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cookingwithroxy · 11 months ago

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"Honestly, I'm rather surprised you were able to track me down." The regal woman said from her throne-like chair, brushing back red hair that shifted to gold, that shifted to brown, that slid into pure black. "I mean, you had the one slight advantage over everyone else in this city, to know that You and I are very seperate people. I do say 'slight' advantage," She continued so casually, her own frame easing down from the exaggerated curves of her guest, to something slight and only vaguely feminine, making 'her' seem gaunt in the moment. "After all, they do call me 'Copycat' for a reason. People should have suspected that if they 'knew' who I really was, then they were dead wrong. And yet..."

The androgynous figure let it trail off, considering the woman on the other side of the desk. Poised and calm, even now, the faintest touch of a smile on crimson lips. There was something about her that had seemed so... perfect. A lovely disguise, because she seemed built to be a supervillain. It was a shame she was only some club owner, looks like that were potential squandered in the capes and cowls set.

Copycat would have killed to look like that naturally. And all things considered, they would kill to get that look every day. Oh, it might mess up the present scheme, but to be able to fill in that life...

"I should ask HOW you found me, Miss Dream, because it is important that I cut off loose ends. But I suspect you'd rather not share. Because we both know that this night will not end well for you..."

The woman laughed, a cold and humorless laugh, brushing that red hair out of her eyes to gaze at her 'captor'. She wasn't bound, but the pair of men standing beside her chair, the guns in their hands? Told everyone that she wasn't free to do as she saw fit.

"Yesss... I do suppose you're right. This whole year hasn't gone that well for me. Someone walking around, wearing my face as they commit crimes, always there when I'm busy with something else? It's been quite bad for me, every day. Once is an accident, twice can be chance... but it wasn't just twice, was it?"

The men flanking Sylvia Dream chuckled, which only made the gothically dressed club owner frown all the more, letting her eyes glance from one to the other.

"But if you want to know how I found you, that's easy enough. I have people keeping an eye on what warehouses are being rented, that's all. Someone new coming in, moving stolen goods through back channels, those things one keeps an eye on-"

"What, you're telling me that bar owners keep an eye on the black market?" Copycat said with a laugh, their goons chuckling along with the dark humor of the moment. "I'm sure you want to sound big and important, but let's be serious here dear. A civilian like you won't have a hand in something like ME."

Despite it all, the leveled threats and the amusement of her captors, all that drew out of the redhead was a deep sigh, one hand coming up again to cover her eyes. "You know, I wish I could say 'in my day, we didn't do things like this.' But that would really be a lie. So many were just like this, smug and self-important, waving death like it was a casual thing. This is why I got out, you see. Every time I had to deal with someone like you, I just had the building need to…"

The trio were growing less and less amused by the word, glaring at this woman, failing to give them the reaction they expected. The tension rose further as she again brushed her hair back out of her eyes, and more that the crimson was now touched with wide streaks of black.

Copycat froze at the sudden sound of grunts out of the guards, their men stuck still as the guns clattered out of their hands. Whatever had hit them, it wasn't apparent from the angle. All Copycat could see was the sudden jerking of their frames, the spray of crimson escaping...

No, not a spray. Oh, the blood dripped from those wounds, but it wasn't gushing from a pumping heart, it was flowing out over the sudden, twisted, jagged 'limbs' that suddenly had pushed their way out of the two men's bodies. Like crazed withered trees, coated in gore, holding those two up like limp puppets on tangled strings.

And the woman, Sylvia, she didn't look quite right anymore. There was that darkness around her eyes now, almost like a mask and...

"To just kill the young idiots who keep BOTHERING me with their theatrics. I'm rather sorry, darling, but you REALLY should have picked someone else to drag into your problems." 'Sylvia' stated as she rose from the seat, tapping one barren 'barb' that came out from a loyal man's eye, and Copycat watched with deepening shock as it twisted itself into a rose of blood for this stranger to pluck.

"Because in my day, people understood. You don't want the Gentleman Mage giving you her full attention. And you, little Copycat. You have every last bit of attention I have to give. Now then. Let's begin."

Due to a series of “unfortunate” accidents, everyone in the city believes you are the secret identity of an up and coming supervillain. In truth you are a retired supervillain who faked their death years ago and now this upstart is going to get a taste of what true supervillainy looks like.

#It's a first draft but fuck it I've left this sitting for a year now.#I need to publish or hate myself for never starting.

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navree · 7 months ago

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I've seen people doing caligula aegon parallels what are your feeling on this as both as someone in both fandoms?

I think I talked about this a bit with @kitsnicket once, lol, but I can kinda see some similarities. Moreso when it comes to personalities than actual political rule, because as governors Aegon and Caligula are very different. I've mentioned this before but it's a bit hard to get a read on how Aegon was as a reigning monarch because he did not reign for a long time (still more time than Rhaenyra's half-year tho shrug dot emoji), whereas Caligula had a bit more time, and had a far larger impact on his world's history than Aegon did. People in Westeros talk about the Dance, yeah, but not a whole lot, and they don't have very many strong opinions on the key players, except for Stannis calling Rhaenyra a traitor, while Caligula has been infamous for two thousand years and has practically entered common parlance the way that infinitely more influential figures have, though for decidedly less kosher reasons.

When it comes to them as people, I can see some surface similarities. Both were ultimately the victims of assassination, both seemed to have favored "new men" over the establishment, both had a period of debilitation and convalescence early on in their reign that also marked a pretty stark change in how the regime operated (Rook's Rest and Caligula's infamous illness), both have a reputation of being somewhat self-indulgent, both were succeeded to the throne by someone who was not their child. And both of them were clearly heavily affected by difficult early lives that had originally started out idyllic, though Caligula far more extremely. Aegon suffered from Viserys's neglect and the issues that caused him, clearly, after Viserys got bored of his newfangled boy baby, but he was still relatively safe, on a physical level, treated well, and surrounded by other family members. Caligula had a longer "cushy" period in his childhood, but after his father died his family was literally wiped out, often through extremely cruel measures (I think both his mother and his older brother were starved to death, and if I remember correctly his older brother was literally trying to eat his own mattress towards the end), and was a hostage from then on until his ascendancy. And while Aegon certainly has no positive feelings towards Viserys or Rhaenyra, they 1) weren't involved in his life all that much (which was part of the problem where Viserys was concerned) and 2) were not a danger to him. Caligula essentially being remanded into Tiberius's personal care was incredibly dangerous for him and his life was under constant threat in a way that Aegon's never was, so he was probably more paranoid in his life than Aegon ever was.

The main thing tho, and I am so sorry (not) to the antis who are definitely using the Aegon/Caligula parallels to talk about how Aegon sucks and Rhaenyra is The One True Queen (she ain't, none of them are, there's no good option they both suck because the system sucks, birthright monarchy is a scam and the Dance proves it, I can and will make this argument day in and day out), is that Aegon was nowhere near as bad as Caligula was. A lot of stuff about Caligula has been exaggerated and flanderized, especially with the amount of time that's gone by and the lack of objective sources, so a lot of what people think of when you say the name Caligula likely wasn't that extreme or flat out not true (the incest, the bit about declaring war on Poseidon and sending his army to stab the sea, the horse thing is iffy because the person who talked about it was Suetonius and Suetonius liked to just make shit up for no reason sometimes and you have to kind of look at the verified behavior/personality of the person he's talking about and then see if what he's saying lines up, it's why I believe him when he talks about Octavian gouging people's eyes out with his own hands or massacring every single senator in a city as a sacrifice just because he was pissed, but I don't buy the bit about him wanting to sleep with other people's wives, and I personally don't know enough about Caligula to make the call on whether the horse thing is accurate to what we concretely know about him). But Caligula also verifiably did a lot of really bad things. He had the treason trials, a continuation of one of Tiberius's most brutal repression tactics, whereas Aegon was far more merciful to people who had fought against him but now went over to his side. Like Aegon II with Rhaenyra's son Aegon, Caligula had a similar "relative of someone I despise who has wronged members of my family" younger person in his life in the form of Gemellus; Aegon deliberately spared Aegon the Younger's life and let him live relatively free of molestation, Caligula had Gemellus murdered (or forced to kill himself, which I don't wrinkle my nose at because tbf I don't know if Aegon wouldn't have also used that as an execution method if it were acceptable in Westeros, and it was basically the same as execution anyway in Ancient Rome, Octavian used it on one of his own fucking friends, true story). Caligula also just executed a lot more people who had just happened to get on his bad side than Aegon ever did; Aegon in general is just more merciful, softer, and not as brutal as Caligula was.

Like I said, there are some comparisons that work, but also a lot of key differences, mostly in terms of Aegon being a better person than Caligula, at least based on the public record, which is funny because again, the people making these comparisons are generally trying to take digs at Aegon/The Greens. But making comparisons between any fictional characters and the Julio-Claudians is always gonna be hard, because all of these bitches led really interesting and deeply intricate lives with a ton of ups and downs that makes it hard to compare them to more linear and limited fictional people.

#personal #answered #anonymous #for example other than sharing an actor aegon and octavian have NOTHING in common #except for maybe idk a deep love of family?#but aegon's is far more unconditional than octavian at the very least presented his publicly #man was into self preservation first and foremost even to the point where it shattered his relationship with his own daughter #who i firmly believe he loved so very dearly but that's for another time #but yeah interesting thought exercise #there's some stuff there that i can see #but i will also readily admit that as an augustus girlie caligula is a bit after my time #tho augustus did know he existed cuz he was already two when augustus died

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booksandwords · 1 year ago

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Window Shopping by Tessa Bailey

Read time: 1 Day Rating: 5/5 Stars

The Quote: "Being dishonest is not me. You're right. But it's not you, either. I don't think it ever was. We're going to meet somewhere in the middle tonight and find out who we could be What that could feel like." — Aiden Cook

Warnings: discrimination (criminal record)

It is easy to see why Window Dressing is as popular as it is. It's insta-attraction, grump/sunshine, workplace romance all wrapped up in pretty and sparkly Christmas wrapping. This takes the grump/sunshine dynamic and gender swaps it, 90% of the time when I read the grump/sunshine dynamic the female character is the sunshine and the grump is the male. In this case, 25-year-old Stella Schmidt, a recently released convict and prospective window dresser is the grump. The sunshine is 32-year-old Aiden Cook, general manager of Vivant, a New York department store. The whole story (epilogue excepted) takes place over less than a week. Honestly, it is an effective way to tell the story. Better yet, at 240ish pages and written in a way that makes this pick-up put-downable, and possibly a great seasonal read.

I adore Stella and Aiden, their dichotomy gives me joy. Good lord Aiden himself has a serious dichotomy, there is nothing two-dimensional about him. But he occasionally gives me whiplash, I get the feeling he does that to Stella too. It is the best kind of whiplash though. "I let the bow tie fool me, didn't I? When he told me he could be downright rough, I didn't fully comprehend his meaning. Or maybe I thought he was exaggerating. He wasn't. This man just yanked up my skirt in public, touched my body like he'd been studying it his whole life and growled at me. Possessive things, jealous things that should turn me off but oh lord, they don't." (Stella). This quote is a perfect demonstration of it, and he does this a lot. Aiden is the epitome of the Southern gentlemen when we meet him, raised in Tennesee by a sassy af woman. I really like his mind and his attitude towards people. He is a perfect balance to Stella.

As a man of conscience and principle Aiden is something Stella aspires to be and feels she doesn't deserve. These feelings are kind of where the primary conflict comes from in their relationship. "I will not start making major decisions when I've only been out of prison for a single month. I'm not letting him make any bad decisions. Look at the way he charged downstairs and rescued me, carrying me upstairs like Prince Charming. But I'm not a princess. Not the kind of girl who ends up with Aiden Cook." (Stella). Stella is a strong and fierce woman. It takes us quite some time in the scheme of the story to find out what Stella was convicted for, though we do find out early on it was a four-year sentence. It is up to the reader to understand Stella's conviction and judge her for themselves, she does claim responsibility for her actions. Just be aware there is a moment where there Stella is discriminated against for her felony past, it is spiteful and awful. I really like her. She has a strong backbone, is just trying to turn her life around and is happy to be swept off her feet by the right man. Unbeknownst to her Aiden is definitely the right man.

Have a dump of quotes and thoughts.

There is a beautiful quote about Christmas magic in the second paragraph. Stella is a non-believer but it is written in such a way that Tessa Baily isn't those who do believe in the special time of year.

I scan the immediate area for maimed penguins or some other sign that I've gone around the bend. All is well. As normal as New York City can be, which is to say there are three people fighting over one cab, the strains of a saxophone emanate mysteriously from the ether and a sparkly pink wig lies forgotten in the gutter. Nothing that would be considered unusual, though. I'm not hallucinating, why has this man stopped to tell me a story about his relatives? I'm not what one would refer to as approachable. In fact, I'm fluent in Fuck Off. Hopefully he speaks it, too. Or at least knows how to read body language. — This is Stella after Aiden tells his first of many Aunt Edna stories, a highlight of the novel. I really like this as a description of New York City. And yeah Aiden is completely ignorant of or unwilling to read body language. It's honestly kinda funny. (Stella)

"I'm curious what you make of all this." "You're referring to Penguin Chernobyl?" — Anyone who has seen a quote from this book has likely seen this quote. But it is really funny. And it repeats later on. (Aiden and Stella)

"It's going to be a good day." On the other side of the office, assistant fingers pause in the act of typing out God knows what at two hundred miles an hour. "Nand what exactly is your basis for that theory?" asks Leland over the top of his wire-rim glasses. "It's Monday and it's snowing." "Both of those things are the sign of a clean slate. It's like we've got a fresh spiral notebook from the drugstore and this time we're going to use good handwriting all the way through. Not just on the first page." — If you want an example of Aiden's perfect optimism at all times, this is possibly my fave quote for that. I like his wonderful play-off with his assistant Leland. (Aiden and Leland)

The red dress in the window display is stunning. When Tessa Stella is right she's right, women are unlikely to buy that sort of beauty for themselves. But damn sometimes a woman needs that dress.

"You don't get locked up somewhere for four years and leave without a few soul scrapes." — I adore this quote it is just a wonderful way to comfort someone who has ended up with claustrophobia due to incarceration. (Aiden)

"They want it room temp. Last time they wanted it freezing." "Maybe we should have the water blessed by a priest and burn the demons out of them." Leland suggests. "St. Patrick's is only a few blocks away. I could be back in no time." — 'They' are the devil incarnate board of directors, Aiden's father, grandmother and cousin. I adore Leland, he is said to have the disposition of a cranky senior citizen and the pessimism of Eeyore. I want to know more about Leland. There is more going on in that head of his. This quote isn't Leland's highlight but it's close. He has a stunning moment later on that I won't spoil for readers. (Linda and Leland)

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words are just a representation of the speaker's inside—not me. And not you. — Edna is possibly my favourite character in the book. She makes me laugh, the woman has had A life. Aiden loves to tell stories about Aunt Edna, they are funny and kinda quirky. Just making the reader and Stella smile. I love this line so much though. (Aunt Edna, quoted by Aiden)

Sitting with people I half-know, drinking, letting myself slip into a slightly numb state where I don't overthink every word out of my mouth. The vibe is completely different, however, we're not trying to decide how we're going to top the previous night or what wild stunt we can get away with. That lack of peer pressure is more intoxicating than the alcohol. Is this what adulthood feels like? I could get used to it. — There is something to be said for recognising this difference. The difference between teen drinking and adult drinking. Or maybe it's more drinking to get drunk and social drinking. (Stella)

"It's nice not to be in a rush with this window. I can take my time with Norma." "Excuse me," Jordyn says. "You named the mannequin?" "Oh, she has a whole persona. She's thirty-nine. A single, career-driven lady who is about to make partner at her firm. But with one month to go until she turns forty, she realizes how little self-care there is in her life. When was the last time she pampered herself? Never, that's when. And she isn't planning on it now. There is work to be done." I reach down to brush the fine edge of Norma's bangs. " — She has some good friends, though. College roommates. And they know her better than she knows herself. They see she's only doing for others. All she gives herself is pressure. So they give her the gift of rediscovering her physical beauty with a smoky eye kit from Chanel and the 24k Gald Mask from Peter Thomas Roth."I know this is a super long quote, almost needlessly long but I appreciate the idea of personification of inanimate objects to create a bond. With a persona, and a backstory the story flows easier too. While Norma belongs to the second window Stella works on her first window has something of a story too. She knows who she wants to sell to, that is essentially what all this boils down to. It is a great point to include in a fiction piece. (Stella and Jordyn)

"I swear. Roll your eyes one more time. I never loved that clown like I love your crabby ass. But we lived in the same house and you hadn't spoken to me in nine months. Nine. Not a bless you or a how's it hanging." There's a grunt in the background. "I'm crazy about you. But I'll still carve out your eyeballs." Grunt. This one more affectionate. — This is Edna, her husband Hank and their all-but son Aiden. The whole conversation this comes from, which includes Aiden saying Edna would love Stella, is just fantastic. (Aiden, spoken is Aunt Edna)

🍿In honour of Leland. I was right there with him. 🔥

I love the cover choice. The import of it isn't truly understood until right at the very end. Essentially it isn't as simple as seems.

#window shopping #tessa bailey #holiday reads #book review #ktreviews #read 2022 #booklr #tw discrimination

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bakuthedeku · 4 years ago

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their everyday game

Read on AO3

Words: 3,000

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Things Midoriya Izuku is: A student, a sugar baby, a boyfriend, a brat.

Things Midoriya Izuku is not: Patient.

Or: Izuku wants attention from Kacchan and he is going to get it.

A commissioned fic for @insinirate !

Clack clack clack. The room is silent but for the steady breaths of its occupants and the rhythmic beat of fingers on plastic. Clear, wall-to-ceiling windows wash the sun’s gentle light into the room, and reveal a picturesque view of the sparkling city, looking like something straight out of a magazine.

Izuku glares at the extravagant view. He bets Kacchan is writing another one of those stupid reports of his.

Buzz. The clacking halts and Kacchan glances at his work phone for but a moment before the typing resumes.

Izuku takes a deep breath. Holds it. Puffs out his cheeks.

He slumps over in his seat and sighs obnoxiously.

God, he’s so damn bored.

