#i say this but his subconscious isn’t even the focus of this chapter

[luckloveandwaterfalls]

Well the good news is that my writer’s block seems to have almost completely resolved itself and I’m already making good progress on the next chapter of Blood Before All, the other news is that holy shit this is dark and Alistair’s subconscious is a horrifying place

[johnconstantinesdick]

Here’s the promised Seffie meta—I wrote this after chapter 9 of Improbable Fiction, expanding on her queerness, relationship to Colette, and how she foils Gil. All under the cut!

So, in Improbable Fiction, Seffie’s queerness has been purposefully left ambiguous, and I would so dearly love to talk about why—some of this I was aware of when I was writing, and some of it is me finally putting words to my gut feelings. The main reason is this: when it comes to Seffie’s feelings for Gil, it doesn’t matter if she’s bisexual or a repressed lesbian or some other flavor of queer. It’s not relevant, because whatever the case is, her feelings still matter. Whether she’s experiencing romantic attraction or compulsory attraction, at the end of the day she deserves to have her experiences and feelings validated. Seffie has so often been treated as a pawn as a matter of course in her family. She’s so often been dictated to or groomed for certain positions or she’s just had it assumed what she feels or means or thinks that it almost felt… like I would just be going against the themes of her arc to say “well she’s a lesbian so these feelings weren’t REALLY a crush” or “she’s bisexual and her feelings for Gil are more valid because she CAN be attracted to men” or whatever because it doesn’t MATTER. what Seffie needs is to be listened to! Not interpreted by me to the readers, just Seffie laid bare, all confusion and hurt and righteous fury.

And it’s also why, while the ending of chapter 9 is very much intended to show that Colette and Seffie are In Lesbians, I firmly believe they didn’t actually kiss or officially get together or anything. It’s not the right TIME. if Colette were to confess to Seffie at a time like this, it would just show that they can’t be together because Colette doesn’t understand or respect Seffie—which she DOES. Seffie is coming off the high of her first love, true or not, and the heartbreak afterwards.

Gil has spent this entire time dismissing Seffie’s feelings. Part of that is just that it’s in his nature to be a little dismissive of other peoples feelings and bulldoze over them and focus on himself, but part of it is also that he thinks first of Seffie as Colette’s Love Interest, and thus He Can’t Be The One She Ends Up With. If Gil considers Seffie seriously and actually fully acknowledges that she has feelings that deserve to be validated if not reciprocated, then he’s going to have to run headfirst into the terrifying fact that he… doesn’t like her. And like sure yeah he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings so that’s a factor but it’s mostly that he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s incapable of loving her and he… doesn’t know WHY yet. He doesn’t really have the words to explain that he can’t feel those feelings now that he’s started to realize that people are actually serious about that stuff—he’s finally reaching the part of life that every arospec person goes through where it feels like you’re still stuck at thirteen not understanding that people aren’t joking or exaggerating their romantic interest or dating lives. Gil is standing at the edge of a realization and it’s terrifying!

And the thing is! Seffie and Gil are foils! Seffie isn’t that oblivious to Colette’s feelings on accident, she’s subconsciously ignoring them because then she’ll have to deal with how that makes her feel! Gil is acting the same way towards Seffie! And it’s why, at the end of the chapter, Seffie CAN’T reciprocate right away! The end of the chapter scene is about her finally acknowledging Colette’s feelings and her own suppressed ones, finally reaching an internal breaking point for herself and letting go of Gil and the willful ignorance! They’re on even footing now, and Seffie can finally have the space to start figuring herself out and figuring out how she feels separate from family pressure. Paris is very much a coming of age college story—nothing is going how anyone expected, everyone is trying to figure out where they stand and what they feel, and absolutely no one is getting enough sleep or making good decisions. Seffie isn’t done with her internal journey, she’s just at the START! She’s finally facing everything terrifying and raw in her heart and she can do that because she trusts Colette to listen to her and catch her when she falls. Colette sees her and knows her—not because they’re predestined true love, but because Colette looks and tries. Seffie is finally looking up and realizing that she’s had someone on her side this whole time.

They understand where they stand with each other, now, even without voicing it. Seffie is able to take that internal step because of that trust she has in Colette. They value each other enough to not ruin their friendship in the attempt at romance, to be careful with each other in moments of vulnerability. And that’s terrifying, for Seffie especially. But that’s not going to stop them from trying, and exploring this new facet of their relationship.

[sirowsky-stories]

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 7 - Perfectly Awkward Things

Description: Seeking out Marcus for answers turned out to be fruitful in more ways than one.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 3884 (1831 words added) Masterlist (this story)

   “My mother did what?” Marcus exclaimed in shock after you knocked on his office door and asked if he had a minute to talk, before telling him about the events of the morning.

   He’d looked so happy to see you, which had made it very difficult to remember why you’d come to visit him at all.

   “Yep. Suddenly I see why you felt the need to protect me from her. I still haven’t decided if I like her or not.”

   “I should think the answer would be ‘absolutely not’, after waking up to that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “But I guess now we know what she was up to yesterday.”

   “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was fuming,” you recalled with emphasis. “I just can’t help but admire her sass.    I could’ve done without the weird questions, though. I mean, unless you’re a florist or trying to impress someone, a deep-dive into the history of their favourite flower isn’t exactly the most enticing subject.”

   But hearing that made Marcus look extremely nervous, suddenly.

   “She asked you what flowers you like?” he wondered, and he sounded as though this one topic could somehow ruin his life, which of course only made you that much more confused.

   “Yeah, do you know what that’s about?” you asked, subconsciously leaning forwards in the sofa as your curiosity peaked.

   He was sitting across from you, in an identical sofa on the other side of a coffee table, and he’d been leaning forwards the whole time you’d been there.    But he now fell back against the backrest, as if needing to be as far from you as possible.

   “Uh, it’s something she does sometimes. She loves flowers, always has. She’s got the nicest garden you’ve ever seen, and she knows everything about every flower there is.    But she has this… I don’t know… insight, maybe? Don’t ask me how the flowers are involved, cause I’ve been trying to figure that out my entire life, but she somehow just knows shit. She asks about your favourite flower and whatever response you give, it tells her something more than what you’ve actually said. Almost like it… connects her to you.    I honestly don’t know if it’s an ability or just her extensive understanding of both people and flora, but whatever it is, as far as I know, she’s only ever used it to-...”

   He cut himself off then, as if he’d been about to say something wrong, or inappropriate. He’d been looking around the room while he’d spoken, occasionally flickering back to you, but now that his gaze returned to focus fully on you… you could’ve sworn he was blushing.

   “To… what?” you tried to prompt, but he just cleared his throat and adjusted himself in the sofa.

   “Um, that’s not important right now. I’ll talk to her about staying away from you,” he dodged, and you thought about pushing him to answer, but he seemed uncomfortable enough that you decided not to.

   You’d known him long enough by now to know that he rarely avoided a subject unless there was good cause.    Plus, you already knew that any effort he made to keep his mother away from you probably wouldn’t be successful, and that thought brought you back to your original reason for coming here.

   “Hah, good luck with that,” you cautioned with thickly layered sarcasm.

   “What do you mean?”

   “Only that the point of the weird questions was apparently to assess me for a job, which she then hired me for, without telling me anything about it.    Does she even have the authority to hire people? How much pull does she have here?” you questioned, hoping to learn more about the elusive woman.

   But Marcus looked only baffled.

   “Your guess is as good as mine, really. I’ve never known what my mother does here, besides meddle in everything and bark orders at everyone.    She’s not officially employed here anymore, but given how everyone treats her, it’s safe to say she has a lot of power among the Heroics organization. So, if she wants to give you a job, you can be sure they’ll let her.    She didn’t say anything about the position at all? Not even which branch?”

   “Only that I have to be here at 7am tomorrow if I wanna take it, and the assumption I made was that it would mean I’d be working for her.    But I’m not sure about any of this.”

   His office was a surprisingly comfortable room.    The furniture was all wood, either in light colours or just lacquered so the veins and life of the trees could be seen. And while there was a good-sized desk with an ergonomic chair (the only piece of furniture which wasn’t made of wood), those were pushed into a corner, to make room for the two big, soft, moss-coloured sofas in the middle of the space, where you were now seated.

   There was a small potted plant sat in the middle of the coffee table between you. You didn’t know what type of plant it was, but it suited Marcus somehow.    Beautiful leaves, large but somewhat fragile, growing tightly to conceal the surprisingly thick and sturdy stems, and you got the distinct impression that this plant could take a lot more than anyone thought.

   Seeming more nervous again, he got up and rounded the little table to come and sit down next to you instead, and you had a feeling it was mostly to comfort himself. Not that you ever minded his proximity.

   “I really don’t know what this might be about. She’s never wanted or needed an assistant, but I can’t think of anything else she might want you to do,” he pondered, and you leaned back again so you could see him.

   “I’m just an artisan, a craftswoman. I design logo’s, sew and knit, make sculptures and ceramics, the occasional leather or metalworks. Small things for individual buyers, never anything large scale. I’ve never done anything else.”

   “Maybe she thinks we need re-branding,” he offered, probably as a joke, but at this point, you were about ready to believe anything.

   “Have you heard any discussions about something like that?”

   “Nope.”

   “Shit,” you slumped further and closed your eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what to do.”

   Abruptly restless, you opened your eyes again before getting up and starting to pace about the room, still relishing in the fact that you were even able to stand up without assistance.    But you missed the disappointed look on Marcus’ face as you left his side. And before he could object, you launched into a speech about all the things you’d been mulling over in your head while you’d cleaned your house.

   “I mean, she’s right, I need a job. It’s not like my former employer could just wait for me to get better while a third of her entire workforce was missing, with no word on whether or not I’d even be able to come back. She had to replace me; I get that.    It’s just that it’s a very difficult business to get back into, because most of them are small and privately owned and they hire people they know are good and then stick with them. I should know, I’d been with that company for a decade.    And yeah, I’ve played with the idea of maybe trying to start a business of my own, but that’s not easy, especially when I have no experience or training as a business owner or production manager. Not to mention the economics, taxes, legal crap…”

   You sighed into a grunt as you came to a stop behind the sofa across from Marcus and rested your hands on the back of it.    So much of your life still had to change before anything would have a chance to get back to some manner of normal. And it all seemed so big and difficult, and you didn’t want any more of that. You’d had more than enough of difficult to last you the rest of your life.    In that sense, being offered a job out of the blue was a gift. The problem was, you felt like there was a catch, which meant you didn’t trust it.

   “At the same time, I can’t help but feel that working here… Ugh, I don’t know,” you speculated, somehow feeling trapped. “I can’t see how I could possibly do anything here that would make me feel like I was contributing.”

   “Hey, come here, hermosa,” he suggested, patting the seat next to him.

   You brightened a bit, hearing one of his nicknames for you. You’d gotten so used to them in the past three months, the sounds of them felt like home to you now, even though you didn’t speak Spanish, beyond “hola” and “buenos dias”.    Still, you’d never dared to ask him what those names meant. You had guessed the meaning of some of the words you’d heard him say, like “felicidades” when you’d succeeded on the obstacle course, but about the nicknames, you didn’t know if he was calling you something endearing or just practical.

   Rounding the sofa you’d been standing behind, you sat back down not quite next to him, since you weren’t sure how comfortable you could be with him.    During your recovery, he’d been up close and personal with you every day, having to touch various parts of your body to help your muscles heal. But once that had ended, there was no manual for how to behave anymore. No way to know what was appropriate beyond the professional. And it wasn’t like such a thing ever came up in casual conversation.

   Once you’d settled in, he angled himself towards you, and feeling your temperature rise with his closeness, you begged for an interesting subject to pop into your head.    Fortunately, that was when you suddenly remembered the word his mother had called you when she’d spoken to you. Granted, not the most interesting topic ever, but since things were getting more awkward by the second, you decided it was as good a question as any.

   “What does ‘mujer’ mean?”

   “Woman,” he said without pause, and then cocked his head to the side, probably confused by the apparent randomness of the question. “Why do you ask?”

   “Anita called me that.”

   “Yeah, she does that. She still calls me boy. Chico, or hijo if she’s in a good mood.    She claims it’s just her way of calling it like it is, but I suspect in most cases, it’s just because she doesn’t bother to memorize people’s names,” he tutted, which almost made you snicker because it was such a Marcus thing to do.

   But there was another question burning a hole in your brain, and you were too busy fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, trying to decide if you dared to ask, to fully appreciate his adorable little tut.

   “Oh, I see,” you answered generically, while working up the courage. “Um, since we’re on the subject, I was wondering… about hermosa?”

   He responded by smiling that melting smile of his, damned near taking your breath away.

   “It means beautiful,” he softly explained, and something in his eyes turned liquid and hypnotizing.

   Shit. You just had to go there, and now you were blushing like an idiot, not knowing where to look or what to say or how to behave like a normal fucking person.    He seemed only delighted, though.

   “I’d happily call you something in English, if you’d prefer,” he offered, sounding entirely sincere and much too inviting. “Like sweetheart,” he added, barely over a whisper now.

   But you couldn’t look at him, so you didn’t know if he was being flirty or just friendly. If he was saying that he wanted you to be his sweetheart, or that he just wanted to call you that.    You couldn’t tell if your own desires were tainting what you heard to make it sound more involving and romantic than it actually was.    Coming here had been about discussing his mother and the job, not give yourself more opportunities to fall even harder for the guy.

   You had, though. You’d probably fallen for him the moment you’d first heard his voice that day in the med-chamber. Every day since then had been spent in either denial or a continued attempt to confirm that you had no shot with this man.    It had never been this difficult to be around him when you’d been recovering, even though you’d been attracted to him, because there’d been a professional barrier separating you. It was only in the last few weeks when you hadn’t really needed him anymore, it had started getting out of hand.

   Maybe because against all odds, there could be a slim chance he liked you as more than a friend as well. Or perhaps you just needed to know, either way.    For the moment, all you wanted was for the pressing awkwardness to end.

   “Uh… you can call me whatever you like,” you timidly responded, after what seemed like hours.

   “Thank you,” he replied, with a deep kind of rumbling warmth, and suddenly you had to look at him again, had to know what expression could make his voice sound like that.

   Whatever you might’ve imagined, you were totally unprepared for the desire looking back at you. It had you leaning towards him like he was a magnet.    And amazingly, the moment he realized what you were doing, he responded by quickly closing the remaining distance between you, as though he was afraid something would interrupt if he simply sat back and waited for you to get to him.

