call me when you know more. I'll help you any way I can, remember." She kissed me again. "I love you Garret. Even though I can't surf anymore." She added and followed me to the doors where she kissed me once more and stood watching, when I waited for the elevator.
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Hello and this is me annotating/doing director's commentary for the last chapter of Crowd as a victory lap. There's no indulgence like self-indulgence.
“I’ll just make my hot young boyfriend help me,” Robin teases. “When I’m eighty, you’ll only be sixty-nine.”
I love to take a thing from the beginning of a story/scene and revisit it at the end. In this case, 'hot young boyfriend' is a light callback to 'sexy-ass, significantly younger boyfriend' back at the beginning when Robin was sad about the empty nest situation. This is, I think, the first time we specify their exact age gap. It is also the exact age gap I have with my own partner, because I’m very lazy like that. (None of this was written with any reference to what's gone on in the podcast over the last year or so, which is good because it sounds like the whole aging thing for Glenn could have gotten really confusing. Wrightiverse Glenn came back right after Ravenloft, none of that other stuff happened to him. It's all good. Canon is optional.) * * * * *
It’s not like the men in his family have much luck in that area, anyway; Glenn never met either of his grandfathers, and Bill didn’t make it much past fifty.
I think Meryl actually lived for hundreds of years and is still alive in Faerun and they should totally meet, but Glenn doesn’t know all that. * * * * *
Aesthetics aside, it didn't seem like there was much for Glenn to look forward to in middle age and beyond. Nick would grow up and wouldn’t need his dad anymore, and Glenn would be all alone.
From Glenn’s second chapter in Crowd, when Robin is sad about Connor leaving for college:
“I want him to be independent,” Robin is trying to explain into Glenn’s knee, “but also I don’t want to be all alone.” Glenn flicks his ear reproachfully. “You're not all alone. I’m right here, dumbass.”
Sometimes what seems obvious when we're explaining it to somebody else doesn't feel as obvious when it's our turn. Admittedly, Glenn is coming to this with a different set of experiences than Robin is. More on that later. * * * * *
His career would go to shit, because getting old only works for rock stars if they’re actually bluesmen in disguise, like Keith Richards.
I think I got this theory from something Chuck Klosterman wrote, probably Fargo Rock City. * * * * *
He starts his grounding exercise without even thinking about it. Five things he can see: one, an information sign for the city park. Two, a freshly-painted bike rack. Three, some big public art sculpture that looks like a giant rusty hairbrush…
This particular grounding exercise came up earlier in Crowd. I didn't make it up for the story, it's real and many people find that it works well. Feel free to try it! The exercise he alludes to when they’re on the beach, creating ‘safe spaces’ out of vivid memories with lots of sensory details, is also based on a real thing. Lauren, his therapist, is named after the therapist who worked with me on my own PTSD and taught me that and a lot of other good stuff. At least based on my own experience, I can highly recommend EMDR if you can find a good practitioner. * * * * *
It was a hella sweet gesture from the kid.
Connor’s introduction in Name has to do with him carrying shirts past Glenn, and one of those shirts becomes important later to Robin. Given how big the GC3 actually seems to be, I don’t think Connor did the majority of their merch. I assume they used a regular printer and Connor just did small runs of fun custom stuff when he feels like it, meaning not much changed after Glenn quit. * * * * *
Of course, Robin is the only member of the family wearing the shirt right now, because Robin is the only one who doesn’t care that it isn’t cool to wear merch from the gig at the gig itself.
I have no idea how widespread the ‘no wearing merch from the gig at the gig’ thing is, but that’s the rule I learned. * * * * *
Robin is chatting away about something, but it’s hard to follow with all the noise and distraction around them. Glenn decides to let it ride, and allows himself to zone out and just watch Robin talk.
As requested by my brilliant co-author, this is a callback to when Robin spaces out watching Glenn talk on their first date. Both Robin and Glenn are consistently very prone to tuning out when the other one is talking, but neither of them particularly care. As Glenn says on their dinner date - sometimes a man just wants to think out loud for a while and get a ‘hell yeah’ in response. * * * * *
It's vastly unfair that Robin looks so good in direct sunlight, but he probably pulls it off because he's the one person in Los Angeles who isn't trying to look younger than he actually is.
Glenn should spend less time in WeHo. * * * * *
There’s already more gray in Robin’s hair than when they met, although Glenn will only accept partial blame for that. Either way, the old man’s on track to be a full-on silver fox before he even hits fifty.
It felt necessary to drop a reminder that despite how Glenn talks about him, Robin is not actually that damn old. I mean, I'm sure that sounds very old to some of you, but when you're in your mid-to-late 30s like Glenn, somebody in their late 40s is not unreasonably decrepit. I think it has more to do with their respective energies than actual birthdays. * * * * *
“What is it?” Robin has noticed Glenn’s gaze, and he touches his own face to check if there's something on it.
Glenn grins. "Nothing, just ogling."
This is another callback to their first date:
“Do I have something on my face?” Glenn asks, and rubs at his mouth.
“No, you’re good.” Robin says. “You’re great.”
Because I adore a full-circle moment, that's why. * * * * *
“Your eyes were intense," Robin laughs. "It looked like you were going to start growling redrum at me."
This is my own fault for saying in the last chapter that Glenn was rambling about Kubrick moon landing conspiracies when he comes back from his walk. I tried like seven different ways to get them on the subject. I still don’t know if it feels natural. * * * * *
Glenn stabs an accusatory finger toward Robin. “Did you suggest not doing the show because you knew I’d argue with you and talk myself into doing it?”
Can’t outro this story without at least a little argayment.
Glenn usually finds him in the bathroom at the end of the night, looking grumpy about being up past his bedtime and holding some girl’s hair back while she barfs.
With what we've learned about Robin over the course of Crowd, we now have the context to understand that for Robin, this drunk girl is very much the ghost of Christmas Past. I don't imagine he goes to many of these parties.
* * * * *
It doesn’t bother Glenn a bit. Life isn’t a movie, the cheerleader doesn’t have to put on leather pants and start smoking in order to get her bad boy and her happily ever after.
I know that there’s more going on in Grease than that, but consider: would Glenn know that?