Kacchan said he had to get one more hour of work done, and then he’d take a break. That had been almost three hours ago. ‘One hour’ had turned into two when Izuku left Kacchan to get ready for their lunch date and had foolishly gone straight to the cafe instead of meeting up with Kacchan at the office first. He’d waited all of ten minutes at their usual table before calling a company car and returning to find Kacchan still working in his office.

If not for Kacchan’s genuine surprise at the time and his gruff, yet sweet apologies, he would be a dead man already.

But Izuku still isn’t satisfied. Kacchan needs a break, and Izuku needs attention, stat. There’s only one solution: Izuku’s gonna annoy the shit out of Kacchan. So Izuku sucks in another breath and pouts at the ceiling. “Kacchaaaaan!”

Kacchan sighs, but he doesn’t respond. The silence in the room grows thick with expectation; Izuku’s long-perfect attention-seeking tone signals the start of the game they play every day.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clack of keys and occasional buzz from Kacchan’s work phone. Izuku wriggles against his plush seat, making the leather squeak obnoxiously, and clears his throat daintily, earning himself a glance. “Kacchan, I’m hungry…” Izuku peaks at Kacchan from beneath fluttering eyelashes.

Kacchan shifts his eyes back to his computer and types another line, pointedly loud against the room’s still silence.

When they play this game, whoever breaks first (or whoever wants whatever they’re after more) will relent and go to the other, so this can go one of two ways; Izuku will pull himself from his lounging position to drape himself over Kacchan, or Kacchan will pull himself from his work and lavish Izuku with the attention he deserves.

Today, Izuku takes it upon himself to move things forward—Kacchan is in one of those moods where it could take hours to break him down, and Izuku needs results now.

So with an impatient, gusty sigh pulled deep from his lungs, Izuku heaves himself up and slinks over to Kacchan’s grand desk, stalking up from behind him. When Kacchan makes the mistake of glancing at Izuku from the corner of his eye, Izuku pounces.

Izuku wrenches Kacchan’s chair around and jumps into his lap, laying himself over Kacchan as well as the plush arms of his chair. Kacchan grunts out a quiet oof at the sudden weight but wraps an arm around his waist nonetheless.

“I’m working, Deku,” Kacchan says dryly.

“Actually, Kacchan, I think you’ll find that you’re cuddling me and giving me attention right now, and I can’t imagine why you’d want to stop.”

Kacchan exhales quietly and wrestles down the corners of his lips—it’s not quite a smile, but it’s a good enough start for Izuku. “I have a lot to do, so as much as I’d love to keep giving you all the attention you desire, I really do have to get back to work.”

Izuku wraps an arm around Kacchan’s neck and pretends to think, then shakes his head solemnly. “Unfortunately, it’s a no from me. I’m hungry and I want lunch.”

“Then go get lunch.”

Izuku gives Kacchan a look for being deliberately obtuse.

“I’ll order in for you, then,” Kacchan offers.

Izuku huffs and pushes himself away from his comfortable spot against Kacchan’s broad chest. “Not good enough, Kacchan! We organised a lunch date, so I am getting a lunch date. Now.” Izuku sticks out his chin and dares Kacchan to say no.

Eyes lock. Izuku stares with determination, burying his will into impenetrable crystal red and steadfastly ignoring their alluring pull. Kacchan makes an aborted noise in the back of his throat, as if he was about to say something stupid but thought better of it, and finally sighs.

“Half an hour.”

Izuku smiles sweetly. “Two. You’re late, so you’ve accrued interest.”

Kacchan decides to focus on their negotiations over Izuku’s mockingly business-like tone: “Forty-five is the best you’re going to get from me.”

“An hour, not including travel time, or I’ll get our contract from your room and tear it up myself.” Izuku juts out a petulant lip. He’d never do it, but it gets his point across—Izuku isn’t budging on this.

Kacchan stares hard for a moment, then sags and rests his head in the crook of Izuku’s neck. “You’re such an annoying little shit,” he murmurs, warm against Izuku’s skin.

Izuku hides his smile in Kacchan’s hair and holds him tight. Another victory secured.

/-/

The cafe is a relaxing, familiar space for Izuku. He’s been a regular since before his arrangement with Kacchan began, and when it breached the confines of Kacchan’s highrise office, it was only natural Izuku would drag Kacchan to his favourite little spot.

After enough of their regular visits, the staff have stopped staring at Kacchan and his crisp suits and shiny Rolex watches, and they interact more or less normally with the pair when they stop by.

They place their orders, as usual, and Kacchan pays, as usual, before they settle in their favourite corner, waiting for drinks and food.

Izuku relaxes into his plush chair. He breathes in happiness, the scent of sugar and coffee and Kacchan’s handsome cologne, and breathes out his worries. He’s already plotting ways to extend the hour he was so graciously granted.

On the table before him is a generous slice of cake, which is ‘not a meal,’ according to Kacchan, but Izuku wanted it and he doesn’t care what Kacchan has to say about it. Kacchan is still waiting on his own food; some kind of salmon dish, which is about the fanciest thing he might be able to get his hands on at a casual place like this.

Before Kacchan can grouse at Izuku further, Izuku digs into his treat with no regard for manners, or as Kacchan calls them, “basic fucking social etiquette.” Whenever Kacchan attempts to spout this particular kind of bullshit, Izuku rather enjoys pointing out the hypocrisy of Kacchan of all people criticising other people’s social graces.

Izuku glances at Kacchan and licks his lips before he fills his mouth with fluffy, sugary goodness, making eye-contact with him as he lets out an exaggerated moan. “So good,” Izuku takes care to lick his lips and smiles, warm and sweet like molten honey.

Kacchan rolls his eyes, but he swallows like his mouth is dry. “You’re a damn menace, you little brat,” he says hoarsely, despite the way his eyes have been stuck on Izuku’s lips since he licked them.

“Hey!” Izuku kicks out with all the gentleness of a fussy toddler, landing a solid kick on Kacchan’s shin. “Don’t be mean. You would’ve missed our lunch date altogether if I hadn’t dragged you here.” Izuku tilts his head and gives an Oscar-worthy kicked-puppy pout.

“Deku…” Kacchan obviously misses the point of his pouting by a mile, because now he just looks sad, and that is not what Izuku was going for! “I’m sorry I forgot, baby. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, it’s just...”

“You’re busy,” Izuku finishes for him, and leans across the table to (affectionately) swat his dumb boyfriend’s head. “I know. I’m not mad, but I do want your attention right now, so cut out the sadness and shower me with compliments like you’re supposed to.”

This earns a snort of laughter from Kacchan, who finally catches on and plays along with their usual game. His whole face brightens with his smile. “Ah yes, of course, dear. How could I spend even a second not overwhelming you with compliments?”

Izuku nods seriously. “Exactly. I’m just so shocked. You should know better than to neglect me by now,” Izuku winks, “Daddy.”

Kacchan makes a point of rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling broadly now, all teeth and crinkled eyes. “Alright, you’ve made your point, asshole. Eat your stupid cake already.”

/-/

Once they’ve eaten, and the redundant alarm Kacchan had set goes off, they return to the car. It’s time for Izuku to execute his plan.

Before Kacchan can put his belt on like the square he is, Izuku swings a leg over his lap and wraps himself around his boyfriend. Kacchan raises a questioning eyebrow before Izuku makes his demand: “Take me shopping.”

Kacchan smacks his head back against the headrest dramatically. “You have my card. I’ll have the driver drop you off wherever you want to go, okay?”

“I said take me shopping, not send me. You have to be there or there’s no use! Kacchan needs to come with me.”

Kacchan looks sad, then, and the stupid man has apparently learnt a thing or two from Izuku, because he’s got the bestest, heart-wrenchingest puppy-dog eyes without even trying. Resting his forehead against Izuku’s, Kacchan sighs softly against his lips. “You know I spend as much time as I can with you, baby. I can only ignore my work for so long, for you.”

Izuku aches, sudden and raw. “Oh, Kacchan… I know you’re busy, you work so hard! Kacchan really is amazing. But sometimes I want to be selfish and snatch up more of your time. You put too much pressure on yourself at work. You have so many employees so you don’t have to run yourself in the ground.”

“There are things my employees can’t do-”

“Like stopping you from working yourself to death? Right, that’s my job.” Izuku wiggles in Kacchan’s lap and captures his lips in a whisper-soft kiss. “So let me take care of you.” Izuku flutters his eyelashes and pulls his trump card. “Please, Daddy?” he asks, words sugar-sweet on his lips.

Cheeks glowing a suspicious strawberry red, Kacchan huffs and grabs Izuku by the waist, easily picking him up off his lap and depositing him on the seat next to him. He waits patiently for Kacchan to break, all the while butterflies dance in Izuku’s belly at his Daddy’s casual display of strength.

“The hell do you need so badly anyway?”

Truthfully, Izuku has no idea what he would wish to buy. Spoiled as he is, there are few things he’s wanted through life that he doesn’t now own, thanks to Kacchan. “I saw this gorgeous lingerie set and I just have to try it on before I buy it. And I need you there to tell me how good it looks,” Izuku states matter-of-factly.

Kacchan clears his throat and pinches Izuku’s cheek. “Fine. Let’s go look at this lingerie, then, baby.”

/-/

Izuku drags Kacchan out of the car by his hand and refuses to let go even after they’ve made it inside the shopping center.

“Come on, come on, I wanna see what this store has!” With Kacchan in tow, Izuku makes a beeline for his favourite lingerie store.

Izuku chatters away as he makes his way up and down the store, fluttering about pretty displays and shiny, luxurious lingerie sets hung up on the walls. He semi-consciously gives Kacchan a consistent stream of observations, rhetorical questions and mumbled postulations about what Kacchan might like best. He picks out half a dozen sets in just a few minutes, handing each one over to Kacchan for him to judge and/or hold like a handsome sentient display rack.

Soon enough, Kacchan flags down someone from the store to do the grunt work for him as he follows Izuku around the store like a loyal dog, face warring between fondness and annoyance.

Izuku is quite certain that the fondness far outweighs the annoyance, though. Izuku is, after all, impossible to hate.

After completing one circuit of the store, Kacchan interrupts Izuku before he can begin on a second. “What happened to the ‘one’ set you wanted, huh?” The man crosses his arms like a brute, biceps flexing handsomely as he pours disapproval into the question.

Izuku tuts at him. “There’s nothing wrong with browsing. Just look at how pretty this one is!” Izuku pulls out the dainty belt and harness set he was looking at, wiggling it around for Kacchan’s judgment.

“Mm,” Kacchan acknowledges, carefully collected as he judges the set. With his nod of approval, Izuku gleefully adds it to his soon-to-be-towering pile of things to try on, heedless of the fact that Kacchan immediately passes it off to the poor retail worker trailing after them.

Kacchan crosses his arms. “Don’t think I don’t realise what you’re doing, baby boy.”

Izuku ought to feel sheepish at being caught out so easily, but it’s to be expected when he’s trying to con Kacchan. Instead, he tilts his head and bats his big, round eyes, the perfect picture of innocence. “But Daddy, what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Kacchan crosses his arms, but Izuku’s got him there. Kacchan wants to see Izuku in this lingerie just as much as Izuku wants to try them on. And if all of this has the bonus of Izuku keeping Kacchan to himself for a little longer, then they don’t need to talk about that, really.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Kacchan says, and Izuku giggles, wrapping his arms around his Daddy’s neck.

“I can think of a few reasons,” he laughs. “Now come tell me how pretty I look in these!”

/-/

The driver has to help them get everything into the car. As soon as they’re in, Kacchan orders the driver to start the car and get them back to his work quickly.

It’s cute that Kacchan thinks they’d be going anywhere near his office if not for Izuku allowing it.

“Are you satisfied now, brat?” Kacchan asks, pulling on his seatbelt only after the car has started moving (ooh, rebellious).

Izuku hums. He takes a long few moments to rearrange the copious amount of bags around him, just because he can. He pretends to think very hard about it before nodding exaggeratedly. “Yes, I think I am. For today, at least.”

When Kacchan groans, Izuku shuts him up with a kiss, and they smile like kids in love against each other’s lips.

/-/

Deku seems to have tuckered himself out during their shopping trip, which is understandable considering the sheer amount of clothes he insisted he try on before making Katsuki buy everything for him. He spends the car ride back draped over Katsuki’s side, giving a docile little mumble every now and then when he sees a dog on the sidewalk or a pretty flower that apparently reminds him of Katsuki’s eyes.

(How can the fucker get even cuter than usual just because he tired himself out being a whiny brat all day? How is that fair at all to Katsuki’s heart? Not to mention his wallet...)

(It’s not like Katsuki can’t afford it, but damn, lingerie is surprisingly fucking expensive.)

Katsuki carefully shakes Deku awake when they arrive, because he has learnt the hard way that if he leaves Deku to doze or wakes him too quickly, there will be hell to pay. So he accepts Deku’s blindly groping hand into his own and leads him into the building, where Izuku says something vague about harassing his friend in reception and stumbles off, bleary-eyed.

Katsuki has some interns come down and transfer Deku’s things into his private car so he can attempt to get some work done before Deku makes it upstairs. Deku usually settles down after a few hours of monopolising Katsuki’s time and attention, but with the mood he’s in today, Katsuki doesn’t like his chances of getting anything else done.

He’s gotten as far as opening up an email from a partner company when the door clicks open and Deku sashays in like he owns the place.

And, okay. Katsuki owns the place, and Deku has him wrapped around his pinky finger, so he does own the place in every way but name. But only Katsuki is allowed to know that, god damn it.

“You look like a bumbling fawn like that,” Katsuki informs him, just to see Deku’s sleepy eyes flash with indignation, and watch his cheeks glow a pretty, flustered pink.

Deku’s response doesn’t disappoint, and his nose even scrunches up like a disgruntled bunny, but Katsuki’s gone and shot himself in the foot because now Deku is stomping up to him in a way that says he means business. Deku collapses heavily and claims the space of Katsuki’s lap, steadfast in the fact that it is his and his alone.

Deku slaps him petulantly on the chest. “Meanie,” he mumbles, and curls up on Katsuki’s lap, nestling his head beneath his chin and settling against him, a puzzle piece slotted perfectly in its place. “I’m tired,” Deku says, as if that isn’t obvious already.

Kastuki huffs, presses a feather-soft kiss to the crown of his head. “Just rest, idiot.”

“‘Mkay Daddy…”

Katsuki strokes his fingers through the softness of Izuku’s hair and cradles him as Deku’s body relaxes into Katsuki’s own. “Good boy,” he murmurs.

Pressed tenderly together, Deku continues babbling quietly to fill the peaceful sunset air. Katsuki nods along and holds his baby securely in his arms until he floats off into sleep.

Clack clack clack. With a watchful eye on Deku, lovely and sleep-soft against his chest, Katsuki quietly gets back to work.

#bakudeku #katsudeku #bnha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #sugar daddy AU #my fic #commissioned writing #commission #post #long post

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myonlypen · 2 years ago

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Reading this made me want to infodump my experiences with bullying so sorry for the long post.

There's no real structure to this post, just a stream of memories I want to get down somewhere. I'll probably edit even more stuff I remember in later.

Sometimes I think I'm exaggerating to myself the extent of the bullying I experienced at school as an excuse for me having no irl friends for the 10+ years since I graduated. Like "I'm probably just a shitty person and I'm just making excuses for myself."

But then I speak to someone I knew from school who says "yeah I remember when you were bullied. Like that time when..." and they recall a story that I just don't remember at all. Did they misremember someone that happened to someone else? Was it so traumatic that I blocked it out of my memory? Was it such a normal occurrence that I didn't bother to remember it in the same way that I don't remember what I had for a specific meal a month ago?

Then there's the stuff I do remember. There were some boys who did do the physical bullying thing. One of them was a year older than me but our schedule aligned in such a way that our classes used the changing room at the same time. There were no windows so what he did was he'd turn the light out, sneak up behind me and grab me shouting "rape! rape!" and swing me violently from side to side. On more than one occasion I was injured by this (changing rooms have wooden benches and metal hooks in them after all). I had to go home a couple of times due to my face being bashed in and my glasses broken by him doing this, and another time it was because I got a nasty gash all the way down my leg. After camera phones became commonplace, he used to engage in what was called "happyslapping". Which basically just means, filming the assaults you commit for entertainment.

There was another boy who, after PE, would announce how sweaty he was, reach down his underwear and rub his hand around, and then rub it on my face.

I was stabbed a few times by sharp but not dangerous objects like pens and springs. I still have a scar on my left wrist from a particularly bad one.

Then there was the psychological bullying.

In primary school girls used to recoil in horror whenever I was near, exclaiming that they'd catch my "germs".

In secondary school they would approach me and "ask me out" and if I said yes they'd laugh at how hilarious it was that I believed someone could like me. If I said no, they'd laugh at how hilarious it was that I already knew that people would only ever ask me out as a joke.

People would laugh at me for the embarrassing things I'd written on MySpace the previous night. I never had a MySpace account. Someone was deliberately impersonating me. Nobody believed me when I told them this, or at least pretended to not believe me.

One kid started a rumour that I wet myself on a school trip. This is the same one who later, on a similar school trip, tried to pull a Shinji Ikari on me.

On another school trip a boy convinced me I had woken up late and had missed breakfast and wouldn't be allowed to eat anything until the evening. When I started crying he went down to the other boys' dorm rooms inviting them to come and watch me crying my eyes out (which made me cry even more). He then went on to tease me about this incident for years.

On another school trip to a different city a bunch of us had different lectures to go to and the teachers said after they were finished we could go around the city for a few hours but were adamant we did it in groups and nobody should go around by themselves. Nobody waited for me, I got out of my lecture and everyone had already gone. So I was left sitting alone next to the school minibus for a couple of hours.

Then there's the whole "always picked last in sports" kind of thing. And blocking your passage in the corridor/on the yard while you're trying to get somewhere. Kicking water from rain puddles on you while you're eating, ruining your food and clothes in one go.

Trying to gaslight me into thinking that Charizard evolved into a 4th stage (this was pre-gen 6) by getting multiple people in on the lie.

Saying my name at me when they walked past me.

