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theculturedmarxist · 5 months ago

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Yves here. We are overdue on giving a full-bore treatment on Project 2025, but this post will hopefully serve as a starting point. Sadly, ambitious and well-organized right wing campaigns to greatly increase the acceptance of their social and policy agenda have proven to be extremely successful, witness the Powell Memo and the Project for the New American Century. Trump is the explicit target of this Heritage Foundation scheme. Because the first Trump presidency was very much a “dog that caught the car” event, Trump had perilous little in the way of plans, and on top of that, weak cabinet members. For instance, Steve Mnuchin’s tax reform plan was an embarrassment, barely rising to the level of a napkin doddle. So after that misfire, the Administration took up the anti-tax lobby’s plan, include their off-the-shelf language. Trump might be a tad better prepared to be President if he wins again, but that does not make him any less receptive to pre-packaged programs from his fellow travelers. So this initiative very much bears watching.

By Diana Cariboni, who started writing for Tracking the Backlash in 2018 and is now openDemocracy’s Latin America editor. She was previously co-editor-in-chief of the IPS news agency and led its Latin America desk for more than ten years. She wrote the book ‘Guantánamo Entre Nosotros’ (2017) and won Uruguay’s national press award in 2018. Originally published at openDemocracy

Last month, populist leaders from around the world gathered for the Europa Viva 24 summit in Madrid. Headlines from the event were dominated by the big names in attendance – Argentinian president Javier Milei, France’s Marine Le Pen, Chile’s José Antonio Kast, and Italian and Hungarian prime ministers Giorgia Meloni and Viktor Orbán – and the fact it ended in a diplomatic row between Argentina and Spain.

But away from all of this noise and fury was a lesser-known speaker: Roger Severino, a former official in Donald Trump’s administration and the vice-president for domestic policy at influential US think tank The Heritage Foundation.

In a six-minute speech delivered in Spanish, Severino described Trump as a victim of lawfare launched by “the lefties” and said young people are subjected to a “culture and a medical system” that tells them to “explore all sexual appetites at age of 10” and that “abortion is not about destroying babies but about healthcare”.

Adding that young people are also taught “that if you are uncomfortable with your sex you were probably born in the wrong body, and surgeries can fix that mistake”, he said: “I’m here to tell you that God doesn’t make mistakes.

Severino is one of the architects of the Heritage Foundation’s blueprint for a second Trump term, named ‘Project 2025’. This aims to reshape the federal state in 180 days, fire tens of thousands of public servants and replace them with people loyal to the conservative cause, undermine the separation of powers, attack public education, and erase or restrict the rights of women, LGBTQ people, workers, migrants and Black people.

It also seeks to dismantle policies to tackle climate change and push for an energy agenda reliant on fossil fuels.

Its plan for doing so is set out in the ‘Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise’, an 887-page playbook published by the think tank, whose mission is “to formulate and promote conservative public policies based on the principles of free enterprise, limited government, individual liberty, traditional American values, and strong national defence”.

It is not absurd to say that some of the Heritage Foundation’s suggestions may well become law if Trump is elected in November. The politically well-connected organisation was founded in 1973 and published its first ‘Mandate for Leadership’ as Ronald Reagan took office in 1981 – later boasting that Reagan had enacted more than 60% of its policy recommendations.

Severino, who was Trump’s director of the Office for Civil Rights at the Department of Health and Human Services, wrote Project 25’s section on health. Of the 199 times the word ‘abortion’ is mentioned throughout the document, 149 are in this chapter, which urges the federal government to remove (or restrict as much as possible) any sexual and reproductive healthcare and rights whose oversight it has responsibility for.

Severino suggests eliminating the approval of abortion pills and banning their distribution by mail; barring the use of federal funds to transport people seeking an abortion in a state where it’s illegal to one where it isn’t; cutting federal funding to Planned Parenthood and other abortion providers; and removing emergency contraception from workers’ health insurance coverage.

In contrast, it’s hard to find any proposals to tackle the US’s real public health crises: opioids, falling life expectancyand rising maternal and infant mortality rates. This is perhaps unsurprising; the Heritage Foundation sees the Supreme Court’s overturning of the 1973 Roe decision that protected abortion up to 23 weeks as a victory – but also as “just the beginning”.

In the two years since Roe’s repeal, 21 states have banned or drastically restricted abortion, and legislative and judicial battles are raging in others attempting to follow suit. But the number of abortions carried out annually has actually increased, according to multiple studies – and so grow the dystopian battleplans for the continued war on reproductive autonomy. Several US cities have made it illegal to use their roads to transport people seeking abortions from a state where abortion is prohibited to one where it is permitted.

Project 2025 wants the Department of Health to go further still, urging it to “protect life, conscience and bodily integrity” and place “strong respect for the sacred rights of conscience” at the top of its agenda. Severino’s chapter calls for legislation requiring states to record data on abortions, including the number of terminations carried out, the reasons for them, the method used, the length of the pregnancy, and the state of residence of the person seeking an abortion.

It also suggests that scientific research conducted with public money should focus on “the risks and complications of abortion” and on “correcting and not promoting misinformation about the health and psychological benefits of giving birth compared to the health and psychological risks of intentionally taking a human life through abortion”.

But Project 2025’s focus isn’t only on reproductive health.

The president who takes office in 2025, the foreword says, must “remove from every existing rule, regulatory agency, contract, grant, regulation, and federal law the terms sexual orientation and gender identity, diversity, equity, and inclusion, gender, gender equality, gender equity, gender, gender-sensitive, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights, and any other term used to deprive Americans of First Amendment rights” (which protects freedom of religion, freedom of speech and press, and the right to petition the government for redress of grievances).

The future government must also “immediately cease the collection of data on gender identity, because it legitimises the unscientific notion that men can become women (and vice versa) and encourages the phenomenon of the constant multiplication of subjective identities”, Severino adds.

An Anti-Rights Past and Future

The Heritage Foundation is not the only highly influential institute involved in the writing of Project 25. Of the 100 organisations that sit on its advisory board or directly contribute to the playbook, several have been crucial to the advancement of extremist agenda in the US in recent decades and years.

In 2018, four years before Roe was overturned, Mississippi banned abortions after 15 weeks in the state – with legislation modelled on a bill conceived by the Alliance Defending Freedom (ADF), which the Southern Poverty Law Center lists as an anti-LGBTQ hate group and which sits on the Project 25 advisory board. The law was challenged and stayed by two courts on the grounds that it was unconstitutional because it violated Roe.

The law’s promoters took the case all the way to the Supreme Court, aiming to challenge and ultimately overturn Roe. Their strategy relied on the court having a right-wing majority, which was ensured by Leonard Leo, a conservative lawyer and activist who has founded a network of groups and funding hubs. Leo, who had already been influential in the appointment of three other justices, successfully lobbied Trump to appoint three anti-abortion members to the court – achieving a conservative supermajority of six out of nine justices. Leo’s network of nonprofits has reportedly donated millions of dollars to organisations that sit on the Project 2025 advisory board since 2021.

The result has been that around a third of women of reproductive age in the US, as well as other people who do not identify as women but can get pregnant, now live in a state where abortion is banned or severely restricted, according to the Guttmacher Institute.

The Heritage Foundation, ADF and Leo didn’t answer our requests for comments.

#us politics #project 2025 #naked capitalism

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years ago

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5 times there was someone alone in the infirmary + 1 time there wasn’t

4 - Charles

i hope i didn't scare anyone too much with the excerpt :) sometimes self care is randomly updating a fic you haven't worked on in 3 months. this is my take on Alastair going to see Charles in the infirmary in COI.

cw: toxic relationship

1 - Alastair | 2 - Alastair | 3 - Matthew | Masterlist

When Alastair arrived at the room in the infirmary where Charles was recovering, his parents were nowhere to be found.

“Where are your parents?” he asked.

"They're handling the aftermath of the battle," Charles answered. "They won't be back for a while; you need not worry."

"That's not why I asked," Alastair mumbled. He supposed it didn't matter. What was important was that Charles was in pain, he'd just faced death, and he was alone. No one deserved that, not even someone who would never give him the same sympathies.

"It's nice to see you. I'm sorry about your father."

"Are you?" Alastair countered before he could stop himself. A glint of shame sparkled in Charles' eyes for just a moment. Countless times, Alastair had attempted to confide in him about his difficulties at home. It was impossible to stay there with his father for more than a month or two, but at the time he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for abandoning his family. Every time, Charles had claimed to have been distracted by something or pretended to be asleep.

“I know- I know I made mistakes. I’m very sorry. I promise, I was trying my best, trying to do right by you. In hindsight, I think I went about it in the wrong ways, but I promise to do better if you’ll only give me another chance.”

"Tell me, if you'd never broken off your engagement, if I'd never left you, would you have stayed with me after wedding Miss Bridgestock?"

"I-" Alastair could see the long list of excuses forming in his mind. I would have left you. "The new British prime minister is unmarried, you know. A couple of years ago I couldn't have imagined it, but he did it. It's said that his love died before they could wed, but I could surely make a claim of irreparable heartbreak, couldn't I? Or perhaps this whole experience with Miss Blackthorn put me off of marriage entirely. I could do it, Alastair. I could become Consul while never marrying. I would be all yours. Please, Alastair."

Alastair's heart twisted in his chest. These were the words he had longed to hear for over two years now. "You could become Consul as a bachelor," he breathed. "We would still need to be a secret, I know, that's alright. I'd live in your shadow, while finding my own success, too. That type of life isn't for everyone, but I never liked attention much anyways. I would be perfectly content. And decades from now, a hundred years after we've both left this Earth, someone will find the letters we exchanged and know the love we shared."

Charles gave him a soft smile. "Exactly."

Alastair looked at him blankly. “You know, if you’d told me that a year ago, I would have believed you.”

Pain sparked in Charles’ eyes, and Alastair wondered if he was beginning to feel a fraction of the heartbreak that he’d felt nearly every day for over two years. “What will it take, then, for you to believe me?”

Alastair considered it for a moment. “Nothing. There’s nothing, Charles. Not after you spent nearly two years lying to me, allowing me to believe that your engagement to Miss Bridgestock was never genuine. You told me over and over again that everything you did was for you and I to be together, but that was a lie, too. Because I know the answer to the question you so deftly avoided: You would have left me. You were planning on leaving me the entire time. I’m sorry, Charles, no amount of remorse can fix what you’ve done. No sudden realization can make me trust you again, or believe that you’d ever put me before your own wants.”

Charles fought back tears in his eyes. “Are you serious? I nearly just died and you came here to lecture me on being the boy who cried wolf?”

“I came here as a courtesy, because you called out for me when you were dying. But you have to stop, Charles. It’s not fair to either of us.”

“I can’t, Alastair, I love you.”

“If you truly loved me at all, you would respect the fact that I don’t want to be with you. You would stop writing me letters and cornering me at parties. You need to find another name to call for when you’re in pain.”

“I can’t believe you’re still doing this.”

Alastair wasn’t the obedient teenager he once was, he supposed. “I don’t love you anymore, Charles,” he said bluntly. It was the truth, but the words were still difficult to say. There was a time he felt so consumed by his love for him that he believed there would be nothing left of him without it. His hands shook as he spoke, a consequence of a love gone sour. “I’ve moved on, or I’m trying to. I spent so long trying to be someone I thought would appeal to you. I know you never asked for that, but now I am only trying to figure out who I am apart from you, apart from anyone else.” His mind went achingly to Thomas’ big sad eyes watching him leave just moments before. “I want you to move on, too.”

“And if I don’t know how to do that?”

“You need to start by letting me go, Charles.”

“Alright,” he sighed. “But do you- do you think you could stay for a little while, as a friend? I don’t want to be alone.” Alastair thought it might be the most honest thing Charles had ever said to him.

“Fine,” he agreed. Not even Charles deserved to be in pain with no one there to comfort him or care for him. “But only until your parents return, and first I must go home to check on my mother. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He grimaced as he exited the infirmary, leaving Charles alone. He felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but he did not trust it enough not to return.

thanks for reading! At the end of COI it said Alastair went back to the infirmary & Charles another time so this is my take on that, bc Alastair spent like half his life taking care of someone who didn't deserve it 💕

taglist: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @awayfrmhome @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-thedavid-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @agnesandmina @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @adamariasmith @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @buttcrflys-rose @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd @wagnerthedragon

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #tlh #the last hours #fanfiction #fanfic #tw toxic relationship

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lailannajacobs · 3 years ago

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Heart of the Night

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky finds you after a mission that didn’t quite go as planned.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: lil bit angsty

A/N: This is my submission for @wkemeup 9k challenge, it’s not quite as edited as I would have liked but the end of the school year is always super busy so here it is! Congrats Kas, you are such an incredible writer, your talent absolutely blows my mind, it’s just unbelievable and I hope one day to have a tenth of your skill! You deserve everything great and more! <3

The needle trembled, metal glinting off the fluorescent light in your bathroom as it hovered just above the skin of your abdomen. The air reeked of copper. The pristine sink was marred with the dark red streaks of failure. You tried to swallow, but it felt like you were choking on your own throat.

The needle approached the bloody canyon made by a knife you’d been too careless to avoid, and hovered there, trying to find its mark. The world swayed. You’d lost too much blood already. The needle clattered into the sink, black thread trialing behind it like a broken tether. You were somehow conscious — delirious? — enough to think you were lucky it hadn’t gone down the drain because you didn’t have time to call a plumber. Wait no. You’d just have to get a new one from the cabinet. You tried to reach for the needle. Your body didn’t react. Instead, it swayed dangerously, only your fighting instincts keeping you from tumbling to the floor by gripping onto the edge of the sink. At least there were some things blood could wash off from.

“YN!” that familiar voice burst into your apartment, “pool table. Five minutes. I swore to Sam that this was the day we finically beat Vision and his perfect calculations.”

You swore at the joyful ness in his voice. You couldn’t match that tone right now if you tried. But you had to. The mission had gone well. You’d done what you’d set out to do. Only you, the ever-present failure, had gotten yourself stabbed along the way. The only mercy was that no one else had noticed and you’d disappeared to your apartment without drawing suspicion. That was, until now if you couldn’t pull yourself together. You willed your body to close the bathroom door, but it wouldn’t move. If anything, everything only spun even more.

“Where the hell are...”

You felt his presence in your doorway. Felt his gaze like a physical thing. You were always aware of him. Even now was no exception. Maybe if you pretended he wasn’t there, he’d go away. Right. And the three-inch gash in your stomach would stitch itself up. You turned your head, not realizing how many abdominal muscles it took to look over your shoulder. Your pride and the death grip your slick fingers held on the porcelain were the only reasons the spinning didn't send you tumbling to the ground.

When your bathroom came into focus again, the only thing you really saw was Bucky taking up most of the doorway. And he was seething. His normally cool eyes were raging hurricanes, framed between hard lines of frustration on his face. They scanned you from top to bottom with deathly calm, from the sports bar you had on that exposed all your skin and the bruises you garnered during the mission to the sweatpants you’d changed into. An X-ray would have been less intrusive. You shivered. It was probably the blood loss.

You wanted to make up some excuse for your failure, but his anger was justified. You were a liability on the field. They were bound to have figured it out eventually.

He said nothing as he stalked over in a few brisk strides, fury emanating from him in waves. He stopped beside you, the pleasant smell of his freshly showered body chasing away the tang in the air. You closed your eyes. It was a coward’s move, but you’d take any peace you could get before everything you’d worked so hard to keep got taken away from you.

“Sit,” he ordered in a low, almost growly voice, “now.”

You went to sit on the toilet but tipped backward before you could make it. His arms gathered around you, easing you onto the closed seat. Your head lolled back and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“No.” He decided, “I need an explanation. Talk to me.”

It seemed like too much work. All you wanted to do was go to sleep.

“No,” he ordered as if you’d spoken the words aloud. Maybe you had.

You opened your eyes, caught in the crossfire of his icy stare, “Hydra agent during the extraction.”

“Shit,” he muttered.

The extraction of the French Prime Minister had been more than an hour ago. You should have been stitched up a long time ago. You should not have been dripping on the pale bathroom tiles.

“Surface wound,” you continued as professionally as your body would allow, knowing that even though you’d live, your failure was the reason for his fury, “came here. Was in the process of fixing it.”

“We have medics,” he growled, “what were you thinking?”