   His lips were warm and soft as they moulded to yours, eager, but not demanding, his moustache tickling you in the sweetest way. His hands came up to cradle your jaw, holding you to him with the lightest touch, sending flares of tiny electric pulses through your skin.    The rapid sensory overload had your pulse racing and your entire body flushed with the heat of arousal in the blink of an eye.

   To your own shock and disbelief, both clearly dulled by your libido for the time being, a few seconds later you found yourself clambering onto his lap and straddling him. Your own lips being every bit as demanding as his hadn’t been, and your hands rough and craving against his delicate touch.    But if he was surprised, he didn’t show it. His hands quickly found their way to your thighs and up your back instead, making you shiver with pleasure. Then a throaty grunt of a moan escaped him, and he opened his mouth, as if seeking refuge from the heat of his own body, by begging for entry into yours.

   Panting and grinding yourself against him, feeling him harden underneath you, you were suddenly snapped back to reality by the sound of the phone on his desk ringing.    You froze on his lap and pulled back to stare at him, mortified at your own reaction to what had started out as a simple kiss, literally just seconds ago. Your first kiss, no less.    He grinned as he watched your face go from arousal to panic, and his arms closed tighter around you, holding you to him, while you tried to hide your face in your hands.

   “I’m sorry, I have no idea where that came from, I’ve never done anything like this before, I don’t even know what happened…” you fumbled, wishing you could just run from the room and never come back.

   “Do I look uncomfortable to you?” Marcus smirked, obviously not bothered in the least, and quite completely missing the point.

   “No, but I-…” you tried, but he cut you off.

   “Hermosa… you can attack me any time you like. I’ve wanted to be touched by you for a long time,” he said, still grinning happily, totally oblivious to the storm which was churning inside you.

   “You don’t understand. I’m not like this,” you sighed, looking for the right words, and strangely feeling more comfortable talking about it the longer you went. “I’m not… confident, not about sex. I’ve never been the one to instigate, much less push or demand more. I don’t ever do that, it’s not in my nature.”

   Finally realizing that you weren’t just being bashful, but that your own actions were genuinely frightening you, he frowned while softening his grip around you and stroking your back soothingly.

   “Hey, don’t be scared. I’m not in any hurry with you. If you need to understand this before you’re willing to take things further, then that’s what you need to do.    Just… promise me you won’t shut me out. Please?”

   You stared at him, utterly enthralled, your hands drooping down onto his chest while you tried to process the truths behind his words.    That he was willing to take things slow even though you’d just teased him in the worst conceivable way, just so you’d be comfortable with him. But more than that, he obviously wanted to be included, to be a part of your life. Which wouldn’t matter to him unless he was looking for something long term.    Holy shit. You’d just come here to ask for his advice…

   “Y-You are real, right?” you asked him, so staggered by this revelation that you needed to make sure. “This isn’t some perfect fantasy I dreamed up, is it?”

   His smile came back even wider before he answered, and there was a happy little laughter hiding in every syllable.

   “Of course I’m real, sweetheart. You could never dream up someone so dorky.”

   “You’re not dorky,” you countered with conviction, and you guessed that it was probably the stern look on your face which made his laughter blossom.

   “According to Missy, who’s known me a lot longer than you, I am the Superdork of dorks. But I’m apparently also very lovable,” he finished with a wink, finally making you laugh too.

   “That I can agree with. And I’ll promise not to shut you out if you’ll do the same for me.”

   “Somehow, I get the feeling this is one promise that’ll be easer for me to keep than it will be for you. But I promise.”

   “You might be right, but that’s just because I haven’t had any people in my life I could rely on, ever since I was a kid,” you told him, and the mirth cooled a bit.

   You hadn’t told him anything about your family yet, and you didn’t want to, so you were relieved when he didn’t ask about them.

   “In that case, from now on, I’ll consider it my mission to make sure you always know you can lean on me,” he added to his promise, still smiling so warmly.

   “I don’t know how I can ever deserve you, but I sure as shit won’t turn you down,” you smiled back. “Thank you. For this and everything else. And I promise not to shut you out.”

   He just kept meeting your eyes with unflinching focus, and gently caressed your cheek.    You leaned into the warmth of his hand for a moment, but then you suddenly remembered exactly where you were sitting, and your cheeks began to flush under his gentle touch.

   “Um… I should maybe…” you tried, while you started working to move yourself off his lap.

   His grin widened and his eyes turned playful as he realized what you were blushing about, but he quickly offered you a helping hand to make sure you got up with your dignity intact. Thank goodness you’d opted for jeans today, rather than a skirt or dress.    He straightened himself up a bit on the sofa, and you moved to sit down across from him again, taking a breath to try to cool yourself down.

   Then you both visibly flinched when the door abruptly flung open, and Mrs. Moreno appeared on the threshold.    She didn’t even glace in your direction, keeping her eyes on her son, although she most certainly knew you were there, there was no way she didn’t see you in her periphery. But you also got the impression she’d known before even opening the door. Just like you were sure she knew that something… heated, had happened between her son and you.

   You made a mental note to check the room for cameras or microphones later, because that timing was eerily perfect.

   “Honestly, chico, what’s happened to your manners lately? You can’t even be bothered to answer the phone anymore?” she chided, and you stifled a curse trying to spill from your lips as it dawned on you that it had been her calling earlier, also with impeccable timing.

   “Wow, mom. You barge into my office without even knocking, or saying hello, being extremely rude to my guest, and yet, I’m the one with no manners? Really?” Marcus challenged, clearly truly sick of his mother’s meddling.

   She, on the other hand, was apparently immune to his retorts, completely ignoring his challenge as she turned to you instead.

   “I was not expecting you until tomorrow, but since you’re here, we might as well get started,” she declared, and then swept around and left the room while delivering a final command: “Come along, mujer.”

   “Mrs. Moreno, I-…” you tried, but she was already gone, so you sighed and looked at Marcus who just shook his head, still staring after her. “She’s the one who called? That timing was-…”

   “Don’t even go there,” he cut you off, cautioning you. “She’s omniscient, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

   You looked towards the open doorway and felt yourself frown, although if it was out of confusion or frustration you couldn’t tell.

   “I don’t know if I wanna go after her. I haven’t even decided if I want the job.”

   “Don’t let her push you around, sweetheart. If you want to take the time to think about it, you have every right to,” he reminded you, and you turned your head back to meet his gaze, scrunching your nose up at him in a childish manner.

   “I think I prefer hermosa,” you declared, which brought his grin back, but before he could reply, you heard Anita shout after you from further down the corridor. “On the other hand, I can always resign from a job I’ve already taken, so I could go find out just what it is she wants me to do, and if I don’t like it, at least I’ll know.”

   You sighed with equal parts irritation and sulkiness, then you got up and he mirrored you, cutting you off from leaving by stepping in front of you and taking your hands.

   “Remember, whatever happens, I’m here. If you need anything I’ll be there, and if you can’t find me, call me,” he reassured you, letting his hands slide up your arms and come to rest at the top of your shoulders, before he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

   “Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent of him, hoping to bring it with you for extra strength.

   Then Mrs. Moreno shouted again, louder this time, making you growl as you stepped around Marcus to follow her down the corridor.

   “If I haven’t called within the next two minutes, you can go ahead and officially declare me a saint.”

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 16: Hunters Three

Another day

Another chapter

Another spoiler warning for the whole Wheel of Time series

This chapter has the lion of Andor icon because we're dealing with the modern generation of the royal family!

Elayne stood in front of the fireplace, arms crossed beneath her breasts and eyes red at least partly from anger.

Lemme get this over with and then I'll probably ignore it unless I don't: where else is she going to put her arms, Mr. Jordan? Above her breasts? Alongside them?

She flushed furiously and banished the image from her mind, willed him to look away from her face.

Really at this point Galad probably at least subconsciously avoids looking at women who are too flustered around him, if he isn't very much aware of what their motivations are and is deliberately avoiding their eye out of kindness.

And after what we went through just to be here, we deserve some explanation of where you’ve been. I would rather let Galad thump me all over the practice yard all day than face Mother again for a single minute.

It's a shame that none of what Morgase must have said about Prince of the Sword and protecting Elayne on the throne and all that must have stuck in the slightest because if it had we all could have been spared a great deal of grief.

The White Tower has become a dangerous place. There have been deaths—murders—with no real explanations. Even some Aes Sedai have been killed, though they have tried to keep that quiet. And I have heard rumors of the Black Ajah, spoken in the Tower itself.

Reading their literature is of course the major reason why Galad joins the Whitecloaks, but I think another part of it is his very simplistic morality being so shaken up by his time in the Tower. Arriving when the place is at its closest to the viper's den the Whitecloaks accuse it of being has to leave a terrible influence on a person.

“You owe her that much, Elayne. You owe me that much. Burn me, you’re being as stubborn as stone. You’ve been gone for months, and all I know about it is that you’ve run afoul of Sheriam. And the only reasons I know that much are because you’ve been crying and you won’t sit down.” Elayne’s indignant stare said he had squandered whatever momentary advantage he might have had.

Gawyn is I think trying to be a good brother but he really can't help but act in that immature kiddy way. Morgase's focus on raising Elayne correctly for the throne seems to have left her boys both ill-equipped for the real world. Another nice flip on gender norms.

Nynaeve returned his smile. “One,” she said.

Oh Nynaeve why are you the best?

“Egwene,” Galad said, “you know that you, especially, can call on me at any time, for anything. I hope you know that.”

Again I think this is setting up for the ending that got discarded along the way because at no point does Egwene ever call in this favor and it feels like she was meant to.

Elayne, if you wish, I can make a salve that will soothe you.

I think this is probably the first time Nynaeve has offered to do such a thing. It's almost certainly because she doesn't think their being punished is remotely fair.

“Of course not, you fool, the way you stare at Galad until your eyes look ready to fall out of your face.” Egwene’s cheeks felt hot, but she was afraid it might well be true.

It's definitely true, Egwene. And hilarious.

“I would rather not talk about that,” Egwene said awkwardly. She did not like lying to Elayne. “She did not say anything that was pleasant.”

Note how Egwene's behavior in this instance is similar to the stuff about Galad that Elayne can't stand. She very much doesn't want to disobey the Amyrlin, won't lie to Elayne about it, and freaks out when Nynaeve wants to.

We need someone with us who they do not know about, and if she isn’t known to the Amyrlin, either, so much the better. I am not sure we can trust the Amyrlin much further than the Black Ajah. She means to use us for her own ends. I mean to see she doesn’t use us up. Can you understand that?

It's a good notion Nynaeve, but I feel like Elayne - the girl everyone now associates with you two, BA or not, is perhaps not the best choice for this secrecy thing? Of course, there really isn't anyone else you can trust.

Seven hundred years ago, at the Battle of Cuallin Dhen, the Andormen were being routed when Queen Modrellein rode, alone and unarmed, carrying the Lion banner into the midst of the Tairen army. The Andormen rallied and attacked once more, to save her, and won the battle. That is the kind of courage expected of the Queen of Andor.

For all of the absolute stupidity of Elayne running around with a weapon in the Last Battle, Queen Modrellein's tactic seems far more stupid. If you're going to ride into battle, learn some kind of weapon! Don't use suicide maneuvers for points!

“There is something else, too,” Nynaeve said. “I am afraid the Amyrlin may mean to let Mat die.”

Real great work on inspiring your allies, Siuan. Just imagine now what might have happened if they had legitimately tried to save Mat and failed - Nynaeve would never forgive any of them. Mesaana wouldn't have time to tear the tower apart.

Mat is just a tool, in the Amyrlin’s eyes. So are we. She will use us to hunt the Black Ajah, but if you break a tool so it cannot be fixed, you don’t weep over it. You just get another one. Both of you had best remember that.

It's an especially important lesson for Egwene, since the high-ranking Aes Sedai want her to be their tool later on... and to a degree, Siuan does too at that point.

“Oh, if we are going to do it,” Elayne said, climbing off the bed, “let’s do it. The longer we talk of it, the more frightened I will become. Mat is in the guest rooms. I do not know which one, but Sheriam told me that much.”

"Yeah we could all three of us die or burn each other out or get corrupted by the metaphysically complex evil of Shadar Logoth, but if we stay in this room another second Elaida might show up and that would be wor- Ah crap here she is."

Next time: No seriously, here she is!

[bookdragonwrites]

ooo perhaps this bit from "all seems lost"?:

"His eyes open to a place he doesn’t know, a man he doesn’t recognise. The man’s clothes are dirty, blood-stained, and torn beyond repair. His eyes are purple. When the man opens his mouth in apparent surprise, there are fangs. A vampire. He fears vampires. He must fight. Damn it, where are his knives? He must flee, then, but his limbs won’t cooperate.

‘When you say, “I’ll live”, that usually means, “I came very fucking close to not living”, so don’t give me any of your drivel about how you’re fine, really.’

Noé carrying him. Vanitas fails to be annoyed about this being necessary.

‘Instead, Noé nearly died. I don’t recall you doing anything to prevent that.’

The air smells sweet. There’s a wildflower by the roadside. It’s the same colour as Noé’s eyes. How painfully sentimental of him to notice that.

‘I’m Noé. We’re friends. I won’t hurt you, I swear it.’

Noé asleep in their hotel room in Paris, his sheets kicked into disarray, drool leaking onto his pillow. An idiot even when he’s unconscious. The Vanitas of the past looks on fondly, thinking that if he isn’t careful, he might just —"

I’m sorry it took me so long to write out my thoughts, but let’s get this show on the road, dear anon.

[note for everyone else: this is from All Seems Lost, a short companion piece to And They Lived (ATL hereafter)]

I wrote All Seems Lost in something of a hurry, because I had the idea for it not long before I was set to publish the chapter of ATL to which it is a companion. As a result, I had to tinker with it a bit after I posted it, and I’m still not super-duper happy with the whole thing. Nevertheless, I do actually quite like the extract you sent me.

I find Vanitas’s point of view quite difficult to write. He’s an angry, sharp, purposely contradictory man, and it’s so hard to get a read on what’s going on with him in canon. Who knows what he’s thinking, or what he means, or how he feels about anything or anyone? It’s hard to get him to engage with emotions!