That last one - for some reason that is the one that sticks in my memory the most. Because this is the kind of "microaggression" OP mentions above. If I went to a teacher and said I was being bullied, and they asked how, and I said "they're saying my name at me", I'd sound crazy. And that was why it was so effective and why it's the first thing that jumps to mind when I try to remember what bullying was like. It's also why I try to tell myself that the bullying wasn't that bad - because I am treating my younger self with exactly the same dismissiveness that I feared the teachers or my parents would have.

I did have some friends while I was at school. One time I was at the bus stop and people started picking on me, insisting I was a freak for not being interested in cars. My "friend" was doing this too, and when I asked him why he said "it's called joining in, it's how you make friends". That's always stuck with me. Making friends at someone else's expense.

Other people pretended I could trust them so they could spike my food. They knew I was a vegetarian and they enjoyed trying to "prove" that it was "all in my head" - because they apparently thought it was supposed to be an allergy and not a choice. So they tried to trick me into eating meat. When we became old enough to drink alcohol, they knew I didn't do that either. So they enjoyed giving me coke and conveniently not mentioning it had rum or vodka mixed in.

One "friend" convinced me to confide in him who I had a crush on. ...which of course he went on to tell everyone.

One friend I made was gay. He didn't have any friends either because of homophobia in the school. However, he was kind of gross too - he clearly developed a crush on me which would be fine if he didn't start doing things like trying to video call me even after I explicitly declined and said things like "what are you wearing". After he got too creepy I started trying to distance myself from him, to which everyone else in the school responded by calling me homophobic as if they had always been anti-homophobia.

I also have a vague memory one guy who referred to anything brown (such as mud) as the N-word spreading rumours that I was racist. He said he was an authority because he had black ancestry. He's one of the whitest ginger people you could imagine

Teachers were, of course, useless. Whether they blamed the bully and the victim equally, or just blaming the victim entirely. One teacher told me off for crying once. Another time I was punched in the gut while waiting for my turn batting in baseball and the teacher responded by banning both the bully and myself from playing. Once during a school dance I was being pushed around and eventually fell to the ground. A teacher came up to me and punished me as if it was my fault.

One teacher became aware of a happyslapping video he found of me, which I guess was a good thing, but he must know where to go to find illicit videos because a few years later he was arrested for sharing videos online from cameras he had hidden in the students' toilets.

When I went on holiday I was terrified that someone from school would see me. Even though it was unlikely to happen, even though there's nothing wrong with being on holiday, even though if there were something wrong with it, the other person would have to admit to it too in order to make fun of me for it, it still weighed on my mind. This made holidays almost as stressful as term time for me.

no piece of teen media has ever accurately depicted the quiet psychological warfare of bullying. bullies on TV are always dumb brutes and not the evil geniuses of emotional manipulation that they are in real life. being given a wedgie and having your lunch money stolen is nothing in comparison to a classmate quietly creating a taboo against speaking to you that they intend to enforce against all the other kids. it’s nothing like continuous cutting comments from people you thought were being nice to you. that way that the work of one kid can make you feel like every person on earth silently hates you and that you are dirty, disgusting, worthless, creepy and useless. that you can have friends but many of them will not speak to you at school for fear of the social consequences on their end. how that damage lasts in any social setting for the rest of your life

#personal #bullying #long post #rant #ramble

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soulmate-game · 3 years ago

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Well, here is the stupid thing I was alluding to. It’s mostly a filler chapter, but yeah.

Harley’s Plea for Help, Chapter 3

“Well, that took a while,” a relatively deep female voice smoothly drawled. The plants placed right next to the window pulled away, no longer blocking the pathway inside. The two figures who were perched right outside the windowsill took the invitation and climbed inside, the shorter of the two looking at the woman who had spoken and smiling widely.

“Auntie Ivy!” Marinette happily exclaimed, making the redhead across from her grin back.

“That’s me. It sure is nice to actually see you in person, little Marigold,” she held out her arms for a hug, which Marinette instantly ran in to accept. “Video calls are never quite enough, are they? You’re so tiny! Are you sure you eat alright?”

“Auntie Ivyyyyyy,” Marinette whined, knowing full well that Ivy was just teasing her.

“So, what took you all so long?” Ivy asked Red Hood, even as she kept her arms wrapped around her soon-to-be daughter in law. “Usually you bats are all about getting back on the streets to punch people, we didn’t think you’d be bringing her in at almost one in the morning.”

Hood shrugged, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Your little garden fairy nearly gave us the slip. Went straight out the back exit instead of doin’ anything showy like we half expected and we almost missed her.”

“I stopped as soon as I noticed who they were, I swear!” Marinette pulled away from Ivy, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t expect Momma to send them to babysit me before our first full day being in Gotham. In hindsight, though, I really should have.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Ivy agreed with a smirk, ruffling Marinette’s hair and making her pigtails go a little crooked. “And I know for a fact that you’ve done some stunts off your balcony back in Paris, so at least I know you can be responsible and hold yourself back from doing the same here. Must get that from me, because we both know it doesn’t come from Harley.”

Marinette and Hood both had to laugh at that. Being responsible was definitely not a trait that Marinette could have inherited from anybody in her family tree, that was for sure.

“Are ya makin’ fun of me in front of my daughter?” the comically scandalized voice announced the arrival of one Harley Quinn, who walked into the room in white onesie pajamas with a poker print on them. All of the “joker” cards were crossed out heavily with red sharpie, and a few of them had black-sharpie devil horns and handlebar mustaches vandalizing them. Marinette even caught one such card with a googly eye on it, the matching eye having fallen off and leaving only a small circle of since-dried hot glue where it used to be. “If you guys are gonna be that way, fine! Ivy dyes her hair!”

“No she doesn’t,” Marinette deadpanned, clearly fighting against a giant grin. The corners of her lips gave her away, they never stopped twitching with repressed mirth. “But you do. I got the pictures to prove—- aah!” Harley tackled her daughter to the ground, attacking her with tickles immediately.

“Take it back! My hair is naturally blond!”

“Yeah, naturally— hahahahaha! Sandy blonde! You— hahaha! Have just as much brown— stop I can’t breathe! hahahaha!— as yellow!”

“Hmph,” Harley finally backed off, crossing her eyes and looking away from Marinette with an exaggerated pout. “How dare you reveal my darkest secret?”

“I was a natural redhead even before I got my powers,” was all Ivy had to say, looking all too amused at this turn of events. “Your original costume completely covered your hair.”

“Don’t worry, Harley,” Red Hood butted in, reminding the three girls that he was still here. His tone suggested that he was definitely smiling under his helmet. “We found out about your hair dye years ago.”

“I just cover up the brown parts! It’s not like I’m changin’ much,” she argued before standing up again. “Thanks for gettin’ my cupcake back safely, little birdie. Oh, that's right! I made cupcakes! Hang on, lemme grab one for your trip back!” with that, she span on her heels and ran back further into the apartment. Marinette dashed over to Hood, immediately shoving him to the window.

“Quick, save yourself! Momma can’t bake for her life!” she whispered urgently. “I’ll say you were called away for an emergency, just hurry!”

“It’s not even a lie, getting away from Harley’s baking is an emergency,” Ivy agreed, waving as the vigilante took their advice and fled. It was only three seconds later that Harley slid back into the room, nearly falling due to the feet of her onesie having pretty much zero friction. Her face immediately fell when she saw that her victim was gone, leaving her standing there with a cupcake that was about twice as much frosting as actual cake, covered in sprinkles like a kid’s craft project that was smothered in glitter. The frosting was also shapeless, just heaped on the cake like a half-melted scoop of ice cream. She sighed in despair.

“There goes my chance of giving a bat diabetes. You guys warned him, didn’t ya?”

They both nodded shamelessly. “We’re not that cruel, Harley,” Ivy defended, getting up from her spot on her cushioned armchair and wrapping an arm around her fiance’s waist before she kissed the top of her head gently. “Hood got our little Marigold back safe and sound, and he’s even started a garden at his apartment. He doesn’t deserve to be poisoned by you.”

“I thought you said he got a single cactus at the flea market last month,” Harley deadpanned, making Ivy shrug.

“Might as well be a garden for him, and it’s something he’s not likely to kill so that’s a plus to me. He’s actually taking really good care of the little baby.”

“Speaking of garden!” Marinette gently took the sad excuse of a pastry away from her mom and sat it down on a side table before ushering both of them over to the living room and onto the sofa. “My garden back home is growing so big, I don’t think I can keep everything much longer. I barely have room to walk on the terrace, with all the vines and leaves and branches. Got any ideas of what I can do?”

“Of course! Do you have pictures, Marigold?”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slipping back through her hotel window at six in the morning was risky, since it involved climbing the wall and hoping nobody saw, but her classmates were so unpredictable that it was the only way she could be sure nobody would find out that she had violated curfew and snuck out. Of course, having Red Robin waiting outside her mom’s apartment’s terrace to escort her back helped. At least she knew that no street cams would record her comings or goings, and his grappling hook made the whole scale-the-hotel-wall business much more efficient.

Once she was inside, she sighed happily. “Thanks, now—“ her apology was cut off as Red Robin held up a finger to tell her to wait.

“Hold that thought, be right back. Don’t move.”

Thinking, rightfully, that something was wrong, Marinette obeyed. She watched Red Robin leap off of her hotel balcony and disappear into the streets. Immediately, she began a search to make sure her room had been left untampered— everything important had been packed in the backpack that she had taken to her mom’s place, but still. Could never be too careful. By the time she finished checking for bugs or any signs of snooping, Red Robin landed back on her balcony.

“Here we go.”

Turning to face him, Marinette opened her mouth to ask what the problem had been— only to tear up a little and walk over to the vigilante.

“Oh, my hero. Truly, my one and only savior. Knight in shining red Kevlar. I’m running on two hours of sleep and you have read my mind!” The pigtailed drama queen eagerly took the coffee that he offered her, and he sipped from a larger cup that looked like he had grabbed it from the same place. Marinette almost instantly sighed in gratitude when the hot drink lightly scalded her tongue. This. This was the elixir of life.

To his credit, Red Robin was able to restrain himself to merely an amused smirk. Probably because he was running on just as little sleep as she was. “Sorry it’s only a small, I figured it was best to have something you could finish quickly and easily hide the evidence for. If you need more caffeine, I happen to know that Wayne Enterprises has a very good coffee shop in their main hall. You’ll be touring there today, right?” He asked, taking another sip as he waited for the answer that he already knew.

Marinette nodded absently, drinking in the euphoria of her coffee as she tried to both savor it yet finish it as quickly as safely possible. When she came up for air, she said; “Yeah, that’s right. We’re touring Wayne Enterprises for most of the day, having lunch there, and leaving for dinner after the tour. Then we have a visit to the Gotham Museum of Fine Art, and we’ll stay there until about eight-thirty before heading back to the hotel.”

Red Robin nodded, then turned and looked out the window at the slowly rising sun. Sunrise was always a bit later in Gotham, partly because of the abundance of high-rises and partly because of the thick cloud cover and ever-present fog on the edges of the city making everything seem darker than it should have been. He had to be at work soon himself, which is why he had been chosen to escort her to the hotel in the first place, but that meant that he had to be heading off.

“Alright. We arranged for a bodyguard we trust to keep an eye on your class during the WE tour, but he doesn't know who you are or that we’re the ones who asked. We’re still in the process of arranging someone to shadow you after the tour, but we’ll tell you about that once it’s solidified. Until then, follow the usual self-defense procedures if you suspect anyone of following you. You have the panic button we gave you?”

Marinette nodded, gulping down the last of her coffee and carefully putting it in her room’s tiny trash can. “Got it. Thanks, again. Seriously,” she met his eyes— or, probably did since they were hidden behind that weird white film that the whole Batfam had covering the eyeholes of their masks. “I mean it. For listening to me, for listening to Mom. It means a lot. I’ll keep the panic button on me, and I’ll use it if I think I can’t handle a situation on my own. I’ll cooperate with the people you get to watch over the class, and I’ll do my best to not get into any trouble. No promises, but I’ll do my best,” she maintained eye contact until Red Robin nodded, hiding his expression behind his coffee cup. After a second, he cleared his throat.

“Well then. We’ll contact you once we have anything to say about your intel. Until then, I gotta go. And by the way?”

Marinette tilted her head curiously as Red Robin paused for just a moment on her balcony railing, aiming a smirk back at her. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

And if she couldn’t help but smile widely as he grappled off into the fog-veiled sunrise? Well, only she had to know. She wasted no time closing and locking the glass balcony door, and pulling the curtains over it completely. Once that was done, she couldn’t help but do a little shimmy of Joy. She was caffeinated, she met Auntie Ivy in person for the first time, she got to sleep next to her momma— and she was in Gotham! Technically her hometown— or town she was conceived in? Didn’t matter. Point was, even with the chaos and dark energy clouding the very air, she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in that city. Like that was where she was always meant to end up, where she could thrive and the environment that she was made to thrive in. The environment that she was born to start fixing.

She beamed at herself in her bathroom mirror as she gave herself one more once-over. Yeah, so far her visit to Gotham was going much better than she could have hoped. Now, she just had to make sure it stayed that way.

Three businesslike raps sounded against the door to her room, just in time for Marinette to feed Tikki one more cookie and straighten her purse on her shoulder. Madame Mendelieve’s voice called out from the other side of the door in her usual no-nonsense bark;

“Dupain-Cheng! Room check! It’s time to get up, we’re meeting down in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Marinette ran up to the door, not quite able to contain her energy, and swung it open with her trademark large, beaming smile.

“Way ahead of you, Madame Mendelieve!”

Her science teacher blinked, adjusting her glasses on her nose as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Ah. You’re already awake and ready?”

Marinette giggled and nodded. “Yup! I was so excited for the tour that I could barely sleep! Does the hotel breakfast include free coffee?”

—*—*—*—*—*

The hotel breakfast did, in fact, include coffee. What it did not include, however, was free coffee that Marinette could reasonably stomach. Especially after the heaven in a cup that Red Robin had gotten for her earlier, the watered down motor oil in the hotel lobby had been unbearable. She had barely managed two sips before regretfully throwing the rest away. Which is what brought her to stand in line at the very same coffee shop that Red Robin had mentioned was in the main hall of Wayne Enterprises, as the rest of her class mingled and waited for their teachers to check their tour group in and their tour guide to arrive.

“Hmm. Sorry, this is my first time ordering here,” she apologized when she reached the counter, gaining a slight lopsided grin from the barista at the register. “Um, I usually like strong coffee, with a lot of caffeine, but I also like something sweet. I don’t need anything too complicated though, do you have any recommendations?”

The barista gave her a customer service smile that seemed just a tad softer at the edges than usual. “Sure! So, we can add an extra shot or two of espresso to any of our drinks, to make it stronger and give it an extra kick. If you’re looking for good sweet flavors, the classics are our white chocolate or caramel. But we also have a seasonal syrup right now that I personally love, which is our cinnamon butterscotch. Did you wanna try that?”

Marinette smiled widely. “That sounds delicious! Then, if I could have your largest size café latte, hot, with… two extra shots and that syrup? Does that sound good?”

The barista actually let loose a soft laugh, already keying in the order. “If you’re a coffee lover and a sweet tooth at the same time, then you’ll love it. If not, come back during your tour’s lunch break and I’ll make you something else.”

Marinette made a little more small talk as she handed over the proper cash for the order, and grabbed her drink after just another minute’s wait. She turned around, taking a sip of the unsurprisingly heavenly coffee and started off to join her class.

Only to realize none of them were where she had left them. She sighed, starting to reach into her purse to see if anyone had texted her about where they were going, but a heavy presence stopped her. She could feel him approaching from in front of her, slightly to her right, but she couldn’t hear him at all. On guard, she straightened up and turned to observe the potential threat.

A security guard. Marinette blinked, running over what she had been told earlier that morning. Was he..?

He seemed to notice her instinctually defensive posture because he raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” he apologized. “I’m the guard that was assigned to your tour group. I offered to stay behind until you got your coffee while the rest of your group went ahead and got the run-down on all the boring rules and whatnot of the tour. Figured you’d already know everything they had to say anyway, you’re the class president right?”

Marinette relaxed her posture, nodding and sending the man a relieved smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, that explains why they left without me then. Usually Madame Mendelieve is strict about following rules though, how’d you convince her to go on without me?”

The man chuckled, jerking his head to show that she should follow him as he began to lead the way to a side door. Marinette kept her guard up just in case, but wasn’t too worried. If nothing else, she was still in the middle of a super crowded building and the other security guards around didn’t seem concerned. She could easily yell for help if she needed to.

“Well, can’t you tell it was my devilish charm?” He teased, grinning. He waited until she rolled her eyes to continue; “but really, I’m like a second tour guide. She made me show a lotta proof that I’m actually assigned to you guys and not just faking it, not that I can blame her. Eventually she saw the logic in my suggestion and agreed. See, there they are,” he pointed casually ahead of them in the large side hallway they had entered. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway was her class at what looked to be the tail-end of a standard rules-and-guidelines speech from the tour guide. “By the way,” the guard spoke up again, holding his hand out. “My name’s Jason. You’ll be seeing me more often, since I’m supposed to guard you guys for all of your visits to the Tower. Call me if you need help with anything, ‘kay kid?”

Marinette grinned, now positive that this guy really was the guard that Red Robin had said was assigned to her class. She switched the hand she was holding her coffee in so that she could properly grab Jason’s hand for a shake.

“Got it, Monsieur Jason. Let’s both hope I don’t end up needing your help though, I think that would be easier on both of us,” she joked, earning a chuckle from the large man. And— yeah, now that she was relaxed, he really was big, wasn’t he? Then again, Marinette didn’t always realize when people were a bit larger or more buff than they should be. Living with her dad had seriously skewed her perception of the normal size of an adult male (which, she learned when she was seven, most definitely was not almost seven feet tall and muscled enough to make a pro wrestler jealous). But she would like to think she had gotten better in that aspect, and Jason was definitely a big guy. A little over six feet tall, she thought, and though the guard outfit hid a good portion of his physique, she could tell he carried enough muscle to do serious damage if he wanted to.

With a wave, she left him to join her class and sipped at her latte. She had figured that the Bat Clan’s criteria for civilians that they would put to guard her class had to be high, but now she had to wonder just how high. Most police officers or security guards were fit, sure, but not like Jason. Casting a quick glance back at him, she confirmed that he had quite a few faded but visible scars. Again, more than your average officer even for Gotham. Who had they tasked with her class’ safety, exactly?