* * * * *
He and Robin are very different people, and they always will be. They don’t make sense on the surface, but they both know who they are, and who they are fits together perfectly.
Circling back to Robin at the end of Name, expressing his anxieties:
Robin rests his forehead on the steering wheel, avoiding Glenn’s eyes. “Like I don’t make sense for you, and everybody can see it.”
Some of the circles that I closed in Crowd were ones that were opened in Crowd, but some went back further. * * * * *
Love bubbles up in Glenn like a shaken-up soda, and he finds himself standing up suddenly and grabbing Robin’s shirt collar to tug him down for a kiss.
I wanted to mirror the ‘Hot Dad surges forward to kiss him, hard’ thing from the beginning, but given the established height difference, Glenn can’t just go for it unannounced unless he’s gonna stand tippy-toe. Thank you @whotaughtyougrammar for this art of what happens when Glenn tries the collar-tug and Robin doesn't notice fast enough.
* * * * *
Robin is caught off guard and stumbles half a step back, managing at the last second not to drop his drink. “One second, sweetheart, just one second. You surprised me. What was that about?”
Glenn gives him a lopsided grin. “Luck?”
“Oh, well, then. For luck.”
Luck and how to change it is a big theme throughout the whole series, both in the sense of ‘good fortune/unearned blessings’ and ‘random, unforeseen chance.’ More later about that. * * * * *
When Glenn presses his tongue forward to slip between Robin’s lips, he tastes lemon and sugar.
Same as the first time they kissed, when he’d been drinking whiskey sours.
* * * * *
“Right, yeah,” Robin breathes, but he doesn’t let Glenn out of his arms quite yet. “You know,” Robin adds, “Nick was telling me earlier that he’s going to sleep over at Grant’s tonight.”
So I'll be there when you arrive / The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive / And when you take me in your arms / And hold me tight / I know it's gonna mean so much tonight * * * * *
She’d found him there, and she'd saved him, like she always did.
We didn’t know Morgan’s name when we first wrote the scene where they discussed her in Name, so we wrote around it as though Glenn was reluctant to name her out loud. We maintained this throughout the rest of Crowd except for the line where Glenn says that he’ll tell Robin about the phone call with Morgan. Felt right. Her presence is very much felt but Glenn, at least, is not in the habit of talking about her unless he has no other option. * * * * *
They ran out of the venue and down the street, hand in hand and giggling like kids playing hooky.
@shrack was the one who began writing our Glenn with very physical methods of showing affection. I liked it a lot as a vibe and carried on with it. He and Morgan are also very young here. Glenn would be 21 or 22 at the oldest, which is barely older than Connor is now. I've always attributed some of his immaturity to the fact that he became a parent pretty young. (Glenn is 36 when Name starts and Nick is 13, meaning Nick was born when Glenn was 23 and probably conceived when Glenn was 22.)
* * * * *
It was like falling in love with every single person in the crowd, all at once. Glenn felt like he would never be lonely again as long as he could have that feeling.
Facing twenty thousand of your friends / how can anyone feel so lonely? * * * * *
By then, the GC3 performed in venues so cavernous that Glenn couldn’t see anything outside his own spotlight. He could hear the audience roar approval at him, making a wall of sound that he could feel like a physical force. It was loud enough to drown out the screaming in his head, loud enough to let him forget that she wasn’t out there among them. It was the closest he could get to forgetting, so Glenn did it as much as he could.
Part of a success that never ends / But I’m thinking about you only... * * * * *
Slowly but surely, he’d been learning how to go through life with his mind and heart focused on someone else’s well-being. It didn’t come naturally: that wasn’t the kind of family either of them knew. Still, they’d promised each other that they could do better than how they were raised.
I am never here for iterations of this dynamic that assume Glenn is the fuck-up and Morgan was the perfect parent. They both became parents at exactly the same moment, you know? The world does not need one more story with an incompetent sitcom dad and his smoking-hot wife who does all the actual parenting. * * * * *
Nick is long since asleep, but Adele fucking Close has stayed up until these sickening hours of the early morning.
Conveniently, Glenn’s brain has overwritten all his memories with the correct name and pronouns for Nick, because writing around it is a pain in the ass otherwise. * * * * *
“Hello, Glenny.”
Bill calling Glenn “Glenny” that time at Ravenloft really stuck with me. I don’t know if they ever revisited that in the actual podcast, but it was so slimy and chilling somehow. * * * * *
“I fucked up,” Glenn says bluntly, and his mother narrows her eyes ever so slightly at his cursing.
Glenn gets in his own head early in Crowd about comparing himself to Penny, and Robin later worries about putting himself on ‘the same level’ as Morgan. Neither of them are quite galaxy-brained enough to realize that there’s more than one person in Glenn’s life who uses a lot of terms of endearment for him, considers themselves old-fashioned, and wishes everybody wouldn’t swear so much. * * * * *
“Thank you, mother,” Glenn grits out. He sounds absolutely nothing like himself, not that she minds. “I appreciate your help.”
I assume that part of the reason Glenn has such a hard time offering genuine apologies is that when he was growing up, too much of his apologizing was forced rather than sincere. * * * * *
“You are out of chances. If you continue to neglect this child, I will get the state involved, and I will take custody myself. I’ve already spoken to the Freemans, and I have their full support.”
Morgan’s parents are not mentioned very often and don’t seem to be a big part of the Close boys’ lives. I imagine that whatever tenuous relationship Glenn had forged with them post-accident was pretty much destroyed by Adele forming this alliance with them and telling Glenn about it. * * * * *
Her patient demeanor is meant to remind him that she's here to clean up his mess again, like she always does, and his proper response is humble and apologetic gratitude.
And that is why Robin being patient can set Glenn off so bad, such as after the bike accident when they were arguing:
Glenn doesn’t really hear most of what Robin’s saying. It’s all just soothing, pointless stuff in that obnoxious tone that means Robin thinks he’s the smart, calm, mature one here and Glenn’s the immature asshole who lost his temper again. He’d never say it, but Glenn can tell what he’s thinking.
