#read between the lines. bare minimum they were living together at this point. where was that witcher 3

[kashuan]

once again I am Pondering this line from the gwent story... a small detail but it means So much to me... thinking about how we could have had it all in witcher 3 if this set up had been used....... . . .

[bestworstcase]

What specifically makes you say that the Ozpin circle is basically a cult?

not "basically" a cult—it is a cult.

ozpin's inner circle is a religious organization dedicated to safeguarding four divine relics entrusted to their leader, who is literally the god of light's chosen one, until he deems humanity prepared for the final judgment. its notionally secular nature likely exists because ozma figured out that publicly doing this:

“The others cheered in agreement. The man considered. He had wanted to bring people together, and his efforts were finally bearing fruit. The accidental experiment was working, far better than any attempts he had planned in his previous lifetimes. “The people here believe in magic, though many have never seen it,” she said. “If you show everyone that it’s real, that the man with infinite lifetimes has returned as he promised—” [...] “She shook her head. “We trust in you and the fate you’ve laid out for us. We believe in the good of people and our shared responsibility to protect one another and Remnant. So many have heard our stories about you, but now you’re here, in the flesh. Your presence is living proof that everything you’ve said is true. It reinforces our beliefs and commitment to the Circle. Together, now, we will make ready for the final judgment.” [...] “And for a time, all that the woman had said seemed to come true. Many more followers flocked to Circle and their reputation and message spread all throughout Remnant. This was what he was here for, he thought. Perhaps, in the end, he would be able to rest.”

inevitably leads to conflict because, surprise! people don't like being told what to do by eschatological cults!

but ozpin's circle is not in fact secular—ozpin tells his hand-picked loyalists that the gods he serves are the Only True Gods and the whole point is that he's working to fulfill the mandate given to him by the god of light. the huntsmen academies are, inescapably, a religious institution.

moreover ozpin's circle is a cult not just in the broader sense of being religious in nature and dedicated to worship of a particular god but also in the narrower modern connotation of a high-control group organized around a charismatic leader. this is not a matter of interpretation; this is overt text. half the point of pyrrha's arc in V3 is to reveal this fact.

members of his inner circle are expected to work in absolute secrecy and—evinced by the antagonism between qrow and ironwood in V2-3, and the immediate suspicion of lionheart in V5—subject to intense scrutiny by other members against the possibility of betrayal. likewise, pyrrha is deliberately isolated from her peers (primarily through secrecy) and put under immense pressure when ozpin et al attempt to recruit her as their next fall maiden—all without informing her of anything beyond the very bare minimum facts of what they want her to do. "we can fill you in on the details once we know that you're with us."

and like. with the way those scenes in V3 are framed, with the very direct line drawn between ozpin's ruinous paranoia and secrecy and preoccupation with betrayal and ironwood's ruinous obsession with loyalty, and with the whole thing where the narrative continues to highlight how deeply and profoundly traumatized everyone who comes into contact with the inner circle ends up being... like, this is the intended reading. it is so unsubtle.

salem's circle is also a cult in the religious sense—she's, er, very explicitly receiving cult from tyrian and i would argue at least notionally from the others as well—and while it remains to be seen to what extent tyrian's belief that she would send him to hunt down anyone who left is grounded in reality, at a minimum she doesn't bother to do anything about it so the implicit threat is there to keep people in line.

[ashrillvenheim]

Awakening Past

Chapter 04

I thought the previous chapter was a little too short. I've had some free days so I decided to give one chapter more. The fifth chapter will be the last one before the time skip. Thank you for all your support and I hope you like this one too :3

pairing: Ashley Graham x Leon S Kennedy.

Content: romance, angst, gore, erotic/suggestive themes at some point (+18), slow burn, violence, action.

If you feel unconfortable with any of this genres or you are a minor, please don’t keep reading, thank you.

Word count: to much to count (minimum of 2k-3k) :3

About: Saddler is dead, and with him the threat that was hanging over the two survivors of the island. Leon and Ashley return home with the intention of getting their lives back on track, but it's not going to be that easy. Two years have passed since they returned from that hell and it seems that everything is back to its place, but it seems that Spain was only the beginning.

A transition from RE4 Leon to ID Leon.