An elbow in her side distracted her from her thoughts, forcing her to blink and stop her cup from going back to her lips. The grin of none other than Adrien Agreste greeted her when she snapped out of her own head long enough to pay attention to her surroundings. He jerked his head to indicate that the class was already starting to move off.

“Come on, Mari or you’ll get left behind again,” he teased. She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes but falling into step beside him as they followed at the back of their class. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gonna marry that coffee. You haven’t zoned out that badly in years,” his tone was light and cheery, but Marinette didn’t miss the concern in his emerald eyes. She sighed, gently bumping her shoulders against his in silent reassurance.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. But this really is good coffee. Elixir of the gods,” then, just to provoke him, she took a giant gulp of the still steaming hot drink. Adrien grimaced in pained sympathy even though Marinette didn’t seem affected at all.

“Oww, Marineeeeeeeeeette,” he whined. “Don’t do that, my throat hurts just watching you guzzle hot coffee like that,” he complained, rubbing at his neck to make his point clear.

“Wimp,” she teased, unrepentant. Adrien just groaned dramatically.

“I’m not a wimp, you’re just concerningly used to burning your throat from the inside out,” he accused. “Anyway, how’d it go?” He was being deliberately vague, but it was obvious to her what he meant. He was only one she had told about visiting her mom, after all, just in case she needed a quick getaway.

In fact, he was the only one of her friends that she had even told about her biological parents. Alix knew too, but only because of time shenanigans. Marinette was fine with it now, but still.

“It went great,” she smiled widely at him, keeping her voice low but casual. “If I have a chance, I’ll introduce you sometime during the trip. I have a feeling you’ll love Auntie Selina, but I have to meet her first. All I have so far are stories.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien agreed easily. “But you don’t have to, you know that right? I’d love to meet your family, but I’m also fine just being your pseudo-brother like I have been up until now. I know it might be a bit… uncomfortable, for you.”

“Nah,” Marinette shrugged. “Nerve wracking, maybe. But that’s also about half the things that I do in my life period, anxiety is no joke. I’ll catastrophize for a while, but I know you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Sounds like they have paw-some taste,” he didn’t even miss a beat with his puns, earning a playful glare for his efforts.

“Never mind. You’re a heathen. Disowned. Who are you?”

“Mariiiiii,” he whined, causing them both to laugh for a while before focusing on the tour.

So far, so good, Marinette thought.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1 Part 2

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman @deathssilentapproach-blog @user00000003 @frieddonutsweets @blur-of-colours @prettylittlebutterflie @ladyqnoirr @a-star-with-a-human-name @mizzy-pop @laurcad123 @dorkus-minimus @chocolatecatstheron @tazanna-blythe @golden-promises @literaryhiraeth @asrainterstellar @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @miraculous-trinity-leo @missanalysis @lovelyautumnsunflower @lolieg @ann0631 @whitetiger1249 @meow-now @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damimari #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #bio!mom harley quinn #eventual daminette #probably #daminette #platonic jasonette #platonic timinette #platonic timari #platonic dickinette #platonic brucinette #Joker can choke on a cactus

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

Mo Xuanyu is banished from Koi Tower, but manages to take Wen Ning (or maybe a captured Nie Mingjue, your choice) with him. Now he has to figure out what to do with a well known fierce corpse. [🎶🎶 anon]

Crybabies - ao3

“Okay,” Xue Yang said, looking up at the ceiling with an expression that suggested he wanted to kill something and probably would, very soon. “What are you crying about now?”

“I don’t have any friends,” Mo Xuanyu explained. Xue Yang wasn’t allowed to kill him – Jin Guangyao said it would be politically inconvenient – so he felt moderately safe around the other man.

“What am I?” Xue Yang said. “Dirt?”

“Way too scary to be friends with someone like me.”

“…good point,” Xue Yang said. “You are kind of pathetic. A real crybaby.”

Mo Xuanyu was pretty used to statements like this.

“Actually,” Xue Yang said, and smiled. “That gives me an idea.”

Mo Xuanyu did not like Xue Yang’s idea.

“I don’t want these types of friends!” he wailed at the door, then, sniffling, turned around. “No offense meant.”

The two fierce corpses stared back at him.

“I’m sure you’re very nice,” Mo Xuanyu said, voice wavering. “Just very, uh…dead.”

Xue Yang cackled from outside the door. “I even took out their controls, just for you!” he sang out. “All the crybabies together in a single room. Have fun!”

And then his footsteps went away.

Shaking, sniffling, Mo Xuanyu turned to look at the two fierce corpses. It turned out they were chained to the wall, which was a bit of a relief.

“…are you the other crybabies?” he asked, curiosity temporarily overwhelming him. There was no one else in the room but them, but it seemed implausible.

Implausible, but apparently correct: tears started dripping down the face of one of the corpses.

“I want to go home,” he said, sounding genuinely miserable.

Mo Xuanyu looked at the other corpse.

“I want to go to his home,” he said, ducking his head and stuttering a little. He didn’t cry, but his eyes wrinkled up, like he wanted to but couldn’t. “It sounds nice.”

Mo Xuanyu had never heard of a home that sounded nice before.

“What’s it like?” he asked.

Mo Xuanyu really hated disappointing people.

It sometimes felt like he’d never done anything else: disappointed his mother when his father lost interest in him and stopped visiting, disappointed his aunt and her family by existing, disappointed his father after he turned out to be useless after he’d gone to all the effort of bringing him back to Lanling City, disappointed his teachers, disappointed his half-brother Jin Guangyao, disappointed – everyone, really.

So when he heard that he was probably going to get kicked out of Lanling, it wasn’t really a surprise. He’d long outworn his welcome, after all.

But then he also heard that they planned to send him back to Mo Manor and just – no.

He couldn’t.

He’d just have to disappoint everyone one more time.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to do this,” Wen Ning said, rubbing his wrists as if it would help return the circulation he didn’t have. “Friends or no friends.”

“They said I was going to have to go home,” Mo Xuanyu said, shivering from terror at the mere thought. “I don’t want to go back to my home. I want to go to his home.”

A-Jue wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffed. He was the biggest crybaby of the lot of them, but it wasn’t his fault; according to Wen Ning, he’d lost a big part of his memory and higher order thinking skills when he’d become a fierce corpse and spent any time that he wasn’t murdering people in a crazy frenzy of rage on Jin Guangyao’s orders at the mental age of about seven or eight.

It also didn’t help that, out of the three of them, he was Jin Guangyao’s favorite.

It was not a good thing, being Jin Guangyao’s favorite.

“We’re going home?” he asked, looking between them, watery eyes and all. “Will Sangsang be there?”

“Maybe?” Mo Xuanyu said, and looked at Wen Ning, who shrugged helplessly. Neither of them had any younger siblings, and Wen Ning hadn’t known anything about politics long before he’d died; he’d been in the dark rather deliberately. “Hopefully.”

“We should try to avoid being seen,” Wen Ning said wisely. “I have an idea.”

“This cart stinks,” A-Jue mumbled, knees pulled to his chest. Even folded up, he was nearly as big as Mo Xuanyu was stretched out. “I hate radishes.”

“I hate radishes too,” Wen Ning said. He looked like he wished he could cry, looking at them, but then again he looked like that a lot; he’d been the first one brought back, so he hadn’t kept the ability to actually shed tears, which was awful and unfair and something they’d have to fix as soon as they had some time and weren’t being chased.

“This was your idea,” Mo Xuanyu pointed out.

“I said it’d work, I didn’t say we’d enjoy it,” Wen Ning said, and Mo Xuanyu had to admit he had a point. No one would look for two fierce corpses and one runaway teenager in the back of a radish cart, and the farmer driving them in the general direction of Qinghe had been more than happy to accept some gold in exchange for not saying a word about them.

(“How d’you know I won’t take your money and sell you out anyway?” he’d asked before they set out.

“Because if you did, we’d prioritize ripping your throat out before we got captured?” Wen Ning suggested. Mo Xuanyu elbowed A-Jue, who obligingly stretched out his hand to demonstrate the length of his reach, the strength of his arm, and the length of his sharp nails.

“…good reason.”)

The ride only got them a day or so of travel north before the farmer had to make a turn that led him further away from Qinghe rather than towards, but they were in the countryside, not a city, and that was already something.

“We can make the rest by foot,” Wen Ning decided, and A-Jue put Mo Xuanyu on his back so that he wouldn’t slow them down. It was surprisingly comfortable. “I hope you’re right about your sect, A-Jue.”

“I am,” A-Jue said. “Sangsang will be there. He’ll know what to do.”

“Isn’t he only two years old?” Mo Xuanyu asked suspiciously.

“If I’m big, he’s big,” A-Jue pointed out. “And if I’m dead, he’s sect leader. It’ll be fine.”

Mo Xuanyu was nominated to be the one to go in and try to get an audience with the sect leader of Qinghe on account of him being the only one not dead.

It was a very compelling argument.

He got into the main city without a problem, gate or no gate, and then walked up to one of the guards outside the main clan complex. “Uh,” he said, fidgeting. “How do I get to see the sect leader?”

The guards looked at him in pity.

“Tell us what you want him for and we can direct you to the appropriate person to help you,” one of them said, not without kindness.

“I’m pretty sure the sect leader is the appropriate person, though…”

“Maybe you haven’t heard,” the other said. “But Sect Leader Nie isn’t actually good at anything.”

“I’m supposed to find him,” Mo Xuanyu said stubbornly. “Just him.”

“Kid. Listen. It’s not happening.”

Mo Xuanyu knew he’d screw this up. “Can you at least pass on a message?” he said hopelessly. “Tell Sangsang that I have something he’d be interested in –”

“Hold up,” the first guard said. “Sangsang?”

“…isn’t that his name?”

The two guards looked at each other. “Maybe you should go in,” the second one said.

“In fact,” the first one said. “We’re going to insist on it.”

“Please stop crying,” the young man with the fan and the frills said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’m under arrest!” Mo Xuanyu howled, tears and snot streaming down his face. “I’ve never been under arrest before!”

“I’m pretty sure that was just an overreaction,” the young man said soothingly. “They didn’t really arrest you, they were just being mean and exaggerating. Weren’t they?”

He looked at the two guards by the door, and Mo Xuanyu followed his gaze.

They both nodded.

“Sorry,” one of them said.

“Didn’t mean it,” the other said.

“Big mistake.”

“Won’t happen again.”

“Do you accept their apology?” the young man said, and Mo Xuanyu nodded. “Good, good. Now go – no, not you, them. You stay where you are.”

Mo Xuanyu sheepishly sat back down.

“Now,” the young man said, putting his elbows on the table. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Uh, maybe?” Mo Xuanyu said. “I was at the Jin sect for a while, but they kicked me out.”

The young man blinked, then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Oh,” he said. “I see. No wonder you’re scared of getting arrested.”

Mo Xuanyu wasn’t sure he understood the connection. Wasn’t being arrested scary everywhere?

“Different question,” the young man said. He was playing with his fan in his hands and not really looking at Mo Xuanyu directly, which was a relief; it made him feel like the other man didn’t really care that much about the answer. “The Nie sect leader…who told you he was called Sangsang?”

“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “It’s a bit complicated. You see, he doesn’t remember things very well, but A-Jue said –”

The fan snapped in two in the young man’s suddenly clenched hands.

It turned out that Nie Huaisang – that was the sect leader’s actual name – was just as much of a crybaby as the rest of them, which he really should have made clear from the beginning. Mo Xuanyu wouldn’t have been nearly as afraid of him if he’d known that.

As it was, he was still hugging a somewhat confused A-Jue (mostly marveling at how large his Sangsang had gotten) and crying his heart out while blubbering a whole lot of incoherent things, so Wen Ning patted the ground next to him and Mo Xuanyu went to sit.

“Is this a good sign?” he checked, and Wen Ning nodded.

“The Nie sect is pretty strong,” he said. “They’ll be able to protect us. Well, the two of you, anyway, I don’t know about me –”

“I don’t think surnames are really the most important thing right now,” Nie Huaisang said, finally pulling away and wiping his red eyes. “You helped bring my da-ge back home; you can stay as long as you like.”

“It really is a nice home,” Mo Xuanyu whispered to Wen Ning, who looked a little impressed.

“I told you,” A-Jue said proudly. He still had an arm wrapped around Nie Huaisang and wasn’t letting go – they’d offered to help Nie Huaisang out of his grip earlier, but he’d politely refused – and he seemed to be settling in very well to his older brother role. It was a bit strange to adjust to, but he was still A-Jue in the end. “I have the best home.”

“It’s nice enough,” Nie Huaisang said, still a bit teary-eyed. “Right. Enough feelings. I need you to tell me everything you remember about your time in Lanling.”

“��everything?” Mo Xuanyu said.

“Everything relevant,” Nie Huaisang clarified.

“You’re not going to like it,” Wen Ning said.

“Probably not, no. Tell me anyway.”

Mo Xuanyu patted Nie Huaisang on the back as he started trying to throw up again – it was all bile and dry heaves by now. It was a human failing that they shared, and the fierce corpses didn’t, although they were sympathetic enough.

“It’s not that bad,” Wen Ning offered. “We’re not really – awake, during much of it. The worst parts.”

That didn’t seem to help.

“He mostly only got mad at me,” A-Jue said, hovering anxiously. “He didn’t like that I didn’t remember him. Said it was no fun. So he didn’t spend that much time with me.”

“I hate him,” Nie Huaisang said. His voice was raspy, his eyes red, and he looked a little bit scary. “I’m going to destroy him.”

“Okay,” A-Jue said at once, because he was a big old softie as well as a crybaby. “We can destroy him. No problem. Just don’t be sad, Sangsang.”

Nie Huaisang’s lip trembled, which rather destroyed the scary effect. “Okay, da-ge,” he said. “I won’t be sad. You’re going to stay here at home with me, and then we’ll focus on making you better, okay?”

“Uh,” Wen Ning said.

“Not the corpse thing,” Nie Huaisang clarified. “The – memory thing.”

“You can fix that?” Mo Xuanyu said, surprised. “How? Senior Jin and Senior Xue both tried really hard and couldn’t manage it.”

“Yes, well,” Nie Huaisang said, and rubbed his eyes. “They don’t know that da-ge was a little kid the first time he picked up Baxia. I think that dying cut off his connection to her, and that she kept everything that was – you know – after. So maybe reconnecting them…”

“That means you’ll be grown up again!” Mo Xuanyu said to A-Jue, who seemed pleased. “That’s great.”

“I’m going to need your help, though,” Nie Huaisang said. He was mostly looking at Wen Ning. “No matter what da-ge says, you helped do – a lot of things, and if we’re going to bring down Jin Guangyao…I’m going to need help.”

“We’ll help you,” Mo Xuanyu said, and Wen Ning nodded. “I mean, we’re not – really helpful. We’re kind of all a bunch of crybabies. But whatever we can do, we will!”

“I appreciate that,” Nie Huaisang said. “Also, don’t underestimate crybabies.”

He smiled.

“We’re a lot more dangerous than you might think.”

#mdzs #mo xuanyu #xue yang #nie mingjue #wen ning #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #crybabies #Anonymous

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peakyblindersxx · 4 years ago

Text

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

#john shelby fluff #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby reader insert #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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sunnyville36 · 4 years ago

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Mamihlapinatapai {part 2}

Thank you all so sooo much for the kind feedback on part 1! Part 2 is coming at you now! 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: injuries, mentions of death/war/murder, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.5k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

A Summer’s Ball | Kingdom of Gu, present day

The next few days were just as tumultuous as the first, Chan and Korenna slowly progressing from treating each other with complete silence, to short-lived bickering, to finally being able to hold a civil conversation for at least a few minutes. You escorted them to more ceremony preparation meetings, then to councils with the foreign affairs ministers, the historians, the priests, each one stressing how this union would be a stepping stone in your two kingdoms’ relations and they should think of it as a huge honor. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the both of them, being reminded over and over how their lives were simply a means to an end, to be controlled at the whim of their fathers’ aspirations.

A turning point finally came when the three of you visited the city surrounding the palace grounds, the prince refusing to miss his weekly visit to the village market. Chan loved to interact with his people, to support their businesses, to hear their grievances, to show he cared. You followed behind the two of them as you walked through the plaza lined with stalls, Chan waving to each of the merchants, Korenna watching him with a mix of reservation and admiration.

“Your people seem to be thriving. I wish I could say the same about our villages.”

You eyed Chan, knew he was forcing himself to hold back a biting remark, likely about how if Lajor’s people were currently suffering, it was the monarchy’s fault. He finally came up with a question, trying his best to keep the conversation going.

“Have you brought up your concerns to your father?”

“I’ve tried, but he doesn’t want to listen to anything I have to say. All he cares about is what he thinks is right, no matter who suffers for it.”

Chan nodded solemnly, “I can understand that.”

Korenna gave him a somber look and appeared to have something more she wanted to say, but was promptly dragged off by a small child wanting to show her his father’s bakery stall.

You nudged Chan’s arm. “See, she’s not so bad, Your Highness. If you give her a chance.”

He started in the direction of the princess, turning to walk backwards and smile at you with his arms out in a lighthearted shrug, “If you say so.”

***

That evening the king was hosting a ball, to celebrate the engagement of the prince. You’d helped Chan dress, his midnight blue velvet ensemble and dark hair set off against the silver crown he wore making him look more like a deity of the moon than an earthly prince. Then you had gone to assist Korenna. You couldn’t deny how beautiful she looked as you watched her from across the room, her champagne colored gown and perfectly curled blonde hair standing out against the relatively muted colors worn by the other attendees. She was standing away from Chan, talking amongst a group of noblemen’s wives and other high powered ladies, but her eyes never strayed far from his back as he talked with Minho and some other knights around a wooden table in the corner.

“You look quite stunning tonight, Y/n. Purple is definitely your color,” came a deep voice on your left, and you turned to see Prince Felix approaching you, his small frame clothed in a breathtaking deep red suit. The younger brother of Prince Minho, Felix had the sunniest personality of anyone you’d ever met, quite contrasting to his voice but in perfect harmony with the bright smile he flashed as he reached your side. It had been several months since you’d last seen him, his studies as apprentice to your kingdom’s Chief Healer taking him to the academy in the highlands far away from the city.