One thing that’s clear to me, though, is that he does care. He cares a lot. Especially where Noé is concerned. And that’s where I tried to put the focus in the sequence of memory snippets this extract is from. Originally, I wrote them all in chronological order, but that seemed rather flat, because they covered so many different moments in a rather disconnected way. So I wondered where the focus should be, then. If not chronologically, how should I order them? What’s important to Vanitas as he’s reliving these moments? What’s his subconscious trying to tell him? What’s he been suppressing, all this time? And the answer became kind of obvious: he’s dwelling on Noé, and all the ways just about everything in his life has started to revolve around, of all people, an Archiviste.

He’s resisting it with all he has, and yet, in the back of his mind, he’s thinking about Noé constantly. And in this fic, he’s so tired, so lost, so close to giving up on everything, that those thoughts manage to break through his defences. Given that context, what’s the story these memories are trying to tell him? I put the memories that have little or nothing to do with Noé at the beginning – to lull Vanitas into a false sense of security, perhaps – and then I moved onto the memories that have Noé in them, but they aren’t strictly about him. From there, the fragments grow more and more emotionally charged, until they end with a partial scene from months ago. That’s where we were going all along, it turned out: look, Vanitas, you’ve cared for him for so long, why do you keep pretending you don’t? Turns out Vanitas can’t handle that question yet, so he finally manages to put his barricades back up. Still, a seed of wondering has been planted.

Now let’s take a look at some bits in detail.

His eyes open to a place he doesn’t know, a man he doesn’t recognise. […]A vampire. He fears vampires. He must fight. Damn it, where are his knives? He must flee, then, but his limbs won’t cooperate.

This, I think, is fairly straightforward (if you’ve read ATL, that is). He’s waking up after yet another fit, and he’s extremely disoriented. This is the only time in the ATL-verse that we get Vanitas’s perspective on what it’s like when that happens, and that’s why I thought it’d be interesting to include here. It’s a moment of complete terror, and Vanitas pretty much always falls back on aggression when he’s afraid. It’s also the first memory in the sequence that has Noé as the main focus, but it’s more detached than the ones that come after. Noé is the bad guy here, an enemy, a stranger. I thought that would be an interesting perspective to include.

‘When you say, “I’ll live”, that usually means, “I came very fucking close to not living”, so don’t give me any of your drivel about how you’re fine, really.’

Next, we get Vanitas scolding Noé for acting like his injuries don’t matter. He knows who Noé is, but he’s angry with him. It’s coming from a place of caring about Noé’s well-being, of course, but Noé is still a little bit the bad guy, at least from Vanitas’s perspective. Also, it’s kind of a thesis statement for ATL as a whole: these idiots just do not care enough about their own well-being, because they’re too busy protecting each other.

‘Instead, Noé nearly died. I don’t recall you doing anything to prevent that.’

More scolding, this time in defence of Noé. Vanitas being protective of Noé warms my heart, so it had to be included.

The air smells sweet. There’s a wildflower by the roadside. It’s the same colour as Noé’s eyes. How painfully sentimental of him to notice that.

Vanitas has a soft side? Say it ain’t so! Seriously, though, the flower by the road is the image that stuck with me the most from this fic. Noé is something of a wildflower himself: artless, hardy, happy to grow wherever he can get the basic necessities, always ready to cheer up a weary traveller with his simple beauty, yet easily trampled by a careless foot. There is also the contrast between the innocent, cheerful flower and the horrors they both went through that day. I thought would be quite interesting to highlight that, because he did in fact take the time to notice that the world isn’t completely awful, and usually that’s Noé’s job.

Noé asleep in their hotel room in Paris, his sheets kicked into disarray, drool leaking onto his pillow. An idiot even when he’s unconscious. The Vanitas of the past looks on fondly, thinking that if he isn’t careful, he might just —

I mean. Yeah. Vanitas, my honey, my sweetie pie, my darling, you have been in love with this man for months and months, and living in denial is not going to work forever. And I could not resist shoving it in his face, because I am very mean. Also, there’s just something about Vanitas’s fond exasperation that gives me the warm fuzzies.

—

As I was writing this commentary, I noticed an irony I hadn’t even intended: normally, it’s Noé, as an Archiviste, who’s closely associated with memories. In this fic, though, it’s Vanitas who’s dragged down into memories (his own, but still), looking on and powerless to change anything. I’m not quite sure what that means, thematically, but I think there’s something there to consider.

———

Thank you very much for the ask, anon! I hope this was a satisfying deep-dive!

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ruki Ecstasy [04]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the living room of the Sakamaki Castle

Ruki: ...

Yui: ( ...Ruki-kun looks kind of distressed. I wonder if he’s feeling under the weather? )

*Cling* 

*Splash*

Ruki: ...!

Yui: ( I can’t believe he knocked over his cup. ...He really isn’t acting like himself. )

Are you alright? I’ll wipe it clean, okay?

Ruki: ...Yeah, my bad.

Yui: ...Hey, why not go get some rest? 

Ruki: No, I can still manage. 

Why don’t you head to bed if you’ve got nothing else to do? 

Yui: ...We’re talking about you right now, not me.

Ruki: ...I can’t keep my focus here. I’m going back to my room. ...Don’t follow me.

Yui: Eh!? ...S-Sure...

( But I’m worried. I believe that he might be pushing himself...What should I do? )

Selection

→ Watch him leave (M)

Yui: ...

( I probably shouldn’t follow him after he was so clear with his message. )

Be careful on your way there, okay?

Ruki: Yeah...

ー Ruki walks away

Yui: ( ...I can’t help but be worried, so I suppose I’ll secretly follow behind to his room afterwards. )

→ Follow him to his room (S)

Yui: ...Won’t you let me walk you to your room after all? 

Ruki: No, it’s fine. No need to show unnecessary concern.

Yui: But...

Ruki: I said it’s fine. ...Don’t make me repeat myself.

ー Ruki walks away

Yui: ( Seems like I upset him a little. But I’m worried...I’ll wait a few minutes then head to his room. )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( I made it to right in front of his room but...I’m pretty sure he’ll immediately tell me to leave if I were to knock on the door. )

( ...I’m sorry, Ruki-kun. I’m going to just take a small peek inside. )

ー She quietly opens the door

Yui: ( Huh? It’s pitch-black inside...Could he be asleep already? )

( In that case, I should leave before I wake him up. )

Ruki: What are you doing?

Yui: Wah?

ー Ruki turns on the light

Ruki: I can’t believe you’d try and sneak inside my bedroom while I’m not around...Oh well, if that’s what you wantーー 

*Rustle* 

Ruki: I changed my mind. I’ll give you some attention. ...Come here.

Yui: Eh?

ー Ruki pins her down

Yui: Kyah!

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Ruki-kun? What are you...?

Ruki: ...Allow me to leave red marks, all across this nape of yours...Nn. 

Yui: ...!

Ruki: ...You really can’t look past it.

Are you happy...to be marked as mine?

Yui: Well...

Ruki: Are you hesitating because you’re dissatisfied? Or perhaps...You’re trying to tell me that you want more? ...Heh.

Then want me to make flowers bloom across your entire body...?

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ...W-Wait...!

*Creaak* 

Ruki: Fufu...You give me some rather nice reactions...

Not bad. Show me even more...of that disheveled side...

Yui: ...! I...can’t do that...

Ruki: Maybe you should just let your body speak for itself instead of saying such boring things?

Yui: Eh...?

Ruki: Those tempting noises you make subconsciously...Let me hear plenty of those.

Nn...Nnh...Hah...

Yui: Ah!

( He suddenly bit me, I couldn’t help but let a sound slip... )

Ruki: Heh...Perfect. Win me over even more...with those shameless cries of yours...

Yui: ( This is embarrassing but...I can’t hold my voice back... )

( Still, I’d much rather have him yearn for me like this than get pushed away so...I’ll continue feeling his weight pressing down on me for now. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[loveinhawkins]

If you’re still taking DVD commentary asks: I love what you said in your other response, about how a Steve POV would be hard because he’s not as honest with himself as Eddie. I’m curious what Steve’s thoughts are re: what’s happening between him and Eddie? It’s clear from Eddie’s perspective he’s embracing his feelings for Steve. And Steve is not unaware of what’s going on (how many times can you tenderly caress your bro to soothe him to sleep before it’s no longer considered Bro Behavior) but what’s going on in his head?

oh i always love taking dvd commentary asks! & this one relates perfectly into part of a scene in the upcoming chapter so gives me an excuse to ramble out some thoughts while i get it ready ❤️

so yeah, from eddie’s pov i think he’s fully accepted the fact that he’s falling/has fallen in love with Steve—but he’s almost, like, side-stepped really acknowledging those feelings because he’s so caught up in the fact that Steve has survived, that he’s going to be okay. so to him it’s more that: oh yup. Shit, that’s a thing. Well it’s not gonna happen obviously & i’m more than happy to live with that, to have him as a friend, because thank god he’s alive. so he’s almost silently told himself that anything more is an impossibility. so yeah, he can care for Steve, he can adore him, he can even slip out a couple of “Sweetheart”s without fully meaning to & that has to be enough—as long as Steve is safe, in eddie’s eyes it will be enough.

imo Steve is still figuring himself out in certain ways—him & Eddie may or may not have a conversation that might make some things a bit clearer (i say vaguely lol sorry) but yeah, exactly, Steve isn’t unaware of his feelings. in my head it’s kinda implicit that in this version of events, steve’s conversation with Nancy about his dream did not happen, but that Eddie telling him that Nancy diving into the lake was an act of true love did. & with regards to a Steve pov being hard cause he’s not as honest with himself… in that same way i feel like Steve finds it much easier to analyse Eddie and realise Some Things rather than directly analysing himself, if that makes sense? like him fondly watching Eddie & declaring “Got you all figured out, Eddie Munson” & “If any of us was going to be a romantic, it’d be you” is much easier than trying to figure himself out; him being baffled by Eddie believing he had a crush on a girl in their English class (“What is it with you and—never mind”*) is easier to focus on than unpacking why he’s getting hung up on the misperception, you know?

*in my head Steve’s also referring to Eddie initially pushing him & Nancy together here—he’s like, dude, why do you keep trying to pair me off with some girl? why is this bugging me so much? …oh. Oh, okay. Yeah.

but while Steve’s still working through some things, i think he also keeps growing more and more aware of how he’s falling in love with Eddie; him saying “what if I want to keep looking at you?”, while he’s exhausted, is still half an attempt at flirting (good try, Steve!) & him saying “You just stayed… you were so… lovely.” is imo the closest either have got to admitting oh, I’m in love with you out loud.

so yeah, both of them have probably had inklings of feelings right back at the fic’s opening—Eddie’s initially overwhelmed by grief because god, I think I just figured out that I want to know you, want to love you and now I’ve lost you. And then Steve’s journey of awareness is really given a shove by almost dying because shit, life’s too short and I really want to figure this out. Like that he almost owes it to himself, to allow himself to be happy? In that sense & in this fic i also view Steve’s line in the show to Robin that “I still have hope” to be partly him looking over at Eddie and subconsciously realising that there’s Something There. but then he sees the clock & has to come to terms with the increasing possibility of that hope being lost.

request some “dvd fic commentary”

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

alphabet boy

SYNOPSIS: You should feel extremely lucky that the handsome and intelligent Armin Arlert is your tutor...even when he's a little mean to you. Because that's your fault, isn't it? He wouldn't have to be mean if you weren't so damn stupid.

PAIRING: Armin x FEM!Reader

DEDICATED TO: armin fuckers. non armin fuckers, i hope i can convert you.

TW: dubcon touching, manipulative behavior, gaslighting, academia shaming,

WC: 1.8k

“Maybe you’re not cut out for this class.”

He said it so casually, a comment spoken between the flip of textbook pages. You couldn’t shake off the undeniable hurt.

“I-Uhm, uh, yeah I have to study a lot...but I like this class. It was a pain to get off the waitlist.” You keep your voice optimistic and light, hoping to mask the offense taken.

You don’t know why Armin would say that, but maybe he was just being logical...he’s seen you struggle, of course, he’d think the class was too hard for you.

The blond sighs, closing his novel that he brought with him while he waited for you to finish your practice problems.

“You can barely keep up with the weekly homework assignments. You didn’t even hand in your assignment last week, right? Better drop out now before the add and drop deadline.” His voice is soft and cold at the same time. It’s unnerving.

You tuck your hair behind your ears, eyes set low, too ashamed to meet your tutor’s. Armin had been your tutor for the past few weeks now, and you thought it was going pretty well. He was so so smart that you couldn’t help but be a little starstruck. He was handsome too, short-cropped blond hair, wide blue eyes, with a wardrobe that was composed of slacks and sweaters.

Usually, he was always overly polite and charming. You could make countless mistakes and his patience was endless. He had some off-days where he was a little withdrawn and quiet. You never held it against him though, knowing he had no obligation to make idle chatter. But sometimes, you could feel his chilly gaze watching you even though he had a book propped open.

“I emailed the professor, he was really chill about it. Last week was really rough for me, you know? I wasn’t feeling well and...”

“You know excuses don’t fly in the real world right? You’re in college now. Professor Ackerman was just being courteous. He probably thinks you’re lazy.” Even though you try not to look at him, you can feel Armin’s azure blues burn holes into you. There was this quiet intensity about him that made you worry about when the restraints would come off.

Armin can’t help but let condescension drip over his words. Any self-respecting person would defend themselves, but not you. Not when you’re already broken by your own insecurities that make it that much easier for him to trample on.

He can already see pearly-sheened tears leaking from the corner of your hopeless eyes. How cute. You part your pretty little mouth to say something, but no words come out. You close your mouth soon enough, looking every bit like a dumb little airhead.

So he continues: “You know your classmates learned all the first few chapters from high school right? You’re the only one starting fresh.” He moves closer, elbows inching closer to infiltrate your little personal-space bubble, knees knocking into yours under the desk.

More tears form under your lower lashes, and Armin mentally counts the crystal droplets. You’re recoiling into yourself like a shrinking violet which only encourages Armin to go just a little farther.

“You don’t even have your major picked out yet. This is a core class for your classmates, you know. You’re wasting your-no, everyone’s time.”

Not wanting to cry in front of your tutor, you rub your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, fully aware of how utterly pathetic you look right now.

In a small voice, you manage to utter, “I have a right...to be in this class. Even though I’m slow now, I think with some decent amount of studying...I’ll catch up. Even if I’m not-” you take a deep breath, “as quick as my classmates, I still really enjoy what I learn. And..and...I think at the end of the day, that’s what really matters!”