I hope it came across clearly in that part that Robin doesn’t actually see the situation that way and isn’t saying or thinking anything to that effect, but Glenn feels like he is because he’s had this somatic/emotional reaction triggered. Spatially he's arguing with Robin, but his body and a lot of his brain thinks he's arguing with his mom. Trauma can be like that. * * * * *
His mother keeps talking like he didn’t say a word. “We can all stay in each others’ lives, Glenny. I’m not trying to cut you out, I’m trying to help you. I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family.”
Sometimes the monster will tell you it's not a monster. * * * * *
From that night forward, Glenn will always know that he’s not a good person, because he almost takes his mother up on the offer.
I don’t think being tempted by this offer means Glenn’s a bad person, but we write Glenn as somebody who wishes he was a good person but is really afraid that he isn’t. He was at a very low point here and he needed help. Feeling drawn to the only help on offer, even if it was from a toxic source, is pretty understandable. * * * * *
"I'll get Nicky ready for school tomorrow and you can sleep in. We’ll finish talking about this when you feel better.”
Man, I hate that abuser thing when they start being sweet as soon as you muster the energy to fight back. You get a little bit of steam built up and then they dodge you like a matador so that it dissipates again. To be clear, Nicky isn't Nick's deadname or anything, it's just the somewhat baby-ish diminutive form that Adele uses for him, like how she calls Glenn "Glenny." * * * * *
“Family is important,” his mother says sadly. Just before she closes the door, she gives him a look that’s an exquisite mix of regret, tender affection, and a tiny spark of hope. Adele would have been a great actress, but Glenn can’t imagine who that particular performance was for.
Performance skills run in the family and Adele comes by her acting chops honestly, although she doesn’t know it. I picture one of those situations where a young woman from a good background gets pregnant by some rakehell actor and her family covers up the scandal by raising the baby as a new sibling. That would mean that as long as Adele’s “older sister” never spilled the beans, nobody in their family at this point knows that they’re related to Meryl. If Nick ever decides to do one of those ancestry DNA tests, things are going to get interesting. * * * * *
He certainly didn’t find it very compelling. Family? All the family he will ever need is sleeping soundly down the hallway, tiny arms wrapped tight around a stuffed plush Babar.
I wanted Nick to have a stuffed animal that was sort of his parallel to Mr. Lion. Robin is drinking with Mr. Lion in the beginning of Crowd when he’s upset about losing Connor to college, and Mr. Lion appears again when Glenn comes in to talk to Nick and Connor after Robin’s accident.
“I… I guess I don’t know.” Nick looks down, avoiding eye contact by staring into the darkness under Connor’s bed. Mr Lion is under there in a clear plastic box, along with some other stuffed animals. Even when Nick first met Connor, the stuffed animals were already banished underneath the bed instead of on top of it. But over the years, Connor’s never thrown them away.
Mr. Lion is one of the various ways we played with the theme that Connor is, as Nick puts it, “somewhere between a kid and an adult.” Connor is a very confident and clever guy, but you don't magically get a giant box of maturity and life experience on your 18th birthday. At various points, he asks both Nick (at the campus concert) and Glenn (after Robin’s accident) to try to understand that he's still growing and figuring stuff out. Nick has definitely been deprived of some chances to be a kid, but in some ways Connor has as well. He started hanging out with Glenn after Penny and Robin split up, and although he and Nick obviously hit it off, Connor was closer to Glenn for a while. In a different universe, that might not have turned out as well - I mean, tell me you wouldn't side-eye that arrangement in real life. I sure would. Robin just sort of flings his hands up at the role Connor plays for the Close boys, but I strongly suspect that shit would not have flown on Penny’s watch.
It’s funny - he thought Connor was so grown-up when they met, but the guy was only 16 when the Wrights moved in next door. He wasn’t much older by the time he was over at the Close place almost every day, helping Nick with homework or cleaning questionable leftovers out of the fridge. It didn’t strike Nick as weird at the time, It was just another thing about his life that wasn’t like anybody else’s. He never questioned what was in it for Connor. Back then, Nick didn’t even realize how lonely he himself was - he wouldn't have figured out why a kid whose parents had just gotten divorced might want to come over to the chaotic Close apartment to get away from the quiet in his own home.
Everybody was doing their best, and everything worked out for the best, but Connor over the course of the stories is sorting out the balance that works for him in terms of responsibility and playfulness. Fortunately, now that he has less responsibility for Nick, he can enjoy Nick more as a friend and brother. In Name, Robin and Glenn both sort of assume Connor will act as a babysitter to Nick while they go off on their first date; by Crowd, Connor is hanging out playing Smash with Nick and Grant as the gents get ready for their dinner date, but he's there socially, as a peer. Him being goofier and more immature also frees up Nick to do the same, since if Connor is cool and Connor is being playful, then "it's not a little kid thing, it's a bro thing" They both get to be kids now in a way that they weren't before, and I love that for them. Anyway, the point of Mr. Lion and why I wanted to give Nick a stuffed animal as well was to draw the parallel between the sons more directly and to anchor the stuffed animal component. So far there hadn't been any moment in which an actual kid was holding an actual stuffed animal.
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In Defense of Anakin Skywalker (and Hayden Christensen)
I grew up with Star Wars, my whole family loves Star Wars. I was 8 when I saw Episode I and afterwards, I was completely immersed in the Star Wars universe. Ewan McGregor's Obi-Wan Kenobi was probably my first fictional boyfriend and I'm unashamedly still in love with him too.
Episode II: The Attack of the Clones came out when I was 11 and so naturally I was excited to see the continuation of the Star Wars prequel universe. However, nothing could have prepared me for the absolute utter gorgeousness of Canadian actor, Hayden Christensen who was cast to play the adolescent Anakin Skywalker.
My memories of first seeing Episode II are fond because I got to see the movies with my older siblings while on vacation in Myrtle Beach. It was probably my first experience of being accepted among my older adult brothers and sisters or the feeling of 'grownupness' as I like to call it.
So Attack of the Clones has always been an special film to me because I saw it at a time when I was no longer being viewed as a child, but as a growing teenager.