“Prince Felix!” you exclaimed, arms reaching to pull him into a quick hug. “I could say the same for you; that red suits you perfectly, Your Grace.”

Felix laughed, releasing you from his hold. You and he had been close friends since childhood, ever since, at the age of 5, he’d stepped on the hem of your skirt and you’d pushed him into a mud puddle, causing guards to rush over and attempt to have you arrested. His mother and the queen had stepped in, calming the guards as you remorsefully reached out your hand to help him up only to be pulled down into the mud next to him, the both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

“I’ve missed the city. And it seems the city has missed me for all the excitement it’s spun up in my absence.” His eyes followed your gaze to where Korenna had made her way over to Chan, and watched as she led him out to the quiet balcony overlooking the gardens. “How are you taking all of this?”

“I’m fine, Your Grace. What reason would I have not to celebrate such a momentous occasion?”

Felix fixed you with a knowing look, but dropped the subject, content to stand with you at the edge of the dance floor.

“Y/n, I thought I told you not to let Christopher and the princess out of your sight,” came King Bang’s voice from behind you. “The last thing we need is for them to get into one of their verbal sparring matches with the whole court present.”

You turned, lowering your head to the king. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

You left Felix next to the king, his expression turned to one of distaste at his new company, and walked quietly out onto the balcony where the couple was talking.

They were standing closer together than you had ever seen them, leaning forward against the railing’s edge. They seemed to be deep in conversation, Korenna actually reaching her hand up to place it on Chan’s back. It didn’t feel right watching them without their knowledge, so you cleared your throat loudly, causing both their heads to snap up. Chan looked slightly embarrassed, his head tilting forward, but Korenna’s expression was almost unreadable. She stood staring at you for a few seconds, then pursed her lips, nodded her head to Chan, and walked back into the main ballroom as you approached him.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Trust me, Y/n, you didn’t,” came Chan’s tired reply. You wanted to know if she had upset him, to know how you could comfort him.

“What were you discussing?”

A soft song started to make its way out from the half-open door. Chan looked up at you, completely ignoring your question.

“Dance with me?”

Several seconds went by in silence. He reached out his hand, eyes imploring you to say something, to say yes.

This was dangerous. You couldn’t think of a worse position to be caught in, dancing with a betrothed man far above your stature. But you also couldn’t think of a way to say no to him.

You took his hand and he pulled you flush against him immediately. You tried to resist the urge to place your head on his chest, but the feeling of being in his arms was too much, made you feel so safe. So you laid your cheek there and felt a low hum come up through his chest. It was quiet for a while, the two of you simply swaying back and forth, not doing any particular dance. You felt his head rise from where it had been resting on top of your head.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but you look gorgeous tonight Y/n.”

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness.”

“I know. I wanted to tell you again.”

Then he placed his head back down and you continued to spin in slow circles until the song ended. He brought your movements to a stop, taking your hand and kissing the top of it as he leaned forward in an exaggerated bow, “Thank you for the dance, my lady.”

You looked at him with a small smile. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

He returned your smile, turned, and walked back towards the party. You felt your chest tighten, feeling a little too much like your dance had been his way of saying goodbye.

Thinly Veiled Threats | Kingdom of Gu, 6 years ago

“Watch out!”

You turned towards the direction of the voice just in time to see Chan break through the wooden fence in front of you, thrown off his horse by the force of the lance he just took to the chest.

The prince had just turned seventeen, which made him eligible to compete in the annual Four Kingdom Competition, where knights, lords, and even royalty from the continent’s four greatest kingdoms met to determine who among them would be crowned victor in a series of strength tests. His father had of course insisted he enter on his first eligible year, which had led to the activity you were currently engaged in, training a boy who was used to classrooms, libraries, and diplomacy lessons the intricacies of hand to hand combat. The tasks ranged from archery to sword fighting, wrestling to jousting, and while Chan knew his way around a broadsword and shield, it was clear that the latter of those was not going to be Chan’s strong suit.

You walked calmly towards where he sat on the ground, knowing he would only be more embarrassed by any attempts to rush to his aide. He was sitting up, so you could tell he wasn’t badly injured, but his right hand still stretched across his abdomen to clutch at his left side. He’d been hit there at least three times now, and if you had to guess, what was once a bad bruise was more likely a patch of broken skin at this point.

Voices floated around you as you pushed your way through the small crowd that had gathered around him, many asking the prince if he was alright or giving unsolicited advice on how to avoid the outcome he seemed to be cursed with. You picked up on the voice of a squire, one who served the boy who had knocked Chan down most recently, as he nudged the side of the older boy’s arm.

“You could have gone a little easier on him, you know. His mother just died.”

Great. Just what you needed; a physically and emotionally wounded Chan.

“Alright, give him some room everyone. His Highness is fine; go back to your own practicing.” You shooed away the stragglers and knelt so Chan could wrap his free arm around your neck, hoisting him up and slowly making your way to the infirmary tent. Leaning him against the side of a cot, you reached for the clean cloth and distilled vodka; this was going to hurt like a bitch, but Chan could take it.

“You’re pulling back too much and too early, it leaves your side vulnerable,” you said, carefully easing off his ripped tunic so you could tend to his wound.

He stayed silent for a few moments, fingers gripping harshly against your shoulder as you cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around his midsection.

“I…,” he trailed off, seeming to struggle to find the words he was looking for. “I’m a coward. I’m a failure and a coward and everyone knew it except me, until just now.”

His words knocked the wind out of you. You knew he was ashamed (entirely unnecessarily) when he couldn’t hold back the tears at his mother’s funeral while his father maintained his perfectly stoic expression (that heartless bastard), knew he was self-conscious about his fighting abilities, but you’d never heard him express that insecurity so directly before.

“Your Highness,” you spoke softly but forcefully, hands cupping his face to make him look you in the eye, “you are one of the bravest men I know. You have one of the hardest burdens a person can bear on your shoulders, have had it since you were born, and you carry it with grace and dignity and compassion. You inspire me and countless others every day with your strength and generosity. You are not a coward.”

He looked back at you, and suddenly you felt yourself being engulfed in his embrace, his legs parting to pull you close to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around your chest, his head pressing into the crook of your neck. Slowly you brought your hands up and began to rub small circles on his bare back. This was the most emotion he’d shown since that night you stood beside his mother’s bed, watching as he held her hand and whispered all the things he wanted to tell her one last time. You were a little overwhelmed, but mostly happy, happy that maybe he was feeling again. Eventually you heard his quiet voice next to your ear, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Then he released you from his hold, donned his shirt, and walked back to the jousting pitch. You watched him go, until a deliberate cough came from behind you, shattering your reverie.

“I suppose he’s lucky to have you.” The words spilled from the king’s mouth, his signature gravelly voice seeming to chase all other sound from the tent.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, I hadn’t noticed you were here,” you spoke, bending into a curtsey.

“It seems it is quite easy for the two of you not to notice others when you think you are alone.”

You blinked, unsure of where the king was going with his remarks. He sidled up to you, close enough you could hear him at a whisper.

“I may have owed your family a debt, but that has been repaid ten-fold. I know my son, know he would never be led astray of his responsibilities unless you gave credence to those thoughts in his head, fed his intimate physical desires. So do not delude yourself into thinking you can take him from me, little servant girl. And if he ever does come to me, asking me to set aside our laws, our traditions, so he can marry you, I’ll know what you have done, and you will never see the light of day again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied with your response, he left you there, his words staining your mind like the bloody cloth you clutched in your hands.

The Hunt | Kingdom of Gu, present day

How he managed to get his father to agree to this you had no idea. But Chan always was very convincing when he needed to be.

You were preparing for a day’s long hunt. In all honesty it was an excellent idea; it would give Chan space to be himself after having been shut inside the palace for two weeks, preparing for his impending nuptials. Normally this was one of your favorite activities to do with Chan and the knights; getting to ride, to spend time in the woods, maybe use your bow. But the one condition of the king’s agreement had been that Korenna was going too.

She’d been different with you, with everyone really, since that night on the balcony, avoiding attempts to make small talk and speaking harshly when she made requests. You didn’t want your relationship with her to turn sour, seeing as you’d soon be serving her for the rest of her life (and yours), so you held your tongue and pressed on with your duties.

Chan’s black courser and your chestnut palfrey were saddled, and you were in the midst of preparing a well-tempered white mare for the princess.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

You looked up, seeing the dark head of hair and upside down smirk belonging to Prince Minho smiling down at you as he leaned over your kneeling frame. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

You were not as close to Minho as you were to Felix, but you had always gotten along well, your similar sense of humor and affinity for archery solidifying your friendship.

He offered his hand to pull you up, which you accepted. “I’m glad you will be joining us on this outing, Y/n. I’m not sure I could handle Chan and Korenna on my own, even with 5 other knights to accompany me.”

You hummed in agreement, finishing attaching the bridle around the mare’s head. “I’m not sure you could either, Your Grace.”

Minho let out his signature high pitched laugh as the rest of your party approached, and the two of you maneuvered to the front of the pack as you set off towards the nearby woods. You all rode in silence for a while, riding not typically being an activity that required much talking, until you heard Korenna speak from her position next to Chan in the middle of your group.

“So, who is the best at the strength tasks of the Four Kingdom Competition?”

A strange question to ask so out of the blue, but you supposed it was somewhat relevant to the situation at hand.

“His Highness is an excellent swordsman,” you replied, looking back slightly in their direction.

“Sir Jeongin has given us all a run for our money in the wrestling ring,” you heard a voice from the back say. He must be one of the other knights in your party.

Chan replied next, “Minho is a skilled horseman, beats me in the joust nearly every time.”

Minho’s eyebrows rose up at that, smirking as he rounded out the answers, “And Y/n here is an expert marksman. She’s the best I’ve ever seen with a bow.”

You thanked him mentally, hoping he could read it in the look on your face. You weren’t about to boast about your own talents to the princess, but it was nice to know that she was now aware you weren’t just some lovesick girl who followed the prince around, that you actually took your responsibilities seriously.

“Really? And who taught you about archery, Y/n?” You thought you heard a touch of menace in her normally high pitched voice, but brushed it off.

“I’ve had many teachers, Your Grace, but the first was my father.”

“How very… non-traditional. Where is your father now? I’d love to meet him.”

You saw Chan and Minho tense in their saddles, well aware of what your answer would be.

“He died, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” said Korenna, her voice noticeably softer now, “I apologize for bringing up a sore subject.”

“It’s alright, Your Grace,” you replied. “It was a long time ago. You couldn’t have known.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group then, but luckily your first planned stop was not far ahead. A small grove of trees surrounding a clearing was where you usually began the hunt, splitting off in different directions and meeting back there before sundown. But because you had the princess with you today, it was a more laid back affair, and you’d planned to have a picnic of sorts before you continued in earnest.

Everyone set about unpacking the sacks that carried your meal for the day. You uncorked your canteen, taking a sip before heaving an exasperated sigh.

You’d forgotten to bring extra water for the horses.

You called over to Chan, where he stood spreading out a blanket for Korenna to sit on.

“Your Highness, I’m going to the creek to get water for the horses.”

Chan looked up and you could see the smile on his face from where you stood across the grove. “I’ll go with you!” he said happily, only to have his arm tugged back by the princess next to him.

“You are not a servant, Chan. I’m sure Y/n can go by herself.”

Your loud conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group, who were all looking over at you in interest. You were surprised by her bluntness, but she did have a point. “Her Grace is right, I don’t need you to accompany me, Your Highness. I simply wanted to tell you where I was going.”

Chan gave a side glare at Korenna, but agreed. “Fine, but you shouldn’t go alone. Sir Jeongin - “

A tall boy, clad in the red, black, and gold uniform of your knights, walked over to the prince. He was no more than eighteen, must have only just taken his oath. You remembered his name from the earlier conversation about the strength tests, impressed he was making a name for himself so early.

“ - please accompany Y/n to the stream to fetch water for the horses.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

So the two of you set off, leaving the rest to their meals. You didn’t really need a knight for protection, but your heart warmed at the gesture of Chan not wanting you to go alone. You arrived at the bank of the creek and began filling some extra pouches you had brought with water.

“It’s so much quieter here,” Jeongin commented absentmindedly.

Despite the sound of the water running, you agreed it did seem calmer here than in the grove you came from. As you knelt by the edge of the stream, you noticed large patches of grass surrounding some nearby trees had been pressed down. Curious, you walked over to the area, observing the singed ground and muddy boot prints on the rocks, telltale signs of human presence. You hadn’t run into anyone else on your walk over, but maybe there were some others out riding today. Raising your head, you called to your companion, “Sir Jeongin! Were there any other hunting parties out today?”

“Not that I know of, Miss,” Jeongin replied, his expression revealing he was rather confused by your question.

You looked around again, and that was when you noticed the torn piece of blue fabric latched to a jagged branch on a nearby tree. Your blood ran cold and you grabbed Jeongin’s arm, breaking into a run.

“We need to get back to them. Now.”

You’d made it about half way back to the grove when you heard a scream, you and Jeongin sprinting to reach the clearing. But when you arrived, the scene was entirely not what you expected.

Your mind had immediately gone to the Lajorans when you spotted that piece of cloth on the tree. But here you stood, watching men clad in your own colors raise their swords to clash with the group of knights who’d accompanied you and the royals. Your eyes frantically searched among the chaos, looking for Chan, but before you could spot him you noticed Korenna, hiding alone behind a large rock at the edge of the treeline. You pulled Jeongin back behind a tree, gesturing in her direction.

“Do you see the princess over there? You’re going to grab her, get on a horse, and ride back to the palace now.”

Jeongin was looking at you with wide, scared eyes; his mouth was open, not making a sound.

You shook his shoulder. “Sir Jeongin, do you understand me? Do not look back at us, just take the princess and get her to safety. I need you to do this.”

Your words seemed to finally reach him, and he set his mouth in a straight line. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good. Go. And don’t look back.”

He left your spot behind the tree and you turned back to the action in the grove, still trying to find the prince. Finally your eyes landed on two men standing back to back, swords flying as they blocked the attack of about 6 different men.

Chan and Minho.

You started towards them, reaching for your own sword, when you spotted someone perched in a tree right outside the circle of men. The attackers started to pull back from around the two princes, and you could see exactly who the archer had in his line of sight.

You screamed his name, sprinting to cross the clearing and threw your body in front of him, arms outstretched.

You felt a sharp pain in your left shoulder as you fell against Chan’s chest, his arms coming up to catch you.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

Trumpets were blaring from the direction of the castle as Minho dragged Chan back, still desperately clutching you in his arms. The attackers were dispersing and you heard the sound of a voice saying “Chris”; it took a moment for you to realize it was your own.

“I’m here, Y/n, I’m here. Just hold on please. You’re going to be okay, just please hold on.”

The last thing you saw were his eyes as your vision went black.

Of Flower Buds and Roots | Kingdom of Gu, 16 years ago

“Mother, when will they be here?”

You were standing in the open-air courtyard at the front of the palace, your mother’s hands on your shoulders. The two of you had moved to the palace a few years ago, when your mother had gotten a job as a servant there after the war ended. Today, you were told, would be the day you were to start your position there, as personal attendant to the young crown prince.

“I’m sure soon darling. Remember we never rush royalty.”

As you waited, your eye was caught by a small boy standing with a large scary looking man. He looked to be about your age and was holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. The man seemed to be trying to take them away, but the boy clutched them to his chest. A woman who you thought you’d seen before approached them, glaring at the man, who backed away from the boy as she took his hand. Then, they started walking towards you.

Your mother tightened her grip on your shoulders, bending into a curtsey and pushing you down with her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“The pleasure is ours,” came the queen’s pleasant voice. She knelt down between you and the boy.

“You must be Y/n. This is my son Christopher, the prince. You will serve as his attendant.”

You stared at the boy, his eyes even with yours, hair mussed and shirt covered in dirt.

“He doesn’t look like a prince. He looks like me”

“Y/n!” your mother gasped, the queen chuckling slightly and calming your mother with a hand on her arm.

“You’re right, he might not look like one yet. But it’s going to be your job to help him become one. Do you think you can do that?”

You pondered her question and finally said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and stepped aside, placing her hands on Chan’s back and pushing him forward.

“Hi Y/n!” the boy said excitedly. “My name’s Chris. Or Chan. Either’s fine! I brought you these flowers! I thought they might look pretty in your hair.”

He extended his tiny fist holding the flowers and you took one from the bunch, pulling back your hair and putting the flower behind your ear.

Chan’s face immediately lit up in the brightest smile you’d ever seen, his eyes crinkling cutely. “I was right!”

From that moment on, you decided there was nothing you wouldn’t do to see that smile on his face.

{part 3}

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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The Bad Batch: A Crosshair Analysis

Hello, Star Wars fandom! I have just completed watching—and loving—The Bad Batch, which you know means I now need to dump all my thoughts about the first season into the tumblr void. Specifically, thoughts on the complicated drama that is Crosshair. I have no doubt that the majority of what I’m about to say will be old news to anyone who watched the show when it came out (I’m slow...), but I’m writing it all out anyway. Largely for my own sanity enjoyment :D

I want to preface all of this by saying that the above is not an exaggeration. I love the show and I love the entire cast. My enjoyment in each of the characters is directly connected to my enjoyment of the season as a whole, which I say because I’m about to get pretty critical towards some of the characters’ choices and, to a lesser extent, the writing choices that surround those. Does this mean I secretly hate The Bad Batch? Quite the opposite. I’m invested, which is presumably just what Filoni wants. I’m just hoping that investment pays off.

But enough of the disclaimers. Let’s start with the matter of the inhibitor chip. I’ve seen fans take some pretty hard stances on both sides: Crosshair is completely innocent because he’s definitely been under the chip’s control this whole time, no matter what he might say. Crosshair is completely guilty because he said the chip was removed a long time ago and he chose to do all this, no moral wiggle room allowed. However, the reality is that we don’t know enough to make a clear call either way. The audience, simply put, does not have all the necessary information. What we have instead is a couple of facts combined with claims that may or may not be reliable. Let’s lay them out:

Crosshair was definitely under the chip’s control at the start of the series.

He was able to resist it to a certain extent, resulting in a pressure to obey orders coupled with a primary loyalty to his squad. See: telling Hunter to follow the Empire’s commands—which includes killing kid Padawans—but not turning his team in as traitors when they did not. It’s an in-between space.