MASTERLIST

prev / next

CHAPTER 04

She screamed between walls, escaping from the shadows that crawled inside her, tearing her apart and slowly devouring her. The painkillers reached a point where they could not be given in any more quantity without causing a cardiac arrest.

Sometimes she would just cry and look for him in the dark, until he would come out of his corner and see her. She would only calm down when she met the blue of his eyes and then she would realize she was okay.

But it wasn't viable.

Her amber eyes opened staring at the ceiling. She hadn't slept again and already felt the heaviness in her body.

The sedatives were no longer enough and only Leon's voice ended up making her sleep, only to wake up again two hours later, from beeing devoured by deformed wolves.  

She sighed looking at her hands, now without bandages, where the fine lines of the healed cuts were visible. Her back had also improved, but she had been warned that it was going to leave a very ugly mark.

Well, he had already assumed as much when that axe hit him.

She leaned her elbows on the mattress to raise her head to the other room in front of her.

Leon was still asleep, she couldn't see him.

She sighed. She didn't sleep, but she wouldn't let Leon sleep either. He would come to her when she called out his name incessantly at night and then probably never fall asleep again, at least not until she calmed down.

She remembered how she managed to fall asleep when she was by her side, but now they were apart and they wouldn't let them get together again.

Then an idea occurred to her. The doctors might not quite agree, but if they didn't come through that door to stop her, she planned to try.

Very carefully and quietly she stood up, trying not to strain her wounds and not to wake his companion.

She sat on the edge of the bed and reached down until her bare fingers caressed the sterile surface. A shiver ran down her spine at the cold touch of the artificial floor.

Hands to work.

***

He heard a thump. A shiver ran through his body as he emerged from the realm of dreams.

Had Ashley woken up?

He'd managed to get some more sleep despite hearing her screaming her heart out. Maybe it was the doctors checking up on her. He rolled over in bed and looked at the laptop.

6:30. It wasn't the doctors.

He groaned pulling his eyelids apart and pushing the sheets away. He heard something shuffling, along with bare footsteps.  

What was she doing?

He massaged his eyes as he walked yawning toward the glass window. He was stunned to see a mattress attached to the thick glass and her blonde companion bringing all the sheets.

“Ashley? What are you doing?”

Her amber orbs lifted up at him, surrounded by dark circles under her eyes, but she still gave him a dazzling smile.

“Good morning, I've decided to move. Maybe if I am closer, the nightmares will cancel each other out.”

Leon's eyes widened at those words, the same ones she said to him when she woke him from a bad dream.

Kennedy couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

“Well, you'll have to pay the rent.”

“I'll cook you a steak the way my mother used to, deal?”

“That's fine with me.”

Ashley finished pulling back the blankets and stood up smoothly.

“I'm Ashley Graham, your new neighbor.”

Leon laughed and disappeared for a second. There was another thump and the mattress slid in front of her and then he came over.

“I'm Leon Kennedy, nice to meet you.”

They both laughed and Ashley was soon sitting cross-legged.

Leon noticed that she was moving more freely.

“How are your injuries?” he asked as he sat down as well.

She looked at her hands and feet.

“The truth is that they don't hurt anymore. Only my back bothers me when I move around too much.”

“That sounds fine.”

Ashley stared at him for a few seconds, then interlocked her fingers nervously.

“I wanted to... apologize... for everything" he raised an uncomprehending eyebrow. “For making you spend sleepless nights because of me.

“Hey, princess, please don't apologize for that.” He looked down at their mattresses, separated by a few inches of solid glass.”Look, since it's still early, what do you say if we try to rest and see if that theory of yours works?”

“The nightmare thing?”

“It's been years since my last math class, but if I remember correctly, negative plus negative is positive, right?”

She grinned from ear to ear and lay down curled up against the glass, as close as she could to him.

Leon mimicked her and they slipped between the sheets.

“Good night Leon.”

“Good night princess.”

***

Whispers echoed in the depths, a soft echo and this time they were not screams, only purrs that rocked her. It was pleasant, even though she didn't know where she was.

Her body felt relaxed and she sighed at the calm that flooded her. The warmth of the sheets enveloped her softly, wrapping her, protecting her.