You didn’t answer. You weren’t about to tell him how your presence was a poison that would likely get them all killed eventually. Or that your constant mistakes were your own consequences to deal with — to fix. He probably knew that all ready. His question had to be rhetorical.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he were trying to steady his anger. You stared at him, the winter soldier kneeling before you, his calloused hands still resting on your hips. He let out a sigh, his breath warm on your stomach.

“I should call for a medic,” he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, “I can take care of my own mistakes.”

His lids snapped open, piercing blue eyes pinning you to the spot with their ice cold intensity. He was obviously still pissed. But he didn’t call for a medic. Instead, he got up, warm hands leaving behind nothing more than goosebumps and shivers — from the blood loss, of course— and picked up the needle.

“This is going to hurt,” he murmured once he was kneeling in front of you again.

You tried to nod, but the motion sent your vision spinning again and you gripped onto his shoulder for support, the metal sturdy beneath your grip.

He looked up into your eyes, “are you sure you want me to do this? It’ll leave a scar and it won’t be pretty.”

“It’s only fitting,” you coughed a laugh, “at least the outside will start looking like the inside.”

His brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything. He knew what you were. You were a mutant who somehow got the ‘gift’ of being able to make anything stop functioning. You could make plans fall apart. Kill a software program. Stop a body’s functioning. Even ruin a functioning team like the Avengers. With skill, you should have been one of their greatest assets, ruining everything that threatened the world. But your ‘gift’ extended to yourself as well. You ruined everything you touched. Even the good. Especially, it always seemed, the good.

He pierced your skin without warning, but you were glad for the pain. It gave you something else to focus on than the echoing thoughts of your failure. But Bucky was gentle. Despite the anger you knew must still be there, his movements were delicate and focused, hesitating whenever you winced or sucked in a breath.

By the time he tied the knot, you were surprised you were still upright. He might have been efficient, but you couldn’t tell if it had taken seconds, minutes or even hours. His hands cupped your face and eyes you hadn’t realized you’d closed fluttered open. He was so close now, his expression pinched with worry. You couldn’t help but wonder how it could be for you.

“I’m almost done,” he said softly, “but you’ll probably need a transfusion.”

Adrenaline kicked in. You couldn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Please don’t take me there,” you begged, “I can’t hurt anyone else.”

Your abilities rarely activated while you were asleep, but you wouldn’t risk the lives of the other patients or the doctors by going down to the medical wing. Years ago, when you’d realized what your abilities were, you’d stopped sleeping anywhere near anyone else. Now, hurt, there was an even greater chance you might lose control.

If you hadn’t been working so hard for consciousness, you would have also told Bucky to leave. But it wouldn’t have mattered. For some reason, he always stayed. Even when he was within the radius of your power. Even when you told him to go. Especially then. He always stayed.

“I won’t hurt anyone else,” you choked out, “I always hurt someone else.”

His thumb brushed across your cheek, “and yet you saved me today.”

You looked away from his burning gaze, your tears threatening to spill.

He continued, mercifully ignoring your watery eyes, “even though you were hurt you dropped that Hydra agent before he could shoot me in the back. We didn’t lose a single agent today, YN. That’s because you were there.”

“No,” you tried to shake your head, but his hands held on tightly, “they — you — saved yourselves. I got stabbed.”

“You got stabbed because you were busy watching everyone else’s back,” he growled, that earlier anger returning.

“I ruin things,” you repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

But it didn’t matter. He never seemed to believe you. But he needed to. You desperately needed him to before you ruined him too.

“Please leave,” you whimpered.

His answer was simple, “No.”

He took his hands back, but it was only to find some gauze to place over your cut. Once he was done, he scooped you up so gently the movement only hurt a lot instead of blinding pain and brought you to bed.

You gripped his shirt, fist balling up at the hem with all the strength you had left, “you need to leave, Bucky. Now.”

For some reason, the bastard smirked, “Someone has to make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

“I’ll be fine,” you snapped, though it lacked any kind of force.

He didn’t look impressed, “If you were fine you wouldn’t be begging me to leave. You’d be downstairs with me and we’d be getting our asses handed to us by Vision and Sam like every other Thursday night.”

You wanted to protest. You wanted to protect him, but you had no fight left in you. And with the plush mattress calling you to sleep, the world went dark before you could figure out a way to get him to leave.

“All right Destructo, show me what you’ve got.”

You weren’t a fan of the nickname, but you weren’t about to tell the Tony Stark to shut up and use your real name. And anyways, as much as you hated using your abilities, and how you were always overcome by the tidal wave of fear that sent fear rolling like waves throughout your body, you always felt better — healthier even — after using them. And he was giving you free range now.

Eight suits surrounded you in a perfect octagon, hands out like they were ready to strike. Tony had somehow altered his suits so that they’d shoot bubbles — of all things — instead of small blasts and said you’d only be alive if you managed to take them all down before a single bubble came out.

A small grin unwittingly made its way onto your face.

“Glad to see you’re having fun,” Tony remarked, “it’ll come in handy for future testing. Ready?”

You nodded and ignored the bit about future testing. They might have thought they wanted you now but after they saw how much of a curse you really were, they weren’t going to keep you around long enough for future testing. You prayed that day wasn’t any time soon.

But you were ready now. That was until Tony’s voice crackled through the intercoms once more, “just make sure you don’t kill anyone of us in the process. I’d hate to miss Taco Tuesday.

You lifted your chin, “Give me thirty seconds with the enemies and you’ll have your taco.”

“Such confidence,” he remarked with a chuckle.

It was false bravado but you wanted this. You wanted out of your hell hole. So you weren’t about to let him see any of the very real fear that you actually might kill him. in the process.

You let out your power in a giant blast.

You bolted upright, gasping for breath. Black spots clouded your vision but you forced through the waves of dizziness, looking for the one person you couldn’t bear to hurt. He was supposed to have left. Your next breath never came. Bucky’s long limbs spilled over the edges of the chair in the opposite corner of the room, his phone resting on his chest. His eyes were closed, a peaceful look on his face but that didn’t mean anything. The dead often looked at peace.

Then his phone rose and fell with his chest. You held back a sob. Your relief would have sent you tumbling if you hadn’t been sitting. He was alive.

Without your blinding panic, the rest of your room came into focus. He’d left all the clothes you’d strewn over the chair in a neat, folded pile on your dresser. You glanced over at your alarm clock for the time, which was…off. Your dread clenched it’s fist around your stomach. It had been on. So had your air conditioning unit. And where was the constant hum of your ancient refrigerator?

“They’re all fried,” Bucky’s gruff voice came through the silence as if he’d actually been sleeping, “the phone gave a nice little shock when it died. Snapped me out of my sleep that’s for sure.”

Your heart was still trying to hammer its way out of your chest when you said, “You could have gotten hurt. I don’t know how you’re not.”

“I do,” he replied simply, eyes finding yours.

“No, you don’t,.” you shook your head more than you had to, “No, you can’t.”

“I can because I’ve trained with you almost every day since you got here. I know that your gift,” you scoffed at the word but he kept going, “your gift works differently depending on who and what you’re targeting. And I know you don’t target people. Not unless you have to and even then I see that it kills you to do it.”

You looked down at your sheets, hating the way his words resonated through your body, refusing to go away. But you could still ignore it.

“That might be true, but Tony has been making his suits to withstand me. In case I can’t control my powers and they hurt anyone on our side. He might say it’s in case we meet another mutant with powers like mine, but we all know that’s not true.”

“Why can’t it be both?” he huffed then took in a slow breath. It did nothing to hide the growl in his voice when he asked, “None of us are perfect, why do you have to be?”

Because, even as a full grown adult, you were afraid you’d somehow end up back in that orphanage, unloved and unwanted because all you did was ruin things. And you didn’t know what you’d do if you ruined the closest thing you’d ever had to family. Perfect kept you here. Perfect kept you safe.

He stood from the chair, and came to kneel beside your bed. He brushed aside the hair that had stuck to your forehead with sweat, calloused fingers resting gently on your cheek when he was done.

“You’re one of us now” he whispered as if he could read your mind, “and I — we — won’t let you go that easily not matter what you think of your abilities. Even if that means I have to inspect you for cuts and bruises myself after every mission. You are good, YN.”

You could only nod, taken aback by the ferocity in his voice. Still, it didn’t stop you from looking him over head to toe once more just to make sure he was okay. Then you noticed something off with him.

“Where’s your arm?”

He ran his hand through his hair, a sheepish look on his face, “it might have fallen off a few seconds before you woke up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “I hurt you.”

He shook his head fiercely, “you didn’t. I’m fine.”

“But I could have,” you protested.

“But you didn’t,” he said, “you never do. Because despite what you might think, you control this thing inside you and we all trust you with it.”

You were about to object but he stopped you by pressing a light kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back there was that lopsided little grin on his face that made you realize how light headed you were feeling, “one day we’ll get to a place where you’ll find this funny. I promise.”

And somehow, you believed him.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #Bucky angst #fanfic #fanfiction

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antiloreolympus · 3 years ago

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7 Anti LO Asks

1. ok, tell me if im wrong here, but i physically cannot find lo hades attractive because he just looks like a tumblr sexy man version of snow miser from those old stop animated christmas movies. like theyre literally the same 😭

2. I absolutely hate how everyone is making Persephone to be this bubbly little girl who is way too nice, and in LO’s case it’s the worst. Sure Persephone is associated with spring, but spring isn’t only flowers and happiness. Spring brings aprils rain, burning sun, in some places it’s hunting season, and animals which were hibernating wake up and go and hunt other animals and you know, kill them and eat them. Spring is uncontrollable weather, one moment it’s warm a couple of minutes later it’s cold again. Today is sunny tomorrow there’s a storm. Associating Persephone only with the good parts of spring makes her a weak and one dimensional character, especially since she is also knows as queen of the underworld. Spring brings as much death as it brings life. It is not a cutesy season and associating Persephone with it and just making it this cartoonish is a dumb move. In some panels Hades talks about how there were some moments where spring seemed much more wild and uncontrollable, since Persephone was the one doing the work. Why can’t we see that in LO? If Persephone is spring why isn’t she wild and uncontrollable as well? This part of Persephone should have been written from the beginning, instead of seeing a little melancholic girl who can’t say no to people.

3. LO could have beee more creative with the modern timeline tbh. Poseidon could have been like a Steve Irwin type with a sea-life tv show. Zeus could have been a fantasy version of a Prime Minister. Hera could be a socialite. Apollo could have been the leader of a band (the muses are his background sisters/musicians), i could go on. LO just went "uh, they all have vague businesses and cell phones" and that's it. Oh also they video tapes, you know a thing no one has used since 1997.

4. I just remembered that in a chapter when Hades and Persephone were talking, Hades told her how she seemed sad at the olympus party? And it doesn’t really make sense bc why would she be sad? She got the freedom she wanted, she’s going to a party without her overbearing mother, she’s with a friend? And since she’s so friendly and bubbly wouldn’t she be able to make friends straight away? She knew Artemis, Hera and i’m guessing Hestia and Athena must have been there as well. Was it so hard for her to just move around and see who she knew? And then we have creepy Hades who is like “you seemed sad, like me, at that party 🥰🥰” like??? Just bc you are sad and don’t like your life why the hell do you think other people are too?

5. I don’t understand why every sheltered character (usually if not always female) is always like “uwu I’m innocent and don’t know about the bad things in the world! I act shy at first but in reality I’m open and extroverted!” I mean some people who were sheltered are like that and and there’s nothing wrong with it but it’s never deconstructed or seen as creepy in stories like LO (i.e. naive young person x powerful older person power imbalance) why can’t we have a “I struggle to properly communicate informally with people my age and it affects me deeply, I’m cold and distant but I feel lonely at the same time, I’m outcasted for my interests because I‘ve been closed off from the world” type? A story about them developing relationships and getting some character development whilst still being introverted would be interesting, but I guess when you have female characters like that they can’t be sympathetic /s

6. I think Rachel shot herself in the foot when it comes to Persephone's act of wrath and the stans are basically fixing her mistake in their mind. If stans really wanted to pull the "she's a god, gods just do those kinds of things nbd"-card, Rachel should've actually made it no big deal. Instead, she put in place that gods cannot just kill mortals willy-nilly. Eros was going to be reprimanded for his Heartbreak Act of Wrath, but basically got saved by Zeus' General Horniness because, well... Zeus I guess? 🤷‍♀️ But the rules are there. If it's not okay for Eros, why would it be okay for Persephone? I low-key hate that I'm agreeing with Zeus the hypocrite here, but he is right: Hades (and the stans) are biased.

7. I'm only partially sarcastic when I say that I am low-key jealous of Rachel. I don't think I would be getting away with such an inconsistent art style- and I do mean in every way possible, she literally admitted on Twitter and I quote: "my drawing style is inconsistent, but I think that's part of the charm? Being flexible is what allows me to stay engaged with projects I've been doing for years now".

Don't get me wrong, there's an art style improving over time, heck there is a creator realizing a certain art style just doesn't work well on the long run and -TELLING THEIR FANS- it will change from the pilot chapter on, but then there's.... whatever Rachel is doing. Seeing how much the crew of Steven Universe got shat on for having inconsistencies while two animation studios were working on it just makes me wonder why Rachel doesn't seem to get that bs from her stans. At least Steven Universe has character sheets....

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical #anti lo art

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lawyering-and-running · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 8 - Don't Shoot The Messenger

Garrison, Birmingham

Tommy slammed the door of the private room shut. Arthur and John immediately stopped talking, an angry Tommy always put them on edge. “Why is everything going wrong?” He gulped down a random glass of whiskey before pouring a fresh glass and throwing that back as well. ��Tommy-“ “Polly is angry with me about Michael when I only did it to help her. You, Arthur, are losing control. And now I have to worry about spies in my own fucking pub.” He raged on “I need everyone to get themselves together.” The room was silent as Arthur and John shared a look. Picking up the bottle of alcohol, John poured everyone another glass “Guessing you did something to screw it up with your girl then?” “Fuck off John” clinking their glasses together they downed the whiskey, “Come on Tom boy, why not give the lass a chance? You could at least have some fun out of it.” Arthur added, giving a sly smirk. Tommy sighed lighting a cigarette, “Need you both to get some of the Blinders to make sure the Italians and anyone associated with them stay far away from our Birmingham.” “Alright Tommy, so long as you fix whatever stupid thing you said to her.” Tommy rolled his eyes before leaving the Garrison so he could get some rest.

Midland Hotel, Birmingham

The next morning saw the group half piled on top of each other from where they had stumbled in only hours earlier. Nicole sat up with a groan, dislodging one of the many limbs flung across her. That might have been a few drinks too many she thought. From the sunlight filtering in through the window she could tell that it was still early morning. Good. She was not in the mood to prove Tommy right. She felt so naïve for her silly infatuation, that would have to end immediately. Her priority was improving her family’s life, Tommy was right, she was no Thomas Shelby businessman extraordinaire. She did not want to be him.

She would be better.

Stand up for the outcasts and underdogs, fight for a better life for all those who had been dealt a bad hand in life. Shaking Nej awake she signalled her to stay quiet “I need you to deliver this to the Prime Minister’s desk.” She whispered. “You need me to do what?!” “shhh” quieter now, “you need me to do what?” Nej stared up at her wide eyed. “I need you to deliver this message to the Prime Minister’s desk in parliament without being seen. Trust me. There’s coin in the bag.” Nej nodded starting to gather some supplies for the trip, pausing she turned back to Nicole and grabbed her hand “You don’t have to figure the whole world out by yourself hun. It’s alright to lean on others.” “It’s just safer for now for no one else to know. I promise I’ll explain everything soon.” Nej turned to face her at the edge of the building’s balcony “Well thanks for the challenge” With that Nej let herself fall over the railing, disappearing from view within seconds.

The next to wake up was Nina, who immediately wanted to know about her dance with Tommy. “I saw you and a certain Shelby brother getting a handsy…details please.” Nicole had been expecting some questions, although part of her had been hoping they hadn’t been paying attention or were already too drunk to remember it. Clearly luck was not on her side. “It was a mistake Nina, let it go.” “Just let him in already, what’s the worst that could happen? You have some fun, maybe it fizzles out eventually but at least you had some time together.” Shaking her head Nicole said, “It won’t work he made it clear last night that we aren’t a suitable match.” Now it was Nina’s turn to shake her head “Men are idiots. They react in strange ways as soon as feelings start to become involved.” “It doesn’t matter Nina, I have a couple of plans I’m starting to put into motion.” Nina pulled her into a warm embrace “We all know you’re going to make a difference someday. Every King needs a queen, but every queen needs a king too hun. Remember that.” This conversation was starting to feel far too sentimental for Nicole, so she turned away from Nina shaking the others awake and splitting some of their food rations. “Alright gang, up and at em, I’m going to head to the shop to see if they have a task for us.”