It's also why I've always been rather defensive of the film too. While the film was titled Attack of the Clones, it may as well have been re-titled, "Attack of Anakin Skywalker (and subsequently, Hayden Christensen)". For over 20 years, there has been an absolute and indescribable hatred of Anakin Skywalker and many people blamed both Jake Lloyd and Hayden Christensen's supposed poor acting as the result of a badly done Anakin.
And to be honest even though I had a massive crush on Hayden Christensen and was hardly a movie critic at the time, I felt that at times that Anakin could have been better acted. However, I was young and didn't care about the script or the acting. Yet, for years I constantly defended, Attack of the Clones, Anakin Skywalker and Hayden Christensen. Partly due to nostalgia, partly to being a teenage girl and most of all partly to do with understanding the character of Anakin as being misunderstood, misinterpreted and not being treated as an adult by the elders in his life.
Did Anakin have problems? Yes.
Were most of these problems his fault? No.
Did Anakin ever try to fix these problems and better himself? Everyday of his life.
He had nothing, but he gave everything
The prequels were written as a timeline of a boy's journey from goodness into darkness. Anakin's life is a story arch of sacrifice and redemption. Life has not always been good to Anakin. He was born a slave with no father. He was raised in the strong love of wonderful mother Shmi Skywalker. While Shmi may have been scared and confused as to how she conceived a child without a man, she raised her son in love and simple contentment.
Chances are Anakin and his mother probably faced terrible abuse in their time as slaves and more than once, Anakin may have been separated from Shmi as leverage for greedy slave owners. Although a slave, Anakin was never a victim. He may have been physically owned, but his heart and mind were free. He was his own person, always thinking outside of the box, building, creating, questioning everything and everyone. Not to mention a little wild and rather reckless.
Even as a child Anakin was a little strange to people. For a slave to have such a hopeful and positive attitude may have seemed bizarre to outsiders, but that was just the norm for him. Shmi once remarked that her son knew nothing of greed. For a boy raised with nothing, all he had were his talents as an inventor and growing pilot. And he used his talents for other people. He built C-3PO to help his mom, he entered the podrace to help Qui-Gon Jinn, he always gave without any expectation of being thanked.
A spirit that refused to surrender
After Anakin is freed and sent to train as a Jedi, that wild spirit was still intact. Much to his by-the-book master's dismay. Anakin didn't have the opportunity to grow up in the strict Jedi Temple that was built on order, rules and tradition. As a child, Anakin was use to being himself and not fitting into anyone's mold. His original dream was to be a pilot, not a Jedi. No one asked him if he wanted to be a Jedi, no one asked him if he wanted to be trained by Obi-Wan Kenobi.
While Anakin may have been grateful for both opportunities presented to him, overtime he may have seen this new life as not to different from the one he left. A life run by others. Telling him what to do, where to go, how to dress, how to behave. He survived as a slave because he dared to dream and imagine and refused to be defined by others.
Now he's thrown into a culture where individuality is looked down upon. He lived through the stifling Jedi order because he still held onto those qualities. He was going to be himself on his terms. He would nod his head and say yes when he needed to, but off the clock he would live by his own rules. Something that Obi-Wan and the Jedi order could not understand. And Anakin is getting frustrated by this.
So now we get to Attack of the Clones (and the Attack of Hayden Christensen). Critics came down hard on both Anakin and Hayden. Constantly complaining about Anakin's constant complaining, his tantrums, broodiness and being a crybaby about everything. Critics blamed the disaster of Anakin Skywalker on the terrible miscasting of Hayden Christensen. The only redeeming quality Hayden Christensen had that saved him was the fact he was so easy to look at.
For years, fans were desperate to know who Anakin Skywalker was. And so the pressure to deliver a good character that could measure up to the icon of Darth Vader may have seemed insurmountable. And so when people got this confused, overemotional 19 year old, who has no experience in love or sex, but is madly in love with a beautiful young women; and who wants to be respected in a highly established culture, without losing himself or conforming, well people were just disappointed. The disappointment can be explained in one of Anakin's most famous lines.
"HE'S HOLDING ME BACK!"
He, being George Lucas who was holding back Hayden's actual talent to create a good three dimensional character. Plus his bad script writing. Poor Hayden was just made to read lines on a page and somehow make this sad character somebody that people can root for. Unfortunately fans and critics ate him alive. It's only in recent years that people have begun to realize that they were blaming the wrong person. And by blaming Hayden, they were completely misunderstanding Anakin as a character.
His most beautiful gift, his most fatal flaw
Of all of Anakin's gifts, his ability to love deeply was probably his most profound and his most dangerous. The Jedi Temple forbade romantic attachments to others and for good reason. When you become attached to or love someone beyond the boundaries of platonic friendship you become afraid of losing them. The end of my review for the Star Wars prequels sums it up the best:
In The Phantom Menace, Yoda warns Anakin about the dangers of being afraid. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. Anakin's most beautiful attribute is also his most fatal flaw. His ability to love deeply. Yet, if you love someone you will always live in fear of losing them. Anakin was created by darkness, but raised in the light of his mother's love. His own love was made manifest by Padme and then by their unborn child/children. However, Love no matter how strong can be weakened and even be destroyed by the evil of fear. If the prequels taught anything about life, it taught how fear (even in its smallest form) can be be our most detrimental enemy. Living alone in fear and not seeking help is a signing of our own death warrants. What might have happened if Anakin had gone to Obi-Wan and seek his help? Would things have been different? The prequels were not meant to tell a happy story. They were written as a timeline of a boy's journey from goodness into darkness. No, they don't have the silliness or humor of the Originals, because there is nothing humorous about someone's self-destruction. Yet, the story of Anakin Skywalker's transformation had to be told in a way that was real and heartbreaking. To take Darth Vader and make him a human who could feel and understand and love could be an insurmountable task. Yet, you only need to watch his death scene at the end of Return of The Jedi to see that the humane part of Anakin Skywalker had always been there. The prequels were made to be built on that final scene of redemption and human love. A husband's love to save his wife became a father's love that could overcome darkness and hate. An extreme love that defied fear and held on to hope. That was the love of Anakin Skywalker.