Her sleep began to become lighter and slowly the whispers became clearer, forming more coherent words. She heard a deep voice, accompanied by a softer one, and as she began to wake up, she decided to open her eyes lazily.

She blinked several times until she focused on a broad back, sitting at the table in front of the laptop.

“Next time don't take so long to send me the reports.” Hunnigan sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose.  

Leon snorted.

“Some excitement is nice to break the monotony, don't you think?”

“Not when I have deadlines, Kennedy.” he paused, sighing. “How's Ashley doing?”

Leon turned in his seat and a big smile tugged at his lips as he saw her sit up with a yawn.

“Look, Sleeping Beauty has decided to wake up.”

Ashley laughed sitting up in the sheets.

“Good morning Leon, good morning Hunnigan.”

The operator agent smiled.

“Good afternoon Ashley.”

She opened her eyes widely, afternoon? She looked at Leon's screen and saw what time it was.

15:30

Had she slept eight hours in a row?

The young woman's surprised face made Leon laugh.

“I thought it would take an earthquake to wake you up." the agent joked and a throat clearing behind him replied sarcastically.

“Says the one who woke up just an hour ago.”

Ashley looked at Leon, who scratched the back of his neck with a slight blush on his ears. She smiled with her heart racing with joy.

“It looks like my theory has worked.”

Leon looked at her and though he didn't realize it, Hunnigan saw the sweetness with which he watched Ashley, the way his lips curved subtly, as if he saw in her the rays of the sun.

“Well” Ingrid interrupted the eye contact. "Now that I've got you both awake, I'll catch you up.

Leon got up to grab the laptop and sit on the mattress next to Ashley.

She thanked him for the gesture and they both looked at Ingrid like students at their teacher.

“You have two more weeks of quarantine. Once it's over you'll go home and have to fill out some reports.”  she paused to look at Ashley. “ I know it's not pleasant, but even though Leon has filled out everything that has happened since he found you, we need to have a record of what happened from your abduction until he located you.”

Ashley's gaze darkened for a few seconds. Memories crawling from the back of her mind, threatened to embrace her with nightmares again. She shook her head quickly and looked at the worried Leon with a smile.

“Leon has already done all the hard work, what I have to contribute is hardly relevant, so I'll be fine.

Hunnigan looked at her for a few seconds and then continued.

“When you fill in everything, Leon will be given his next orders. We do not yet know what he will be entrusted with, but probably a long vacation.”

Leon grunted, leaning back against the glass and throwing his head back.

“I hope so.”

Ashley looked at the man, noticing his neck stretched out, muscles extended and strong. Honestly, she was wondering if she had some sort of fixation on necks and collarbones.

“And as for you, Ashley.” Hunnigan's call brought her out of her thoughts. “Your father has been processing your absence from the university. The Minister of Education is a good friend of his, so he has taken it upon himself to excuse your absence.

“What's the story?”

Hunnigan was surprised at how direct she had been.

“The official story is that you had a serious medical condition, which meant you had to travel to Europe for treatment that wasn't offered here. There was no call for exchange students, so that option was not viable. You won't get kicked out of college, but....

Ashley realized what she meant.

“I have to make up these two months of exams and studies, I get the idea.”

Leon looked at her somewhat curiously, undecided whether to ask.

“What are you studying?”

Ashley turned to him.

“Biology.”

That answer took him by surprise. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to him that she would study that.

“What? Are you surprised?” she laughed, seeing the bewilderment in his blue eyes.

“Well...honestly, ...I wasn't expecting it.” he gave up with a nervous laugh. Ashley wanted to punch him in the shoulder, but had to settle for snorting sarcastically.

“I may be blonde, but I'm not that dumb.”

Leon held up his hands in innocence.

“I didn't say that.”

Ashley looked at him with a lopsided smile and turned to Hunnigan.

“How will my stay there be managed? I doubt my father will let me live as I was before.”

The agent typed for a couple of seconds and then replied.

“He wants to assign you a personal bodyguard, plus therapy for nightmares and insomnia. Nothing is officiall yet, but that's the plan, plus finding an apartment and remodeling it’s security.

“Yeah..." whispered Ashley, "I thought so.”

The two agents looked at the young woman and then at each other.

“Well, until then we'll have time to train.”