Nicole made her way to the betting shop to see the door to Tommy’s office open and the man in question lounged back reading the morning’s paper. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to demand an apology for how he acted last night, or if she just wanted to pretend nothing happened. Playing pretend was easier, and ensured she was better able to keep her distance. Knocking on the door to get his attention “Do you have any work for us Mr. Shelby?” His blue eyes met hers, thrown off by the sudden reappearance of formality. “I need you to get the group to put the word out that the Black Country Men and the Brummies are working together now, all able-bodied men are to work under Billy down in Solomons’ Bakery. Then I want you to meet me down in Camden, Alfie wants to see you again.” Tossing the required bag of coin to Nicole. “Alright.” She remained cold as she turned away from him, moving towards the door. “Nicole.” She paused “I said some things last night that were unfair.” “They were true, no harm done. Anything else Mr. Shelby?” she asked in a sugar sweet voice. “They were not true, I value you far more than that, you must know that by now.” Tommy took a step towards where she was still stood facing the door. “Like how one might value a prized horse, right Tommy?” “Back to Tommy, eh sweetheart?” A silent moment passed. She hated that despite deciding that she was going to ignore her feelings for him, he seemed to blow through her defences as if they were nothing. She liked him. “I’ll be seeing you later Nicole, I think you and I need to have a talk.” Turning her head to face him as she opened the door. “I’ll have to check my schedule.” With a wink, she shut the door behind her. Got the last word again!

Houses of Parliament, London

Nej arrived in London with good time. She did not really have a plan. How could she? When she had never had to sneak into a building like this before, she didn’t have a clue what to expect. Were there guards at every corner? Would there be corners to hide? Taking a deep breath she made sure her face was covered by her scarf. The front entrance would not be possible, the staircase and pathways were far too much in the open.

Nej had briefly contemplated stealing some women’s business attire so she could disguise herself as a secretary, but there were so few women walking around Parliament that even in disguise she would probably stand out too much. So it had to be plan B, sneaking in undetected. The next option was to find the servants entrance, surely there would be one to keep such a massive building running. Ducking into alleyways she crept around the sides of the building until she came across a delivery entrance where they were currently unloading a truck full of crates of alcohol. How anyone in government managed to get anything done when all they seemed to do was drink was a mystery to her. She smiled to herself. That is probably exactly the reason why nothing ever changes. She waited until there was only one man left, then followed behind him as he carried the last crate inside. She found herself in a large storeroom, luckily with a lot of dark corners to hide in.

As the man left to go back outside Nej cracked open the door on the other side of the room, looking into an empty hallway. She followed the hallway coming past a big kitchen, with lots of shouting a noise coming from inside. Continuing until she found servants stairs leading up further into the building, through the next door she saw a richly decorated hallway with office doors with names of MPs on them. Maybe she could leave her own message for the Birmingham MP and tell him how much of a shithole their city was. Feet light she quickly walked to wards the back of the building, names flying past but none that were correct. When she’d scoured this entire floor, she went up the stairs to the top floor where she ducked behind a large statue. She was pretty sure she was in the right place, considering there was a big door with a secretary sitting at her desk in front of it.

Nej had two problems, 1) she needed to be sure Churchill was not in his office and 2) she needed to get the secretary away from her desk. The first problem resolved itself naturally with a bit of waiting as a young man came up the steps and did the work for her “Is the Prime Minister in?” “No, I can take down a message for you or you can find him in the Gentleman’s club.” Perfect, on to the second problem. The next time the secretary turned away from her with her coffee in hand Nej threw a stone at one of the light bulbs, smashing it. The loud noise startled the secretary who spilled the drink over her clothes. “Oh Shit! Those rotten lights.” The secretary continued to grumble to herself as she grabbed her purse and headed off to presumably the bathroom. Seizing the opportunity Nej slipped inside the Prime Ministers office. Quite the feat if she did say so herself. Walking over to the grand wooden desk she placed the envelope front and centre, before letting herself sit in the equally grand chair. What would it be like to have that much power? Nej was not sure she liked the view; she wouldn’t want to be responsible for so many lives.

Was that the sound of shoes?

She had let herself dally for too long, seeing no other option she opened the window and climbed out onto the roof. Shutting the window just as the door opened and Churchill himself came into view. The man walked over to the desk and picked up the letter, plopping down in his chair with an undignified grunt. This was pure gold to Nej. He opened up the letter and began reading, Nej did not know what Nicole had written but his eyes darted around the room before flying back to the words written on the pages. She had seen enough, she quietly lowered herself down the side of the building. Disappearing back down the streets of London to go and fetch herself a treat before making her way back to Birmingham. Hopefully, she would be able to pry some of those secrets out of Nicole, must be something good if it caught a man like the Prime Minister’s attention like that.

Camden Town, London

The main room of the bakery was flooded with men, many of whom she recognised from the morning’s recruiting task. Nicole made her way past the line and headed into Alfie’s office upon hearing a shout of “Next lad!” hearing grumbles from the men behind her. Alfie was sat behind his desk writing things down in a ledger, without looking up he spoke “Name and profession?“ “Have you forgotten my name already Alfie? Age must be catching up to you.” He stood up, rounding the desk so that he could clasp her shoulders in his firm grip “Little bird! Told you I’d be seeing you soon.” She could not help but smile at the bearded man. “I was told you wanted to see me.” “Ah yes! Right birdy, so what I hear, yeah, is that I can pay for your discrete and confidential services. Would that be true?” The phrasing made her pause, but business was business and the Shelby’s and Solomon’s were allies. “For the right price, yes.” Alfie nodded “That’s what I thought.” flicking a coin in her direction. She caught it, seeing it was a whole pound. Far more money than she had ever received for a single message. Nicole pocketed the coin, holding out her hand for the letter. “Pop this under the door at this address.” Looking down at the address it did not stand out for any particular reason. Nothing that would warrant a whole pound, she had sent Nej into Parliament for less! “That it?” “That’s it.” Easy money and hopefully more business with Alfie in the future, that was something she could get behind. “There isn’t a name on the envelope.” Alfie’s eyes became sharp, the room not feeling quite so comfortable anymore. “Discrete and confidential means its none of your business innit?” everything about this was suspicious, but she really did not want to get on the wrong side of Alfie. Nicole nodded “There’s no need for that Alfie. I was just checking that this wasn’t another thing you were forgetting in your old age.” She tried to joke. Thankfully Alfie started smiling again, and the room lightened along with it. “Funny little bird, off you go then. I have bakers to hire.” Pocketing the letter she left to go and do her task so she could go back to Birmingham. Hopefully Nej would be back as well by then.

She could not wait to hear if Nej had been successful.

Birmingham

Nicole had only been back in Birmingham for an hour after delivering Alfie’s message before suddenly a Peaky lad that she’d had a couple of conversation with ran up to her. Poor lad was clearly in distress and as he relayed the news to her she understood why. Turning on her heel she ran back to the betting shop, slipping in through the back door. “Is he in Lizzie?” “They’re all in there, maybe you should leave the message with me for later-” Without another word Nicole knocked on the door before opening it, not waiting for a response. The man from the village a few days ago was there, along with the three Shelby brothers and Polly. She wondered who he was to have gotten so close to the Shelby’s when besides the village she had never seen him before. The group seemed to have been discussing something but paused when she appeared. Nicole’s eyes shot to Tommy’s, and something in her gaze must have told him her news was not pleasant. She was not sure yet if this stranger was privy to the Shelby business. Tommy signalled with his head for her to come closer, she rounded the desk leaning towards him before quietly whispering “One of your Blinders named Digbeth Kid was murdered in his cell. It was Sabini’s men, sent as a message.” She could see his jaw clench as he inhaled sharply, so close to him she could smell the scent of whiskey and smoke. Dear lord, she needed to get her feelings under control this was definitely not the time. Tommy pulled out a coin from his pocket for her, but she pushed his hand away “I’m not profiting from a man’s death” With that she quickly left the room so that Tommy could decide how he wanted to exact his revenge on Sabini. Pausing outside of the shop she leaned against the door. What a waste of a young life “Fuck Sabini.”

Inside Thomas’ Office, Birmingham

“Digbeth was killed in prison by Sabini’s men.” Tommy spoke up as soon as the door closed behind Nicole. Arthur jumped forward from where he had been leaning against the wall “We need to retaliate inside the prison Tommy!” “Arthur’s right, we need to show the men that we can keep them safe or else they’ll never want to work for us again.” The people in the room nodded “Need a group to go and get themselves arrested. Show them that we will not stand for our people being treated like this.” The family quickly voted their agreeance with the plan. Poor boy was just a kid.

Second item of business, “Polly I need your permission as company treasurer to spend a thousand guineas.” “A thousand? For what?” “A horse” He needed a good one to get into owner’s enclosure down at Sabini’s races. He had it all planned out, how he was going to make sure that the smug wop never set foot in Birmingham again. With him out of the way, he could follow his brothers’ advice and get with Nicole. Keep her safe. He could start right now, a trip out of the city would be a nice way to mend the distance he had created with is poorly chosen words. “I need someone to send word to Nicole that I’d like her to join us at the auction tomorrow.”

Horse Auction, Doncaster

Nicole had been waiting by the side of the auction building for nearly 20 minutes by the time the Shelby’s arrived. She crept towards the back of the truck, and waited until the first of them stepped out “What time do you call this then boys?” In her very best impersonation of Polly Gray. “Shit!” Shouted John, nearly jumping back into the truck out of fright. “You need bells. Maybe on a collar, so we can keep you leashed like a family dog.” He pet the top of her head with a smirk. “John!” came the warning but it was too late. She grabbed his hand twisting it behind his back and pulling up until she was just a twitch away from dislocating his shoulder. Leaning towards his ear “Careful. This dog bites.” “Tommy get her off.” Tommy just rolled his eyes, stepping down from the truck “You’re a grown man John, I can’t be cleaning up your messes eh?” nevertheless, Nicole let him go. Laughing when John playfully shoved her “Come on lads, or else you’re going to miss that horse you came here for.”

Nicole was stood between Tommy and Michael, leaning over the railing and watching the horses be paraded around the box. “Hear you go by Michael now.” “I hear you go by Nicole.” She smiled at him “Sorry for scaring you, at least you didn’t piss yourself.” The other men laughed. “I wasn’t afraid.” Michael protested; Arthur laughed louder “It’s alright lad I think we’d all be afraid if a woman like that suddenly showed up in our bedrooms.” “Except for Tommy course.” Added on John, causing both brothers to fall into another round of laughter. Tommy did not try to deny it. “Alright lads I think that’s our horse.” It was ridiculous, really, thought Nicole. The amount of money people are willing to spend. The bidding prices went up and up, Tommy seemed to have no limit. Nicole realised he truly did have more wealth than she thought he did, worlds apart huh? That amount of money would have her fed for life, ridiculous.

Thankfully, Tommy did end up outbidding his opponent. Congratulations to him for spending more money than someone else? Nicole really did not understand auctions, what was she meant to do? Nevertheless, it had come as a nice surprise that Tommy had asked her to come along. The change in scenery and the company of the rowdy Shelby brothers was a nice change of pace. Distracted her from how her mind was constantly working to figure out her next steps. They made their way down into the building and waited around whilst Tommy paid for his horse and had a conversation with the woman who had been his opponent during the auction. When business was all wrapped up they walked across the horse box to get back to their truck. She was side by side with Tommy, their hands brushing, a comfortable silence between them. When suddenly a man stood up pointing a gun directly at him, Arthur immediately jumped into action. But so did she and Tommy, Nicole’s first instinct was to pull him behind her and stop him from getting shot for the second time since their acquainting. Tommy, however had a similar instinct to shield her with his own body. Their colliding bodies resulted in both of them tumbling to the ground, with Tommy rolling himself on top of Nicole to cover her frame. Their eyes locked as their breaths mingled. Fuck that had been way too close, she could not bear the thought of losing him. Nina was right, better to have loved and lost than not loved at all. The noise of Arthur beating up the attacker faded away as Tommy moved his lips to hers.

Maybe time stopped when their lips met, but her feelings only intensified. Nicole’s heart pounded in her chest as her eyes closed. He was all she could focus on, that distinctive scent of whiskey cigarettes and Tommy invading her senses. For a moment Nicole wondered if she was dreaming this in some panic induced haze, but then one of his hands found its way to hold the side of her head. This kind of raw emotion was not something that she could dream up. Tommy half opened his eyes, just to make sure that what he was feeling was not a product of his imagination. To make sure that she was alright. Every breath he took was filled with her, the woman that he cared for more than he would usually allow himself to admit.

They pulled apart realising where they were and that the kiss truly was real. “Great timing, eh?” “Probably not the ideal location.” She softly laughed back. A whistle cut through the air that had gone silent at some point during their kiss. “Go on then Tommy!” John cheered. Tommy stood up, pulling Nicole along with him before dusting the sand off of her clothes and out of her hair. He wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her in close “Alright lads, lets go back home.” Then leaning down to whisper into her ear “Come see me tomorrow so we can have that talk.”

Midland Hotel, Birmingham

Nicole let herself into their room at the Midland hotel well after dark, she could see the shapes of her sleeping friends. Except one. The outline of Nej was sat against the wall in the corner of the room, smiling at her. “All good?” asked Nicole, dropping down onto the floor next to her friend. “All good. Saw the big man himself read your letter, so message definitely received. I have to ask though, what was in it?” she closed her eyes leaning her head back “Once I get a response I’ll explain everything.” Nicole wanted to make a difference, but to do that she needed connections. This would hopefully be one at the highest level.

♡ Whoo boy. Started writing it. Had a breakdown. Bon Appetit.

So many locations and time jumps to pack into this chapter, and at nearly 4,000 words this was a mammoth to tackle. Nevertheless my loves I hope you guys enjoy it...and especially the kiss.

I caved and could not stop their romantic relationship from progressing any longer. So i'm chalking it up to being a thank you for all the kind comments you beautiful people have been leaving me. There's no bigger motivation. Hope you beauties have a wonderful easter weekend. xx ♡

Tag list: @ysmmsy @captivatedbycillianmurphy @lovemissyhoneybee

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader

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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years ago

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Do you have any sort of, words of encouragement, for a Greek-American who is struggling to learn Greek? My family is pretty connected to our heritage but I was never taught to speak Greek. I am an adult now, and I know I'm at an incredible disadvantage trying to learn a new language. The most discouraging thing is when I try to pronounce a word with a sound that isn't really in English (like γ) and I KNOW I am not saying it right, but no matter how hard I try I can't pronounce it correctly.

Hello! I'm very sorry for delaying this answer for some days, but as we see here, Zeus was fucked this week 😅

I will pin my answer so you can see it when you return, and the rest will be under the cut.

I believe there are MANY reasons for hope in this situation. Of course it feels very discouraging that you don't know the language already and you might feel left behind in this process. Plus, learning a new language is not an easy thing to learn. But worry not!

You are grown, and that means you can learn a language better and with more consistency and discipline. Have trust in your skills as an adult. What is more, you have grown up around Greek speakers and you will pick up certain things faster.

You are not alone in feeling this way. Most of the world has to learn a second language (and a third, as it's usual for many) and that would be the language most dominant in the wider area. Almost every person in the West who is not an English speaker has to learn English and learn it well, otherwise we feel embarrassed every time we try and form a sentence. For example, we apologize to each other about our accents in English German and French, even though we speak Greek.

Surely there are some differences between your situation and ours, but I mentioned this to show you that most people will be very understanding with accents because they have the same struggle. I mean, I'm not going to make fun of someone for having an accent in Greek when I sound like a demented chicken in German, despite taking years of lessons 😵 I have more confidence in my English but even now that I'm writing to you in this language I have to quadruple-check my sentences and phrasing. The amount of times I apologized in advance for my accent to English speakers is higher than my credit.