Anakin could be a bratty and immature young adult. However, to only base a character by his few annoying flaws is overlooking the bigger and better picture. Anakin was an outsider his whole life and yet that never seemed to bother him. He never cared about fitting in. He was content being himself and he refused to let Obi-Wan or the Jedi Order or even Padme change him. He held onto who he was for as long as he was able to. Then the tragedy of losing his wife changed that. The indomitable spirit wasn't broken, it was destroyed. Anakin re-entered a life of slavery for over 20 years.
And he was ultimately freed by one person. An orphan who once had nothing but a talent as an inventor and dreams of being a pilot. A young Jedi with an unbreakable spirit that refused to surrender to evil or fear or pain or loss. A son who loved his father so deeply that he would fight to the death to free Anakin Skywalker forever.
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Siren!Taeil: Eye of the Beholder {1}
CHAPTER ONE // NEXT
❃ Taeil didn’t know which was worse: being a male in a family of purely female sirens or being a rare phenomenon in a group of ‘normals’. He never had it easy growing up and going against everything which makes a siren didn’t make it any easier. He would always be thankful for that fateful day when Angel!Taeyong saved him. However when a certain individual puts all of N City on their toes as they’re a risk to another citizen’s life, why can’t Taeil feel nothing except sympathy towards her instead of the hatred the other’s hold? ❃
۵‗✩⑈
"Taeil," Taeyong gently shook the older brother and gave him a warm smile as his tired eyelids fluttered open. "You can go to bed now. Y/N's asleep, I've got everything under control."
He quickly checked on your sleeping figure in the infirmary bed. He didn't know how long he was out but he was certain that you were awake the last time he saw you. Slowly he stood up, giving a small thanks to Taeyong before leaving the infirmary room. He wouldn't go to bed, he didn't need to, all he did need was some fresh air and thinking time.
Quietly, avoiding waking up any of the other residents, he made his way through the dimly lit corridors until finding the back door. Sliding it open carefully he tiptoed out, allowing the cool midnight breeze to blow on his face. It was a quick walk to the lake. Well it was more of a stream really.
As he reached the water's edge he finally sat down with the grass underneath him, occasionally the wind would move the grass in such a way that it'd dance in between his fingers, lightly tickling him. He had an urge to shift into his siren form but decided against it, knowing the younger boys they're probably spying on him right now from their bedroom windows.
He brought his head down to the grass and lay there, silently. The grass moulded underneath him, leaving his temporary mark into the land. He could hear the lake gently lapping against the bed, running further and further upstream. There was probably a river somewhere nearby, acting out as a branch into the wide and vast ocean.
Ocean. That word alone reminded him of...home. Could he really call it a home though?
It always surprised him how he even managed to survive. No one had realised he was different until he was six, when sirens get their human form. His once loving family turned on him just like that. Why? He was a young boy, not a girl.
He had loved where he lived. The small, grassy cove reached out onto the beach. The grass had a different feel to the one that grew at N City, it was more...rough. Pretty much summed up his whole childhood. At first it'd start with the girls his age, pushing and shoving. As soon as Taeil retaliated though that's when the older sirens began to torture him.
They left scars but they were easy to hide with clothes, he couldn't say the same for his siren form. That's why he refuses unless necessary, he doesn't need his friends to see him like that.
"Taeil hyung!" A young voice yelled out, his feet flattening the grass beneath each stride. This was someone who didn't care if he woke others. Donghyuck. "What are you doing out here?"
Taeil quickly wiped a stray tear and lifted himself up from the ground. Donghyuck bounded into him, wrapping his arms around his elder brother. He awkwardly returned the affection, he himself wasn't much of a skinship person.
"It's cold out here," Hyuck shivered as he pulled away. Taeil noticed he was barefoot and only wearing shorts with a thin, white shirt.
There was a moment of silence between the two. A chilling breeze blew passed them both, pinching their revealed skin. Hyuck quickly brought his hands to his upper arms and rubbed in a sad attempt to warm himself up.
"You didn't need to come out," Taeil eventually smiled and brought an arm around Hyuck's shoulders. "I was just getting some air before going to bed but let's get inside now. You're right, it's freezing."
Maneuvering back into the mansion Hyuck looked up in awe at Taeil. He didn't say anything, he knew Taeil wouldn't talk about this stuff with him but he had so much hurt in his eyes, so much pain, yet kept it inside and kept being his jokey self. Much like himself. He admired Taeil for that.
After walking Hyuck back up to his room which he shared with Jaemin and Renjun Taeil finally collapsed into his bed. He had to resist the urge not to run back to your infirmary room and go to bed in the chair again, just so he could be there for her when she woke up. Maybe he was being too attentive though so he decided against it, he didn't want to give others the wrong idea.
Settling down under his duvet and forcing his past memories out of his mind Taeil was finally able to sleep. Before he was completely gone a small smile sketched onto his features as a quick image of you fluttered through his mind. You were sleeping, safe and sound in the infirmary two floors below him, a smile which mirrored his own blessing your delicate features.
۵‗✩⑈
"TAEIL GET UP WE NEED YOU!" A series of knocks hammered at his door as various voices yelled his name. As of yet he was in no real hurry to get up, usually when this happened -and it tended to happen a lot in a house with the devil himself in it- there ended up being no real threat but instead a cream pie waiting to smack him in the face.
"TAEIL IT'S Y/N!"
Now he was up. If his fate did end up being a cream pie then he can bet that whoever the pranker was would soon become the prankee.
Dashing into your infirmary room with a sense of urgency he immediately went to your side. You were out cold, pale and seemingly unresponsive.
Taeil's eyes scanned the faces which accompanied him in the room: Taeyong, Doyoung, Jaehyun and ... Mingcheng. Quickly doing a body scan of the latter he released a sigh of relief- she was carrying no weapons and she didn't seem triumphant. Always a good sign.
"Taeyong what happened? How did her vitals drop so drastically you told me she was doing fine!" Taeil questioned, he knew he should have never left your side, screw the attentive nonsense he would've been there for you when you needed him most.
"Her heart and breathing rate dropped after another... episode. We've put her on oxygen but we aren't medics Taeil, this type of healing is beyond my powers. I heal bones. Not curses," Taeyong said sternly, not appreciating Taeil's seemingly ungrateful tone.