Crosshair’s chip was then amplified to an unknown extent. I’m never going to claim I’m a Star Wars aficionado—I’m a casual fan, friends. Please don’t yell at me over obscure lore lol—but within TBB’s canon, no one else is undergoing that experimentation. The effects of this are entirely unknown, which includes Crosshair’s free will, or lack thereof.

Crosshair then becomes a clear tool of the Empire, hunting down innocents, killing on a whim, the whole, evil shebang.

In “Reunion” he’s caught by the engine and suffers severe burns to his face. One leaves a scar that covers precisely the place where the chip would have been extracted.

Removing the chip leaves its own scar behind. If Crosshair’s was removed, we can’t see that scar due to the burn.

After these events Crosshair seems to mellow a bit. He does horrible things under the Empire’s orders—like shooting the senator—but is still loyal to his squad—killing his non-clone teammates to give TBB a chance, saving AZ and Omega, etc.

Crosshair claims that his chip has already been removed. However, Crosshair is arguably an unreliable source if he’s been lied to or if the chip is still there, encouraging him to manipulate the team.

Crosshair claims it was removed a long time ago, which is incredibly imprecise. As we can see from just some of the events listed above, precisely when the chip came out—if it came out—makes a huge difference.

Hunter realizes this and presses for clarification, but Crosshair dodges giving it. Again, a legitimate belief that it doesn’t matter, or evidence that he can’t say because something else is going on? We don’t know.

Hunter checks Crosshair’s head and finds the burn scar which proves… nothing. As stated above, they wouldn’t be able to see the surgery scar one way or another: its existence or its absence. It’s useless data, as Tech might say. I’ve seen a few fans claim that Hunter was also feeling for the chip with his enhanced senses, but 1. I didn’t catch any evidence of that in the scene and 2. Even if we assume Hunter did that anyway, the chips are notoriously hard to spot. Fives and AZ couldn’t find the chip at first when examining Tup. Ahsoka had to use the force to find it in Rex. TBB themselves couldn’t find it at first in Wrecker. If machinery consistently fails to find the chip on the first couple of tries—it’s meant to be a hidden implant, after all—why would we believe Hunter’s senses could pick it up instantly? Maybe he missed it, or maybe it wasn’t there at all.

Crosshair appears to be struggling with a headache in the finale, just as he was at the beginning of the season and just like Wrecker was for the first half.

The point of listing all this out is to emphasize how ambiguous this whole situation is. I don’t want to use this post to argue one way or another about whether Crosshair’s chip is really out. I have my preferred theory (the chip’s still in, but only partially functional), but at the end of the day none of this is conclusive. The writing takes us in what I hope is deliberate circles. Crosshair says the chip is out? Crosshair is not a reliable source of information until we know if the chip is out. What other evidence is there that the chip is gone? A scar? We can’t see if there’s a scar. Hunter’s abilities? He only checked once for a canonically hard to find implant—if he actually checked at all. And why would the Empire want the chip out? Well, maybe it has to do with that push towards willing soldiers, but if that were the case, why leave Crosshair behind and have the “clones die together”? By that point he was one of the most willing, chip or not. Did they have to take it out because of the engine accident? Pure speculation. We just don’t know and THAT is the point I want to make.

Because it means the rest of the Bad Batch didn’t know either.

The core issue I have here is not whether the chip is in or out, or even how long it may have been in if it is out now. The issue is that TBB spent 99% of the first season believing that Crosshair was under the chip’s influence… and they didn’t try to do anything about that. They abandoned him. They left a man behind. Does this make them all horrible monsters? Of course not! This shit is complicated as hell, but I do think they made a very large mistake and that Crosshair has every right to be furious about it.

“But, Clyde, they couldn’t have gone back. It was too dangerous! Hunter had a duty to his whole team, not just Crosshair.” True enough and I’d buy this argument 100% if Hunter hadn’t spent the entire season throwing his team into dangerous, seemingly impossible situations to save other people. Crosshair became the exception, not a hard rule of something they had to avoid. They went back to Kamino for Omega, a kid they’d only had one lunch with, despite knowing how dangerous the Empire was. They went into the heart of an occupied planet to rescue not just a stranger, but one belonging to the Separatist government. They helped Sid when she asked and there was plenty of compassion for the criminal trying to take her place. Most significantly, there wasn’t the slightest hesitation to go rescue Hunter when he was under the Empire’s control, in precisely the same place. Every explanation I’ve seen fans come up with—Kamino is too fortified, they don’t know where Crosshair is, they can’t risk Omega being captured, etc.—also holds true for Hunter, yet there wasn’t a second of doubt about needing to at least try to help him. And his rescue was arguably far more dangerous given that TBB knew they were walking into a trap. Going after Crosshair would have at least had some element of surprise.

I think the problem with these justifications is most easily seen in “Rescue on Ryloth” and, later, “War-Mantle.” In the former, we do watch Hunter decide that going on a rescue mission is too much of a risk, only for Omega to talk him into considering it.

Hunter: “It’s a big galaxy. We can’t put ourselves on the line every time someone’s in trouble.”

Omega: “Why not? Isn’t that what soldiers do?”

Hunter: “It’s not worth the risk.”

Omega: “She’s trying to save her family, Hunter. I’d do the same for you.”

The arguments that sway him are ‘Soldiers should help people’ and ‘Soldiers should specifically help their family.’ So… what does that say about their feelings for Crosshair? They’re willing to put themselves on the line for the parents of a girl they met once at a drop site, but not their own brother? That’s the message the writing sends. “But, Clyde, the difference is that they had an advantage here. Hera’s knowledge of her home planet tipped the odds in their favor.” Yeah… and Crosshair is stationed on TBB’s home planet. Even more than them collectively having the same knowledge that Hera does, “Return to Kamino” reveals that Omega always had additional, insider knowledge of the base: she has access to a secret landing pad and the tunnels leading up into the city. That knowledge was given and used the second Hunter’s freedom was on the line, but it never once came up to use for Crosshair’s benefit.

“War-Mantle’s” mission puts this problem in even sharper relief. Another claim I’ve seen a lot is that TBB only took risky rescue missions because they needed to be paid. The guys have got to eat after all. Yet Tech makes it clear that going after Gregor will lose them money. They’re meant to be on a mission for Sid and deviating for that won’t result in a payment. He explicitly says that if they decide to do this, they won’t eat. They do it anyway. No money, no intel, a huge risk “on a clone we don’t even know.” But that’s not what’s important, the show says. All that matters is that a brother is in trouble. This time it’s Echo pushing that message instead of Omega. When Hunter realizes that they’re about to try and infiltrate an entire facility and they don’t even know if this clone is still alive, Echo points out that they took that risk once before: for him. “If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try and get him out.”

Yes! Exactly right! So why doesn’t that apply to Crosshair?

“Because he tried to kill them, Clyde!” No, that’s the easy, dismissive answer. A chipped Crosshair tried to kill them. AKA, a Crosshair entirely under the Empire’s control. The only difference between his enslavement and Gregor’s is that Gregor’s chains were physical while Crosshair’s were mental. And again, the point of everything at the start of this post is to show that no one knows when or even if that chip was removed. TBB definitely didn’t have any reason to suspect that Crosshair was working under his own power until Crosshair himself said as much. We might have been able to make that case at the start of the season, but “Battle Scars” removes any possible confusion. The entire team watched Rex reach for his blaster when he learned their chips were still in. The entire team watched Wrecker become a totally different person and attack them, just like Crosshair did. The entire team forgave him instantly and had their own chips removed. So why in the world didn’t anyone go, “Wow, Crosshair has a chip too. He was no more responsible for attacking us than Wrecker was. We need to try to get him out, no matter how hard that might be, just like we had to try for all these other people we’ve helped.”

But they didn’t. No one even considered rescuing Crosshair. They only went back for Hunter and, when they realized Crosshair was there too, they didn’t change their plans to try and rescue him as well. He’s treated as a particularly threatening inconvenience, not another team member in need of their help.

The problem I have with how this all went down is that the team treated Crosshair like an enemy despite all evidence to the contrary. Despite Omega outright saying that this isn’t his fault, it’s the chip, the group seems to decide that he’s gone crazy or something and that there’s nothing they can do. “It’s fine,” I thought. “They don’t really get what the chip is like yet. They don’t understand how thoroughly it controls someone.” But then “Battle Scars” arrives and Wrecker is treated with such compassion (which he deserves!) only for the group to continue acting like Crosshair is somehow different. It’s easy to say, “But Crosshair shot Wrecker” and ignore the easy pushback of, “and Wrecker nearly shot Omega.” Up until Crosshair’s own accusations and Omega’s ignored comments, TBB’s understanding of the chip’s influence and the lack of responsibility that accompanies mysteriously disappears when the show’s antagonist becomes the subject of conversation. This is seen most clearly in how Hunter tries to frame things during his talk with Crosshair:

“You tried to kill us. We didn’t have a choice.”

“Can’t you see that they’re using you? It’s that inhibitor chip in your head.”

“You really don’t get who we are, do you?”

Hunter mentions the chip, but he acts as if it’s Crosshair’s responsibility to overcome it: “Can’t you see…” Of course he can’t see, that’s the entire point of the chip, the thing he currently believes Crosshair still has stuck in his head. But Hunter and the others—with Omega as a wonderful exception—never seem to have accepted this like they did for Wrecker. When Crosshair “tried to kill us” it’s seen as a deliberate act that he chose, not something forced on him like with Wrecker. When Hunter talks about their ethics, he subconsciously separates the team from Crosshair: “You really don’t get who we are, do you?”, revealing a pretty ingrained divide between them. Even Wrecker gets in on the action, the one brother who truly understands how much the chip controls someone: “All that time, you didn’t even try to come back.” What part of he couldn’t try is not hitting home here? Again, for the purposes of this conversation it doesn’t matter whether Crosshair was chipped this whole time or not. The point is that TBB believed he was chipped… and yet still expected him to somehow, magically overcome that programming, writing him off when he failed to do that. He’s consistently held responsible for actions that they were told (and, through Wrecker, saw) were completely outside of his control. Even when we factor in his claim that the chip was removed, TBB has ignored all the evidence I listed at the start. No one, not even Omega, challenges this super vague and strange claim, or seeks out proof because they don’t want to believe that their brother could willingly do this. There’s just this... acceptance that of course Crosshair went bad. Why? Because he was an asshole sometimes? Taking it all as written, it doesn’t feel like the batch considered him a true part of the team. Certainly not like Wrecker or Hunter. As shown, the batch will go out of their way, risk anything, forgive anything, for them. They have a level of faith that was never shown to Crosshair.

“Severe and unyielding,” Tech says and he’s absolutely right, but I’d seriously challenge this idea that any of the others would have automatically done better if the situations were reversed. It stood out to me that each batch member has a moment of doubt throughout the series, a brief glimpse into how they think the Empire isn’t that bad, at least when it comes to this particular thing. Basically, a moment that could lead to a very dangerous line of thinking without others to stomp it down. Wrecker announces that he’s happy working for whoever, provided they give him food and let him blow things up. Tech finds the chain codes to be an ingenious strategy and is clearly fascinated with their development. Hunter initially wants Omega to stay on Kamino, despite knowing that this Empire has already, systematically killed an entire group of people: the Jedi. Doesn’t matter. She’s still (supposedly) safer there than she would be running with the likes of them.

There’s absolutely no doubt that those three made the correct choice in defying the Empire, but I believe that their ability to make that choice is largely dependent on them having each other. They survive together, not apart, and it’s their unity that allows them to make the really hard calls, like setting out on their own and opposing such a formidable force. But if Tech’s chip had activated and he’d been left behind, would he have muscled through to escape somehow...or would he have gotten caught up in all the new technology the Empire offered him, succumbing to both his chip and the inevitability that if his squad no longer wanted him, why not stay? Would Wrecker have escaped, or been easily manipulated into a new life of exploding things? Would Hunter have been able to push through without his brothers, or would he have become devoted to a new team to lead? Obviously there’s no way to ever know, but it’s always easier to make the right decisions when you have support in doing so. Crosshair had no support. His team left him and yes, they had to in that specific moment, but the point is that they never came back. As far as we saw throughout the season, they never planned to come back. They all talk about loving the Crosshair who existed when life was easier, but they weren’t willing to fight for the Crosshair that most needed their help. When he says “You weren’t loyal to me,” he’s absolutely right. The same episode, “Return to Kamino,” gives Omega two powerful lines that the group rallies behind:

Omega: “[The danger] doesn’t matter. Saving Hunter is what matters.”

AZ: “You must leave.”

Omega: “Not without Hunter.”

The key word there is “Hunter.” Danger, stakes, risk, probability… none of that matters when Hunter needs help. Crosshair did not receive that same level of devotion.

Which creates a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. The group is upset that Crosshair isn’t rejoining them, but they fail to realize that he has no reason to trust them anymore. He’s not joining the Empire because he’s inherently evil and that’s that, end of discussion. He’s joining it because above all Crosshair wants a place to belong… and TBB has made it clear—unintentionally—that he does not belong with them. The horrible actions that Crosshair took under his own free will (theoretically) came after he realized that doing bad things while under the Empire’s control was, apparently, unforgivable. If it wasn’t, his team would have come back to rescue him. They could have at least tried. But they didn’t, so Crosshair is left with the conclusion that either what he did under the Empire’s control is something the group can’t forgive him for, or they can forgive that (like with Wrecker) and he’s the problem here. He’s the one not worth that effort.

“The Empire will be fazing out clones next,” Hunter says. To which Crosshair responds, “Not the ones that matter.”

He wants to matter to someone and events show he no longer matters to his brothers. So why not stay with the Empire? I mean, we as the audience ABSOLUTELY know why not. Self-doubt and feelings of isolation aren’t excuses for joining the Super Evil Organization. Crosshair, if he is under his own control, is still 100% in the wrong for supporting them, no matter his reasons. So it’s not an excuse, but rather an explanation of that very human, flawed, fallible thinking. He needs to be useful. He needs to be wanted. Crosshair is an absolute dick to the regs and I have no doubt that a lot of that stems from the harassment TBB has experienced from them (with a side of his inflated ego), but I’d bet it’s also due to Crosshair’s intense desire to be valuable to someone. He keeps pointing out the regs’ supposed deficiencies because it highlights his own usefulness. When Crosshair fails to find Hera, the Admiral says that soon he’ll get someone who can, looking straight at Howzer at the door. It makes Crosshair seethe because his entire identity is based on being useful, yet no one seems to need him anymore. TBB seems to no longer want him. The Empire no longer wants clones. Now even regs are considered a better option than him, the “superior” soldier. Everywhere Crosshair turns he’s getting the message that he’s not wanted, but he’ll keep fighting to at least be needed in some capacity, no matter how small. Even if that means overlooking all the horrors the Empire commits.

“All you’ll ever be to [the Empire] is a number,” Hunter says and he’s absolutely right. But to TBB recently, Crosshair hasn’t even been that. He’s been nothing. Nobody worth coming back for. To his mind, at least being a number is something.

I hope that all of this resolves itself into a conclusion that is kind to each side (preferably without a Vader-style death redemption), especially given the still ambiguous state of the chip, but from a writing standpoint I’m admittedly a bit wary. We’re obviously meant to believe that the batch all love each other, but as established throughout this entirely too long post, this season did a terrible job imo of proving that they love Crosshair. Or, at least, proving that they love him as much as the others. If this was really meant to be just a matter of miscommunication, with Crosshair making terrible life choices because he only thinks he was abandoned, then we as the audience would have seen the batch trying and failing to get him out. Or at least establishing a very good reason why they couldn’t take that risk, hopefully with entirely different side-missions so the audience isn’t constantly going, “So you can risk everything for Gregor...��but not Crosshair?” I’m VERY glad that Crosshair was allowed to air his grievances to the extent he did, but the end result of that—Hunter continually denying this, Omega walking away from him in their rooms, neither Tech nor Wrecker actually sticking up for him and acknowledging the chip’s influence during at least some of all this—is making things feel rather one-sided. It’s like we’re meant to take Crosshair at his word and accept that he’s this garden-variety antagonist who joins the Empire because yay being on the winning side… despite all these complications that clearly have a huge impact on how we read the situation. It doesn’t help that the show has already embraced an inconsistent manner of portraying chipped-clones. We know every clone has one, we know only a couple clones are aware of the chip’s existence (and can thus try to get it out), we know they enter a “Good soldiers follow orders” mindlessness once activated… yet towards the end we see a lot of side character clones thinking for themselves. Howzer decides that he’s no longer loyal to the Empire, giving a speech where a couple other clones throw down their weapons too. Gregor was arrested because he likewise realized how wrong this all was. But how is that possible? Do the chips completely control the clones, or not? Are these clones somehow exceptions? Are the chips beginning to fail? All of that has a bearing on how we read Crosshair—what were his own decisions, how much he was capable of overcoming the chip, whether that changed at all during certain points—but right now that remains really unclear.

It’s details like that which make me wonder if all these other questions will be answered. Will the story resolve all those ambiguous moments surrounding the chip, or brush them off with the belief that we should have just taken Crosshair at his equally ambiguous word? Will the story acknowledge Crosshair’s points through someone other than Crosshair, allowing it to exist as a legitimate criticism, rather than the presumed excuses of an antagonist? I’m… not sure. On the whole I’m very happy with TBB’s writing—despite what all this might imply lol. Until my brain picks over the season and discovers something else, my only other gripe is not allowing Omega to form a solid bond with Tech and Echo, instead putting all the focus on big brother!Wrecker and dad!Hunter. I think it’s a solid show that does a lot right, but I’m worried that, unless there’s a brilliant answer to all these questions and an intent to unpack both sides of the Hunter vs. Crosshair debate with respect—not just falling back on, “Well, Crosshair is with the Empire so everything he says is automatically bad and wrong” take—we’ve just gotten the setup for a somewhat messy, ethical story. For anyone here who also reads my RWBY metas, I’m pretty sure you’re not at all surprised that I’m invested in going, “Hey, you had one of the heroes suddenly become/join a dictatorship and do a lot of horrific things, but within a pretty complicated context. Can we please work through that carefully and with an acknowledgement of the nuance here, rather than throwing the ‘evil’ character to the proverbial wolves?”