Armin scoffs, “Do you really like the class or are you staying for Ackerman? God knows how many fangirls he’s had to put up with.”

Even as he spoke those words, Armin knew it wasn’t entirely true. You admired the man zealously and had read all of his published papers. Honestly, your admiration had always annoyed him.

You wince at the insinuation but you could feel the anger simmering in your gut, “You have no right to imply that! Wh-why-” Your voice breaks, “are you being so mean?”

Armin thinks you’re so cute, the way you jut out your bottom lip. So cute and pathetic. The corners of his lips quirk upwards. It’s almost endearing how you say “mean” like it’s the worst thing a person can be.

“Am I being mean or am I being realistic?” The blond coos, “I’m your tutor, right? I know the best for you.”

He takes your silence as an invitation to goad you harder: “You’re only upset because I’m telling you what you don’t want to hear.”

You don’t notice the proximity until Armin lays his hand over yours, squeezing the soft flesh of your palms. His voice is gentle as he reassures you: “Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

He made you cry, but you don’t have it in you to pull away from the only semblance of comfort given to you. His chair scrapes the floor as he sets it right beside yours, wrapping an arm around you, encouraging you to lean your head against his shoulder.

It’s a little sad but this is probably the most physical contact you’ve gotten in a while. You’re an utter mess, and on top of all that, touch-starved.

You’re still sniffling like a crybaby, trying to sort your own emotions out. You take a few deep breaths and force yourself to face the facts:

You’re behind.

The class is too much work for you.

Armin’s right, you’re upset because he’s telling you what you don’t want to hear.

“D-do you really think I should drop the class?” Your voice is so defeated, a pinch louder than a whisper.

His long fingers play with the ends of your hair, “I know this class is really important to you and we both want you to do well...so why don’t we increase our tutoring sessions? Maybe we should meet three times a week.”

He smiles at you, and it looks so genuine. You’re immensely grateful, you are, but confusion washes over you, “Wow, Uh, that’ll be great actually but um, uni tutoring services is once a week...so-”

Armin dismisses your concerns with a gentle wave of his hands, “Don’t worry, It’ll be off the books. Think of this as private tutoring. Of course, we’ll have to start meeting in my room from now on.”

While he doesn’t elaborate on why you have to meet in his dorm, you assume Armin has a good reason and it probably involves university-sanctioned student-tutor guidelines.

You’re stammering out thank-you’s, still trying to rub the tears out of your eyes until you feel a soft handkerchief wiping them away.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He reassures, “Don’t use your sleeve. It’s too rough for your pretty face.”

You blush under his words, wide eyes locked into his oceanic blues, “I d-don’t know if I’ll be able to compensate you f-for the private tutoring.”

His eyebrows crease as he gives you a smile full of pearly teeth, “You don’t have to worry about that for now.” His hands graze over your knuckles, “We’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you Armin.” You say it so sincerely, trying to muster the biggest smile you can after the blond essentially trampled over your self-esteem to only nurse it back with sweet promises.

“Well, we better finish today’s work then.” He responds calmly, not bothering to detangle himself from you. You can feel his body heat radiating onto you, and how his hand moved to casually rest on your thigh. But that’s normal right? If you think about it, Armin was not exactly adverse to touch. During your past tutoring sessions, his hand would always be on the small of your back or shoulders.

“Hey, you’re not getting distracted again, are you?” His voice is playful like he isn’t sliding his hand up and down the span of skin between your skirt and tights. When you don't respond, he pinches your inner thigh, eliciting a startled gasp from you.

"Focus." It's a demand so it must be followed.

Embarrassed, you nod your head and return your focus to the problem sets even though your hands are shaky as you grip the ballpoint pen.

You don’t notice how the blond’s eyes gleam under the fluorescent lighting at your easy compliance. He’s always liked obedient girls.

Your thighs are growing warmer, and it doesn’t help to have Armin peering over you. Still, you try your best to lull yourself to focus until a ringtone breaks your concentration.

Armin breaks away from you to find his phone and you find your body subconsciously missing the warmth. He lightly curses under his breath once he sees the contact name, but answers nonetheless.

“Yeah...sorry babe. I forgot. I’ll be right over.” He sounds apologetic but he looks downright bored.

And like that, the call is over. He looks over at you with an apology falling from his lips, “Sorry about that. I forgot I had something to do today. We’ll end early.”

Your throat is dry as you ask, “Was that your girlfriend?” You regretted your words the moment they escaped. That was none of your business. It doesn’t matter if he was holding you earlier. He was doing so because you were bawling like a baby. But why did he touch your thighs?

That doesn’t have to mean anything, you rationalize. Besides, Armin would never make a move on you. He was a handsome senior with a perfect GPA and a powerful position in the student government. Stupid freshman girls like you are not worth the time he so generously gives out.

The blond smirks, seeming to notice your internal struggle, “Something like that. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure she won’t distract me from our future sessions.”

That was a puzzling comment. His girlfriend supposedly distracting from your study time wasn’t even a concern you held.

“No, no, that’s ok.” You quickly assure, “You’ve already helped me out so much.”

The blond pats the top of your head like you were a puppy, “I’d do anything for my cute little student.”

The way your face heats up with a dark blush should be criminal. All he did was pat your head, and you’re looking at him starry-eyed like he didn’t grope your thighs under the table. Honestly, all your cute little blubbering had gone straight to his cock. Annie would have to handle his big problem.

These private sessions are going to be fun.

part I ---- complete

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Meant To Be ~ 12

MEANT TO BE MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,025ish

Summary: The aftermath of Y/N knowing the truth begins.

Notes: I promise that I will end this series on a happy note. You’ll just have to suffer through some angst to get there. Hopefully this chapter isn’t too terrible!

Tony finally re-entered the building, clearly soaking wet and deflated. As he walked down the hallway, he was stopped by Stark Industries board member, Obadiah Stane.

“Where have you been Tony?” The man asked. “Both you and Miss L/N missed the merge announcement.”

Tony looked at Obadiah. “You knew that Y/N didn’t know about the merge, didn’t you? Yet you still went along with it.”

“Tony, the merge is good for both of the companies. We all know that. Y/N will see that eventually. You just need to give it time.”

“You’re fired.”

Obadiah chuckled. “Sorry, what?”

“You’re fired. I don’t care what Howard’s will states, my lawyers will figure it out. But you’re off my board.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

Obadiah marched off. Tony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the wall.

“Tony?” Rhodey asked as he walked up to his friend. “Are you wet? What’s going on? Where’s Y/N?”

“She found out, Rhodes,” Tony whispered. “She found out and ran off. She’s gone.”

~~~

“She’s been gone for too long,” Tony fretted. 

Tony was pacing in one of the side rooms of the building that the gala had been hosting in. His tie and suit coat were thrown over a chair and his shirt’s top 3 buttons were undone. The gala wrapped up about an hour after Y/N had walked off, that was three hours ago. Tony was freaking out, but no one would let him go after Y/N, afraid that he would just make it worse.

“Rhodey, his friends, Wanda, and Happy, are all out looking for her,” Pepper tried to comfort. “They’ll find her.”

“This is all my fault. If I had just been honest with her from the start, none of this would be happening.” Tony stopped and turned to face Pepper. “I need to be out there searching for her. It’s still raining! And if she’s still out there, then she’s definitely caught something! She could get sick and… I can’t even say it…”

“Tony,” Pepper stood up and rested her against on his arms, “Y/N’s going to be okay. She probably slipped into a bar.”

“Yeah… yeah… you’re probably right, I just… I love her so much, Pep.”

“I know… and, from what you said, she loves you too. That doesn’t just go away over night.”

“She told me that all that loving me has done is hurt her… all I do is hurt her…”

“And yet, even after all this time, she still loves you.” Tony looked away causing Pepper to sigh. “You’re going to figure this out, Tony.”

~~~

Y/N honestly didn’t know how long she had been walking. She was at the point where she was numb, not even noticing the rain pouring down on her. Her arms were folded across her body, subconsciously trying to keep herself warm. She was clearly out of it and only kept going because she knew that if she stopped, she’d just fall down to the ground.

“Y/N?” A voice called out from a rolled down window of a car. The car had pulled up to the curb and was slowly following Y/N. “Y/N? Come on, get in the car.”

Y/N could hear the voice but was unable to recognize it’s owner or really stop herself from walking. The car stopped and the person jumped out of the car. The quick footsteps splashed in the puddles of water on the sidewalk.

“Y/N,” Bucky called as he came into view. He stood in front of her, stopping her from walking anymore. “You’re soaked, doll.” His hands came up to cup her face to try and get Y/N to focus on him. “Shit. You’re both cold and hot. We’ve got to get you back and inside. Everyone’s worried about you.” Bucky moved so that he was beside Y/N to guide her to his car. They barely took a step before Y/N’s knees gave out. “Woah there.” Bucky kept her up against him. “I’ve got you.” 

Keeping one arm around her back, Bucky leaned down and put his other arm under her knees and picked her up. He carried her back to his car, carefully setting her in the back seat and buckling her up. Y/N immediately began shivering. Bucky quickly took of his suit coat and laid it over her before getting into the drivers seat. As he drove away, he called Rhodey.

“Barnes! Have you found her?” Rhodey wondered.

“I found her,” Bucky replied.

Rhodey let out a sigh of relief. “How is she?”

Bucky glanced back at Y/N using the rear view mirror. “Honestly, I think I’m going to have to take her to the hospital.”

“Do it. I’ll let everyone else know and we’ll meet you there.”

The phone call ended and Bucky drove straight to the hospital. He parked before coming around and picking Y/N up to bring her inside. He grimaced at the way she was shivering and pushing into him for warmth. When he got inside, Bucky quickly explained to the nurse at the front desk the situation. The nurse guided them back to a room and told Bucky that he’d have to wait out in the waiting room while they get Y/N situated. When he entered the waiting room, Tony, Pepper, and the others were rushing in.

“Where is she?!” Tony was frantic. “Is she okay?!”

“I just took her back there,” Bucky explained. “The nurses and doctors are taking care of her.”

“What happened?”

“Y/N had clearly been walking in the rain and cold since she left the gala. She was… out of it. Just dazed and when I got her in the car, she was shivering so bad.”

“She’s going to die…” Tony said, dramatically fall back into a chair. “And it will all be my fault. I—“

“Stop being over dramatic, Tony!” Rhodey exclaimed. “She probably just caught a cold or the flu.”

“Thousands of people die from the flu each year, she could easily—“

“Stop it! Now! Stop with the pity party. No one feels bad for you because you’re the one who messed shit up! You should have been honest with Y/N from the start. None of this would be happening if you would have just been honest with her!”

“I know that Rhodes!” Tony jumped up. “I know that! I’m a failure! A mess up!” Tony huffed, looking away from his friend. “Don’t you get that I know I screwed up? That she may never want to look at me the same way again. If she looks at me at all… I lost the greatest thing in my life.”

“What are you going to do about the merge?” Wanda wondered.

Tony sighed. “Before she walked away, I told Y/N that I’d fix it but she said that it was too late… I don’t think there’s any fixing this.”

“From what I’ve heard from Rhodey, if anyone can fix this, Stark, it’s you,” Steve tried to comfort.

“Though this isn’t the first time his messed up,” Bucky said. “And every time hasn’t been the simplest mess ups.” Natasha punched Bucky in the arm. “Ow!” He gripped his arm. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Miss Y/N L/N’s family,” a nurse called out as she entered the waiting room.

“Yes,” Tony responded as he stepped forward. “That’s us.”

“Miss L/N is warming up great. She can go home in about an hour. We just want to run a few more tests, but she’ll most likely just be fighting a cold for the next few days.”

Tony breathed out in relief. “Oh, good.”

“Will one of you be okay to take her home?”

Everyone looked at Tony. He shook his head and turned away. Rhodey stepped up and put a hand on his friends shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out,” Rhodey said. “Someone will get her home.”

The nurse gave them a small smile and a nod before making her leave.

“So… who’s taking her home?” Bucky asked.

~~~

After it was decided that Rhodey and Wanda would take Y/N home, Tony slipped into Y/N’s room. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying to decided if Y/N was still asleep or not. When he felt it was safe, Tony slowly walked up to the bed and sat in the chair beside it. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…” Tony looked up at the ceiling as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. “I’m sorry that loving me has been nothing but hurtful… I wish that it wasn’t… I’m going to fix this. Even if you never want to see or talk to me again. I’m doing to fix this.” He stood up and leaned over Y/N, carefully pressing his lips to her forehead. “I love you.”

Tony took a long look at Y/N before letting out a little sigh and leaving the room. Rhodey was outside of the room, having had watched the whole interaction.

“I know that you’re mad at me,” Tony said. “And that you’ll probably take Y/N’s side every time now. I don’t blame you. I am going to fix this.”

“You better,” Rhodey said before going into Y/N’s room.

Tony watched as Rhodey took the seat beside Y/N before he walked away. Pepper caught Tony before he could completely leave the hospital.

“What’s the plan?” She asked.

“I don’t really know,” Tony responded. “I know I’ve completely screwed up, but Pep, will you help me fix this?”

“Only if you run every plan by me or Rhodey first. And maybe actually listen and take our advice.”

“Yeah, I think I can do that.”

~~~

Y/N woke up to find Rhodey sitting in the chair beside her hospital bed. He was causally scrolling through his phone, holding a paper coffee cup in his other hand. Rhodey could feel a pair of eyes on him and looked up. He smiled as he noticed Y/N awake.

“Hey there Princess,” he teased.

“Princess?” Y/N questioned. “Hardly think I deserve that nickname.”

“Oh you do. Especially since you walked in the cold rain for hours and oh-so handsome Bucky found you and brought you to the hospital.”

“I’m gonna need to remember to thank him.”

“I don’t know about that. I think it will only inflate his ego more.”

“Good point.”

Rhodey watched as Y/N adjusted herself to sit up more. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m fine, Rhodes. Clearly, I have a cold and my company is merging with Stark’s, but I’m fine.”

Rhodey sighed. “Tony should have told you himself.”

Y/N scoffed. “You think?” Her eyes sought out the window to the hall before finding Rhodey again. “Tell me he’s not here.”

“He was. But he left a few minutes ago.”

“Good. I don’t want to see him.”

“Y/N—“

“Ever.”