He took note of the oxygen mask and evaluated your chest movements, not quite how he'd like it but assumed it was an improvement.
Suddenly a pang of realisation hit him, how he had forgotten the most important piece of information he didn't know. "Episode? Is Nev okay, what happened?"
"About time grandpa. She's fine, shaken up but fine. Your little friend here tried to kill her she's lucky she-"
"She tried to kill her Taeyong? But I thought she was bed ridden," it was more of a observation than a question, although he failed to observe the very obvious glares which Mingcheng was shooting through him.
"Did he just interrupt me?" She hissed to her mate, Jaehyun, evidently pissed off.
"He's on edge babe-" "He'll be on the edge of my foo-"
"Jaehyun. Mingcheng. Please go check on Nev and Leon, shoot I should really check on Leon...Taeil, could you give me a second? Come on you two," Taeil just nodded, not watching the three of them leave and not giving Doyoung much of his attention either. His full focus was on you, this wasn't the secure figure he pictured last night, no this was the exact opposite.
There was a gentle silence which occasionally was interrupted by the sound of the heart monitor. Every time a sharp 'beep' pierced through the air Taeil would look up and check your heart rate, noting down if there was an improvement or not every time mainly for his own sanity. He was so absorbed in...You, that he forgot about Doyoung who was sat on the chair opposite the bed, checking out his older brother's behaviour and gentleness regarding you.
"Why do you like her so much?" He suddenly questioned, cocking on eyebrow in a way which Taeil couldn't stand, as if Doyoung had just figured out his entire life story by watching him for five minutes.
"I have no clue what you're on about," Taeil dismissed by shaking his head. "Who's Leon?"
"Just some Lion girl who's been stabbed or shot can't remember the exact details, brought some half wolf dude with her or something too. Now answer my question." Doyoung leaned back in his chair now, his long legs outstretched across the floor.
"You should really pay attention to the people Taeyong saves. Maybe then people will like you?" Taeil sniped back, mimicking his younger brother's actions as he leant back in his chair. Debating whether to stretch out his legs too he decided against it, he was much smaller than Doyoung and didn't need to prove it.
"What's the point? They looked like a total mad show anyway. I don't waste my breath on obviously crazy people."
"Yet you ended up living with sixteen of them, now more if you count the mates. You should loosen up, you're stressed," Taeil smiled as Doyoung chuckled to himself. He had got him there, the residents at N CITY were far from sane.
"I should say the same for you hyung, you should let us in and not push us away when we ask you stuff," now Doyoung had evened out the score. Taeil couldn't think of a reply and the sharp 'beep' of your machine left him unable to think straight anyway as he quickly noted down the results.
"I'm gonna check on Lion Girl and Wolf Boy, call us if anything happens okay?"
Taeil just nodded in response, "see you wizard boy," he smirked as the door clicked behind Doyoung as he left him by himself with you by his side.
He liked the thought of that, you standing by his side, just the thought of you standing without needing support made him happy.
He wanted you to be happy but this was just the sympathy talking... right?
--------------------------------
That's chapter one guys 🤪 hoped you enjoyed and give my boy Taeil some love 💝 -Stroni-
#nct#nct series#nct scenarios#nct 127#taeil#nct taeil#siren!taeil#nct au#supernatural!nct#taeil scenarios#taeil series#taeil au#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 series#nct 127 drabbles#nct 127 au#nct 2018#nct 2018 au#nct 2018 scenarios#nct 2018 series#wizard!doyoung#angel!taeil
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One Heart, Two Souls: FFX Fan fic
Chapter 1: Part 1.
Cold… That was just one of the things I felt. It was certainly an improvement from five minutes ago.
Then, my lungs had filled with salt water. I remember vomiting it up with what I presumed to be blood, as it left an iron flavor in my mouth.
What a fabulous combination. Blood and seawater. At some point, I must have hit my stomach really hard, that would probably explain the mix of blood and bile.
But what did I have in me to care? My feelings had been washed with a majority of my blood in the sea. The same blood that poured out of my wounds.
The wounds that reminded me of my poor decisions, my failures, and of course, my death. Dying came to me fast, but ended so slowly. I can still feel the sick irony, as the god of the corrupt religion laughs in my face. Waiting, regenerating, plotting which of it's followers to kill next. I felt bitter, but that bitterness turned to sweet salvation and sugar coated numbness, well mentally that was.
The right side of me hurt like hell. Something around the wounds made me hurt. Seawater maybe? No, this felt grainy. My wounds stung and my body ached.
It seemed like every time I tried to move a muscle, it felt like the limb attached to it was being severed from the rest of my body.
I wasn't sure what was worse, my increasing body aches? My inability to open my eyes? Or the the slight but selfish contempt I had for two people I called my best friends?
My eyes, I need to open them. I can hate myself later. I did eventually tried to open my eyes, but when I did, my right one wouldn't open.
The blood on my eye started to clot and eventually scabbed up enough to keep me from forcing it open.
I did manage to get my left eye open though. What I saw was… sort of dark. My good eye and bad eye stung. Using what I knew so far, it was sand that was irritating my eye and wounds.
Somehow, I had face planted into sand. When I figured this out, I lifted my head up quickly. I had finally made it to shore.
I wasn't sure how I ended up here, or in the middle of the ocean for that matter.
I found myself on the beach of a coastal city. It was a big city, but it couldn't have been Bevelle.
I had been all over that city, and knew every landmark, but none of the knees around me looked familiar.
It didn't take me long to figure out where I was, as I noticed that it was busy with machina.
Could this be what I think this could be? Is this Jecht's Zanarkand?
This meant I was able to fulfill my promise to Jecht, but worth how I was feeling, I spat at the idea of fulfilling the promise, as I still felt contempt him and Braska leaving me behind. Leaving me alone.
As I looked around, I noticed somehow staring at me. It was a child. He looked to be six or seven, but that was not the key thing that stood out about him. He looked like Jecht.
The only thing I could mutter out to him was, “Who… are you?”
The boy looked at me horrified before he ran screaming. “Maaaaa!”. Instinctively, I got up quickly and grabbed his wrist, but that just made him scream more.