I relayed your situation to other Greek speakers and non-English speakers, and ALL agreed the accent is not anything they would pay attention to and told me to write you that you shouldn't feel bad about that. I did that because I knew they would have words of encouragement for you. And it turns out they believe exactly what I'm writing in this answer.

Accents are natural. You cannot expect not to have an accent when you have been speaking a different language all your life. Beating yourself up for having difficulty with the Greek pronunciation is like beating yourself up for something normal like walking or laughing when hearing something funny. You lack practice with the pronunciation due to circumstances beyond your control. You are doing what you can to change that, and every small win is worth celebrating!

I found this post the other day:

The notes? The likes?

And NO disagreements in the comments and reblogs for OP’s statement! Look how many thousands are supportive in this! (And that’s a small fraction of people who understand accents are natural.) And some of the responses:

Sure, some mention they have met native speakers who made it more difficult to feel comfortable with their accent and phrasing. But those people are assholes in general, and not the people you want to surround yourself with. If a relative expresses disgust about your accent remind them you didn’t have any control of how much and how well you were taught Greek when you were a kid, and then tell them that if they are a true friend and relative to you, they should support you in your journey. And even if you had some control and chose not to learn, you are learning now. So they should leave their resentment behind because, honestly, what do they have to lose from you learning the language better??

For the embarrassment you feel for yourself: you wouldn't make fun of a Greek for having trouble with the “r”, "s", “ch”, and possibly the "h" when speaking English, so extend that kindness to yourself when you speak Greek. Not to mention that with enough practice and time you can nail the accent!

Worst case scenario, if the accent never leaves, that's no problem whatsoever. Anyone who thinks badly of you for your accent is probably a PoS and they don't deserve your time. No matter where you are from, if they make you feel bad for having an accent in Greek, block them from your mind forever.

But chances are that (from experience) if anyone laughs with how you said something, I guarantee they are not laughing at you but because of how strange the sound or phrasing was. The person doesn't think badly of you because of this. Making mistakes of any kind when learning a language is very natural and it's something everyone must accept. If you are not willing to make mistakes and expose your language vulnerabilities to people who know the language better, might as well not try improving at all.

If anyone corrects you, they are not doing it out of pity. The majority of Greeks do it because they are very happy you speak the language and want you to be even more fluent. Like, they are doing it as an act of backing you up, they are feeling like they are giving you that extra XP to reach the next level! Others - like me - get that rush of happiness when they get to share their language with others 😁

I remember a guy on Tiktok who was learning Greek and ordered a coffee "without sugar" in a Greek cafe but instead of saying σκέτο ("without") he said σκατά ("shit"). I mean damn that was funny! I remember it weeks after I saw the video of him telling that story and it always cracks me up. Do I still appreciate him the same as before and follow him? Absolutely! He just had an unfortunate - and funny - incident, not something that lessened his integrity as a person.

From tiktok again: An American girl wanted to pronounce γύρος correctly when ordering it, and she was mumbling to herself on camera: “yeero, yeero, yeero!!” When her time to order came she shouted “May I have a gairow? FUUUUCKK FUUCK FUCK I SAID IT WRONG” 🤣

Another example is Athena from the Bachelor 2! She has given some gems throughout the show because she doesn't know the language that well, but everyone still loves her because she spreads positivity and is so cute!! If we, as viewers, disliked her it would be because of her character, not because she doesn't know the language well. And if some of the other girls in the show don’t take her seriously is because she laughs too much and mentions feta too often, not due to her Greek level of literacy. Athena, even when she is hurting someone else’s feelings, is always so genuine and you just can’t be mad at her!

I really can’t stretch enough how people laugh at the mishap, not the person! Please don’t feel discouraged if you ever see a Greek laughing with the pronunciation of an English speaker when it comes to Greek words (which I have done as well) because we never laugh at the speakers. We don’t even know them! We might laugh at one mistake but then instantly want to become this individual’s friends because we think they are amazing (see the three examples I mentioned above, the sugar guy, the gyro girl and Athena). Because that’s the normal thing to do; laugh at fun stuff and not judge people for their small mishaps. (In a casual setting, and not to an uncomfortable degree ofc!)

There are so many things to a person other than their accent and the accent becomes old news really fast. What remains is how the presence of a person makes you feel and if they are a good individual. If an English speaking friend says yatakai instead of γατάκι that opens the way for sooo many jokes! Greeks will laugh, do some YATAKAAIIII screams - ninja style, and then continue being friends with that person!

Greeks makes these mistakes as well... A Greek once said "arrive arrive" (φτάνει φτάνει) instead of "enough" when an English speaker was filling his glass. A Lower English degree caught fire that day 🤣 I have many bad examples of Greeks’ mistakes in English but I can’t remember a lot. But I’ve seen many videos of Greeks mocking themselves for how they sound in English. You can take a look at Tsipras’ (our former prime minister) mistakes on youtube if you are feeling brave 😂 (Ο Τσίπρας μιλάει Αγγλικά)

So, own your possible mistakes, laugh at them and move on because everyone makes them and we better have some good while we are struggling!

(( For the record, we are not making fun of Tsipras because of his accent, but because 1) he doesn’t know γρι English and yet he rarely brought a translator with him in international meetings with world leaders, 2) he could absolutely not hold a conversation with negotiating or discussing 3) he didn’t take steps to improve or fix the situation (like bring a translator). 4) Instead, he chose to torment us all with mind-numbing hours of reading English texts and making other world leaders struggle to explain to him what they meant for the nth time and meetings move at a snail pace.))

Alright, now that I cringed with the memory of Tsipras speaking English, I’ll go though the recommendations for improving the Greek pronunciation.

1) Go to my resources for learning Greek (#learn greek) where I have many videos where you can hear the sounds individually or withing other words very clearly. Easy Greek on youtube has excellent videos about pronunciation!

2) Seek practice as much as possible. Some Greeks switch to English when they hear an English accent to make the conversation smoother for the other person. If Greek speakers insist on talking with you in English tell them that you would wish to speak in Greek. I've seen that people often mirror the accent of the native speaker when they speak to one, so this might work for you as well with hours of practice. If no Greek speakers are available to you now, you can find Greek Americans online – or go to their festivals – and start talking to them.

3) Listen to Greek podcasts, songs and shows. (In my blog you’ll find them at #greek youtuber #podcast #greek tv #greek movie #short film #greek music). You know when you hear a catchy foreign song and then it’s stuck in your head and you say all the words perfectly without even knowing what it means? Well, this helps with pronunciation!

4) If you had Spanish in school or have Spanish friends mimicking the Spanish accent might help you. (Our accents are extremely close! The Spanish are the best at Greek pronunciation, and vice versa!)

5) Find sounds in your native language that sound close to the sounds you want to say in Greek. In German lessons I had trouble with “ch” in certain words because I made it sound like χ and it was horrible. My Greek teacher told me to remember how χ sounds in χήνα (it sounds a bit flatter) and make that sound when I encountered “ch”. It worked actually!

To people who have English as their native language I often suggest they remember the sound of w for γ because, although not used the same in the word, at times they have the same intensity. Γ is pronounced more “to the front” of the mouth, so if you can bring that sound forward in your mouth you’ll be very close, if not accurate, to γ. (But don’t bring it too much forward, sometimes it can sound like a “y”, unless you are saying a word where γ sounds like “y”).

Greeks pronounce σ more closely to “sh” than to “s”, so you also might want to keep that in mind since σ often distinguishes the Greek accent in English for me :p

That’s all! If you have more questions or want to tell me anything else about your experience with learning Greek, feel free to send another ask or a DM!

#answered #learn greek #pronunciation #encouragement

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

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✦ • ° *. — Ｓａｅｒａｎ＇ｓ　Ａｆｔｅｒ　Ｅｎｄｉｎｇ — . * ° • ✦

chapter guide | chat with me | maybe a coffee?

summary: Saeran has finally found MC and is ectasic to finally be able to enjoy the good ending his tumultous life has reached. But with Saeyoung still missing and Mint Eye around, his happiness may have to wait a little more. Was love really capable to win against his inner demons or will he have to learn to fight for himself?

chapter warnings: [check chapter guide for story warnings] mentions and/or descriptions of mentions of past torture, domestic/parental abuse.

c h a p t e r t h r e e — si alguna vez te hice daño, lo aprendí de ti [ if i ever hurt you, i learnt it from you ]

The incessant ringing of her phone startled MC, waking her up. She looked over at the clock and saw it was 5:40 a.m. What could have happened? Immediately, she tried to look for Saeran on the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. She sat up agitated, but as she was getting off the bed, she remembered she had moved to the spare bedroom. Right. They were taking some time apart. It was impossible not to pout at the empty space on the bed.

It was all temporary, she reminded herself. This was just for his own good.

MC exhaled sadly and picked up the call.

“Morning, Jaehee. How are--”

“MC. It’s about the Prime Minister.”

Her whole body tensed at the mention of the man. No. Not again. She knew there was nothing she could do to protect her new family, but she would fight bare handed if it was needed. That man would never get close to Saeran or Saeyoung ever again.

“I thought he took Jumin’s offer. I thought he was staying silent,” MC whispered worriedly against your phone.

“MC, please let me speak,” Jaehee asked. She muttered an apology. “Right now they’re showing news coverage about him now on Channel 5, if you want to see. But I’m calling to let you know he’s dead.”

Jaehee heard MC gasp on the other side of the line.

“I think you are the most suitable person to let Saeyoung and Saeran know about this. Thank you for your cooperation and apologies for the early call. I wish I could stay and talk but… things are kind of hectic here.”

Of course. Jumin had orchestrated the plan to expose the Prime Minister for all the things he had done without mentioning the twins. It had been those news plus Jumin’s negotiation skills that had set Saeyoung free in the first place, but now that the Prime Minister was dead, Jumin was a murder suspect. MC made a mental note to call him later and hung up the phone.

Not even five seconds after throwing her phone on the bed, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it and found Saeran on the other side, the bags under his eyes making her heart clench in worry.

“You should see this,” he just said, before turning on his heel and walking to the living room. MC followed him and found Saeyoung, biting his nails. Saeran took a seat next to him and she imitated him, her eyes darting to the TV screen.

“The Prime Minister was found dead in his house last night. There are no signs of forced entry, so the police’s theory is that whoever killed him was someone from his inner circle. There are two bullet entries in his forehead, but the neighbours deny hearing any strange noise, so the perpetrator may have used a muffler. This makes us remember the event that happened two months ago, where corporate businessman Jumin Han, executive director of C&R and the son of the CEO of the same company. C&R used their resources under Mr. Han’s responsibility to expose the Prime Minister’s numerous infractions against the law. Right now, the police have arrived at C&R facilities and are about to conduct an investigation.”

You saw C&R’s entrance in the news, where a lot of reporters were surrounding Jaehee, who was trying to answer all their questions.

“Mr. Han will fully cooperate with the police and his innocence will be proven. There are no further comments from C&R, other than to express our apologies to the Prime Minister’s family for their loss,” Jaehee said, and then was helped out by the company’s security back in the building.

“Since the exposé of the Prime Minister’s felonies also included several other organisms and people, we can’t rule out an ex partner planning the attack. The Prime Minister’s funeral will be held tonight at 7 p.m. at--”

Saeyoung turned off the TV and let out a tired sigh. Saeran took the remote and turned it back on.

“They are not going to say anything else,” Saeyoung warned him.

“I want to know where the funeral is going to be,” he said, rewinding and trying to catch the full address. Both Saeyoung and MC furrowed their eyebrows, but he spoke first.

“Why?”

“Because I have to go,” he replied plainly.

Saeyoung exchanged a look with MC, urging her to talk.

“Saeran, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said softly, but Saeran didn’t look away from the TV.

“I want to see if he’s really dead.”

MC swallowed. She put a hand on Saeran’s knee trying to comfort him, and he jumped at the contact. Once he realized it was her, he calmed down and took his phone and put the address on the Maps app, trying to find out how far it was.

“Saeran, I can’t drive you,” Saeyoung reminded him, patting the cast on his leg. Saeran’s teal eyes looked at his brother’s cast and then back to his phone.

“I’ll call a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you,” you immediately offered. “I don’t… I still don’t think it’s a good idea. But if you want to, I’ll drive you.”

For the first time, Saeran looked back at you and showed you the smallest smile. He mouthed a thank you and you squeezed his knee.

“Fine,” Saeyoung sighed, standing from the sofa with a groan. “Then we’re all going. Family trip!” he joked, even if you could notice the strain in his smile.

“You don’t need to come,” Saeran said.

“I know. But I’m not letting you do this alone,” his brother shrugged, grabbing his crutches and heading to the kitchen.

-----

The grey clouds covered the sky, as if God himself was mourning the loss of the leader of the nation. Saeran wondered if someone was really sad about his death. He knew the Prime Minister had remarried, so maybe his close family could be sad. He couldn’t help but think if his father was ever cruel to his other family as well. For a lot of years he had blamed his father for his mother’s downfall, thinking that if he wasn’t so adamant in hiding his sons, then maybe his mother wouldn’t have been so cruel to him. Now, not only his crimes were abandoning them and then trying to cover up his ‘mistakes’, he had also kidnapped his brother and tortured him for his own benefit. Saeran took a look at MC, who was behind the wheel and then at Saeyoung, who was in the passenger’s seat since he needed more space for his leg cast.

He wondered if Saeyoung felt the same way he did.

The funeral was open to the public, so it was easy to go unnoticed. MC parked near the cemetery, showing her worried expression through the rearview mirror.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, fixing Saeyoung’s hoodie to cover his hair. Saeran hummed, but didn’t miss the way her eyebrows knitted together even further.

“I’m worried someone might recognize you two.”

“Don’t worry, MC. We won’t get too close,” Saeyoung reassured her. Saeran got out of the car and handed the crutches to his brother. In a few minutes, MC saw them get away and enter the cemetery together.

As promised, they didn’t join the crowd. Saeran watched as a middle aged woman and three teenagers approached the casket, tears in their eyes as they said their final goodbyes. He wondered if they had covered enough the bullet wound on his head the news reporter talked about. They had probably done that, he told himself, even if there was a part of him that was itching to go there and remove the bandage himself. He saw the woman put her arm around her three children and comforting them, her fingers stroking the smallest one’s hair as he cried.

Saeran’s own hand went to put a strand of his hair behind her ear, memories of all those nights MC would stay up with him after a nightmare, his head on her chest as she played with his hair until he fell asleep again. He missed her. He saw he everyday and everyday she would try to talk with him but he always avoided her. He hated himself for it. And, in the same wavelength, he also hated her a little. She had told him over and over they would get back together again, but who could assure him that would be the case? She could easily staart noticing how easier her life was without being in a relationship wih him. And she would be right. Why did he ever think he deserved her?

Saeran’s head started hurting.

He winced and looked again at the funeral. As they were lowering the casket under the ground, he heard a long sigh from his twin.

“He’s dead,” Saeyoung said. Saeran didn’t look back, his eyes fixed on the casket as it disappeared. “He’s finally gone.”

“He ruined our life. He ruined mom’s life,” Saeran murmured. Saeyoung turned his head to his twin, taken aback.

“She ruined our life, Saeran. She was the one who wouldn’t buy us food or would lock you up. You remember, right?” he asked.

“I do. She did all of that because he broke her. Maybe if he didn’t, she would--”

“But she didn’t,” Saeyoung reminded him. “She wouldn’t let us go to school. She wouldn’t let you go outside the house, she didn’t care if we were eating or not.”

“But she didn’t leave!” Saeran snarled at him. His twin walked with the help of his crutches in front of him, blocking his view to the funeral.

“Saeran. I know I shouldn’t have left you. I know-- I already explained all this. But you don’t have to pretend. Not with me. I know what she did. I was there with you, I know what she was capable of doing--”

“She stayed with me. If I didn’t have her, I don’t know what--”

“She chained your ankle so you couldn’t walk away!” Saeyoung screamed, shaking Saeran’s shoulder with one hand. “You were sick, you were hungry and tied to a table!” he insisted, while tears started falling. Saeran looked back at him, his lips a thin line as he watched his twin lose it. “You don’t know how many times I wished he found me,” he said, pointing at the funeral. “So I could finally end the nightmare. But I was so afraid to leave you with her, I didn’t want to leave you, I--” he choked and bit his lip, wiping the tears from his face. “I thought V and Rika would take care of you. They promised, they told me they would.”