“If your companies are going to merge, you’re going to have to.”

“Not if I just sell him the company.”

“Y/N, no. You can’t be serious.”

“Very.”

“It’s your family’s legacy. It’s… It’s Grandmother’s legacy.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “I can’t be forced to see Tony at work everyday. To be business partners. Not after all this.”

“You could call off the merge.”

“And what? Tell everyone the truth? That I was blindsided? No one would ever trust me or my company again if we backed out of a deal with Stark Industries. It would ruin the whole company… better to just give it to Stark than ruin it.”

“And how do you plan on telling Tony this if you’re not willing to see or talk to him?”

“My lawyers will inform him as soon as I am well enough to talk to them about it.”

“Y/N…”

She put her hand up. “Please, don’t, Rhodey. This is my decision, okay? He made his and now I have to make hard decisions in response to it.”

“You don’t have to give up the company entirely.”

“It’s my only option.”

next chapter >

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[bakugoukatsuki-rising]

On Death’s Door

Chapter 293 solidified for me that bkdk is always gonna stay winning, no one can ever convince me otherwise at this point. To be fair, you wouldn’t have been able to convince me otherwise before, either. 

But let’s get down and funky with our little gremlin boy and all of his complex emotions relating to Deku, yeah? Cause 293 gave us something phenomenal, and that was Bakugou essentially realizing he had a quirk evolution spurred by the fact that Deku was about to die, and he needed to save him. 

I’m gonna focus on these two first cause they’re the big boys. 

He states that his explosions were never like that before. When he was facing death, about to witness someone so important to him about to die, his power changed. It became faster, stronger, more of what he needed in that moment for him to save Deku. His need to save Deku made his quirk stronger, and it was because it was Deku. 

“Like being on Death’s Door” 

That’s the line to beat, folks. Bakugou wasn’t at death’s door in that moment, Deku was. So then why would Bakugou feel that way? 

“In total crisis”

A crisis indeed, but for who? Again, Bakugou wasn’t the one in imminent danger, but just witnessing Deku about to die made him feel like he was. It was enough to make him feel like he, himself, was on the brink of death.

Because one can’t exist without the other. Just as Deku can’t envision a world without Bakugou, we now know that Bakugou can’t envision a world without Deku. So much so, that he threw his body in the way to make sure Deku didn’t die. He would have rather ended up the one dead, than to have a world without Deku in it. 

And on top of all of this, now we have Bakugou CONSCIOUSLY CHOOSING TO REMEMBER THAT MOMENT in order to gain that strength from before. That desperation and urgency.

We went from a boy who couldn’t comprehend anything other than the desire to win, to having him act without thinking to save Deku, to now CONSCIOUSLY CHOOSING to put himself out into harms way in order to save someone else that he cares about. 

Because remember, Bakugou is close to fatally wounded. In fact, if he keeps it up, the situation could end up really dicey, as much as I don’t want to think about it. But he isn’t thinking about that right now, he’s thinking about saving Best Jeanist and the people important to him. 

HE’S THINKING ABOUT SAVING. 

In all of my time spent watching anime and reading manga, I have never encountered a character with such brilliant and beautifully written character growth and development. Horikoshi has done something truly outstanding with Bakugou’s character, and I will forever be grateful for that. 

But it can’t be ignored that the entire reason for this growth and development is DEKU. 

Every way Bakugou has changed and continues to change is because of Deku, and I absolutely refuse to acknowledge anyone that can’t see that. 

Like, we seriously just witnessed this boy have an entire quirk evolution because his feelings for saving Deku were so strong. Do you know how powerful that is? That’s not just ‘oh he’s my rival’ kind of feelings. That is fucking LOVE. 

Say it with me now;

L O V E

And this love for Deku he has is changing him, it’s allowed him to understand how it feels to want to save someone, and he uses the idea of losing Deku as a way to push him forward to do that. Which..in and of itself is so fucking monumental I don’t think I can even properly express how it makes me feel. 

All I know if that we went from this;

Bakugou subconsciously rushing forward in order to save Deku, to this;

CONSCIOUSLY RUSHING FORWARD TO SAVE BEST JEANIST WHILE THINKING OF DEKU IN DANGER IN ORDER TO GAIN THE STRENGTH TO MOVE FORWARD

Mind you, this is all happening within the span of 8 chapters. I don’t know how quickly a lump sum of you want Bakugou to change, but I would think this is pretty damn fast, if you ask me. 

But anywho, my entire point is that Bakugou’s incredibly strong emotional connection to Deku was able to not only cause a quirk evolution for him, but also enough to show him the vitality of needing to save someone. 

And that’s on being in love. (✿◠‿◠) 

[harbingerofsoup]

Chapter 123 (Words I Couldn't Say)

It’s rare that I can pinpoint a favorite chapter in a manga, but I’ve poured over this series like a religious scholar for about two years, so I can confidently state that my favorite is chapter 195. Yeah, I know that isn’t the chapter I’m supposed to be talking about, but I’m not going to lie for points. If you search irumeanie on tumblr, a good half of the posts that show up are mine, so there’s really no point in trying to make myself look better. However, I can also state, with equal confidence, that the most important chapter in the series (as of now at 262) is 123, when everything that Iruma had been repressing up to that point can’t be held back any longer and bursts free. I mentioned earlier that the Harvest Festival contains what I believe to be the most emotionally cathartic scene in the series, and this is what I’m talking about. Despite how expressive he is, Iruma really isn’t that open with his feelings. I’ve already discussed how Iruma lacked desire or ambition early on in the series, but there have been other similar incidents such as at Walter Park when it takes several pages for Iruma to understand he’s upset, indicating severe emotional repression. Overcoming this repression is Iruma’s first major step in his overall character arc, which occurs in this chapter (conveniently titled “words I couldn’t say”) meaning that by the end of the Harvest Festival he’s entered a new leg of his journey. And it shows. The Iruma we see post-Harvest Festival is fundamentally different than the one we see before. He voices his desires proudly and is even referred to as having bottomless greed, while retaining his kind nature, which is all possible because of this one chapter.

Orobas has a tricky ability. The initial illusion is bad enough, but the greater the opponent’s trauma is, the higher the likelihood is of having lingering effects in the form of more illusions. Both Jazz and Clara’s experience with Orobas’ illusions only last a few pages and just end with them shaken up. Iruma faces the illusions for almost the entirety of three chapters. After he falls from the shock of seeing his parents and hurting his leg, the illusion shifts, getting closer to his true fear. It starts with Asmodeus and Clara abandoning him for being human, accusing him of lying and basically saying that everything he did was fake. Next, it’s Kalego that appears and tells him that as a human, he doesn’t belong in the underworld. Then finally his grandfather and Opera-san enter, the two demons who originally knew about his identity, who rescued him and gave him the home he never had before. And just like the others, they send him back to his parents too. It’s not just one more illusion. He sees at least four, not counting the horrific monsters that the illusions eventually shift into. What Iruma is facing is 14 years of non-stop trauma with the added fear that the relief he only just got from it will be ripped away from him.

Trapped in his worst nightmare, Iruma is forced to confront the feelings he’s been trying to hide his whole life. He spent his whole childhood alone without any meaningful connections and was fine with it because all he could do was focus on survival. Reading between the lines, what Iruma is saying is that he convinced himself his feelings didn’t matter, and he did this for so long that even when he found a loving home, he subconsciously continued to keep his true emotions buried, hardly recognizing them in himself. But, faced with the prospect of losing everything he’s gained, of returning to that unending isolation, Iruma can’t stop himself from breaking his self-imposed rule.

“I’m lonely.” For all his complexity as a character, Iruma can be broken into just these two words. Everything he’s been repressing and everything that’s driven him thus far in the story is encapsulated by the intense loneliness he lives with, and it’s delivered in the two most heart wrenching panels. No amount of danger is going to make him give into despair, his defense is too well trained, but the threat of losing everything while completely isolated breaks him instantly. He could ignore it when he had nothing to lose, but now there’s so much he wants to hold onto that he can’t handle being alone again. And that brings us back to Iruma’s desire to belong. He voices this desire a few different ways, from embarrassing to grandiose, but the true feelings behind it boils down to what he say in that second panel. The sense of belonging he yearns for stems from his fear of being left behind, tragically demonstrated by the focus pulling out to show his curled form, looking tiny in the large open space. It’s shown that his parents left him alone all the time until they needed him again, so it’s only natural that from the very depths of his soul, Iruma would fear his newfound family and friends no longer wanting him, but he also feels like he shouldn’t voice this fear, which ended up amplifying that aching loneliness.

Ultimately though, this is a hopeful series, and one final illusion of Bachiko reminds Iruma of what he learned during his training. Technically, this panels are from chapter 124, but it’s a continuation of chapter 123, and the positive parts of this series are just as important to cover as the negative. It’s important that Iruma didn’t give into despair. He remembers his training as an archer, and that he can pierce through all his hardships, so he stands up even as he’s still in tears and his leg is killing him, because all he wants is to stay with the people he cares about.

<prev | next>

[sokkalore]

Would you perhaps want to list your favorite xie lian simping for hua cheng moments? Like we all know HC is a major simp but XL honestly is too and I love it

this ask makes me so happy that i decided to dedicate an entire highlight color to annotations of characters acting like whores . ok here we go.

xie lian's obsession with hua cheng's legs, hands, etc. this starts even before he sees hua cheng's face, in any form:

"Those black leather boots were wrapped tight, and going upwards there were a pair of long and slender legs, looking extremely beautiful as they walked." this is chapter 8.

in chapter 16 hua cheng just. picks up a bag of junk and walks away with it and, "He watched as the lanky youth walked away with his giant bag of junk as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world, and it made him mutter 'forgive my sins' inwardly."

when they're actually in the banyue arc properly: "Xie Lian turned to see San Lang striding with his lithe long legs towards him." like we get it bestie we get it.

he also describes hua cheng's hand as, "...long and shapely, clean and elegant, a beautiful hand. It wasn't a vulnerable kind of beautiful, but rather, there was a strength hidden beneath the muscles. It was a hand that one wouldn't want to have choking their throat."

physical attraction aside, xie lian is just absolutely obsessed with hua cheng's sense of humor. hua cheng raises an eyebrow and xie lian is like, "he's the funniest person to ever exist." some examples:

when hua cheng lies about the general's tombstone saying everyone should kowtow before it three times just bc they were laughing at the general's death and xie lian is like "why are you so mischievous?" and hua cheng sticks his tongue out and they both share a little giggle

it would take a while to find every example of this but open up to a scene where hua cheng is making fun of someone (probably fx or mq) and you will find xie lian giggling to himself or smiling fondly

xie lian always just wants to be. near hua cheng:

he gets legitimately sad when they're apart for more than like, 48 hours. this happens after the banyue arc, after the qi rong beat down, in the very small space between their ghost city date and them meeting back up again for domestic puqi shrine times, in between mount tong'lu opening and the end of brocade immortal arc like...any time they're separated for a short amount of time (or a year) xie lian is NOT happy about it. clingy!

but even when he is literally with hc, he likes being as close to him as possible. in gambler's den, "Xie Lian was content to just watch from the background, but the moment he heard Hua Cheng's voice, he started trying to push himself through the crowd."

xie lian is constantly grabbing onto hua cheng's hand. to the point that when he instinctually reaches for it post CPR attempt/coffin scene he has to like. shake himself and be like stop. you whore. stop it. that's too much.

the part when pei ming is like hey is it? convenient? to have a red string dangling between the two of you? and xie lian gets legitimately SAD when hua cheng makes it invisible

this ended up more romantic than simping which is what you asked for so. to finish off, a few more moments that i have highlighted purple for whore:

when they're in qi rong's lair and the way xie lian tells us that hua cheng is now in disguise is, "...the one standing next to him wasn't the exceptionally handsome red-clad ghost king he knew,"

every time xie lian gives us a detailed description of hua cheng's widow's peak

in sinner's pit when he describes hua cheng's jawline for like three paragraphs and is only interrupted when ke mo starts yelling

when, in the aftermath of the underwater kiss, xie lian says, "Every time they met, Hua Cheng looked good in different ways," and (here's the start of the widow's peak mentions), "...above Hua Cheng's forehead was a widow's peak, and it made his face look even more shapely and alluring."

when hua cheng wore all black and, "Looking at him, Xie Lian couldn't help but remember the saying: 'for men to look handsome, they must dress in all black.' He thought deeply about the truth of that statement."

like two chapters later when xie lian literally can't focus on sqx being missing because hua cheng keeps changing outfits and xie lian cannot stop staring at him

in mount tong'lu when they're running from bwx and hua cheng says something like oh if he kills one of my butterflies i'll make ten more, i'll never back down, let's see who's left standing in the end and we get, "Xie Lian's heart skipped a beat for some reason, and he mumbled inwardly, '...Oh no, this is bad.' Even though Hua Cheng's expression was subconsciously displayed, Xie Lian really was quite weak to this aggressive and rebellious confidence of his."

when qi rong said that hua cheng only got attention from girls in puqi because it's a remote place and xie lian thinks to himself, "Even if Hua Cheng was dressed like a beggar, Xie Lian believed, should he go begging, he would collect a mountain of gold."

OK I'M STOPPING HERE BECAUSE THIS POST IS SO LONG but. this isn't even close to a comprehensive list but i hope it satisfied what you were looking for 😭

[stillness-in-green]

Chapter Thoughts: 366 – Full Moon

O  I wish I could be more engaged in the business of Shigaraki’s “ideal form.”  It’s very hard to get there, though, when my mind is stuck wrestling with questions about the mechanics of the possession and the psychological balance between the relevant parties.  Like, if this is a form born from Shigaraki’s psyche—and all the hands and family faces say it is—then why isn't more of Shigaraki apparent in the body's active consciousness? Conversely, if the AFO vestige's will is so overpowering, why doesn’t anything of AFO’s psyche seem to have ever been reflected in the shifting, unsettled form he's currently controlling?

Also, did AFO and Ujiko have any idea this is what the process would look like?  I would assume so, since VFO talked some chapters ago about the “ideal form” thing, but while I can buy Ujiko finding this all very fascinating, AFO, who has previously expressed distaste for desperate struggles,(1) seems like he’d find it pretty unsightly, especially as something he might be stuck with himself because of Shigarak’s subconscious!

(Continued under the cut.)