“LET GO OF ME!”
“Wait! I think I know your father!”
At hearing this, the boy kept quiet.
“Is your name Tidus?”
The boy was about to answer, but someone came out of their home. An elder looking woman she was. She shouted at us from afar.
The whole beach was made up from boat houses, and she lived in one.
“What's going on over there!?”
We made the mistake of looking over there, it just her yell at us.
“Are you alright young boy?”
She stared at me, then decided it was fit to yell at me next. I didn't really appreciate the attention.
“You! You leave that poor little boy alone! I'll call the police!”
I had no idea what she was talking about. What was a police, or the police? I didn't stay to find out. With the little energy I had, I got up and ran.
To my surprise, the boy followed. We eventually made it somewhere where we'd be safe to talk in private.
“You're Jecht's son, are you not?”
The boy flinched at my question. I could tell that just his father's name made him sick.
“Everyone knows my stupid old man, what makes you special?”
“I knew him on a personal level. I spent three months traveling with him. We were friends. He asked me to find you and your mother.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I'm only here to bear news off your father to you and your mother, and to help out with you as needed.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“Look, it's hard to explain. I just need you to trust me.”
There was silence among us. The boy did finally reply after a couple minutes. All though it was monotone, out was the answer I hoped for.
“Fine.”
I followed him as he guided me to his home. He lived in a fancy little boat house, perfect for a small family of three.
Despite it being a nice, sunny day, there seemed to be something dark and unbecoming of the bright, little house.
The sound of the child's voice snapped me out of my daze.
“I'm going to go get my mom, wait here.”
He opened the door, the inside looked unwelcoming. The boy continued into the dark pit of despair called a doorway. I had to advert my attention to something else to keep myself from running in after him, as I was terrified of what may have been lurking in abyss.
I caught the eyes of the neighbors next door. They were a young, attractive couple. Looks of terror formed on their faces, so like Tidus.
Was my condition really that revolting? As I continued to think about it, the smell of rotten flesh wafted from my body.
I looked down at my decomposing wounds to see that I was squirting blood everywhere as that people next door were watching and reacting. It had occurred to me that my condition was that bad.
My focus was interrupted with Tidus’s return. He walked over to me, but I kept my eyes glued to the dark corridor, waiting, expecting a beautiful woman to illuminate the dark vibes I was getting from interior. Besides, Jecht was supposedly the best blitzer in Zanarkand, and maybe even the world, he would have to have a wife prettier than any of the gorgeous women who flocked to him at the end of the game, or anywhere he was seen.
Finally, a wisp appeared in the doorway. What I saw left me in shock and aww. It was a woman, she would have been beautiful if it wasn't for a couple issues.
Unlike a normal person who emerges in order of a silhouette to a full human body. She starred as a wisp and came out a silhouette.
She was freakishly skinny, her skin stretched across her body like tight clothing. From a literal standpoint, she looked like flesh and bones.
You could see every curve of her skeletal system. The woman was as pale as a ghost. She looked very sickly, almost as if you even slightly touched her, she would shatter.
However, what stood out about her the most was her eyes. They were a shiny, bright, blue, yet appeared to be incredibly dull.
She had darkly outlined bags under her eyes as if she never slept. She looked like the creation made by a depressed artist who felt like spilling their feelings onto the paper.
Her eyes were glazed over like freshly cut glass. She looked like someone who would smile a lot, but not as of now. The one thing the glimmer in her eyes and her smile had in common other than being beautiful. Gone.
Disappeared with Jecht himself, kept in the pocket of his chaos torn pants, as he walked to his demise in the hands of the culprit himself, as he would turn a small family of three into a smaller family of two, leaving it in shambles.
It was very clear she herself was lying on a deathbed, created by her husband's absence and her inability to go on. Her death would be by her own weak, trembling hands. The woman in her frail state spoke.
“I'm sorry, I can't help you. We don't have any medical supplies to take care of you with.”
“That's not why I'm here ma’am.”
“Oh? My son said differently.”
We both stared at the boy. He replied to his unwanted attention.
“Hey, someone had to say it. You look like a walking corpse.”
His mother of course didn't approve of his comment.
“Tidus! That's impolite, apologize.”
He hung his head low in reaction to the unwanted reaction before he spoke again.
“... Sorry.”
“It's not a problem.”
His mother's focus shifted back towards me now.
“Why are you here then?”
My heart dropped. I wasn't ready to make things worse, but I made a promise.
“I've come bearing unfortunate news… I'm here to inform you that your husband's death has been confirmed… I'm sorry for your
loss.”
She fell to the ground shrieking.
“I knew he was gone, but no one ever found his body! Knowing this, I believed he wasn't dead, that he'd come back to us, my sweet, sweet Jecht! That's been my only hope for months!”
I wanted to comfort her, but I wasn't sure what I could do for her. She had just lost her husband. Although I was also grieving his death, I didn't have it in me to cry.
Looking down at Jecht's wife, I could tell deep down, her heart bleed sorrow, rage, and love. Love that was clearly not reserved for her son.
He tried to go comfort his mother, but when bee did, she just about snapped his head off clean.
“Mommy, it'll be alright-”
“DON'T TOUCH ME!”
She harshly ripped her hands from her son's gentle grasp. I was stunned to see how she treated him. Tidus began to cry, but it only managed to make matters worse for him. She replied with venomous words.
“Grow up and stop crying! You're being pathetic! You HATE him! You said son yourself, so why are you crying!?”
She clearly had a short fuse. The boy cowered. He wiped his tears at his mother's command. He stayed long enough to glare at me, then stomped into the house and slammed the door behind him.
I wanted to tell her the way she was treating her son was wrong, but I couldn't risk her taking offence to what I would say and not let me see him again, so I kept quiet.
Yet again, I kept my eyes attached to the door, while recognizing the so called fruits of my labor.
They were rotten and stunk of failure. A sad and emotionally abused son and a distant mother, that's what was gained.
His mother whispered random words, they sounded of suicide. I looked to find het skin even more tightly stretched across her skull as her eyes got big.
Suddenly the air begun to fill with a bad smell, something other than rotten flesh. It was urine.