“I know,” Saeran muttered.

“You don’t,” Saeyoung sniffled. “I’m never going to forgive myself for trusting them. I should have known better. So don’t talk like that woman didn’t make our childhood a nightmare. She stayed with you, with us, but… at what cost?” he asked, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t lie and say you don’t get nightmares about her. Because I do.”

Saeran bit his tongue, watching his brother’s golden eyes glisten as the sun set behind him. Had Saeyoung somehow noticed his nightmares? No. He hadn’t had night terrors since Saeyoung returned from the hospital, only the occasional nightmare that would jolt him awake. And that made no sound.

“Who do you think you’re fooling when you go to the kitchen to drink water at 3 am?” Saeyoung asked with a small shrug. “I won’t tell her,” he assured his brother, his eyes darting to the cemetery’s parking lot. “But you need to understand this, Saeran. Sure, our father abandoned us. And he broke my leg. But mom was… not a mother. Or at least I don’t want to think of her as one.”

He turned his back again and looked at the funeral. The casket was underground, and a priest was talking to the attendees. Saeran never knew he was religious. The only idea of religion now brought a sour taste to his mouth, which he tried to ignore as he watched the Prime Minister’s youngest son crawl on her mother’s lap and resting his head on her shoulder.

“Orphan fist bump?” Saeyoung offered, with a sad smile. Saeran huffed, but under his brother’s hopeful gaze, he offered his fist and he rolled his eyes.

previous chapter | next chapter

#mystic messenger #mysme #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #saeran after ending #saeran x mc #saeran choi x mc #mysme saeran #mm saeran

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pergaias · 4 years ago

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jupiter’s chosen ; a short story

a lot of people forget that i’m a writer before i’m a shitposter ( me included )

this was written in thirty to forty-five minutes based off of a paraphrased quote from ninth house by leigh bardugo, so it’s kinda short kinda boring, but the end is a whirl -

also this is kinda like a villain’s backstory and i’m here for it lmao

Della couldn’t feel it anymore.

The little strings that had connected her to the world of magic had snapped, broken, worn away, one by one. The wet denim of her jeans were rough and abrasive, clinging and cold. Her cheeks wet with tears, her lips salty with them.

The one thing she had been good at, the one thing that made her special, gone. And it was her fault - her misstep, her shadow, her mistake that had brought it here in the first place.

Her breathing was shakier than quaking aspens, her chest heaving in shallow pants like an animal’s. Her eyes were probably red-rimmed and swollen as the gaping wound in her side.

The sword. It had taken everything away - some poison in the blade that had eaten away at her magic, cut the invisible strings tying her to her other life. The gash in her side was long and deep, her arms held shakily over the wound, as if the gesture, the act of it, would hold her together.

But still, Della lay curled on the park bench in the pouring rain, her tears indistinguishable from the downpour, her once-white cardigan wet through with blood. If she still had her magic, if she still had Ty, she might have been able to heal the gash.

Ty. Her best friend, her confidante, in another lifetime her boyfriend. Was it really a few hours ago that he had abandoned her? Addie, Addie, I’m sorry. We’re not children anymore.

Della cried harder. It was dark out - she could hardly see the stars, and all she could feel was the coldness of her wet sweater and jeans, pressing on her skin. The fire of the sword wound was gone, as was her magic. She had felt the magic - it was a hum in her fingers, a song in her head, a forgotten whisper on her lips.

It was like she was missing a limb.

Addie, Addie, I’m sorry. We’re not children anymore.

When had Della stopped being a child? Was it the moment when she had started thinking about what parts of her body jiggled and how she looked? Was it the moment she discovered her first period, or the day she had to first fend for herself? Was it the day that she had kissed Ty?

Was it when she became Adelaide Lovis, Jupiter’s Chosen?

No. She had ceased to be a child years before all those occasions, on the day that she had realized what a horrible world she lived in. Demons on the streets, wreaking small havocs on people who couldn’t see them. Imps curled up on her mother’s shoulder, whispering poison into her ears. The day she had seen the shadow behind the Prime Minister on TV and screamed, because it had beady, bright eyes. The ghosts in her apartment building, opening doors for her because they saw she was Chosen.

The shadows of other people, given flesh and blood. Della had foolishly thought she was above it.

The irony of it was that Della Lovis was supposed to fix it. The Chosen One, who was to rid the world of evil. She would set things right, they said, she would fix all their past mistakes. She would banish all the shadows past the Otherlands, hold her sword high with auburn hair streaming behind her and tawny wings unfolded.

Della’s eyes burned, and she held her side tighter as a cab whizzed past her seat, splashing her with muddy, oily water. She barely felt it - her skin burned with a fever that the blade had given her, the fever that had driven the magic out of her.

She couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. There was no knight in shining armor to save her, white-gold wings bursting from his shoulder blades, dark hair curling across his forehead. She lay curled on the park bench, rain pummeling her, her side throbbing, burning with unseen fire.

Had Ty ever loved her? She remembered it in paralyzing clarity, his hand wrapped around hers, lashes long and thick and lowered. If she could paint, she would have painted him in white and gold and chocolate brown, an avenging angel.

Love is a shared delusion, Addie, he had teased, when her head had been curled in his side, fingers tangled with his. Two people reciting the same spell.

Della wanted to close her eyes, to let this terrible world fade, a world that had taken from her and never gave. Everyone she loved was gone - her mother, with her red-gold hair and sad smile, her father with his crooked nose and expressive hands. Ty, with his gold wings and long lashes.

Jupiter’s Chosen. She had been thirteen when they told her, when she had first held a Stone and seen beyond the world she lived in.

Strings, Della had breathed. Strings, tying everything together, tying everything to me. She had reached out to touch one - it had made a note like a guitar, leaving her fingers covered in humming, glowing dust.

They had all been cut. There was nothing holding Della to this world anymore but stubbornness, sheer force of will, and the overwhelming urge to punch Ty in the face.

Rain clung to Della’s lashes like fat pearls, and the throbbing of the gash on her side seemed to slow. The world seemed to slow, the colors coming into sharper focus, like it did every morning when the sun’s rays hit the horizon.

The rain was warm and soft, like a warm summer shower. The gash on her side seemed to glow, light filtering through her fingers.

Her heart was slowing, too, she could feel it. Della’s thoughts flashed to the sword fight, Adelaide Lovis all bluster and auburn curls, gray eyes and stubborn chins. She had hefted her own sword, and the black-winged creature lifted hers, and they clanged together.

My shadow, Della had realized, halfway through the fight. The girl she was fighting was her but not her, everything Della was but with less to lose.

Every action has an equal opposite reaction, and this was the accumulation of all Della’s failures, every negative thought, every fear, each tear she shed. Was it fear of success or fear of failure that had held Della back?

But her eyelids were so heavy, and the Beyond was welcoming her.

No. The thought burned through her, stronger than any warmth the Beyond could offer. I am Jupiter’s Chosen, and I will go down fighting.

Della painstakingly lifted her head, feeling dizzy as soon as she did. Rain darkened her hair, weighed her cardigan down - her movements were sluggish and anything but graceful, but she shakingly stripped it off and pressed it to her side, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

She had no magic. She would never be welcome in the Otherlands after her failure.

One step. Another. Her shoulder blades felt terrifyingly light without the wings, the wings that had slowly dissipated when her shadow had sunk the golden blade into her side. Della’s scream, ringing through the arena. Ty in the audience, his eyes turned away.

They had left her to die, and Della Lovis was going to live if only to rub it in their faces.

She wasn’t a child anymore. She wasn’t Chosen. She wasn’t loved, wanted, waited for by the people she had failed to protect.

But she staggered across the street, cardigan held against her side, freckled arms shaking. She would live. She had to.

Della couldn’t feel the magic anymore. She couldn’t feel her fingers or the pain in her side.

She only felt the slow press of tears choking her throat.

There would be no happy ending for Adelaide Lovis, once Jupiter’s Chosen, but she sure as hell would make it a memorable one.

#cece writes #here's my original bullshit :DD #jupiter's chosen #why did i write this #what is this #why tho #short story #original #writing #rAnDoM tAgs

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hisunshiine · 4 years ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 - Part 2

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 ထ written by @sunkissedwriter / m. a. tw.

↳ au based off of The King: Eternal Monarch | Cross posted to her AO3

The Kingdom of Corea

Hoseok’s hand snapped out at the same time as Jeongguk’s, startling the new attendant who was trying to fasten the last button on his shirt. Wide eyes glancing back and forth between the King and his guard at the sudden grip on his wrist.

Hoseok smiled, “I prefer to button this one myself.” He released the attendants wrist, fixing the collar of his shirt in the mirror.

Jeongguk narrowed his eyes at the attendant, “Are you new?”

The young man stuttered, “Y-yes, Captain Jeon.”

“His Majesty does not like others touching his body. Now that you do know, the first is a mistake, the second is intentional. Keep that in mind.” Jeongguk snapped at him, watching as the King’s lips twitched into a smirk.

The attendant bowed, “Of course, sir. My apologies, Your Majesty.”

Hoseok straightened his riding outfit, winking at the attendant as he strode out of the room, Jeon following close behind.

“His Majesty is on the move and heading to the stables, prepare for the arrival of the VIP and clear the stables,” Jeon muttered into his wrist, keeping his eyes trained on the King.

Hoseok stopped in his tracks, “Actually I think I’ll stop by my room first. I think I forgot something.” He cast Jeon a glance, “Unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t be going to my room, Jeonggukah?”

Jeongguk kept his face blank, “Of course not, Your Majesty. But we do have a schedule to keep, and it seems that Prime Minister Park has arrived early.”

Hoseok arched a brow before heading to his room, tilting his head at the sight of his Head of Court bustling around the room with an apprentice handing him talismans. He sat down quietly, watching as Jin tucked the tiny red envelopes into various hiding spots around his room, never once noticing the King was present. Jin’s apprentice took notice of Hoseok, her eyes widening in fear as she bowed apologetically. Hoseok pressed a finger to her lips, a silent order to not alert Jin of his presence. He wanted Jin to notice him on his own time and give the nosy Court Head a much needed scare.

“And the last one should always, always be placed right under his pillow. These are replaced every month, in the same order, or else they won’t work! I paid the shaman extra for these, he swore up and down that these were more powerful than the last ones. ‘I swear to you Lord Seokjin, the King shall find his love by the end of the month with this batch.’ I think he’s just hoping I don’t throw them in his face like I did last time...Mijinah?” Jin glanced over his shoulder, “Minjinnie, why aren’t you-“ Jin turned fully, greeted by the King’s questioning expression. “Ah! My King! You almost gave me a heart attack...what are you doing here? I heard Prime Minister Park is early and waiting for you…”

Hoseok started thumbing through the talismans he had pulled out already. “You know, it’s money well spent on these. They have such a powerful pull...it must be why Prime Minister Park arrives earlier and earlier for every meeting,” he flicked his eyes up to Jin, “Maybe he should be my successor. Or better yet, his sister could be my Queen, hmm?”

Jin’s eyes widened, “No not that bitch!” He tightened his jaw, “I mean...there are so many options for an eligible bachelor like you. Why not pick someone more...suited for the position, Your Majesty.”

Hoseok stood, closing the gap between himself and his Court Head with a few quick steps, “Seokjinnie, if I catch you hiding this again, I’ll have you beheaded.” His tone was light and teasing as he opened the trash can at his feet and let the talismans drop, watching Seokjin’s eyes follow the red paper with a look of disdain.

Jin kept his head bowed but chuckled, “He’s kidding Mijinah. If I haven’t been threatened at least once during the day, I’m not fulfilling my duties properly.”

Hoseok raised a brow, “Beheaded, Seokjinnie.” He turned on his heel and exited the room, “Don’t tempt your King!”

Jin called out to the King as he left, “I wouldn’t dare dream of it, Your Majesty!”

Jeongguk was already on his horse when the King entered the stables. He quickly mounted and ushered his trusted horse, Mang, out onto a path. Jeongguk by his side and the rest of his guards trailing behind.

Hoseok leaned forward, patting Mang’s neck, “What do you say we give them a chase, Mangie?”

His horse’s ears flicked, suddenly taking off on a full blown sprint down the path. Hoseok’s laugh rang through the bamboo forest, the colors blurring together as he and his horse became one, flying through the wind.

A soft whistling played through the forest, catching his attention. Mang heard it as well, slowing to a trot, both horse and rider stopping in a clearing as the whistle faded.

Jeongguk came into the clearing, noticing the King’s alert stance. “Your Majesty?” He turned to the others, “Perimeter check B team, A Team, move forward-“

“Yah Jeonggukah, I thought I heard something, it was just a trick of the wind.” Hoseok tapped his heels, Mang huffing but moving forward nonetheless. His ears flicking in annoyance at his rider.

“My King, are you sure? If you don’t-”

“Kookah, it’s fine,” the soft tapping of hooves filled the air around them, attempting to replace the tension, “Besides. It was probably Jimin trying to catch my attention again. I found Jin hiding love talismans in my room again. 51 of them.”

“Only 51?”

Hoseok pulled Mang to a stop, “What do you mean only?”

His guard continued along the path back to the stables, his horse flicking his tail to show his rider’s amusement. “Nothing.”

Mang ran forward, cutting off Jeongguk and his horse, “I will behead you.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice, especially in front of your Prime Minister, Your Majesty.” Jeongguk smirked as he dismounted, leading his horse around Mang.

Hoseok sighed as he dismounted, leading Mang towards the grazing fields. He patted the horses neck, noticing Park Jimin and a crowd of paparazzi approaching them. “Be nice Mang. No biting.”

“Good Morning, Your Majesty,” Jimin bowed his head, flashing him a smile as he continued, “I know I’m early but the weather was so nice. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen Mang. Hi Mangah!”

Mang turned his head, deliberately looking away from Jimin. “Ah well, if you could smile, Your Majesty. They’re filming us back there. The Royal Public Affairs office thought a picture of the two of us out here would lift the Kingdom’s spirits.”

Hoseok smiled, “Well stand by me so they can see us properly. And I didn’t realize the Kingdom was unhappy.”

Jimin beamed, “That’s why I’m here, the people are worried about who will succeed the throne. Your father announced his marriage at your age, its time to announce yours.”

“Mm, and the rest of the state affairs.” Hoseok replied.

His smile faltered, “The country is peaceful, forigen relationships are stronger than ever, and the people are excited for the rowing competition. Things are...wonderful right now, Your Majesty.”

“And that is all thanks to you, Prime Minister Park.” Hoseok continued to pat Mang’s neck, looking out to where the photographers snapped photos.

Jimin cleared his throat, “You know. I’ve been wanting to take riding lessons. That way our meetings could perhaps be more fun, do you have any advice, Your Majesty?”

“The one thing I heard when I started riding was this; ‘If you train honestly every time, then your horse will take you to the edge of the world’,” he turned his attention to Jimin, “So tell me, Prime Minister, are you honest?”

“One has to be in order to reach this level in office, my King. Some of us are not born into this blessing.” Jimin tilted his head as he answered, quirking a brow as he studied the King.

Hoseok took the reins, clicking his tongue once to signal Mang, “Let us hope the people believe in that lie as much as you do, Prime Minister. You have one year left in your term, I suggest you make the best of it to win the rest of the cabinet. I can tell you they are not fond of a fisherman's son standing by the King’s side. I would hate to see you waste it on riding lessons.”

“I can assure you, Your Majesty. It wouldn’t be time wasted. Besides, the ones with the most life experience make the better leaders...wouldn’t you say so Your Majesty?”

Hoseok tilted his head, the answer primed on his tongue when Jimin’s assistant; Taehyung strode forward. “Prime Minister, the time. We must be going.”

“Ah yes, right. My apologies, my King. My sister is in town and I promised to have lunch with her. Why don’t you join us? She would love to see you again.”

“Unfortunately I have a prior commitment, please give her my apologies. Thank you for your report, Prime Minister.”

He left the Prime Minister seething silently with his assistant, the clicking of the camera shutters fading away with each step. A smirk taking over his features as he patted Mang’s side.

The sun beat down hard on his skin, his muscles ached and screamed at the repetitive motion, pushing and pulling the oar against the waves. “Long strides! Keep it firm!” The canoe continued to glide down the river, the other canoe’s around them keeping pace, “Naval Academy!”