God knows TBB is leagues ahead of RWBY, but I hope things continue on in not just a good direction, but one that tackles the aspects of this situation that many fans—and Crosshair—have already pointed out. As much as I adore the cast—and I really, really do—it was discomforting to watch a found family show where 4/5th of that family so completely wrote off one of the members and crucially have, at least so far, refused to acknowledge that. I want complicated, flawed characters, but that’s only compelling when the storytelling admits to and grapples with those flaws. We have quite firmly established Crosshair’s flaws in Season One. I hope Season Two delves into the rest of the team’s too.

Aaaand with that meta-dump out of my system, I’m off to write TBB fic. Thanks for reading! :D

#The Bad Batch #TBB #Crosshair #Star Wars #SW #mymetas #do I take my life in my hands #by posting SW meta?#probably lol

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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* “Everyone in school thought you were dead.”

* Jessica says bluntly as you walk down the pink streamer filled hallway

* you offer her a fake yawn and a smile.

* “My dad came by for a surprise visit.” She looks confused before her expression smooths

* “Oh your real dad, not Carlisle”

* Carlisle contacted his counterpart, Eleazer to tell him you were running away with a man 300 years your senior

* So of course Eleazer came running -after he probably had a spat with Carmen about who would handle this situation better- to Forks on the first flight he found

* Only to burst through the door to see you and Emmett playing kingdom hearts in the living room

* “Oh, I see the rumors have been vastly exaggerated.”

* Cue -figuratively- sweating Carlisle who takes a sip from his mug

* Since he was already here you figured you would take a few days off from school and show him around

* “Is there anything in particular you might want to see?”

* Edward and Carlisle are looking pretty smug thinking that they’ve already shown you everything of note in the area.

* “I’ve always wanted to see the space needle in Seattle.”

* They both falter when they hear that. All the things they’ve shown you are things humans wouldn’t be able to see, hidden meadows, waterfalls, underwater caverns

* They never thought to show you human landmarks. Eleazer nods a growing smile on his face

* “Seattle has a lot of museums that I’ve wanted to visit as well”

* Carlisle let’s out a sigh of relief, none of his kids would be caught dead at a museum outside of a field trip

* To their dismay and Eleazer’s delight your eyes sparkle

* “Can we go to the pop culture museum and the arboretum too?”

* You don’t even pack, Eleazer tells you you can just buy whatever you need when you get there. You do take a duffel bag full of blood bags though

* And then you’re gone, you leave care instructions for your animals with Edward and you and Eleazer drive off towards Seattle in the rented Mercedes he got at the airport

* “Is it just me... or do they look happier with Eleazer than they are with us.” Edward’s only talking to himself, but Carlisle hears and the oncoming doting parent verbal and mental sputter makes him regret saying anything at all

* “it’s okay Carlisle, I’m sure they’re happy here with us too.”

* You guys stay at a pretty upscale hotel downtown, in the penthouse

* “Are you here on a trip with your boyfriend?” The receptionist asks, and Eleazar straight up starts laughing

* “This is my dad.” You say with a straight face and you can tell the receptionist wants to die

* “I-I’m so sorry, we usually get couples this time of year.” Right, it’s almost Valentine’s Day. Makes sense.

* Still there’s something super gross about people thinking you’re romantically linked to Eleazer

* The penthouse is very nice. There’s an infinity pool on your balcony, and three different bedrooms.

* The trip is really fun, you have a -pretend- meal at the revolving restraint at the needle, and spend the rest of the week museum hopping

* “She feels so familiar....” you mumble to yourself as you gaze at a portrait of a woman with long dark hair

* “That’s Carmen” Eleazer tells you

* “What?!?”

* “She was popular with artists even before she turned, it’s always been a hobby of hers to model” You’re just glad it’s not a nude portrait

* You take super cheesy pictures at the natural history museum, and even better pics at the pop culture museum

* On one of your last nights in the city Eleazer took you to a laundromat

* “I know we’ve been running out of clothes, but I’m sure the hotel has a laundry service”

* Eleazer just grins, talking to the attendant, who takes him to a hidden door.

* Well this isn’t sketchy at all

* Eleazer takes your hand in his as he leads you down a long narrow hallway. When you teach the end there’s a pretty nice bar and what appears to be a jazz club

* “It’s a speakeasy, I thought it might be a little fun for our last day”

* Being beautiful has its perks because the waiter doesn’t even card you, just brings you your dink

* “So...Garrett huh?” You groan, and Eleazer smiles

* You knew this was coming

* “Don’t worry, I’m not like Carlisle, if you like someone I like them too.”

* Well at least he isn’t acting like a total freak about the whole thing

* “I am surprised someone like Garrett is more your flavor though” you raise an eyebrow.

* “In comparison to who?” Eleazer gives you a funny look

* “Edward of course”

* You almost spit out your drink

* “Oh, is this one of those situations where the three of you are a couple together?”

* You start coughing and the waiter brings you a glass of water

* “We’re not together!”

* “Well of course you and Garrett aren’t together yet-“

* “Edward and I aren’t dating.”

* Eleazer just looks at you like you told him you’re pregnant

* “That can’t be right” he mumbles and you sigh

* “Why would you think we were dating?” The jazz singer belts out a high note and Eleazer patiently waits for her to be done so he can talk again

* “Well you went with them to Forks, and when you came to visit last year with him we all just figured it had happened naturally”

* Besides, Eleazer see’s the way he looks at you.

* Like you’re the epitome of your gender, like there’s never been anyone like you and there never will be again

* “We all? The entire coven thinks that?” Your fingers thread through your hair.

* What does Tanya think about that? She must be feeling pretty smug what with that talk she gave you all those years ago about how you would eventually date Edward

* Edward probably knows and just doesn’t even care, the criminal probably thinks it’s funny

* Eleazar watches you have a breakdown, taking a small sip of his brandy. It looks like you haven’t realized the way you look at Edward yet

* You look at him like you don’t have a single doubt. You trust him unconditionally, you know exactly who he is and where he will be.

* You look at him like he’s home

* “This is so embarrassing” you mumble and Eleazer smiles

* He guesses it’s not time yet for you to realize your feelings. Maybe it’s for the best, he’s not as bad as Carlisle, but the thought of giving you away at your wedding makes his heart ache.

* “The best cure for embarrassment is alcohol, drink up.” He grins when you clink your glass against his before gulping down the contents of your drink.

* Who knows, maybe in a few years someone completely different will show up and sweep you off your feet.

* You do talk about something really important with Eleazer though

* “Eleazer when do you think Aro will send for me?”

* Eleazer stops mid motion, his glass halted halfway between the table and his mouth

* “If I’m being honest, I don’t think he will for many years” Eleazer has an awkward expression on his face. “I think he’s afraid of you”

* You sputter

* The great and powerful Aro?! Alive for 1000’s of years. AFRAID OF YOU?!?

* “Oh don’t look at me like that, try and think about it from his perspective.”

* Your power is on par with Janes, but unlike her over the decade you’ve been a vampire your power has only gotten stronger. Your body’s natural despair and your desire to be human feed off of each other, compounding on each other to make your power that much more potent

* The only difference is that now you’ve learned to hide it, keeping your emotions in check so others aren’t hurt

* There isn’t a person alive that stands a chance against you at your full potential. You’re the strongest known vampire

* “Chelsea can’t bind you to coven with her loyalty like she does the others,” Eleazer takes a sip of his drink. “his only choice is to let you come back on your own volition, otherwise he risks a war.”

* A war he wouldn’t win, on your own it was dicey, all of them against just you could go either way

* But you weren’t alone anymore, now you have Tanya, Kate, Irina, Carmen, Eleazer

* And Edward. You know without a second thought Edward would follow you into hell if you asked.

* “Saving any discovery of remarkable talent”

* A discovery like Bella

* You’re not 100% certain, but you’re pretty sure your powers don’t work on Bella, the same way Edward, Jane and Alec’s powers won’t work on her

* And if she can really spread her shield to others-

* You’re f*cked

* “but the chances of that are slim to none.” Eleazer reassures you

* You give him a reassuring smile

* “Salud” you raise you glass and he smiles

* “Salud” he grins as your glass clinks

* You weren’t expecting the week to go by so fast, or to be having as much fun as you did.

* You were pretty sad when the end of the week rolled around and Eleazer dropped you off home

* “He’ll be back before you know it” Edward says, his arm over your shoulders, giving your arm a comforting squeeze

* “Yeah I know, it still feels bad though”

* Edward doesn’t say anything, he just holds you a little closer

* You’re thankful to the Cullen’s for taking you in and giving you an opportunity you might not have had otherwise

* But they’re not your coven, they’re not really your family

* And so now you’re here, walking in a bright pink and red construction paper covered hallway next to Jessica who’s talking about Valentine’s Day

* Ah right, today’s Valentine’s Day

* “Do you think maybe...Mike bought me a carnation?” She asks twirling a strand of hair around her finger

* “I’m sure he did”

* You’re actually sure he bought one for Bella, but you’re hoping the courtesy extends to the whole friend group

* You bought all your friends valentines, and that includes the Cullen’s and everyone on the cheer team

* The money wasn’t the worst part, they were only a dollar each, the worst part was having to write notes for all of them, it wouldn’t have been so bad if the girl at the table wasn’t giving you a dirty look as you pretended to struggle through writing 30 cards

* “How much do you want to bet Bella gets the most flowers out of all of us?”

* You would bet the entire contents of your bank account, but you’re pretty sure Jess can’t match your bet

* “Well, she’s something new to look at, and boys are dumb”

* Jessica blows a strand of hair out of her face. You know she’s probably a bit bitter since she’s started to notice Mike is interested in Bella and not her

* But you kind of get it

* Bella’s cute, but she’s no Cindy Crawford. And to add...she’s really shy, not exactly someone with a charismatic personality.

* The attention she’s garnered will fade in due time, Edward had told you as much

* “It’s the same thing as when we moved to town, most of these kids have gone to school together since childhood, so when someone new gets here it’s all they can think about. They don’t really like her, they just like the idea of her. The illusion of a choice”

* It made you a little sad to be honest, even worse was that Bella didn’t seem to enjoy the attention. She seemed uncomfortable every time a boy flirted with her

* “I almost feel bad for her, I get the feeling she’s not really into any of these guys that are chasing her” Jessica says, so you’re not the only one that’s noticed

* You’re a little surprised that when the student comes by with carnations you get two entire bouquets worth

* And then they come back the next period and give you another bouquet

* “Oooo someone’s popular!” Angela teases and you shrug. Most of these are from Alice and Rosalie, they each bought you three each

* You got a whopping 12 from Conner which feels a bit surprising

* You knew he was going after it, but you didn’t think he would bother to actually put any effort into his attraction outside of flirting with you

* You’ve got one from everyone in your friend group, a handful from others on the cheer team, Emmett and Jasper both bought you one

* The only person who didn’t get you one was Edward

* You wonder if he got Bella one? The thought seems unlikely since they were basically at each others throat the last time they were together

* So imagine your surprise when you walk into the hall to see Bella and Edward talking

* You’re gone for a week and it’s like they’re suddenly insta-friends

* In fact, Bella’s actually blushing, a carnation twirling between her fingers

* A light red carnation

* So he did buy carnations after all, just not for you

* And Edward...his eyes are sparkling as he looks down at her. A lopsided grin curling onto his face

* Oh, there’s that smile

* He says something to her and she pouts, slapping him lightly with the carnation

* They’re getting along just fine without your matchmaking efforts

* So you were the problem

* You should be happy, relieved even-

* But all you can feel is the sharp twist in the bottom of your stomach

* “Hey (Y/N/N), I see you got my flowers”

* You turn around to see Conner who’s looking at your half zipped bag, 3 bouquets of flowers popping out of the top

* “Oh, yeah thanks they’re beautiful.”

* “I’m glad you got them, I noticed you weren’t at school and for a second I was worried you wouldn’t be here today too.”

* He really is cute. He’s got chocolate brown hair and clear blue eyes, a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He plays tennis or baseball or some other irrelevant sport.

* He’s popular with the girls too, he dated Lauren a few times, and Jessica admitted she had a crush on him freshman year.

* “Are you feeling better now?” He asks, he looks genuinely concerned and it takes you back a bit

* “Yeah, my dad came for a surprise visit so we went to Seattle”

* “Oh that’s cool, what did you guys do?”

* You’re a little surprised that Conner O’Malley, f*ckboy extraordinaire, is Trying to engage you in an honest conversation

* “We just did all the tourist stuff, space needle, museums, food, the usual.”

* Conner smiles at you, hands fidgeting together

* “That’s cool, did you um-did you read the note with the bouquet?

* You didn’t notice there was a note, you swing you backpack around, picking out his bright red bouquet with ease.

* You hadn’t paid attention to the note attached than reading the name on the front to see who they were from.

* “Will you be my valentine” you read the note out loud, feeling confused. What does that mean

* He fidgets in front of you, from here you can see his ears are bright red

* “So would you want to go out sometime?”

* He’s asking you out? On a proper date????

* “We could go watch a movie, or um I know you like to ride those bikes in Port A-“ you do like to ride those bikes in port a

* You watch the his human boy fumble over himself. There’s no future with this boy, one day he’ll grow old and want things you won’t be able to give him.

* “I have a ton of homework to catch up on-“

* “Oh, yeah no, I get that”

* But maybe... maybe it’s okay just to pretend and let yourself be entertained by the experience

* “Would you want to come with me to the library? I’m totally lost on Trig”

* You know it’s not the most romantic place, but that’s part of the reason you suggested it. You want to give him an out

* He looks a little surprised but recovers quickly.

* “I’ll meet you after school then, we can drive to the library together”

* You don’t bother telling Edward, you just look to the spot where he’s with Bella, he must have heard

* His eyes meet yours, his mouth pinches into a slight smile and he gives you a nod before turning back to Bella

* What so just because he’s got a new friend you’re invisible now?

* Stupid Edward. Not like you care, you just wanted him to know he’d have to ride home with the others

* Maybe his new best friend Bella can give him a ride home

* “So you’re going out with Conner tonight huh?” Mike asks when you take your seat in biology

* Edward doesn’t so much as spare you a glance

* “He’s just helping me catch up on school work.” You shrug, pulling out your biology homework

* “I bet he’ll help you catch up on-“

* “You’re going out with Conner?” Bella interrupts, you’re grateful for it but at the same time: those doe eyes and innocent face irritate you

* “He’s just helping me catch up on homework I missed”

* “Couldn’t Edward hell you do that?”

* You try to not look at Edward

* But what the f*ck?!?

* Last week the two of them couldn’t even sit in a car together for a short ten minute drive, and now all of a sudden she’s asking why you’re NOT spending time with Edward?

* It’s so... irritating

* You feel a tap on your arm, and turn to look at Edward

* “Control yourself”

* Oh great so the one time he decides to acknowledge your presence is to tell you to control your powers because he’s worried about his little human girlfriend getting the whiplash?!?

* Seriously, f*ck off Edward

* “Mr. Barnes I have to go to the nurse.”

* You don’t even wait to hear his answer, you just grab your bag and walk out

* You keep walking, practically fuming until you get to the parking lot

* Well you can’t leave, you already told Conner you’re going with him to the library after school

* Not to add it’s going to look real weird if you don’t go the nurses office eventually after storming off like that

* But you don’t want to go there yet

* Queue you discretely crouching under a window, lightly tapping the glass

* “Rosalie, Rosalie can you hear me?” You whisper

* Rosalie head turns to the window, her eyebrows threaded together, you poke your head just slightly above the ledge and give her a small smile and a wave

* Well at least it’s always interesting with you around

* “What are you doing?” Rosalie asks when she meets you under the school staircase

* You give her a nervous smile before collapsing onto the floor

* She gives you a knowing look before sitting beside you

* “So what did king Brood do now?”

* Queue the Edward rant

* “I leave for one week and all of a sudden he’s besties with some human, when just last week he told me not to get to close to her”

* “That’s Edward for you, king of the brood and hypocrisy.” Rosalie leans her head back against the wall

* “You know he didn’t even get me a carnation?”

* Rosalie rolls her eyes

* “That sounds like him, if it helps he didn’t buy me a carnation either, he just doesn’t think things like this are important”

* “He bought Bella one.”

* Rosalie sputters at that, so you retell her all about the flirting you had to watch

* “What color was the carnation?” Rosalie asks, and your eyebrows thread together

* Why is that important right now?

* “Um I don’t know, not quite pink, not quite red, something in between.”

* Rosalie’s expression smooths

* So that’s his game

* “Don’t worry about it too much as long as it’s not a deep red it doesn’t mean love”

* Now it’s your turn to sputter

* “W-what why would I be worried? Edward can do whatever he wants, even if it is with some human”

* Rosalie gives you a knowing look, and you avert your eyes

* If Rosalie were cruel she might ask why you’re sitting out here with her instead of in class, if you don’t care about what Edward does

* But Rosalie isn’t cruel, at least not to you

* She pats your shoulder, and you sigh

* “Come on let’s go to the nurse so you can pretend you have cramps or something” you nod

* “Besides don’t you have a date with the hottest human boy at our school?” You groan and a teasing smile curls onto her lips

* “Not you too.”

* The date is over hyped for sure, it’s mostly you and Conner sitting at the end of a small table asking each other questions about the trig homework

* “So...are you supposed to use the radical formula for this one?”

* “I think so..do you remember the formula?” Conner scratches his head

* “Um I remember there was a story about a mixed up guy going to a party that’s supposed to help”

* Basically it’s more like you’re helping Conner with home work than him helping you Totally underwhelming

* “Sorry, I bet there are better ways to spend your Valentine’s Day” Conner scoffs

* “Are you kidding? I’m spending it with the hottest person at Forks HS, as far as I’m concerned this is a win” he grins and you smile back

* Well, it wasn’t completely a waste

* You roll around back home around 11:30, everyone’s gone, on with their own Valentine’s Day plans.

* You’re not surprised to see Edward’s not in his room either He’s probably out watching Bella or doing god knows what

* You know this is the way it supposed to be, it’s the best thing for you too, you know even with Bella in the mix Edward would never betray you

* Once she’s on your side you don’t have to worry about the Volturi. But still, there a twist in your stomach You don’t like this new Edward, even if it is who he really is.