I looked below the woman to find a dark yellow puddle under her feet, and a wet spot on her jeans. You could tell she didn't drink much by the discoloration of her… nevermind, too much detail.
I was shocked at the site, and also disgusted. I've had to bear news of fallen comrades to their families numerous times in the past, but I've never gotten this kind of reaction before.
I didn't think grief pissing one's self was anything more than a tale the higher ups told the cadets to disturb them in the warrior monks, but she did so.
I find it funny that this had to happen with the wife of my goner of a best friend. I guess life decided since it was a special occasion, that the reaction had to be equally special. Simply put, a godly, almighty, “Fuck you” from the world to me.
I'm horrible with emotions, I always have been. I watched as wet comps of years ran down her face powerless.
Not too long afterwards, she had passed out. I hadn't noticed, but when I looked away earlier, Tidus had pulled up a stool and watched us from the window of the door.
It took him awhile to move the stool and come outside, but he finally did. He came at me, pushing, hitting, and screaming.
“GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”
Hee growled at me as I restrained him. I got him inside and locked him in his room long enough to get his mother inside.
I couldn't just leave her to lay in a puddle of her own filth, so I picked her up and took her to the bathroom.
I let Tidus out, asked him if he could help me get his mother cleaned up. After enough fussing, he agreed to help.
There were many weird contraption in the bathroom, but I got her unclothed, and put her in the one that looked closer to a bath.
I wasn't surprised to see that she loomed entirely like a skeleton. However, I couldn't help but stare at her bony structure.
Of course, when Tidus came in, he took my intentions to be impure.
“Stop staring at mommies chest, you creep.”
“That wasn't what I was looking at, I swear!”
“Uh Huh… sure.”
“I promise! She's just… really skinny.”
“Mommy doesn't eat like she used to. She doesn't really eat at all. The doctor told her she needed to start eating more, or she would get sicker, but she never listened. I try to get her to eat, but she won't eat for me!”
He sounds like a mother himself, complaining about trying to get the children to eat right. He stared at me quietly as if he was waiting for something. I wasn't sure what he wanted from me.
“Aren't you going to turn the water on?” He said snarkily.
I wasn't sure how this thing worked, I turned the left knob hesitantly. His mother began to shiver uncontrollably. The boy put his hand in the water.
“It's cold genius! No wonder she's freezing!”
I turn the left knob back to its starting point, turning the water off, then I turn the right knob. I saw steam coming up, so I automatically thought a win for me, but then she flinched in discomfort.
He sticks his hand in a second time, but pulls back immediately.
“Ow!”
He looked up at me and scowled.
“Are you trying to cook her?! You're hurting Mommy!”
“I'm really sorry!”
“No! Just get out!”
I fulfill his wishes and go out to look around for a fresh towel and a set of clothing. It doesn't take Tidus long to call me back in there. He has me watch over her long enough to go grab some things. Tidus comes back with some rubbing alcohol, duct tape and some napkins.
“Stay still!”
“Why?”
“Well, I have to patch you up! I can't just have you bleeding everywhere! You're cleaning the blood up by the way, especially on the carpet, if you don't, mom will be maaaad!”
“That's noted, but are you sure using duct tape and napkins is a good idea?”
“Are you being ungrateful?”
I kept quiet. Duct tape and napkins were at least something. That and probably a better alternative than the local hospitals. Them trying to get my medical records would have been one giant headache all together.
I watch him and cringe at the sting of him stumping a lot of rubbing alcohol on my wounds. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from cursing up a storm. Seriously? Did this kid have no restraint? No idea how painful rubbing alcohol is?
He eventually moved on to putting the fanfic napkins on me and tapping the wounds up.
“You're very lucky mom was talking about throwing these out, or else I would have used paper napkins... But still, keep those hidden just in case.”
“Duly noted.”
He finally did finish, and to my surprise, his method wasn't all that shabby. The bleeding stopped, and the wounds were cleaned. My only issue is that he taped my bread entirely to keep the napkin concealed, this is going to hurt to pull off later.
I continued looking around for what I needed. I didn't take me long, I found her clothes in her dresser, I avoided the panty and bra drawer entirely, I already had taken her out of her clothes and had to put her back in them, I wasn't about to be the guy to look through her potentially sexually arousing undergarments.
I was making my way down the hall to the bathroom when Tidus comes running my direction. I knew something had to be wrong.
“Quick! Help me! Mommies head went under the water and I can't get het up!”
I run into the bathroom quickly and pull her up from the water. If I'd waited any longer, she would have drown. I sit her up long enough to put the towel and clothes down, then hold onto her and kept her head above the water long enough for Tidus to finish cleaning her up.
Afterwards, Tidus grabbed her forty clothes and stuck them in one of the two matching machina. I would later find out that they were a clothe washer and dryer.
I drained the automatic bath and took my time drying her off properly, then put her clothes back on her and carried her to her bed, then I tucked her in.
By the end of this, I stunk of not only rancid flesh and body odor, but a touch of urine. I considered using the bath, but it wasn't my place to do so without permission, so I just left it alone.
Tidus and I sat on the deck quietly. It was an hour before he went in to check on his mother. I could tell he was worried.
When he came back out, we spoke briefly, but the awkwardness turned to silence after the following conversation.
“Is your mother alright?”
“Why do you care?”
His words were cold and untrustworthy. What I said next probably didn't help matters any.
“I wouldn't know what to do if she dies.”
“Don't say she's going to die!”
After a while, we went back inside. There, he spoke to me for a second time. I wasn't off the hook just yet. I was to be thoroughly investigated by a seven-year old. First a doctor, next a detective. This kid has quite the future ahead of him.
“Why were you sent here by my father?”
“I was sent here to bear news off your father's passing, also to help out with you if necessary, in other words, your father's will.”
“... How did he die?”
“He died a hero's death-”
“Don't call my father a hero! He's not!”
There was a pause of silence between us. A few seconds later, I heard shuffling coming down the hallway. I watched as the thin lining of his mother appeared from within the shadows. Instantly, I got up, my first instinct being to guide her back to her room.
When we got back to her room, she said she wanted to talk to me in private, so I shut the door. That was a big mistake.
- To be continued.
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