The men behind him chanted, “88th class! 88th class!” The canoe began to glide faster, pulling ahead from the pack. Hoseok’s heart swelled with pride at his men, driving him to pour all his strength into each stroke. He could hear the roar of the crowd as they crossed the finish line, he raised his fist in victory laughing and cheering along with the rest. Jeongguk met him at the dock, resuming his place as his shadow and escorting him to the winner’s circle.

Hoseok was celebrating with his team, holding up the trophy for the crowd to see when a figure caught his eye. A woman pulling up her hood, rabbit ears that were attached to the hood falling forward as she hid her face, glancing over shoulder and moving cautiously through the crowd. Tilting his head in confusion, his brow furrowed at the sight of her bolting when she reached the edge, his fixation broken by a sudden gunshot ringing through the air. Jeongguk pulled him down to the ground, shielding him from the threat while barking orders to his team.

Jeongguk let him up, turning to assess the situation. Hoseok took that chance and sprinted from the stage, his bare feet hardly hitting the pavement as he flew around the corner. His heart pounded in his chest, but not from sprinting, it pounded at the chase of his prey. The familiar face that had lurked his mind and his dreams since he was child had suddenly appeared before him after years of searching, and he would be damned if he was going to let it slip through his fingers. The faint pounding of boots alerted him of Jeongguk chasing after him, however Hoseok paid him no mind. He turned another corner, fixated on his target in front of him, reaching his hand out and taking a fist full of the material, yanking the figure to a stop.

“Oh! Your Majesty,” a young man bowed his head, “I’m sorry did I do something wrong?”

Hoseok blinked twice, immediately releasing the startled man, “No.” He took a step back, glancing down the road, hearing the disgruntled panting from Jeongguk as he reached them, “Where did you get this jacket?”

“Ah this? I’m not sure, it’s my class jacket, our mascot is the Black Hare.” The young man answered, “Congratulations on the win, Your Majesty...can I go? I need to meet up with my class.”

Hoseok nodded, giving him a tight smile, waiting until he was farther down the sidewalk before letting out a sigh. He had been so close...how did he lose her?

“Your Majesty...you have incredible stamina, rowing 2,000 meters and then running like that?” Jeongguk took a breath, “Why did you chase him? Is he a threat?”

“I thought I was chasing the White Rabbit with the clock.” Hoseok trailed off, eyes still scanning the bustling streets.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you saw a rabbit or a clock?”

Hoseok huffed, facing his guard with a glare, “Were you not listening when I read to the children earlier? Alice in Wonderland?”

“I was busy prioritizing your safety, Your Majesty.” Jeongguk’s lips twitched, threatening a grin.

“You really need to learn how to listen to your King, you know that? You need obedience in your life.” Hoseok griped, crossing his arms.

Jeongguk placed shoes in front of Hoseok, “And I think you need shoes, Your Majesty.”

Hoseok kicked them out of the way, starting back towards the award stage, “Those aren’t my shoes, Jeongguk. You should know better.”

Hoseok hopped back up onto the stage, smiling and holding his hand up to quiet the crowd. He gave a short explanation, calming the spooked hearts of his people and urged them to continue celebrating with no fear, as the culprits were caught. The tension in the crowd eased at his words and the fanfare began again. They expected him to join them, multiple faces coming up to see him, offering words of congratulations.

None, however, where the face he wanted to see.

He strode into his study, ruffling his still damp hair and sighing at the sight of Jeongguk.

“You need to wear this when we’re in public,” he held up a kevlar vest.

“No.” He sat down at his desk, “It doesn’t look comfortable.”

“It’s not about being comfortable it’s about being safe.”

Hoseok’s eyes flicked up to his guard, “You’re going to protect me anyway. Why waste comfort if you’re just going to save me.” He hummed, intertwining his fingers as he rested his chin on his fists, “Would it make you feel better if I wore it?”

Jeongguk leveled him with a glare, “Obviously.”

“Then wear two, that way you’re wearing one for me.”

Jeongguk let out a deep sigh, “In other news; the men who caused a scene at the awards ceremony will all be questioned in the morning. And for your White Rabbit with the clock, I have a team looking for it. Once we track it down, we can figure out if it was a rabbit or a clock.” His guard tilted his head at the end of his report, round eyes sparkling with mischevity.

Hoseok stood, moving around the desk until he was toe to toe with his guard. His stoic guard, ‘The Unbreakable Sword’, stood his ground, merely blinking at the King’s action. Hoseok leaned forward, practically nose to nose with Jeongguk and forcing him to lean back in shock.

“Are you having fun, teasing your King, Jeonggukah?” Hoseok chuckled at the widened eyes of his guard, “For an Unbreakable Sword, you bend so easily.”

He rolled his eyes at the King, straightening himself, “Why did you want to catch the culprit yourself? Do you want the Brave Citizen Award?”

Hoseok opened one of the large glass cabinets, removing a wooden box with his sigil etched on the top. “Why should I be the one to catch the culprit? You should be catching the culprit as Captain of the Royal Guard, Unbreakable Sword.” He ran his thumb over the lid, letting out a sigh, “I’m not trying to catch anyone...I’m simply trying to find the face only I can recognize.”

“Hoseok hyung...was it her that you saw? The girl in that photo?” Jeongguk dropped the formalities, stepping closer and examining the saddened King.

He nodded, “She saved me all those years ago, Jeonggukie...but why hasn’t she come forward? Why save me and then never look for me?” Tears threatened to roll down his cheeks, a forced laugh came from him, “Don’t I deserve love?”

“Hyung...your people love you...I love you. There are others out there that love you...it’s been twenty five years...don’t you think it’s been long enough to let her go?” The guard questioned, changing his tone at the fall of the King’s shoulders, “You don’t need a savior anymore, hyung.”

Hoseok took a shaky breath, half smiling, “So you do love me?”

“Of course I love you hyung...that’s why I want you to wear this vest.” Jeongguk held up the vest again, blinking expectantly at the King.

Hoseok full on smiled, patting the younger’s shoulders, “You can go now, Jeonggukah. And take that vest with you.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but bowed, bidding the King goodnight and leaving the vest on the couch in his study. Hoseok flicked it off as he passed it, settling down at his desk and opening the box. An old, worn copy of Alice in Wonderland sat against the pale wood. The cover of the White Rabbit running, seemed to be taunting him more than ever.

He ran his fingers along the cover, sliding down until he reached slight space between the pages. The thin ID card weighed heavy in his hand, “Where are you, Lieutenant...why did you save me then...and not see me now?”

The soft smile of the woman in the picture made his heart ache, “What secret do you hold, Lieutenant? What secret do you not trust me with…a King can be trusted with anything...I would protect you...you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

He sighed and placed the card on the book, “Ah Hoseok, if she heard you now she definitely wouldn’t want you. A King talking to a photo from the future.”

A soft tune suddenly started in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. The same tune he heard all those years ago.

Your path awaits you.

His eyes locked on the riding crop, his body moved without his knowing, fingers wrapping around the grip and driving him to flee the palace. He startled the guard at the stable, moving past him to where Mang stayed, his horse equally agitated and kicking the door of his stall.

“Your Majesty. I’m sorry I wasn’t told you would be out here...not this late.” The young guard looked flustered, moving to help him saddle Mang.

“Because I didn’t tell anyone,” He swung his leg over, taking the reins and holding Mang from bolting to the stable doors, “Tell Captain Jeon that I will return when I catch the White Rabbit.”

The guard jumped out of the way as Mang reared back, slamming his hooves down and snorting as he galloped out to the bamboo forest. It was as if his and Mang’s mind were one, both hearing the lifting tune, grow louder and louder with every pounding step. He pulled Mang to a stop as they reached a large stone gate, the tune consuming every inch of his being. Mang reared again, neighing and surging forward through the gate.

Hoseok blinked, the tune long gone from his ears, replaced with the clacking of Mang’s hooves on pavement. The bamboo forest looked similar to the one they had just left, save for the paved path he found himself on. He followed the path out of the forest, examining the strange flag that waved on the pole. The flag no longer held his sigil, instead it was a circle made of a red and blue half. Pedestrians on the street stopped and stared, pointing at him and taking pictures as he lead Mang out onto the street.

“Hey!”

He ignored the voice, continuing forward to the plaza where the statue of his grandfather stood.

“Sir!?”

The billboard on the building flashed and showed a woman, “Our Beloved Queen Yuna”.

This parallel universe has a Queen.

“Hey horse rider! I’m talking to you!”

Hoseok finally turned his head to locate the owner of the voice, only to be met with the face of the woman whose ID card he held his entire life.

“It’s you.” He whispered, taking in your full appearance. The way your cheeks flushed with the sudden gust of wind, whipping your hair around you. His breath caught in his lungs, the camera did not do you justice.

“Why are you looking at me like that...ah.” You blinked before fishing your pockets for your ID card, holding it up, “I’m a police officer.” She slipped it around her neck, “You violated...several traffic laws….I think? It doesn’t matter, just..get down here!”

Hoseok dismounted, striding quickly over to you. His fingers wrapped around the ID card, holding it up so he could examine it, nearly identical to the ID card he had at the palace. “Do you know how long I have been looking for you? You have been in my thoughts for a very long time, Lieutenant.”

You smacked his hand away, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Why would you be looking for me? How do you even know me?”

Hoseok’s hand cupped your cheek, his heart shaped lips forming a radiant smile, “I’ve known you for twenty five years, Lieutenant. Your picture does not do your beauty justice.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his chest. For the first time in years , Hoseok finally felt complete. He had caught the White Rabbit, he had found the woman who filled his dreams, and now he was holding her in his embrace.

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, breathing in the freshness of your scent. It was a surreal experience for the King, to have followed the sound and now have you in his arms. He held tightly onto you, not noticing how stiff you were against him.

A shove sent him stumbling back, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Hoseok blinked at your strength, “Did you just shove a king?”

“Did you just hug a police officer?!” You pulled your hair up, tying it away from your face, “Enough, sir, I need to see your ID.”

He tilted his head, “You seemed softer in your photo...but you’re so full of fire...full of life. Have you always been this way? Or is there a softer side to you?”

Your eyebrow twitched, “Unfortunately I have been this way since the day I was born. Your ID card, sir.”

Hoseok smiled, taking a step closer to you, “You’re perfect...as for an ID card, I can’t show it to you.”

You scoffed, “And why is that?”

“I don’t have one. The King of Corea doesn’t need one. Everyone knows who I am.” Hoseok straightened his shoulders, standing tall and proud in front of you.

“Well here in the Republic of Korea , you need an ID card and you show it when an officer asks you for it.” You shook your head, “Enough, that’s it. You violated traffic laws, you touched a police officer, and you refuse to cooperate. You have the right to remain silent-”

“Are you arresting me? I’m a King, Lieutenant, I can’t be arrested.” Hoseok chuckled, losing his balance as you whirled him around and spread his legs.

The sound of the handcuffs clicking into place made Hoseok freeze, “Looks like you can be arrested.”

↣ please do not repost work. images, netflix posters, and synopsis screens were made by @hisunshiine please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.

↣ all stories are posted with the authors permission, and each story provides a link to the author and to their original content. due to some of them not having tumblr, they have asked me, the creator of the event, to post their stories.

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filthysweetie · 5 years ago

Note

If you are still taking prompt ❤ Hartwin no.13 "are you flirting with me?", "you finally noticed?"

I am forever and always taking prompts! You actually are the first person to request one, so i guess that means technically i’m taking prompts ‘now’? Thank you so much for requesting this, it was so fun to write.

For anyone keeping track, this is day 18 of my self challenge :)

———

Harry opened his eyes the slightest bit. After years of this sort of thing, he knows to be cautious when coming back to consciousness—never quite sure what side might have picked you up when you were out. Even if you feel asleep in your own bed.

But Harry hadn’t fallen asleep in his own bed, he’d fallen asleep across the world in a hospital barely fit for the people in it, hooked up to IVs and floating on drug induced clouds. And then he’d woken to patients and doctors alike fighting and killing and if he’d had the energy he would have jumped into the fray too—he’d gotten so far as falling out of his bed, pulling IVs and causing alarms to go off all around before the air cleared and Harry could breath as himself again. He never wants to lose control like that again—knowing it can be taken from him is…

He’s not waking up in that ramshackle hospital, though it certainly still smells like a hospital. There’s a softer cream to the walls than Kentucky, and more than that there’s a boy—his boy—jumping up from his chair.

“Harry!” Eggsy is wound so tight but trying so hard to restrain himself, Harry can see it in the flush of his cheeks and the way he keeps unconsciously leaning closer only to yank himself back, “you’re awake…” he sighs, almost to himself before continuing, “Don’t ever do that again. I’m going to get the nurse.”

He’s gone before Harry can even wet his lips. He’s at Kingsman. He’s home.

Eggsy comes back with Darleen, who quickly goes to work checking his vitals before asking Harry the mundane questions of his name, rank and number, who the prime minister is and what he remembers. Eggsy hovers behind her, a tangible bout of energy that Harry keeps finding his eyes drawn too. Goodness, Eggsy looks more worried than he had when he was in jail. God, doesn’t that feel like years ago.

“…alright,” Harry gets out after the formalities and about four glasses of water, “I think that’s enough of that. Clearly I’m still breathing.”

Darleen gives a very unimpressed look, “And I would like to keep you that way.” She turns to Eggsy, pointing a finger accusingly, “Nothing strenuous.”

Eggsy gives a sheepish grin and watches her walk from the room. Harry supposes she is beautiful, but it surely the boy can do better than her. Not that there’s anything wrong with Darleen, she’s a fantastic nurse, it’s just that she has a stronger hand than what Eggsy needs and besides—she may be in a relationship. It would never work; he should just stop now before he gets hurt. (Who is he talking to again?)

Eggsy turns to him once Darleen is around the corner, taking a rushed step closer and grabbing the hand that isn’t stuck with needles, folding it into his own.

“Hey.” He grins like an unrestrained child.

“I’m glad you’re here, Eggsy.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy asks, leaning closer still, propping his elbows on the bed in atrocious manners but he’ll let it go this time.

And then, because Harry is hopped up on pain killers and really a quite insensitive man at heart, instead of saying ‘so sorry for what I said to you in anger, that is no excuse and I apologize and respect your decision not to forgive me’ his mind takes in that Eggsy is here and that he is in Kingsman’s medical ward and says:

“I didn’t think they’d let you back in here.”

Eggsy pauses, face losing some of that shine, and Harry would berate himself if he could think straight. He leans away, just a bit and Harry frowns at the loss.

“Well, lot has changed since you’ve been gone, bruv.” Eggsy clears his throat, “why don’t you sleep some? I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Tired?” Harry gives a little laugh, “I’ve been unconscious for who…knows ho…w long I’m …not…”———Eggsy is there when he wakes up—in clothes much different than his usual. It looks almost like…

“Is that the suit I gave you?” Harry scrunches up his face, “was going to give you.” He amends.

Eggsy almost startles, looking up from whatever was in the file he was looking at and grins at Harry, “Sure is! Works like a charm and everything,” Eggsy runs his hand down his lapel and Harry can’t be blamed for following it’s trajectory.

“But the tie.” Harry can’t help but notice it’s different than the stripped navy one he chose.

“Yeah,” Eggsy looks down at the time he has, a charcoal grey, that while nice, doesn’t give the look as much movement as the other would have, “it got a little roughed up.” Eggsy shrugs, looking away before turning back and giving a cheeky grin, “But you’re here, so you can always give me another one.”

“Well I suppose I must.”

“Good.” Eggsy cheeks look pink—the hospital is obviously too hot for a suit. ———By the time he’s out of the hospital wing, he never wants to see the damn place again. Eggsy was very kind to visit as often as he did, and bring Harry trinkets and more kindly, good discussion. He’d learned soon enough that in his absence Eggsy, Roxy and Merlin had gone and saved the world and Eggsy was now a full fledged member of Kingsman, final test be damned. It did something to him, to know that Eggsy was excelling, was living up to his potential and surpassing Harry so splendidly. He still had much to learn, but as Eggsy himself said, Harry is still here and more than willing to help.

Eggsy visited as often as he was able around missions, sometimes with Roxy or JB in toe, and Merlin came in with a huge stack of files the moment Darleen said he could to give him a debrief on what the state of the world at large was. While he had visited before, it was only under Darleen’s watchful eye as talking shop would ‘upsetting the delicate healing process’ or some nonsense like that.