O  While I’m on the topic of the mechanics of this body, this whole business of heroes “besting” Shigaraki’s initial form is really poorly expressed.  And that’s kinda bizarre!  Because, like, okay: during the war?  I could believe Shigaraki’s body was having trouble keeping up with the damage there!  He developed those awful cracks and fissures, he showed burns, he got thrown around, all of that.  It was painful to watch because I was convinced of the pain he was in.

But this?  We watched him shrug off a laser canon. Bakugou’s biggest attack left little more than a skid mark on his face.  The electrification stopped being relevant approximately two chapters after it was introduced..  Mirko got some good kicks in, though I struggle to understand why they were markedly more effective than Suneater’s attack. A lot of the monster hands have been damaged, sure, but since those were equated with fingernails and hair, I don't see why continuing to blast them apart would have more than a negligible effect.(2)

No part of this is as effectively, convincingly portrayed as the similar fights during the war; indeed, I've spent most of this time thinking the heroes' attacks aren't having much effect explicitly because of things like Mirio and ShigAFO himself saying that Shigaraki's body is just too tough. So to have this magic fiat wand waved over the fight just feels like Horikoshi's trying to—and forgive me the use of this rather loaded term—gaslight me about what's been going on this whole time.

The alleged stress and panic are also murkily expressed.  We’ve watched VFO have a fear response to Bakugou, tied in some nebulous way to the second OFA bearer, but because that relationship is still entirely unexplored, we don’t know why it would be causing him to panic.  And anyway, the focus of the narration here isn’t even on VFO; it’s on Shigaraki. He certainly has all the reason in the world to feel stressed and panicked, but then I’m right back to the beginning: how can Shigaraki be feeling or influencing much of anything right now when he’s been so thoroughly subsumed by VFO?

And that’s all a shame!  Because I truly did have some Feelings upon looking at the hand armor.  All that horror, externalized as a defense mechanism, his family’s hands displayed, not as something to disgust and reassure him, their presence entirely a means to steer his emotional state, but rather as something to protect him, to physically shield him against the damage the world is so set on doing to him.  It really is incredibly evocative!  But it’s evocative of Shigaraki, and if that’s going to be the case, I wish this whole fight could have been with Shigaraki, not with an ever-so-slightly Tomura-shaded All For One.

O  Suneater continues to be the character who is Most Shoujo in this Extremely Shounen manga.  God, him saying Mirio’s name as Shigaraki’s shadow looms above him, right before the blow lands.  GOD.  As soon as I parsed that chain of events, I was right back to him startling awake with Mirio’s name on his lips at the exact, simultaneous instant Mirio lost his quirk.  They are the Most Valid ship, actually.

O  Jeanist interposing himself in between ShigAFO and Bakugou is good stuff, though I can’t help but sigh for the plot we might have had, of a defenseless Jeanist refusing to leave Bakugou’s side even as certain death advances because he’s still weaving Bakugou’s heart fibers back together.  Hell, you could even have had Edgeshot’s last stand there, and it still wouldn’t have had much impact, but throw that little flashback to his school days with Jeanist in and the contents of his flashback would have lent more weight to his stand because it would have been in defense of someone he had an actual relationship with,(3) even if that relationship was only revealed at the last second.

Because the Edgeshot stuff continues to be confounding even after the fact, let me add: if Edgeshot’s so capable of mucking around with peoples’ organs, why not go fuck around with Shigaraki’s heart?  Are we meant to believe Shigaraki’s body is too tough to pierce?  Probably Edgeshot shouldn’t have been the one to take down Re-Destro, then!  But even setting aside what seems like it ought to be the relatively similar toughnesses of Re-Destro in full Stress mode and Shigaraki post-surgery, god knows ShigAFO flaps his jaws enough with villain monologues; just go in through his mouth!

See?  I wanted to talk about how I like this fight’s Jeanist+Bakugou beats, and I can’t even do that without having to contend with how That Ninja I Hate got shoehorned in in the most awkward way imaginable.

O  The only reason I am not going to spend a paragraph harping on the “two seconds” bit is because it’s all internal, and thoughts can process extremely quickly.  But it’s cutting it very close, and I am kiiiind of already thinking ahead to the number of seconds the anime is going to require for that scene to get through the voice-acting alone. In fairness, though, Jeanist's more coherent thoughts are confined to only two panels, which are presumably running concurrently with Mirio's higher panel-count but also far more fragmentary monologue. So I can reasonably believe, albeit just barely, that those streams of thoughts could happen in only two seconds.

O  The ass joke is a massive tonal swerve, but honestly, I can’t really hold it against the story.  Recall that Sir Nighteye’s introduction was him manning a tickle torture machine; the man idolized All Might, whose highest form of humor is puns.  Nighteye's sense of humor has never been as dignified as his hero persona, so I 100% believe that he thought Mirio’s butt jokes were hilarious.

Also too, I remember that one of the things Mirio told Deku after Nighteye’s death is that, while Sir might have been harsh with Deku, he actually laughed a lot when it was just him and Mirio, and so I really liked that the little flashback here is consistent with that dynamic.

I do kind of wish Mirio’s face sold the gag better; him looking like he’s on the verge of a hernia kind of detracts from the intended humor, at least to me.  It just makes it look effortful, and a good non-sequitur should not look that labored.

ShigAFO’s little puffed exhalation of laughter is funny, though.  It reminds me of his little “Tap” sound effect talk bubble back in Deika.

O  Deku’s here, biiiiiig whoop.  I have all of two thoughts on this: 

I wasn't yet doing chapter posts back then, but I called it on the thing Deku was reacting to back in 357 being the Americans’ jets.  I assume plenty of other people did too, though; it really was the only even pseudo-reasonable way for him to get to this fight in time with Warp Gate off the table.  I imagine we’ll open next week with a flashback to that.

Well, at least we can get on with things here, maybe finally see what, if anything whatsoever, Deku’s going to try on the whole Saving Shigaraki front.  “Getting on with things” is about all the positivity I can muster, however, which I think we can all agree is a far cry from the fist-pumping and hollering that was probably the intended response.

More, perhaps, on Deku and the gaping failures of this story’s teamwork narratives next time.

--

1:  Nana, All Might, everything he or his vestige have said about people who lack the power to make a difference.

2: If we were still in the part of the story where caloric intake was a factor in being able to produce physical effects, I might be willing to assume Shigaraki's body was just running low on energy reserves, but the fact that he can still whip out hand armor family puppet battering rams disinclined me to that explanation.

3:  I realize there’s emotional weight to be had in sacrifice for an innocent, someone the sacrificer doesn’t even know, solely because it’s the right thing to do, but even that isn’t how the story chose to frame Edgeshot’s sacrifice for Bakugou.  It went with the “adults sacrificing for the next generation” angle, which immediately runs into the problem of Bakugou and Edgeshot not even being in a separate generation, age-wise.

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway (1/?)

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summary: You are a mutant with the powers of ice and cold and you have never been able to be touched or touch anyone without making them uncomfortable, or worse, hurting them. You’ve always desperately wished for physical affection, and it isn't until a new silver tongued Asgardian moves into the Avengers tower and takes an interest in you that anyone really dares to try to be physical with you.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: This part is pure fluff, but future chapters will be... more. 

Warnings: None for this chapter besides maybe a few cavities!

It had been like this since you’d been a child. You couldn’t remember a life without your ailment. You’d always seen it as a curse more than a blessing- but as you grew up and learned to control it to the best of your abilities, your mind started to change a little bit. Being adopted into Xaviers Academy had been the best thing that could have happened to you. You’d been homeless at the young age of 5 after your third foster family had thrown you out, and Charles had found you sleeping in the snow. It was lucky for you that you didn’t mind the cold at all- your powers were the cold. You could freeze anything, alive or not- and at first that was the problem. You’d frozen your mother’s heart whilst in the middle of a tantrum, and your father met the same fate after he tried to hurt you for doing it. The police found a crying child within hours, surrounded by dead parents and a house full of ice and snow. No one could prove what happened, and no one knew what to do with you from then on. After a life of constant abuse, Charles took you into a world of safety and understanding, and thankfully, that world was really the only world you knew in your conscious mind today.

The trauma was still there, but it was rooted deep in your subconscious mind. Now, as an adult, you’d been taken in to your new chosen family- The Avengers. And your home was no longer at the Academy, it was Avengers Tower. You still taught there every once in a while, whenever Charles called you, but your days were filled with world saving and working out with the worlds mightiest superheroes.

Your best friends in the complex were easily Natasha and Wanda, seeing as you all came from similar lonely backgrounds. It was a quick friendship built on trust, sarcasm, and constant blatant flirting and fucking with eachother. You loved the whole team differently, but Nat and Wanda were definitely special.

Besides them, you were definitely a little… taken with a new member of the household. When Loki was taken in by the Avengers to try and “change” him for the sake of Thor, life definitely got a little… uncomfortable. He was just so attractive, and so sassy and his smart mouth was probably the hottest thing about him. That silver tongue as you’d heard it been called constantly got your mind whirling. The girls mocked you ruthlessly for your crush, but they never pushed it to be more- they both knew your fear of relationships, friendship or otherwise.

Loki, on the other hand, was equally as enamored with you as you were him. He never stopped watching you, trying to learn every facet of your soul as he could from far away. There was something about you, and he looked at you as a puzzle that he desperately wanted to solve.

He loved watching you with your friends- the way you all so effortlessly joked and laughed with eachother- you had what he’d always wanted. An ease with earning love from others with no effort whatsoever. But something that plagued him was the juxtaposition that was your physical affection. You were so jovial and happy with everyone in the house- but you never let anyone touch you. You never touched anyone else either.

At first, he put it to what he knew was your background- abuse and loneliness. Maybe you’d been hurt more than you let on, so you didn’t let people touch you. But he threw out that hypothesis when he spent more time watching you. You always leaned in towards everyone close to you- and they leaned more away as if trying to retreat from your proximity. When with Natasha and Wanda, they always went to touch you, and you just stopped them with a look. It was such a sad look, and Loki longed to understand the pain behind your eyes. The women would pause, sigh, and take their hands back, pull their bodies back, put more distance between you and them, seemingly hurt at having to.

Today was no different. Loki was sitting on a chair in the library by the window with it open, pretending to read a book but actually watching you, while you were lazing on the couch actually reading a book. Something you had both grown very fond of in your time together. Neither of you said much, but you just enjoyed the company of one another with the chill wind coming in from outside. That’s when Natasha came to sit with you. You moved your legs and curled them up into yourself, but something new happened. Natasha, who threw something at you- ah, it was a cookie- to get your attention, and you laughed and ate it while looking at her curiously. She covered herself with a big, thick blanket, and then patted her lap for you to put your legs on top of her. You thought about it, looking pained and unsure, before slowly giving in, your eyes weary with doubt. But… nothing happened. Natasha smiled like the cat who got the cream as she pulled her phone out, and you went back to reading your book with the loveliest look of surprised warmth Loki had ever seen gracing your beautiful features.

After a little while, your eyes started fluttering shut, and you moved yourself so your head was on the red heads lap instead of your legs, and you fell asleep faster than you ever had in your life- a few happy tears falling down your cheeks.

Loki watched you sleep and forgot to put on the facade of reading, which caught the attention of Natasha, who didn’t even look up from her phone. “Whatcha staring at, Loki?” She asked, continuing to scroll.

Loki looked up at her surprise etched into his eyebrows. “Oh, nothing. I just- She’s never let anyone that close to her- how did you do that?” He asked her, eyes falling back to you.

“Y/N doesn’t let anyone touch her because she’s watched them flinch away from how cold she is her whole life. If they’re not flinching away, she hurts them by accident because most of the touches of her life have been dangerous or abusive, and she’s had to protect herself. Her powers don’t ever really turn off, they just… quiet. As long as we’ve been friends, this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to her letting me touch her.” She said, eyes on him now, watching his expressions. “Why do you care to notice?”

His eyes flew back to hers, trying to guard his expression from her knowing gaze. “I was just curious. Trying to figure you all out- she’s been the hardest to understand.” But his eyes falling back to your face gave him away, and when he looked back at Natasha, he knew she knew. She had the decency not to say anything, but the look on her face was enough to make Loki look back to his book and actually try to read this time to avoid any more speculation.

Days passed, and all he could think about was the look on your face when you were able to get some kind of physical affection- and he wanted to see it again. So this time, when he found you in the library like he always did- he didn’t choose the chair by the window. He sat down next to you. You looked up at him, and he could feel your surprise.

You eyed him up and down, and he just smiled that little smile that seemed to be only reserved for you, and started to read. The window was open, as it always was- this was your favorite room, because almost no one came in here besides Loki, and he never seemed to mind your proclivity towards keeping this room cold.

You two were like that for a while, but you started to notice him leaning more towards you- you were already at the end of the couch, so there wasn’t really anywhere for you to go, so you tried to will yourself to calm down and just focus on reading. His presence always calmed you down, he was so charming and kind- well, he was kind to you. You loved watching him read, as his tongue poked out as he was really involved with the words on the page.

Unable to focus on your page in front of you, you instead focused on the way he felt beside you. Normally, when someone was near you, you could feel their warmth radiating off of them- especially Thor and Steve. They seemed to have very naturally high body temperatures, and it made you feel itchy, like there was fire licking at your skin. Vision was one of your favorites to be near- his presence felt like nothing. No warm or cold coming off of him, so completely neutral and it made it very easy to be around him. Loki… well, Loki had never been close enough for you to be able to tell. You expected him to feel like Thor did, seeing as they were both Gods and all, and came from the same place; Asgard. But… Loki felt different. He was… normal? Well, normal for her, that was. He didn’t feel warm, he didn’t feel like anything? He kind of felt like Vision, and that surprised her.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you scootched a little closer to him, your feet brushing his thigh on the couch next to you. You watched out of the corner of your eye for a reaction- but there was nothing negative. If that had happened with Peter, he would have shivered a little and pulled away from the touch because of how cold you were. Tony would have made a joke like, “Just because the cold doesn’t bother you, Elsa, doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that,” and you’d pull away embarrassed at the reminder of how different you are.

Loki moved again, tucking his feet under himself, which repositioned his upper half to be a centimeter from being arm and arm with you. And considering his button up had the sleeves rolled up and you could see his arm hair- God, you wanted to play with it- you were almost skin to skin. Your hands started shaking and you were about to pull away to protect yourself from the inevitable pain that would come from seeing him flinch away in pain- but before you could, it happened. His skin was pressed up against you, and your heart sped up three times as fast… and nothing bad happened. He didn’t move, he didn’t flinch, his face looked… serene? He looked happy touching you.