* You want your Edward back

* You sigh as you walk down the hall and into your room Stopping in the doorway when you flick on the lights

* There on your desk is a bouquet of roses

* You have half a mind to think they’re from Eleazer or Garrett or something

* So imagine when you pull off the card to see Edward’s name attached

* “Glad to have you home, happy Valentine’s Day” - Edward

* You toy with the card, a small smile curling onto your lips

* Maybe he’s still your Edward

* Your Edward just more anti-social

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10

#twilight #twilight imagines #twilight reader insert #twilight headcanons #waking up in twilight #edward cullen headcanon #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen #Conner twilight imagine #Conner x reader #Edward Cullen x bella swan #Volturi imagine #superhero—imagines

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smallblip · 3 years ago

Text

Forever Fifteen

Levihan | Part I of Good Bones | written for Levihan Week 2021- Memory (day 6)

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33635872

“Hello stranger…”

Hanji doesn’t have to look behind her to know who it is. Already, she’s pulling a cigarette case from the inner pocket of her jacket. She holds one out to her side, and with a brush of cold fingers against hers, it’s gone. Her heart beats out of her chest.

Oh be still! We’ve been through this before! This should be as mundane as- doing the laundry.

She turns to face him, scanning him from his nice dress shoes to the way his hair is slicked back, an exaggerated simper on her face.

“What’s a handsome stranger like you doing in a place like this?”

He scoffs. “The party’s not over yet…”

“I know…” she replies, tilting her head to get a better look at her company. “I’m just watching…”

He follows her gaze to the courtyard below the balconies, to where Jean is sitting with Mikasa. Just- talking.

“Happened right under our noses…” Hanji chuckles. Oh right… she mutters when Levi gestures for the light. There’s a little fumbling because of Hanji’s penchant for pockets, but she finds the box of matches eventually. She strikes one and holds it close to Levi. A bright little light that burns embers into the greys of his eyes. The dark circles under his eyes have made a permanent home under his skin, and there are now lines carved into the shadows. When did those get there?

As always, Levi is the first to look away.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that would you?” He raises a brow.

Jean is now laughing at something. Levi clicks his tongue in annoyance. In the many years he has known these damned kids, he hasn’t once laughed at anything Mikasa has to say. Jean must be a fool then. Jean is a fool because he listens too well to Hanji. Listens when she tells him he should go for it if that’s what he wants. Tell her a good pickup line, swap a few jokes, share a little fruitcake. Easy.

Hanji gasps dramatically, “as Commander of the Survey Corps, I would like to remind you that I am well aware of the policy against fraternisation!”

“That never stopped you…” Levi answers. But oh it has. The people who knew them as lovers are now dust. And now the rumours speak for them, past prefixed to lovers as a way to explain the familiarity, as a way to grow the distance.

Oh it has stopped them.

“Never stopped you either… If only they knew the great Captain Levi wrote crazy ol’ Hanji Zoë a love letter in his youth…” Hanji chuckles, a little too brave so it must be the alcohol, because she feels anything but brave lately. Her laughter is a little too bright for the night. A little too beautiful and familiar that it makes Levi smile. There’s a spray of pink on his cheekbones. The thought of people knowing the details is mortifying to say the least. But no one will know. This secret will be buried in a shared grave. A cosy little grave that gets a little damp in the summer. But they’ll brave the heat. Good things happen in the sun. Good for the linens too. Just- not good enough to untether the smell of Hanji’s skin from the fabric of his sheets.

“Do you remember what was in that letter?” She continues.

He doesn’t look at her now. His gaze is fixed on Jean’s fidgeting and he thinks of his own attempts at romance. His own little love story that blossomed beautifully and died tragically as they grew older. When they were put in charge for lives outside their own. When Erwin had named Hanji the next in line for the cursed role of Commander. One last night with her. One kiss and a handshake and a- hello stranger, my name is Hanji Zoë.

Levi. He had replied, just Levi.

He remembers Pyxis’ smug little “maybe your boyfriend can help with the mission” and Hanji’s vacuous, unthinking “oh he’s not my boyfriend anymore…”. The look on Pyxis’ face had been one for the books- a genuine surprise from coming by two pieces of information. So they are exes. The rumours were true. Menacing Levi and Kooky Zoë. Levi had launched a kick at Hanji’s shin under the table. Never in Levi’s life had he wished so much for the earth to swallow him whole.

“No…”

He says. It’s not lying if she knows what he really means. If she can tell, between each drag of her cigarette, what he’s thinking.

And she can. Oh she can.

He lets the memory dance across his eyes. That night at the pub, two kids puffing out their chests so they wouldn’t rouse suspicions (not that people care much in the Underground), listening to the men sing songs about love. Oh what Levi would give be young again. To look at Hanji, really look at her for the first time and have his mind play static on loop. To realise that for the rest of his life he’ll only be mesmerised by her.

She chuckles. Another drag of her cigarette, two taps to watch the ash drip. A wink.

“We must be getting old then, Levi…” She says, “in a few years we’ll be a couple of old prunes, you and I…”

Levi smiles at her. He’s never really thought about the mechanics of growing old. But he thinks the image is nice. Of Hanji tracing pruny fingers along the length of his pruny skin where the crescent scars sit in the leather of his skin. And he’ll remind her of the time when they kids, because that’s what old couples do right? Tease each other endlessly, talk about the ambiguity of the good old days, reminisce over long walks? Levi wants the complete works. He laughs to himself, a private little joke that simmers to a murmur-

Four-eyed prune…

It’s a little later when Hanji decides maybe it’s time to stop eavesdropping and get back to the party. The musicians announce the last dance of the night. The trumpets trail after the saxophone and the sound is something grand. And Hanji asks Levi if he wants to dance, because she’s a sucker for romantics, even though she’ll never admit it. And she knows Levi is too. And Hanji thinks life must still be pretty sweet if she’s dancing with her ex lover with a sea of memories between them and the abject refusal to explicate the boundaries of exes. Because it’s hard to forget. Because it’s hard to wash your lover’s scent from your sheets. No matter how hard you scrub, no matter how much the sunlight eats at the fabric and bleaches it. So much so that Hanji thinks it’s all in her head. The smell of his skin, the taste of cigarettes on his tongue- he only smokes with her, only with her- the ghost of his breath against the shell of her ear.

And Levi’s heart is beating out his chest.

Oh be still! We’ve been through worse! We scrubbed at the sheets until our fingers were raw and pruny, remember?

But with Hanji it’s hard to catch a break. He knows. He’s dealt with this for so long that he doesn’t even flinch when she tells him-

“You’re my best friend, Levi…”

But she recognises all the signs. The slight twitch of the corner of his lips, the creasing of the skin between his brows, the sadness in his eyes so bright that she has to avert her gaze.

“Do you tell all the boys that when you dance with them?”

He answers. And she hears the rhythmic grate of the sheets against the washing board.

Forgetting is hard.

“I don’t dance with other boys…” She replies, channeling Hanji Zoë at fifteen- was it sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen maybe? Hanji Zoë who would sneak into the boy’s barracks to make out with her boyfriend in the dead of night and scurry back under the sheets before anyone found out. “You know I like you the most…”

“Good…”

He says. And he’s Levi- a few years older than she had been, a little too curt, a little too much misplaced possessiveness, thinking to himself that maybe love isn’t so icky and banal. Thinking maybe this is what his mother had promised him. This is all that’s beautiful.

He leans his chin against her shoulder, wrestling against the caution thrown at his beating heart.

Let them talk. Let them say we were lovers in a past life. Because that’s all we are.

Hanji presses her temple against his. The familiarity is jarring in all the ways a stain is. Bright mustard yellow against white cotton, evidence of a split second stupid decision to eat on the duvet. This is a cumulation of mustard moments then- a stain so big the entire world turns yellow.

“I like you the most too…” Levi says, voice low like this is a secret. Like as if the whole of Paradis Island doesn’t already know.

Hanji chuckles, and the vibration that spreads from her bones to his makes him blush. He knocks his temple against hers. Stupid Hanji. Stupid mustard stain.

“Liar…” she laughs. The word is a breath that caresses his cheek. But she knows him- this boy Erwin collected from the underground city. He got under her skin and she proceeds to make it her job to get under his. She had greeted him with scars on his forearm and in return, she walked away with a bruised eye, a broken nose, and an epiphany. And in the years after- the good years- they do what every teenager would do-

fuck around and fall in love.

Levi pulls apart, and in that moment, his lips brush against her neck- fleeting casualness befitting a hey big idiot. It’s the hottest day in the history of mankind but I’ll brave the stickiness to kiss your sweaty neck. Befitting a lifelong stain of a crush on a stain of a human being that will never quite go away.

It’s hard to forget.

Hanji watches as Jean crosses the hall back to where Connie and Sasha are. A sheepish grin plastered on a bright red face. The two tease him endlessly and as always, Jean swats them away, trying to maintain his cool. Hanji knows nothing really happened, but his reaction can only mean hopeful possibility. She smiles.

“Hey, do you think we would’ve worked out?”

Hanji asks when they’re walking back to the barracks, her jacket concealing a few bottles of alcohol. The other bottles have found their way to Levi’s reluctant hands. They’ve been through this before. It’s okay now. After all, comfort is a stained duvet. Soon, she’ll have to bid him farewell with a goodnight, stranger. But for now, Levi answers without looking at her.

“Yeah…” he replies, matter of fact, “we’ve got good bones…”

Oh be still! Hanji feels betrayed that her heart- a wretched thing so broken- still beats the same for him- this beautiful stain of a human being. This moment is living, breathing nostalgia. What had they been before one another? Menacing Levi and Kooky Zoë. How could anything bad ever happen to them. She grins at him.

“The best…”

#levihan #lhw2021 #levihanweek2021 #day 6 #memory #Levi x hange #Levi x Hanji #Levi Ackerman #Hange Zoë #my fic #mine #levihan fanfic

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emblemxeno · 3 years ago

Text

JP vs. Localization in Fire Emblem Fates: Revelation

(Okay, for real this time lol)

Again, here’s a link to my sources post.

Fortunately, this route follows suit in terms of good localization quality after Conquest. It’s the shortest out of all the posts, since I don’t really have a lot to talk about. Mostly subtle line changes, references and a few key points of information that were cut out. I also went through Hidden Truths and Heirs of Fate to see if I could add stuff from those on here, but there were no big problems that I found.

Once again, the main part of this post will all be put under the cut. If a chapter isn’t covered, it means I didn’t think there were any differences worth talking about.

I’ll use localized names for characters and locations, unless I feel the need to do otherwise.

I’ll be using she/her when referring to Corrin in this post. (I flipped a coin to decide the gender lol)

Also, note that after Chapter 14, the translation of this route on Fateswartable ends, so I mostly relied on the English patch done by Serenes at that point forward. (I also used PegasusKnight.com as a reference to fall back on if I needed it)

Chapter 7

-A minor gripe I have with localization. The JP version compares Touma (Valla) to hell constantly. To jump ahead a bit, I believe in the JP versions of the End of All Sky/Land/Below tracks are even called The End of All Roads Heaven/Earth/Hell. The Vallites are also often called demons in the JP version, and Anankos himself is known as the ‘Invisible Demon Dragon’.

Another cool thing I just thought of too, is a connection to a popular Japanese short story. Zelda fans might be familiar with the story, “The Spider’s Thread”, which inspired the Ancient Cistern dungeon in Skyward Sword.

The beginning of the story has Buddha walking through paradise (heaven), before coming across a pond. The pond is filled with crystal clear water, and covered with water lilies/lotuses. As Buddha gazes further into the pond, he begins to see the depths of hell.

Sound familiar? “Azura is walking through Hoshido, before coming across a lake. The lake is filled with crystal clear water, and when she gazes into the lake she sees the fallen kingdom of her birth. Valla, the kingdom associated with water lilies/lotuses in the game, has been turned into hell itself.”

This association loses its meaning a bit when the comparisons to hell are a bit toned down, as well as when the Buddhist inspirations were kind of supplanted in favor of Greek renames. It’s not supremely important to the plot as a whole, but it’s something interesting I wanted to bring up.

-In the JP version, while explaining what happened in Valla, Azura eventually says “Using the art of manipulating people’s souls, he (Hydra/Anankos) made the people kill each other.” This bit of the people killing each other was cut in localization.

Chapter 12

-In the JP version, when Corrin asks Flora if she knows anything about dragons, Flora says “Sorry, I don’t know…The ancestral dragon of the Ice Clan has already perished and isn’t part of the legend. I don’t know what role it plays, sorry…” Localization makes her response “I'm sorry, but I can't think of anything... They've been gone so long that we don't even have tales of dragons in the Ice Tribe. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more assistance...”

So, the JP version explicitly says the Ice Dragon is dead (I believe Fates’ second artbook mentioned this as well), whereas the localization only says the First Dragons have been gone for a long time.

Chapter 16

-There’s not really much of a problem that I have with what Ryoma says about Corrin “having leadership qualities at a young age” but I wanted to do comparisons regardless cuz the word choice might lead one to different conclusions. In localization, Ryoma says this:

Ryoma: Huh... So she told us the same thing... I don't think it's in Corrin's nature to lie. And there's a leadership quality about her that just attracts followers. I remember being jealous of her as a child, in fact. Even at such a young age, she displayed the characteristics of a ruler. Silly to be jealous of her, right?

In the JP version, Ryoma says this:

Ryoma: Oh... So, she told you the same thing. …Corrin isn’t one to tell lies. She’s been like that since childhood. She’s always genuine and honest... She has this mysterious appeal that draws people to her. Seeing my younger sister with the qualities of being a ruler... Honestly, it makes me feel envious. …What a ridiculous thing to say, right?

Again, I don’t necessarily have a problem with how it was localized, but some might. The localization version might have people think that Corrin somehow was a fantastic leader at such a young age, but JP is more clear that it was about the qualities she had at a young age that would be valuable as a leader.

Chapter 19

-A minor gripe. In the localization, Azura says that Anankos uses his magic to send Vallites to Nohr and Hoshido to stir up conflict. In the JP version, she says he uses magic, along with the help of a body of water. That’s why whenever you fight Vallites outside of Valla proper, there’s a body of water nearby; Hoshido’s lake (and the ponds shown in Hinoka’s CQ battle which are in the capital) for Chapter 5, the sea for BR chapter 11, the burning falls for BR chapter 21, and the city for Rev chapter 13. Similarly, the consequences of being a victim to the curse are described as “turning into sea foam” in the JP version. Localization as a whole kind of toned down how much water has an influence on the story.

Chapter 23

-Probably the pettiest gripe I have lol. As Arete is fading away from Azura’s arms, Azura has a different reaction in localization and Japanese. In localization, Azura says “Mother? Mother!” while a voice clip of her in-battle pain cries plays. In the JP, she says “*Sob... Sob*…! Mother... Mother...!”, while a voice clip of her crying plays. Her crying voice clip I don’t recall hearing anywhere else.

This is one of the few times in the you get to see Azura express a heavy and heartfelt emotion, since her rough childhood caused her to remain guarded and stoic around everyone. The equivalents to this scene in other routes is her death scene in Birthright, and her crying with Corrin over Ryoma’s death in Conquest; a normally unflinching and aloof character breaking down is a rarity, and indicates that the cause of it is something to take note of for the character as a whole. Localization softened this aspect, and I take issue with it, despite it probably seeming trivial to most other people.

Chapter 24

-When Corrin is questioning the phantom Mikoto, an exchange happens. In localization, part of it goes like this:

Corrin: But this can't be... Are you truly my mother?

Mikoto: I am. Even as a puppet of Anankos, my spirit at least remains my own.

Corrin: I... I believe you.

In the JP version, it goes like this:

Corrin: It can’t be... …Are you really my mother?

Mikoto: Yes... I became an Invisible servant, controlled by the Invisible King... Even so, I am your mother.

Corrin: …………

Again, a minor thing that I don’t personally have issue with, but replacing Corrin’s silence with an admittance of belief could make some believe she has “reverted” back to being too naïve.

Chapter 26

-While Gunter is relaying his past, an exchange happens. In localization, it goes like this:

Gunter: I ask myself that, every day. I cannot understand the minds of royals. To you all, we commoners are little more than pawns in your schemes... Or weeds to be killed on a whim.

Corrin: That's not true...

Xander: Is that how people view the royalty?

Ryoma: Such an impression would easily breed powerful resentment...

In the JP version, Corrin, Xander and Ryoma don’t say anything. They just remain silent.

Endgame

-Not a major problem so much as a general thing about the game, but I can think of like... at least three memes that Treehouse inserted into the localization. Now I like memes, but there is no better way to date your media nowadays. One of them was Kana’s “That’s dragon for I love you” which tbh, is kind of cute and isn’t the most well known meme so I guess I can let it slide. Another is Felicia saying “I had one job!” when she messes up in the dining hall, which isn’t that big of a deal since the dining hall is very optional.

The last one I can think of is why I put this specific grievance here, and it’s during Corrin’s speech before facing Anankos.

Corrin: We won't back down! This is my... This is our destiny! Ready your weapons! Fight for your friends! With the Seal of Flames... With the Fire Emblem on our side! We fight for our world!!

Yeah, she says “Fight for your friends” which is everyone’s favorite Ike line from Brawl. Now, this isn’t even a totally inaccurate translation either, but it kind of just... makes the moment funny for the player when it’s supposed to be commanding and serious I guess.

But yeah, not the most important issue by far, but something I’d thought to mention. Hell, it’s not even that bad compared to how they made Peri’s, Effie’s and Hisame’s quirks into exaggerated and tired jokes. And the Beruka-Saizo support. Never forget.

-When Azura and Corrin are by the lake and discuss the latter’s plans to rule, Corrin says this in localization:

Corrin: I'm going to make Valla a wonderful place! In honor of the true last king and for Queen Arete. And everyone who fought... I promise to make them all proud.

In the JP version, she says this:

Corrin: I’ll make the Invisible Kingdom (Valla) into a great land. For the previous monarch, Queen Shenmei (Arete)… And for all of my allies who fought beside me. I promise.

So, JP version only mentions Arete as the reigning monarch of Valla. Which makes sense, cuz unless there was some wild “keeping the bloodline pure” shenanigans in Valla, Arete being the Queen keeps in line with what we know about the rest of Valla’s history. Arete was royalty from birth, as was her sister Mikoto. Arete is the one who passed down Lost in Thoughts and the pendant to Azura.

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