Nevertheless. The world wasn’t teetering as much as he expected, which was pleasantly surprising. What was not so pleasantly surprising was that in his unconscious, he’d been unanimously voted in as the new Arthur by the remaining Kingsman agents. It was backstabbing of the highest order.

“Here,” Eggsy sets a parcel down on the ornate desk that now belongs to him. Harry raises one eyebrow in a way he hopes his intimidating. Eggsy just bites his lip to stop smiling. Harry sighs and opens it—he hopes Eggsy’s not doing this out of any misplaced guilt about Harry being unable to preform standard field operations. If Harry was a little less selfish, he would ask the boy to stop. But he’s not, so here they are.

“Is this…” Harry slowly pulls out the figurine.

“It’s Arthur’s round table!” Eggsy can’t stop himself; “There you are at the head,” he points to the little figure in the most regal clothes that doesn’t look anything like Harry (Harry also decided not to mention that there can’t be a head to a round table), “and there’s Merlin on your right, and then Lancelot over there and Perceval next to her, and then that’s me to your left, Galahads represent.” He takes a moment, “I didn’t name the others, so that’s up to you.”

“How…kind.”

Eggsy laughs, a strong laugh that fills the room and Harry can’t help but smile, “Come off it, it’s funny as hell. Your real gift’s in the bottom.” He cocks his head towards the parcel.

There’s a receipt in the bottom—Harry takes it out and looks at Eggsy who wiggles his eyebrows. It’s a receipt for…

“No,” Harry feels his jaw drop.

“Oh yes.” Eggsy gives a giddy little laugh, and the excitement fills Harry, “It’s finally time that Mr. Pickles had a sibling.”———Ms. Pickles jumped at JB again, trying to get the poor dog to play when clearly he just wanted to nap.

“Stop letting your dog harass JB.” Eggsy says from the kitchen as though he has a sixth sense for JB. They’re at Harry’s house after a long walk with the dogs, and Eggsy is fixing them a late breakfast.

Harry is much more than capable and said such, but Eggsy must have noticed the fine lines of tension on his face (the headaches, while infrequent, were something close to debilitating) and demanded he sit and be waited on for once (“It’s gentlemanly of me, Harry, you should be all over that.”).

“She’s just looking to play a little, no harm done.”

Eggsy snorts, “I cannot believe how poorly trained you’ve let her be, it’s shocking.”

“She is a princess and deserves to be treated as such.” Harry clicks his tongue and Ms. Pickles trots over for the chin scratches that are imminent, “Besides, she’s a gift, you know, and deserves the utmost respect.”

Eggsy laughs and turns off the kettle, “You should treat the gift-giver like a prince then; it’s only fair.”

“Well I tried to cook him breakfast but was banished from the realm.”

Eggsy snorts, coming into the dining room and setting a full plate in front of Harry, “eat your food, Harry. You can pamper me later.” He winks.

The food is delicious, though it may have been the company. ———Harry’s been Arther for…a while now. Time moves oddly when in these types of positions. But he’s been in this seat for a while and it’s the first time he’s wondered how Chester died.

He was told that Eggsy did it, that he came back and finished Chester off after figuring out his plan, but there’s one thing to hear it in Merlin’s crisp, factual tone and another to see it. Harry finds the video surveillance from that day and sets it up to place on his tablet, suddenly feeling the great desire for some popcorn, even though he knows the video ends in death. ———“I’d rather be with Harry, thanks” Eggsy’s voice is tinny across the playback speakers but there’s no mistaking what he said. There’s no mistaking the look on his face when he watched Chester drink the drink that would kill him—the drink meant for Eggsy.

Harry sets down the tablet, taking a moment to put pieces together that had been payed out perfectly for months now.

“Hey Harry,” Eggsy walks into his office, without knocking as always, at home in Harry’s space. Harry finds he quite likes that, “I brought you some of those fancy cherry cordials you’re always going on about. Figured my pleb palate won’t be able to tell the difference but worth a shot, yeah?” Eggsy looks up from his bag and makes a face, “What’s wrong? Why you look like, I don’t know, the Queen just came in and farted or something?”

“Eggsy,” Harry gets out then tries again, feeling much more nervous than a man his age has any right to, “Eggsy, are you flirting with me?”

Eggsy’s eyes lock on his for a moment before he laughs, a short burst that forces its way past his lips, almost involuntarily. Oh. Well then. That does answer that, doesn’t it? Harry look at the tablet in front of him. He’s misread situations worse than that before, surely. Just can’t think of any that went quite this bad.

“You finally noticed?” Eggsy laughs again and when the words actually register Harry’s head snaps back up. Eggsy already looking at him, smile shy around the edges but confident in that beautiful way that he always is.

Harry gets up fast enough that his chair (his heavy oak chair) falls backwards and makes his way over to Eggsy faster than is probably warranted Eggsy’s half way through hey be careful, you’re still healing you idiot when Harry’s upon him, cupping Eggsy’s chin in both hands and pulling him in for a kiss that should have happened ages ago, but he’s so glad is happening now.

Eggsy sighs into it, a happy little sound that gives off faint edges of surprise like he can’t believe this is happening. If anyone has room for those doubts, it should he Harry—Eggsy shouldn’t doubt for a second that he is the best thing that could ever happen to someone, the best thing that ever happened to Harry.

His lips are soft and warm and he melts into it, bringing his arms around Harry’s neck as Harry moves one of his around Eggsy’s waist, pulling him closer and relishing every sparking point they touch. His mouth is inviting and the slide of his tongue makes Harry pull him closer, makes him bit at Eggsy’s lip and bask in the moan Eggsy lets out.

Breaking away is hard, and Harry can’t do it, not fully—he buries his face in the crook of Eggsy’s neck, licking and kissing and nipping the exposed flesh and drinking in every sound, every shaky breath and shiver that works through Eggsy’s body.

Harry pulls back, just enough to look Eggsy in the eye, “you beautiful, amazing boy. It’s my turn to flirt with you.”

#kingsman #kingsman eggsy #Kingsman harry hart #hartwin #eggsy #harry hart #think this might be classified as a proper one shot? Seems i went a bit overboard for a drabble #i fancy myself a writer #drabble on

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writingithink · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping In Mind Pairing: Ten x Rose Rated: T Wordcount: 2,359 Summary: The Doctor finally looks into Rose's telepathy (a bit). Notes: Life got busy, but finally Day 6 of @timepetalsweek ! I used the picture prompt and the word prompt 'wolves'.

For the first time, I'm going to say that if you haven't ready any of the other ones you might not enjoy this one as much. I don't think you'd necessarily be lost or anything, but yeah.

So many innumerable thank yous to @hey-there-juliet for betaing <3

All mistakes are mine.

I own nothing.

READ IT ON AO3 -> copy/paste link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25539580

“I think it’s that way,” Rose pointed, laughing as the Doctor tried to stand on his tiptoes to see over the crowds of people and ended up knocking his forehead on her chin.

“You know, the parade’s over. Don’t you want to stand on your own now?”

“No. I had to use my favor for this, so I’m gonna make the most of it, ta.”

He rolled his eyes, even as he smiled up at her. It really wasn’t that bad, she didn’t weigh much at all as far as he was concerned. If they ever had to do this the other way around, his wife would likely be shocked at how dense he was despite his skinny body. So he began to slowly weave through the groups of families that still hadn’t dispersed despite the late hour and the park closing. Just because giving her a piggyback ride was physically easy didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward to navigate.

I can get down if you really want.

“No, no, you’re right. It’s your favor. Blimey, I don’t know what I’d use mine for. Suppose I’ll just save it, I’m sure it will come to me.”

“Mmm shoulda put an expiration date on ‘em. That way I wouldn’t be blindsided whenever you do figure out what you want.”

“Were you planning to forget?” he asked, pausing to look around again. He could sense the TARDIS nearby, he just couldn’t see.

“No,” she chuckled, “but knowing you, it’ll be, like, ten years from now and you’ll be like ‘ Rose, remember how you owe me a favor’ and then ask me to do something completely barmy.”

The Doctor grimaced. “Don’t. Don’t do impressions. It’s not- no.”

But he did love the idea of her being with him ten years from now. She kissed the top of his head, their bond buzzing with pleasant emotions (and a hint of irritation, but he’d known that was coming the moment he questioned her character work - but really, she could settle for being good at most things, no one’s good at everything).

“Aha!” He finally locked eyes on their time ship and sped up, Rose gripping him tighter.

When they reached the door he paused and bent over so that his bondmate could unlock and open it, as his arms were still busy holding her up. Once inside, he kicked the door closed and paused once they got to the console.

“Down now?”

“Nope.”

“But how’m I supposed to fly the TARDIS?”

“Where are you trying to go now? I’m knackered. We landed at Epcot before it even opened and have been riding rides all day.”

“Nowhere, really. Just not here. Maybe orbit around a nice nebula.” The Doctor tried to shrug, but it was hard to accomplish with Rose on his back.

“Then it can wait. Let’s go to the galley, have a cuppa,” she suggested, and he wondered if he’d have to hold her the whole time she made tea.

Yup, came her mental response.

This can’t possibly be that fun for you, he insisted, despite the contradictory information the bond was giving him.

“C’mon, it’s a new experience,” his wife insisted, and she wasn’t wrong but it definitely wasn’t a new experience he would have ever put on a list of things to try.

With a sigh, the Doctor walked them around the console and to the main corridor, but he wasn’t paying nearly as much attention as he should have been as he turned down the hall and ended up bashing her head on one of the coral struts.

“Ow!!”

“I’m so sorry! So, so sorry!!”

He could feel how much that hurt over their connection. Still didn’t know how to turn off that part. It was so unconscious that telepathic barriers didn’t really do anything.

“Ohhh I think it’s bleeding,” she groaned.

“Sorry, sorry! We’ll have it fixed up in a jiffy, don’t you worry,” he promised, making a left instead of a right to get to the infirmary.

After kicking open the doors, the Doctor sat Rose onto the cot. “We’ll just press pause on the piggyback ride, yeah?”

“Mmm, I don’t really feel like it anymore,” she grumbled as he pulled the sonic out of his jacket pocket. Honestly, they probably didn’t need to be in here for this, but it was where the good antiseptic wipes were for after he healed her head wound.

“Sorry,” he whispered, parting her hair around the teeny tiny cut and sonicking it closed before doing a quick scan to make sure he hadn’t given her a concussion - he hadn’t.

“Stop sayin’ sorry, it was just an accident,” Rose huffed, and he was beginning to feel her headache through the bond.

And he almost apologized for apologizing, but thankfully caught himself.

It wasn’t until he turned around to find the antiseptic and some paracetamol that the Doctor noticed all of the various scanners and other equipment lined up on the counter. He’d done that weeks ago in a fit of productivity while Rose had been sleeping, and since then had completely forgotten about it. Well, not completely . But he had been putting it off. They’d been putting it off.

“We don’t have to wait until we’re done with our honeymoon if you don’t wanna,” Rose said, picking up on his frustrated guilt.

He sighed, getting back on track and opening the cupboard, hoping that the TARDIS hadn’t rearranged things again - thankfully she hadn’t. In fact she was being quite helpful today, wipes and pain reliever right at the front.

“It’s not exactly romantic,” he countered. “We’ve only just finished trip number four, and we already took a break to do wedding planning with your mum.”

“Well, at the rate we’re goin’, this honeymoon could last months yet. Don’t think I didn’t catch ya pondering about cabins this morning. Which I do approve of, by the way. I’ve always wanted to try skiing.” She gave him his favorite tongue-in-teeth grin.

“Awwwww that was going to be a surprise,” the Doctor pouted as he handed her the capsule before setting about cleaning her scalp and hair.

“You weren’t tryin’ very hard to keep it a secret,” his wife pointed out.

“I thought you weren’t really awake yet. Your thoughts were all … cotton candy-like.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, that’s the closest thing I could think of,” he defended. “Telepathy isn’t easy to describe! Especially not in English.”

Like the way her mental laughter gave his whole body a pleasant tingly bubbly-ness.

“Anyway, we’re here now so we might as well do your scans,” Rose said, changing the subject. “And I think you owe me two more favors now.”

“What? Why?”

“‘Cause, even though it was an accident you did mess up my piggyback ride.”

“But how does that equal two favors?” he asked, confused.

She looked up, momentarily dislodging his hand. “Because you love me?”

His bondmate was quite devious, and no amount of big, innocent eyes were going to change his mind. Unfortunately, she was right.

“ Fine,” he sighed, wondering when exactly she had wrapped him around her finger. The Doctor had a sneaking suspicion that it was earlier than he’d ever want to admit. He tipped her head back so that he could finish up. “Two favors for you, but you can’t use them to get out of my future-favor. Aaaaand, all done.” He gave her head a kiss and then moved back to the counter to get started on the scans.

“So, how’s this gonna work?” Rose asked.

“Should be easy. You can just stay where you are. This is a six-dimensional comprehensive deep scanner. Used to have an eight-dimensional one, but I seem to have misplaced it. Actually, I may have traded it. Hard to remember.”

He set up it’s tripod, calibrating the sight before dragging the cords over to the infirmary monitor.

“And this,” he continued, holding up a teal tablet about the size of a small laptop, “is a telepathic assessment device. Used to classify telepathy grades, basic ability test. It hooks up to you with these.” The Doctor picked up a handful of wireless electrodes.

“Wait, I’m gonna have to take a test?”

Distress echoed across the bond.

“Kind of. Sort of. It’s not like it’s something you need to study for.” This didn’t seem to reassure her. “We could skip this one?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t like takin’ tests,” Rose mumbled, crossing her arms and looking down.

The Doctor walked over, abandoning the equipment on a nearby cart before taking a seat next to her on the cot and wrapping an arm around her. “It’s really not that kind of test. It’s still medical, like a reflex test or a concussion test, you know, where they ask you the date and who’s prime minister. Just a basic check. And I’m certain you’ll do brilliantly. You’re such a strong presence in my mind, and since you have such a limited experience with telepathy I don’t think you can appreciate how exceptional that is. But really, I’m sure that I can still get a good picture of what’s going on if we didn’t do this one.”

“No, no, we can do it,” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “‘M sure you’re right. Just me being silly.”

“It’s not. Silly, that is.” He kissed her temple, both savoring the way their bond buzzed at the contact. “You’re sure?”

“Yup. I’m sure. What else do we need to do?”

“If we’re being thorough? A full medical. But I don’t feel like being that thorough right now. The TARDIS base scans should be fine.”

“TARDIS base scans?”

“Ah, right, have I never mentioned?” The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, mussing his hair. “Everyday, however many times we enter the TARDIS or whenever there’s a significant, unexpected change in our vitals, she scans us. To make sure we’re healthy. So, me too, not just you. If she thinks you might be getting sick, she adjusts the environment, adds different medicines into the air.”

“Into the air?” Her jaw dropped.

“I’ve very advanced technology on this ship, haven’t you noticed?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking just a little (and got a swat for his trouble).

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Rose decided, straightening up.

And so they got on with it. Really, it didn’t take very long - she finished up the telepathic assessment in under 20 minutes. During which the Doctor tried and failed to compile her TARDIS scans. He put on his specs and glared at the screens, thinking unflattering things to his time ship.

“Ugh, I don’t think that helped my headache,” his bondmate complained, setting down the tablet.

“Oh. I didn’t really think of that. Could you come over here? I need your hand.”

“What for?” she asked, coming up behind where he was sitting next to the monitors and draping her body over her back.

“She won’t let me look at your scans without your permission.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, that’s polite. Where’s my hand go?”

“Right in here,” he said, pointing at a white iridescent box. “And no, it’s not polite. I’m your doctor!”

“Mmm, yeah, you are,” Rose agreed, licking the shell of his ear before obediently sticking her hand into the reader.

All of the doctor-ly things he had previously been thinking about fled his mind, followed by telepathic laughter and a few very suggestive images.

Minx, he mentally chastised.

Mmm, but all yours.

“So!” he shouted (on accident), “I’ll just set your 6d scans and assessment to configure. And the TARDIS has finished graphing your daily scans with a focus on your telepathic centers. Want to know the results, or …?”

“Yeah, tell ‘em to me,” she whispered into his ear, and how did she do this?

I thought you had a headache?