Now the gates were open and you needed to know more- know why.

“Loki?” You asked, your head turned to face him.

When he turned to face you, you could feel his breath on your face. “Yes, darling?” You almost choked on your spit- he’d never spoken to you with that endearment before.

“Why- I mean… How? I… Loki-” You tried to get a reasonable sentence out, but the words got caught in your throat as tears started prickling your vision.

Loki put his book down and turned to face you, movements slow as if he was afraid to spook you away. “Can I try something?” He asked, hands in his lap, waiting for permission for something. You nodded dumbly, completely unsure what was about to happen. All you knew was that a door had been opened to something, and you knew there was no going back now. Loki’s hands moved, and your instincts were to pull away from him, but you fought them. You wanted to see what was going to happen here. His hands found yours, and he covered them with his own. His skin was so soft, and you looked down and noticed that his skin started to turn a different color- so you pulled away, worried you were hurting him. But you hadn’t felt a surge of your own power?

You were about to ask him, but he beat you to it with the answer. “Did you know I was adopted? Odin stole me from my home when I was a baby- whether to hurt my people or to use me as a peace making tool, I still haven’t figured out, but I am not really Loki Odinson. I am a Frost Giant from birth, raised as an Asgardian. My birth name is Loki Laufeyson. The blue you just saw was… a piece of my real form, coming out at your touch, not because you were in any way hurting or negatively affecting me… so please, let me-” He reached out again, but this time, one hand found your face, his thumb running over your cheek bone, while the other hand ran over your arm softly. Your eyes fluttered closed- his touch was like nothing you’d ever experienced. He somehow felt the same temperature as you did to yourself. He wasn’t cold or hot, he was just… perfect. The tears that were threatening to spill before finally did, and Loki raised his other hand to cup both sides of your face and wipe away the tears as they fell.

“I’ve finally figured you out. It took longer than it ever has for me, but I’ve done it. I’ve never been so taken with figuring someone out before, not like this. You don’t pull away from people because you don’t want physical affection- you pull away because you’ve never had anyone who could physically handle you. No one’s temperature matched you. You’ve never been able to be touched gently. You’ve never been able to let yourself. You are so strong, my popsicle, but you don’t have to be anymore. I was made to be able to touch you, and be touched by you.” You opened your eyes and took him in in his base form- he was the most beautiful shade of icy turquoise, his eyes red as rubies, and he was touching you. He was touching you so lovingly and so sweetly, you couldn’t stop crying. In all your years, you had never been touched like this. No one ever could. Without a beat, you clambered up into his lap and wrapped your arms around him, sighing when his arms wound their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m not hurting you?” You asked, your voice shaking.

“Not in the way you mean, darling, but you are hugging me a little tight.” You felt his chuckle vibrate in your chest, which made you laugh too. “Don’t stop, though.” He whispered into your hair.

“You’re so beautiful, you know. Why don’t you let people see your real self?” You asked, burrowing your face in his neck, pressing your nose into the column of his throat.

“I’ve spent my whole life using my magic to make myself look a certain way- it’s more or less unconscious at this point. And I’m… a little insecure about this form. Very few people have seen me look like this. And it’s never been for a good, healthy reason like this.”

“Well, I’m honored. Thank you for this. No one… no one has ever been able to touch me without it hurting them. Thank you so much, Loki.” After a few more minutes of you straddling him on the couch, wrapped around him, you came to your senses enough to know that this was probably not completely appropriate- so you got off of him as a blush crept from your cheeks to your neck to your chest, smiling shyly and biting your lip.

Loki thought you were beautiful before, but you’d never looked more beautiful than you did right in that moment.

You went back to reading together, enjoying the chill air fill the room from the window, pressed up against one another on the couch- comfortable for the first time in your life.

Part 2

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 19 (Part Two)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

My focus is on Gavin x MC interactions, so content relating to the plot will be in bullet-points :>

Part One: here

[ Notable Scene: Infiltrating the STF ]

MC: ...but aren’t you relieved from your duties?

Gavin seems to guess the words I haven’t said, and he lets out a soft, unnatural cough.

Gavin: I know every patrolling post in the STF, patrol timings and angles of the surveillance cameras. I can ensure that we’d get in successfully without anyone noticing. However, since I only saw his face from four years ago...

MC: I’ll go with you. As long as I see his face, I can point him out to you.

Gavin has a teasing smile in his eyes, perhaps seeing the urgency written on my face.

Gavin: In that case, let’s go for a walk in STF tonight.

-

Late at night, Gavin and I infiltrate the STF through an outer wall.

Pale moonlight outlines a misty halo around him, softening his edges.

He finds an open window with ease. Lifting me up, he lets me jump through the window before leaping in himself.

This appears to be a utility room.

MC: Captain Gavin’s really good at this.

Gavin: This is the STF. I won’t bump into anyone even with my eyes closed, much less the walls.

Before Gavin finishes speaking, Tang Chao walks in with a bowl of instant noodles, a wicked smile on his face while he pushes the door open.

Tang Chao: Instant noodles must be eaten on the sly. Otherwise, I might-

When Tang Chao sees Gavin, he pauses in his footsteps.

In this short span of time, we look at each other speechlessly, the only thing left being the steam rising from the instant noodles.

All of a sudden, Tang Chao rolls his eyes, his body doing a 180 degree turn. With the instant noodles in hand, he steps out of the door before closing it.

Gavin: ...

MC: ...didn’t you say you wouldn’t bump into anyone even with your eyes closed?

Moonlight streams in from the window, illuminating the side of his face clearly. I turn my head stiffly, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs slightly.

Gavin: Tang Chao is slacking off.

Tang Chao’s slightly frantic voice can be heard indistinctly.

Tang Chao: Since Captain hasn’t been around, there were changes to the duty roster... Please save me. That was so awkward. Oh no, I don’t want to run laps...

I stare at Gavin quietly. His expression has returned to normal, as though nothing happened.

Gavin: It’s okay, let’s continue.

Gavin listens to the surroundings calmly. After a moment, he pulls me out of the utility room.

Suddenly, a set of uniform footsteps can be heard from behind us.

STF Agent: ...

Even before we can turn, the regular footsteps turn into small, scattered steps, akin to busy bees fleeing in disarray. The surroundings slowly return to silence.

MC: Have we been completely exposed...?

With a soft cough, a reddish hue climbs up the tips of Gavin’s ears.

Gavin: It doesn’t count if we aren’t caught. 

Eli (through the speakers): Hey hey hey.

Eli’s voice suddenly drifts from the STF’s broadcast speakers. Gavin carefully pulls me over to hide in a shadowy corner of the corridor.

Eli (through the speakers): ...due to some indescribable reasons, all the surveillance cameras in the STF will take a break for 15 minutes. If a certain colleague wishes to go somewhere or do something, please do so quickly.

Gavin: ...

MC: Pfft.

Seeing Gavin’s slightly speechless expression, I can’t help but laugh aloud.

This person is protected by many people who are unafraid of anything, isn’t he?

After this, we occasionally bump into familiar faces. However, they seem to have made a prior arrangement, and choose to ignore us.

Gavin seems to hesitate on whether he should make an explanation, but it eventually turns into one sigh after another.

In the end, we “very successfully” step into the room with the “Eye in the Sky” system.

Using the system, Gavin retrieves footage from the football match, and MC is able to identify the wheelchair-bound man, Du Wen

Gavin then searches up information on him as well as his approximate whereabouts

The both of them find him in a small alley

He admits that he’s the founder of the Fulcrum Charity Organisation, and has been assisting Gray Rhino in whatever he can

He claims that he means them no harm. To prove this, he allows MC to read his memories

Although they find the circumstances too convenient and deliberate, MC reads his memories because why not

She notices that certain memories have been stored in a misty bubble, just like the “firewall” she installed for Gavin earlier

Still, she searches for memories from the New Years Change Incident

She "sweeps” these memories into her own mind, and confirms that he’s indeed a victim of the incident

Gavin asks how he should contact Du Wen in the future, and the latter says he’d appear during a safe time

Once they leave, MC tells Gavin that they can use the Golden Apple 2 to display the memories she saw

Gavin says that Du Wen’s words aren’t trustworthy, but at least they have some leads that could further guide them to the truth

The next afternoon, MC learns from Kiki that the exhibition hall will be re-opening the next day. So she contacts Gavin and plan to sneak into it that same night

When she arrives, there’s someone else with Gavin - an elderly man with a missing left arm

She finds him familiar

[ Notable Scene: MC meets Captain Yan ]

Gavin: MC, this is the old policeman, Captain Yan. Today, he’s mainly here to cover for us. Captain Yan, this is...

Captain Yan: No need for introductions. You’ve mentioned her many times.

Before I can express my shock, Captain Yan sends me a warm gaze.

Captain Yan: MC, we met once at the hospital. I always hear your name from this young lad, so I’m pretty familiar with you.

Captain Yan smiles teasingly, then gives Gavin a meaningful look.

Captain Yan: If he ever bullies you, remember to tell me. As his senior, I’ll give him a proper scolding.

MC: O-okay! Thanks, Uncle Yan.

Gavin: Cough. We’ll leave the pleasantries for next time. We should go now.

With this, Gavin speeds up and walks forward, a faint red hue climbing up the tips of his ears.

Seeing Captain Yan’s grin, I hurriedly lower my head and follow after him.

MC: Gavin, wait for me!

With Captain Yan keeping watch, MC and Gavin use the Golden Apple 2

In the simulated memories of the New Years Change Incident, Gavin notices post-injection bruises on Du Wen’s hand

Du Wen and those around him don’t seem to know what’s going on, but they’re frightened due to the sounds of gunshots and explosions outside

A handful of Evolvers revolt, but are shot to death by officers dressed in NW uniforms

Du Wen flees, and the both of them follow after him

In the end, they watch as a beam crushes the lower part of Du Wen’s body

At the same time, a drone in the simulation appears to take aim at MC

[ Notable Scene: Gavin’s Protection ]

Gavin: MC!

An urgent exclamation drifts to my ears. Turning to the voice, I see Gavin lunging towards me involuntarily.

Those amber eyes grow large in front of me. In the next second, I’m enveloped in Gavin’s arms.

My cheek is pressed tightly to his chest, and powerful heartbeats echo at my ear.

His heart is beating very quickly - so quickly that my heart subconsciously matches its frequency.

“Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.”

It’s as though these powerful heartbeats are the only things left in the entire world.

In every difficult or dangerous situation, I’m always able to hear this sound.

It’s as though they have melded into my bloodstream, becoming a kind of instinct.

Gavin: It’s fine, there's no need to leave the system.

Gavin’s hand is by his ear. After stating his judgement calmly, he looks at me.

Gavin: Are you okay?

MC: Gavin, this is fake.

Gavin: Mm. But my body seems to have reacted a little faster than my brain.

His amber eyes reflect the blood-coloured sky, filled with worry and fret that he hasn’t had the time to shed off.

Gavin: Whether it’s real or an illusion, I don’t want you to get hurt in front of me.

MC: But they would simply pass through my body.

Gavin: Not even if they pass through.

He speaks unyieldingly.

MC: Okay, whatever you say.

Gavin: Let’s get out of here.

They continue looking at the chaos and hear the sounds of crying and screaming

Gavin appears composed, but the fingertips holding onto MC are quivering, as though he's barely suppressing his anger at the injustice before him

The scene shifts, and what appears before them is a NW laboratory

Du Wen has thick tubes stuck all over him, and he’s submerged in a gigantic apparatus

MC traces that the memory is from 2 months prior to the New Years Change Incident

A senior official from NW walks in, and he seems to be in charge of a secret experiment

[ Notable Scene: Gavin and MC’s Future Father-in-law]

His eyes are steadfast and icy, as though nothing can sway him.

And nothing can destroy or obstruct him.

Gavin stands rooted to the spot. He watches as the man draws closer and closer to himself-

And walks straight through him.

Gavin has already matured into someone whose height is on par with his. They have incredibly similar features, and they even share an identical straight and powerful gait.

However, Gavin doesn’t turn around. His entire body remains stiff until the world gradually gathers into a patch of darkness.

He doesn’t move. The faint white light causes him to look pale.

Slowly, he lowers his head, covering his eyes.

I stand behind him, not saying a word.

That senior official is Gavin’s father.

Once they’re out of the Golden Apple 2, Captain Yan notices how solemn Gavin looks

Gavin takes Captain Yan and MC to a simple apartment to talk

Gavin fills Captain Yan in on what they saw

Captain Yan and Gavin start discussing what happened, and MC heads over to the window to look at the view despite the best view being Gavin

Gavin brings up the laboratory, and Captain Yan asks if he saw “that person”. Gavin grits his teeth and says, “I saw him.”

[ Notable Scene: The End of Chapter 19 ]

Gavin: MC, I’ll send you home.

By the time Gavin comes up from behind me, Captain Yan has already left.

I notice Gavin’s tense lower jaw. He seems to be doing his best to appear natural in front of me.

To appear as though he doesn’t care.

Seeing this person before me, I feel my heart being clenched tight.

MC: Gavin, I want to go somewhere before heading home. Could you accompany me?

-

When we leap over the walls of Loveland High, confusion flashes across his eyes.

The gentle evening breeze brushes his fringe, and his figure is immersed in patches of moonlight.

It’s been a very long time since I last returned to this place. But images from this place always surface in my mind.

The field, the stairs, the roof, the gymnasium late at night, and the infirmary.

During that period of time I had re-lived, I wanted nothing more than for time to move a little faster.

So that I’d be able to reach that day when I could walk over to him a little sooner.

However, this year, I’m reluctant to let time pass by as quickly. 

During the time in which the wind blew by, that young man filled all my memories related to youth.

That’s how reluctant I am.

That’s why I’ve been walking slowly on purpose. Even so, in just the blink of an eye, he disappeared in the breeze of youth.

Pulling on Gavin’s hand, we walk along the field, and walk into the depths of the forest behind the school.

MC: Gavin, I think you’re angry.

I turn my head to the side to look at him. Gavin simply furrows his brows slightly, and it’s clear that he feels a little uneasy.

MC: You don’t need to pretend that nothing’s bothering you in front of me. Anger isn’t something you should feel ashamed of.

Gavin: I...