She didn’t bother responding to that, instead taking a seat in his lap. The Doctor had to crane his neck in order to look at the computer screens. It was very hard to focus with his wife massaging his shoulders. But he eventually managed, eyes widening and mouth falling open as he read the readout.

It was pretty much what he’d suspected, but still. It’s one thing to theorize and another to see the evidence right in front of him.

“What? What is it?”

Rose stopped teasing him, looking back and forth between him and the monitors of Circular Gallifreyan.

“Bad Wolf.”

“Wait, what?”

He finally pulled his eyes away from the screens and focused on his bondmate, who was beginning to panic.

“It’s nothing bad,” the Doctor was quick to reassure her. “You’re fine. Perfectly healthy. It’s just, when you and the TARDIS merged, you had to connect telepathically. Humans, you’ve got loads of possibilities in your DNA that you never evolved to use. Telepathy is one of those things, the markers are already there. So what the TARDIS did was activate them, which allowed you two to properly communicate. Remove the Vortex, though, and the knowledge of how to use the telepathy disappears. But if you look at the progression from then to now, there’s been steady improvement. You’re stretching the muscles, so to speak.”

“And that’s … it’s fine?”

“Perfectly fine,” he repeated, hugging her tightly. “None of it’s normal, but I can’t say I’ve ever liked normal. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I can’t be certain, but assuming your trends hold, you’ll quickly become a stronger telepath than I am. Provided you have lessons.”

“Like more telepathy lessons than usual?” She frowned. “We have those all the time.”

“Not necessarily more often. More varied, though. Ohhh, I’m going to have to do even more reading. And I’ve not even started. I should really get on that.”

“Yeah, but not right now.” Rose stood and then began playing with his tie.

“Oh, definitely not right now. I was, you know, speaking in general, relative terms.”

The Doctor slid to the edge of his chair and went to take his glasses off.

Leave ‘em, his wife projected.

And he was quite delighted to wait to do all of this research until after she inevitably fell asleep.

#timepetalsweek #ficandchips #ten x rose #dw fic #dw fanfiction #timepetals #tenrose #fandom: doctor who #pairing: rose x doctor #fic: keeping in mind #my fic

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myhackerbuddy · 4 years ago

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ANOTHER STORY

RAY’S ROUTE

Ray/Saeran is one hell of a character. For me, he’s one of the most pitiful who deserve more love from us. He might be an antagonist in casual and deep story, but in Another Story he’s just a boy who is lost and manipulated.

You’ve been chosen as a tester for his game where you’ll chat RFA members and act as the party coordinator. Ray will introduced his self as the creator, and offers you to stay in his place as you play his game. He’s a nice and sweet guy who cooks for you and give you flowers as his token of appreciation for testing his game. Though we know that he’a slowly developing feelings for the MC. He will visit your chatroom from time to time, and also pay you a visit in your room. He’ll always remind you that they are AI, and has comments every time you say they are nice and all. He clearly despise all of them that it’s entertaining.

However, his feelings seems to be a threat as the Savior slowly notices Ray being out of focus. She would order her believers to bring twice his elixir intake just so she can twist his mind off. Ray notices but as devoted as he is to the Savior, he drinks it despite his complains.

As you finally enter his route, he will not let you undergo the Cleansing Ceremony because he cares for you. He knows how painful it is and he doesn’t want you to experience that excruciating pain. So he gave you a complete imitation of elixir, telling you to drink it instead of the ‘real elixir’, in case the Savior will give you one.

Ray, as much as how nice and dedicated he is on doing his duty to ‘fight’ his brother from hacking, the Savior still notices the sudden change of Ray’s behavior so she held a sudden ceremony where they would force them to take elixir until the person is finally in a ‘correct’ state of mind.

In Day 8, he appeared to be completely different. He visits you to tease you, and calls you a toy, an airhead and good-for-nothing. In able to wake his other persona, the Savior calls him weak, and attack his imperfections and dark past just so he’ll feel bad and insecure.

Saeran is made from hatred. In able to keep him awake, he trolls and insult the MC, because by doing that he’ll feel stronger. That way he won’t feel someone can ever torment him. He get his strength by being mean and by showering him that he’s strong. The Savior will always remind him that he is strong, completely different when it’s Ray. It all depends if you are going to let him toy you or you’ll remain quiet. However Saeran admitted it to his self and in front of MC that all his words were not meant for her, but to him. All of those were his mother’s words.

This realization was all thanks to V, who tried to talked to him when Saeran’s in hiding and so confuse. Though V failed to fully convinced him, he saw a glimpse of hope when he mentioned being free together with the MC. I want to commend V for this route as he work so hard to fix his faults, regardless of endless claiming that he should be the one to blame. Zen and V’s conversation is really intense. Zen made its way to V’s heart by sharing his own experience about accepting his flaws and by choosing what he want, even by crossing in the hard road. He made sense on how things weren’t always in our grasp. That even if we shower our love to someone, if they won’t accept it, then they will not be able to understand you.

V claims that he failed to give Rika the love she deserve, and insisted to being the fruit of the cause. However, Zen brushed it off, saying he shouldn’t be harsh on his self and stop blaming his self. For once, he should stand up right and do what a true leader should be, and that is to correct his faults and not carry all the burden.

I understand V’s point, that he wanted to protect Rika. He, too, realized that he can’t protect her and RFA at the same time without revealing the truth. So he told in the chatroom about Seven’s identity, with Yoosung on the ears. It’s a shocking news for him, but the truth made Yoosung feel sympathy to him. He didn’t know how much burden V has been carrying. He’s able to get a little trust by Yoosung, but V didn’t really disclosed who’s the one controlling and manipulating Saeran. I still think V wanted to hide it at this point maybe because he wants to hope he still can save her. But we know he can’t. Rika, will remain as she is if she won’t seek for others light. She needs to love herself to be free from darkness. A simple talk would not work. He needed Jumin’s power but he can’t talk to him because Jumin’s being interviewed like Zen.

The last call (outgoing) from Seven was at Day 10, after the chatroom at 1:00 am something. When you call him, he quickly responded saying he is not in his house and you should comeback later when he’s home. It’s obvious that he’s making it up to cover you, hinting that you should delete all your data concerning him because you might get in trouble. You’ll know that he’s been taken and that they wanted him to drop the call. Seven, in the end, saved you from being involved that makes it more frustrating. The other members can’t reach him, even V.

I’m guessing it’s his father, but it can also be their agency since Vanderwood’s also involved. Either way, they are still in danger.

Rika would sneak every chatroom you are in, and you’ll know Saeran is back but very sick. Savior said that he came back and drunk all the elixir, the reason why he’s unconscious. But the elixir is not effective anymore because he finally realize the truth.

I’m so concerned with the twins, but I had a bad feeling about what V could do. He can pull off his sacrifice thing again just so the MC and Saeran can escape. I’ve been getting hints from his text messages and calls, like he’s saying goodbye.

I hated the fact that Seven’s nowhere to be found, and V will soon be in trouble. I know the story is yet to finish, as Saeran’s After Ending is still in the process, but it’s so frustrating if you’ll be left just like that.

At this point Saeran was truly enlightened. I am so happy for this, though Rika is really pitiful. The truth is, she’s trying to create a world where no one can ever step on her. She collected Believers in exchange of having an excuse to make it seems like she’s guiding them in the right path. Rika is the one who’s afraid to go outside. She’s the one who’s dark, coward and is incapable to do anything without someone’s command. That is her inner demon who keeps on blinding her. The Believers and Saeran is her way to shield her to the outside world.

She’s basically becoming like her parents. Different method, but same outcome. She had it bad.

Turns out that V has decided to sacrifice again. He went to Rika and told her he’s ready to love her again, and that he now knows how to love her... This made me so frustrated again.

V is being selfless, but is that the right thing to do? I thought he came to his senses. And his call made me feel like it’s the MC’s fault lol. He said that he finally know what true love is because of you, but he’s commiting the same mistake again. If you will look at it, if V will do everything what Rika ask him, he’ll end up in vain. He’ll suffer. If that’s his way for correcting his faults, then I want to shout at him for being fool.

Can’t we all save them in one route? I truly hope Saeran’s After Ending will help us save V too. Seven is another thing, but V is their second father. I felt his sense of responsibility in this route. As a father who had faults, he tried to protect them, and did everything to save them. Though I hated his way.

I don’t think we should hate V for this, as we know his own issue (that is, if you played his route). Unlike the other, V tried to move straight, even with loads of burden to carry. He’s a man with principle, and that is to protect everyone. However, hiding the truth will only stop him from moving forward.

But let’s give him the credit of researching about the twin’s father, plus he’s been going back and fort in monitoring you in Mint Eye and making sure Seven and the others are okay. He’s not perfect, but he’s one hell of a character too.

Yes the road is still far from reaching the goal. RFA doesn’t have a slightest idea about Rika’s whereabouts, and is still busy tracking Seven and planning about the prime minister. And then they have to save V too.

Normal Ending

The video got blocked so Jumin proceeded to his Plan B. That is to bring Saeran and the MC to his vacation place. That way, he can secure their safety as the prime minister tried to fix the mess. The one who blocked is no other than Seven’s agency. This made me think that the agency is holding Seven and Vanderwood captive. They’ve been hinting that one wrong move and the agency will blow them out. Be it on failing a mission or getting into mess, Seven created a huge violation to the agency. He was accepted because he stated that he doesnt have any relatives left. And by the agency blocking the video that contains the truth, it’s obvious that they didn’t like it. This made me worry about Seven and Vanderwood.

It’s a bittersweet ending for me. Magenta is untraceable, V and Seven is missing. However, Saeran and the MC has been living peacefully and planning for their future, completely ignoring all the problems that they left behind.

Good Ending

It was a success. The prime minister got jailed and the twins were the talked of the town. However, Seven’s still missing. Probably the agency is the one who held them captive, and worst, they’ve been disposed before they know it, after they blew the truth.

Or maybe... Seven escaped and is in hiding from the agency. We’ll know in AE for sure. Also, we don’t know if Seven’s really leaving traces of him so they can find him fast, as Saeran stated when he found the place on the same day by hacking. It’s also because Saeran’s a naturally genius too like Seven. We can’t really tell who’s better in hacking, all I know is they are invincible if they work together.

The RFA didn’t gave up. They went to the old place were they lived and tried to investigate if there are traces of Seven there. Saeran felt suffocated that’s why he went out with MC to talked about his brother.

He may not said it, but I think Saeran already forgive him for leaving. He knew he’s been used and brainwashed. He also knew the reason why he left: V made Seven an informant to protect him.

The MC then gave him his bookmark for Seven, the one V brought and tried to give when they first met.

This made me wonder... Rika and V’s appearance made me wonder what they are planning next. First, they got rid of Magenta and went to the old house to dispose it too. They visited it before they left. Their destination? It remains a mystery.

We don’t really know what Rika is planning. She’s not yet done, that’s for sure. Remember how she wanted to get a hold of the RFA members? Even with V by his side. I can’t help not to connect it to the Secret Ending.

Even if she’ll blind and limp him, she won’t be contented. Unless V find a way to save her. But that’s only possible if he’ll realize his flaws: the obsession and they way he view what love is.

In the end he sacrifice again for the sake of the RFA members. It was a selfless move as a leader, but very selfish for the members to keep the secret and leave the issue in his hand.

The mystery will continue to Saeran’s After Ending. And I suggest to ready your heart as well as your hourglasses.

Farm as many hg as you can, because I feel like it’ll be a big one just like how they created V’s AE. Maybe the reason that it’s taking long to finish is because they are trying to polish it perfectly, so as we wait for it to finish let’s uncover some of the Bad Endings and Rika’s Story first.

#mysticmessenger #mysme #another story #saeran after ending #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #unknown saeran #cheritz #spoilers #vanderwood #v jihyun kim #mysme rfa #saeran #ray route

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doopcafe · 4 years ago

Photo

Star Wars TCW: Old Friends Not Forgotten (7x09)

Summary: Ahsoka says goodbye to Anakin and meets Maul on Mandalore.

Comments: What... What is happening with this opening? I had to pause it to make sure I was watching the correct thing. But nah fam, here’s our ridiculous narrator. Oh wait... is that little Kanan??

And General G! But he looks like a creepy cat!

Right, so the first line of dialogue is a clone yelling at other clones to “Take cover!” as they all run straight towards a massive army out in the open. Just shout action movie clichés, that’ll win the war.

Cody is saved by the timely arrival of Prequel!Wan who... was probably off doing f— all as his men were slaughtered by their tried-and-true, never-fails battle tactic of “running out in the open without cover as droids shoot at them.” It’s played as like a dramatic save by Prequel!Wan, but for anyone who’s been paying attention, it’s yet another example of power imbalance and inappropriate distribution of force. In other words: why isn’t Prequel!Wan on the front lines all the time?

Anakin shows up and nonchalantly comments there are “only” a thousand droids and makes fun of Prequel!Wan for taking cover as a thousand droids shoot at them. I think this was supposed to be funny, but it’s cringy and continues to demonstrate this power imbalance. Cody over here is shitting bricks.

Anakin walks out by himself, the droid leader tells them to “hold their fire” and then “ready, aim” because that’s what you say in cartoons and dumb action movies. Anakin then tells the droids to hold their fire and... they all do??

Anakin’s plan is to lure the tactical droid into the open so that he can Force pull him into his lightsaber. He does this. But then there’s a bunch of hidden clones with jet packs hiding on the bottom of the bridge that wait for this signal to take off and fly over the droid army, dropping grenades. Why did they hide beneath the bridge?

Anyways, the OP!Jedis’ slave abuse and horrible battle strategies are interrupted by Admiral Yularen saying they’re receiving a transmission from “Fulcrum,” who Anakin initially mistakes for Saw Gerrera, but turns out to be Ahsoka. I have questions about this, but whatever.

Ahsoka and Bo-Katan believe they’ve located Maul and if they move swiftly, they might be able to capture him. I don’t know why “moving quickly” would help in capturing Maul (rather than, say, approaching Maul slowly), but whatever.

Also, having watched Rebels, we already know (1) Ahsoka will be fine, (2) Maul will be fine and we know Anakin and Prequel!Wan will be fine, so...? Even Bo-Katan will be fine. Is there going to be a plot here? Anyone not going to be fine?

Anyways, I’m only eight minutes into this thing... Right, so Ahsoka’s all business as she explains intel that Maul is on Mandalore in some city, but... uh... don’t they already know this? Didn’t Maul like, kill Sabine, take over Mandalore, and is now like, the main dude of Mandalore? Are these episodes out of order again, or...? The plot here is that Bo-Katan wants the Republic’s help in “locking down the city” so that they can capture Maul and she can rule Mandalore afterwards.

There’s actually kinda a charming scene here where Captain Rex and his men painted their helmets with, uh, Ahsoka’s tattoos... or skin markings... actually, now that I think about it, it’s sort of creepy, but I get the idea. These clones will be Ahsoka’s loyal soldiers and fight/die for her. It’s touching, okay?

Ahsoka and Prequel!Wan have a debate about politics and it’s resolved by some hand waving because everyone else is rushing off to Coruscant because General G has attacked the capital! This is interesting because we’re right up against Episode III in the final chapter of the Republic and doing more interesting stories than “Ahsoka fixes her bike.”

Anakin returns Ahsoka’s lightsabers, which are blue. Also, this confuses me because... did she leave them when she left the Jedi Order? Was she not allowed to keep them? Can’t she just make new ones? Did Anakin make new ones for her? Weren’t they green before? And later white in Rebels? So many unimportant questions!

There’s a final goodbye scene between Anakin and Ahsoka here, which I assume is the last time they see each other before Anakin changes into his Darth Vader suit that he just got back from the dry cleaners.

Gar Saxon and Sabine’s mom make an appearance... There’s lots of fighting, some fun scenes of Ahsoka cutting shit up, some stupid action movie lines... Bo-Katan retakes the throne room from the Prime Minister and Ahsoka walks into a trap set by Maul, but the clones suddenly all split up and get taken out in pieces, which... is what happens when you split up... Ahsoka holds the hand of Captain Someone as he dies, then gets surrounded by a bunch of Mandalorians as *sigh* Darth Maul shows up.

And that’s the end of the episode.

In conclusion, Ahsoka meets Maul on Mandalore.

Whatever. Here, watch Rem dance to a nightcore version of Seven Nation Army.

My enjoyment: 2/5

#pie211-tcw #tcw #the clone wars #star wars

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