He opens his mouth, but something sews it up again.

A fierce wind suddenly rises, causing countless fallen leaves to swirl in the air.

They are reminiscent of incessant, agonised screams.

Gavin: I... just can’t understand. There are clearly many other methods. There are many other choices.

His words are blended into the wind, suppressed and pained.

I don’t turn my head to look at his expression. I simply stand beside him quietly, our fingers interlaced together, standing in the middle of the fierce gale.

With the flow of time, the fierce gale becomes calmer. In the end, it morphs into a gentle breeze, brushing our fringes.

Gavin: MC, thank you.

I shake my head, turning my head towards him.

MC: Gavin, do you know something? The reason why I brought you back here was to tell you that I hope your beautiful memories won't simply be confined to high school. Beautiful things should continue, and never end.

While saying this solemnly, my heart speeds up uncontrollably.

Gavin’s pupils quiver slightly, and he squeezes my hands tightly.

Gavin: Thank you.

Very softly, he repeats these words.

MC: Let’s walk around a little more before heading home.

I chuckle happily, my footsteps becoming incomparably lighter.

All of a sudden, my palm feels empty -

It’s as though Gavin released my hand.

Feeling puzzled, I turn around to find that Gavin had simply shifted his hand behind his back.

MC: What’s wrong?

Gavin: ...nothing.

When the girl’s confusion is dispelled and she continues walking forward, Gavin lowers his head to look at his vanished right arm, his expression composed.

As compared to his right hand disappearing the last time, the scope seems to have grown larger this time.

Gavin follows behind the girl calmly, contemplating quietly.

His time might be shorter than he imagined.

Gavin chuckles softly, the corners of his lips hooking upwards slowly.

Gavin: MC.

I pause in my footsteps and turn around, realising that we’re several footsteps apart.

MC: Gavin, what’s wrong?

Gavin: I just received news from Captain Yan. I might have to leave for a while.

MC: So suddenly?

Gavin: Sorry. After sending you home, I’ll set out.

He looks at me apologetically, as though suppressing something once again.

-

After returning home, I quickly remove my shoes and rush to the window to search for that figure.

Guessing that I’d do this, Gavin doesn’t leave immediately. He stands downstairs, waiting for me.

A gust of wind burrows in through the window, as though carrying with it slight reluctance as it makes gentle twirls around me again and again.

I lean my palm against the glass, wanting to say another farewell to him.

MC: Gavin, you must return safely.

💙 Calls and Moments: here

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[wannabe-fic-writer]

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Mild Language

Chapter 8

* * * * * * *

There’s a small, skin toned bump under her eye. Another small, almost unnoticeable mark just above her lip. 

Her eyes crinkle in the corners when she laughs and her cheeks pull up into perfect plum shapes.

Though the skin on her hands is soft and smooth, her palms are calloused a little. It leaves you wondering if it’s from all the times she’s held the cold metal of a gun in her hand, or wielded a knife that’s handle was too rough against her skin. 

Still you notice, despite the initial roughness you pick up on when you see the scars on her skin or feel the callouses on her hands, that she’s utterly breathtaking.

Your favorite sight of her being when she smiles.

“Are you even paying attention to me?”

Refocusing on the words she’s saying instead of her looks, you raise your eyebrows.“ I’m sorry, I just-” you shake your head, glancing down at your cup of tea.“ I can’t get over how gorgeous you are.” You look back up, raising the cup to your lips and sipping.

Her mouth opens, ready for a reply, but closes immediately as she realizes she doesn’t have one. Unusually, she isn’t sure what to say.

Unlike every other person who’d complimented her, yours was truly genuine. You meant it when you said it and expected nothing from her in return. 

She reaches across the table and takes your hand, squeezing it gently as a blush rises on here cheeks.“ Thank you.” 

You smile sweetly at her, then lean forward a little, elbows and forearms pressing against the table.“ Okay I’m listening again, what’s up?” 

“I don’t want the team to know.” She quickly says, eyes dropping from yours, a worried look on her face.“ About, whatever we are. I’m not embarrassed or-”

The way her smile drops instantly makes you frown. She rambles on and on, trying to explain her words to you.

Shaking your head, you reach forward and lift her head to meet her eyes.“ Nat, I appreciate it but I don’t need an explanation. Really, I want you to be completely comfortable with whatever this is.” She smiles at your words, her shoulders visibly sagging afterwards. Only for her body to tense as you utter a low ‘but’.

Brows furrowing, the redhead leans forward, her hand gripping yours.“ But what?”

“Does keeping things under wraps mean I can’t take you out on a date?” This time you smile brightly at her.

Natasha rolls her eyes, shoulders once again dropping as the corner of her lips tug up. Slowly, those green eyes look up into yours, a growingly familiar look in her eyes.“ That has nothing to do with keeping things secret and everything to do with where and when.”

Chuckling softly, you run your thumb along the back of her hand, keeping your gaze on her eyes.“ I’d like to take you to dinner Romanoff. It’s nothing fancy but retired SHIELD agents don’t get paid all that well.” 

“Dinner sounds lovely.” She says, her smile maintained. Her lips part as she goes to say something else but her phone cuts her off. Glancing down at it for a moment then back up at you.“ A lot lovelier than training Pietro with Sam and Steve.”

“Oh Bird Boy got promoted to training people huh?” You joke, eliciting a laugh from her like you hoped it would.“ Well, I want to check in with Wanda anyway so I can take you to the compound.” 

She playfully smirks, standing up as you do,“ got a sweet ride you’re gonna let me in?”

Rolling your eyes, you drop the money for your drinks and muffins on the table along with a tip. You then walk with her out of the cafe. 

The two of you walk over to your car and you open the door for Natasha. She lowers herself into the passenger seat of the classic mustang you’d come here in, and you shut the door after her. Going around, you get into the driver's seat after the cars pass. 

You can’t help but find it adorable how Natasha waits for you to put your seatbelt on and pull off before she reaches across the console to grab your hand. 

She raises your hand and presses a soft kiss on the back of it, squeezing gently as she relaxes in her seat and looks out the window. A look of contentment washes over her face and you can’t help but be a little proud that you seem to be the cause of it, or have been for the last few days. 

Your first kiss had taken place around a week or two ago. Over that course of time you’d shared more kisses than you were able to keep track of. 

It seems as though that moment opened the floodgates to all the physical touch you and Natasha had been starving for. Along with every kiss came a number of touches. Nothing had gone beyond PG-13 and you were more than okay with that.

You were completely happy with the way Natasha would drape herself over your lap like it was nothing in the comfort of your apartment. The light ghosting of her fingers against your neck before they curl into the hairs at your nape. Or the shiver that runs down your body when her fingers brush across your leg. And of course, how her fingers would lace with yours when she nonchalantly grabs your hand. 

Her affection warms your heart in the purest and most perfect way possible. Especially having known how she felt, and partly still feels, about that. 

While she hadn’t gone into great detail about her past she told you enough plus what you already knew about the Black Widow and Red Room organization. You knew of the horrible things that happened to the young girls in the Red Room and had had more than one encounter with the women who trained there. 

Knowing that and what she told you, shined an even brighter light on Natasha in your eyes. She’s strong, there’s no way you could ever say otherwise, but you severely underestimated how strong. Everything she’s been through that you’re aware of required the utmost of endurance and strength. 

“Stop looking at me like that Y/ln. Your eyes need to stay on the road.” She says, voice slightly teasing. 

Yeah, you’d subconsciously been looking over at the woman but you can’t really blame yourself. She’s beautiful in every conceivable way. 

“Oh forgive me. My eyes are just attracted to a particularly beautiful redhead.” You say, a small smile thrown her way afterwards.

Her eyes roll, an action you notice she does a lot when receiving genuine compliments, and a snort falls from her lips as she chuckles. You aren’t sure how others would react to that but you kind of love it. Especially since it’s always followed by a blush. 

The drive upstate continues with you being slightly less distracted by Natasha and her clicking through the radio stations. Which you find amusing since her musical tastes vary greatly. 

Funnily enough, she can’t seem to find a station before you get to the compound. Right when she does though, you’re pulling up to the door. 

An adorable pout forms on her face and her sad eyes look from the compound, to the radio, then to you. The radio host gets quieter and the song gets louder, the intro playing through. You know what she wants.

Sighing softly, you shake your head and shift gears. A look over at Natasha reveals her pleased face, as well as the image of Steve at the compound windows. His brows furrow as you pull off.

Quickly looking away from him, your eyes focus on the road. You don’t stay gone long, the song only lasts four minutes, enough time for you to head a little ways down the road from the compound security gate before it goes off.

The next song that plays isn’t Nat’s cup of tea so you turn around and head back. The agent at the gate gives you a slightly annoyed and curious look when you come back for the second time but you can’t say you care, not when your little drive put that smile on Nat’s face. 

“You two here to stay this time?” Steve asks, arms crossing over his chest as blue eyes shift from you to Natasha. 

Locking your doors, you pocket your keys and smile at him.“ Not sure Stevie, might steal her away in the middle of your training session and go for another drive.” You tease, cocking your eyebrow at him.

“Y/ln-” His voice is a warning that makes you want to laugh. 

“Can’t say I’d be opposed to that.” Natasha says with a small smile, walking past Steve no doubt in route to one of the training rooms, she glances back at you with a small wink before she disappears around the corner. 

It takes a bit of effort to fight a smile, but you manage. Then averting your eyes to Steve’s blue ones.“ Don’t worry, I won’t steal your partner. I hear Speedy is a handful.” 

“Thank you.” His shoulders drop as he sighs softly. You can’t stop yourself from laughing at his response. 

You both turn to head down the hallway.“ He can’t be that bad.” You say, almost as if challenging his reaction.

Steve gives you a look.“ He’s a good kid but a pain in the ass. And stubborn.” Shaking his head, he looks over again to see Pietro’s blue blur shoot by and disappear through the doors.“ Doesn’t listen for the most part.” 

“I believe that.” You have to admit,“ Wanda was pretty stubborn when we started. Still is sometimes.” You shake your head and stop at the end of the hall.“ Her powers are incredible so she doesn’t believe she needs hand to hand combat.”

He nods along, sucking his teeth and sighing.“ They’re kids. We keep teaching them and eventually they’ll get it.”

“Yeah. They’ll get it. Gotta have patience.” With that said, you leave a final pat on Steve’s shoulder before you turn away and go in search of Wanda. 

Surprisingly it’s pretty quiet. You assume Tony is out or down in the lab tinkering. With everyone else in the training room, you head to Wanda’s room, knowing it’s likely that’s where she is.

Once you’re there you raise your hand and knock, calling out,“ room service.” When her door swings open, you smile at her, matching the one on her face.“ Good afternoon little witch. How are you?” 

“Hi,” she greets back, leaving the door open as she goes to pull a sweater on.“ I’m good, how're you?” 

“Just dandy,” she laughs a little and steps out.“ Figured I’d stop by and see how you're settling in. If my guidance is working or if you’re just keeping an old gal like me entertained.”

“Oh please. You act younger than me sometimes.” 

Your jaw drops, eyebrows pinching together.“ I do not. I’m a mature adult.” 

The two of you make it to the common room, detouring to the kitchen. Wanda quirks an eyebrow at you as you sit at the island, the younger woman moving around to fix a cup of tea. 

“Sure you are.” She drags the first word out sarcastically and you roll your eyes.“ You’ve got your childish moments Y/n.” 

A disagreement is on the tip of your tongue, until you realize she’s right. Natasha tells you quite often how childish you can be, usually after you’d just thrown a pillow at her or shot the wrapper of a straw at her from across the island. 

“Okay I’m a little childish sometimes.” You admit in defeat. 

Wanda chuckles and nods. 

The two of you chat as she finishes making her tea and once she’s done you move to the common room. Falling onto the couch, you flick through tv stations and continue to talk. 

You’re more than happy to hear that she was no longer on the “I hate Tony Stark” train. She admits that there’s still strong dislike, but both she and Pietro had been learning more about Tony, seeing him for the man he truly is and not what the media portray. 

With the young woman becoming a closer friend the more time goes on you feel better knowing she doesn’t hate the man who is family to you.

“Ooo I love this show.” She stops her statement to say, stopping on a sitcom about a family. 

You quirk a brow,“ Malcolm in the Middle?” You ask and she nods. 

That provokes the woman to explain why she loves the show. 

Starting off, you listened to every word, adding words of agreement and a show that you’re attentive. Until Natasha comes in. 

Attention instantly divided. 

Eyes drawn to the way her eyes land on you the second she steps in, then down to the purposeful swish of her hips. She smirks, cocky that she so easily grabbed your attention, then turns into the kitchen with Steve and Sam. 

Your heart, that started beating a little faster when she smirked, doesn’t calm down. Even after she’s no longer in sight. Instead it picks up a little more at the thought that pops up in your head, lingering front and center.

“Well if you love her so much you should tell her.” 

Eyes wide, your head snaps over to Wanda. She gives you a nonchalant expression in return, only to quickly realize that you didn’t say that out loud. 

“Oh. Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” the young woman sits up, eyes suddenly pleading.“ I wasn’t trying to but it was so loud I- I thought you actually said it.”

With a shake of your head, you chuckle. It’s a light, almost unbelieving sound.“ It’s fine Wan. Truly.” You gently pat her knee. A moment of silence passes.“ Was it really that loud?” You ask.

“Very.” Wanda says, laughing a little.“ Did you mean it in the way it sounded?” Her voice holds curiosity, making you look over at her. 

“I-” Words cut short by a loud melodic laugh. Your gaze once again finds Natasha as you follow the sound. She leaves the kitchen, smiling at something Sam said.“ Yeah. I meant it. In that way.”

Yes, you love Natasha. 

Admitting it makes it feel like it was obvious as hell. Everything you’d been feeling points to it. From the way her smile sent butterflies rumbling in your stomach to the way her touch seemed to light you on fire. 

You won’t lie and say you aren’t scared by that. The two of you have just started exploring this aspect of your relationship and you’ve already started falling for her. And you already love her. 

The surprise isn’t that you love her, with how strongly you’d felt about her already and the progression of things, you knew you were bound to fall for her. The surprise is that it happened so fast. 

Part of you is worried, fearing that this revelation so soon could mess things up for you. However the other part of you, the bigger part, is telling you to just relax. Whatever is supposed to happen will happen. Natasha likes you and that’s more than enough.

* * * * * * *

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