Ashley arched her eyebrows at Leon.

“Training?”

The agent gave his trademark lopsided grin.

“Did you think you'd spend the rest of the quarantine sleeping?”

“Uh... yes?”

Leon's lips widened and his smile turned amused.

“Oh, I don´t think so.”

***

He said and he followed through.

For the next two weeks Ashley was able to curse Leon ad nauseam. As soon as the doctors gave her back injury an approval, the agent set up a training program for her. As soon as she heard him say what he had planned for her she grabbed the mattress and dragged it across the room, away from him.

“Oh, come on, princess.” he said laughing, theatrically offended.

“You don't want to train me, you want to laugh at me.” Ashley mumbled, curled up in a ball between the sheets.

“Why do you say that?”

“Leon, I don't know how to do half of those exercises.”

The agent stretched out his arms.

“And that's what I'm here for, Miss Graham.”

Ashley looked at him suspiciously, but it was so hard to say no with that smile....

“If I break anything, I'm not going to protect you from my father.”

Leon put his hand on his heart.

“I wouldn't do anything that puts you in danger, you know that.”

That time his smile was no longer teasing.

It was sincere.

And she couldn't say no to him anymore.

That's how the rest of the days went.

Ashley started rehab while Leon continued with his daily workouts and then in the evenings the agent and her worked together. He wanted Ashley to regain some strength so he could teach her some techniques that might come in handy in the future. He didn't know if he would continue to hold the position to protect the president's family or if she would be given new assignments, so for now all he could do was teach her some basic tricks.

At first Ashley was embarrassed. The nerves of imagining herself screwing up in front of Leon were getting the better of her, but he was doing them with her. They stood next to each other on the glass and went through the drills.

She had time to watch him do his exercises and to admire him when his shirt stuck to him with sweat. But even though it was hard not to stare at his Greek sculpture body, she tried to focus on watching his movements as well. She was incapable of fighting like that, so she limited herself to trying to understand the succession of keys, kicks and punches.

Once she even went so far as to ask him if he would ever teach her to do a Suplex, to which Leon flatly refused, knowing that if she did it wrong it could send her entire back rehab to hell.

Spain never came up in any conversation again. Leon had found that since they had put the mattresses together on the floor, they both slept better, although that didn't mean that every now and then one of them woke up running away from nightmares. When that happened, the other would answer and they would have chats between whispers and giggles. They didn't want the cameras to hear their conversations.

They used to stick to the glass. Leon would tell her stupid things he had done as a child and Ashley would tell him anecdotes from when her mother was still alive.

Leon found out a lot about her. Her mother died when she was a child and her father had not had a relationship with anyone else since then, he only had her. That made him understand how important she was and how hard it must have been, for her father, to wait, while Leon and Ashley were in Spain.

She told him that her mother taught her to sing from a young age and that she always tried to do it to keep her memory. She told him that there was a melody she composed when she was pregnant with her and that she sang it to her every day, even after her birth.

“It is the melody I have ever heard you murmur.” whispered the agent. Ashley looked at him in surprise.

“I don't remember singing it in front of you.”

Leon could not see the blush that covered her cheeks.

“On your sleep.”

Ashley's embarrassment left her speechless, but a soft chuckle cheered her up.

“Don't worry, you have a very nice voice, although I'd like to hear you awake sometime.”

“I don't know if you deserve it.” She murmured playfully, eliciting a chuckle from the agent who tapped his fingertips on the thick glass.

“You know I do.” his voice was a husky caress that made her tingle.

Of course he deserved it, that and much more.

The nights became more bearable and Ashley soon began to feel better in training with Leon. Her spirits increased and the smile was something that was already beginning to paint her lips almost daily. The hours turned into days and the days into weeks, eventually finding themselves dressed in regular clothes. They had been provided with new clothes, giving them their old ones, along with all their personal effects, in a box. Ashley changed into jeans that were a little baggy for her and a sweatshirt. With her heart in her fist she grabbed the box and headed for the door.

40 days.

40 days locked up is like hamsters.

The door beeped and slid open to let the young woman breathe. Ashley inhaled deeply and tears nearly spilled from her eyes. She took a step outside and heard another beep. She turned to meet blue orbs that broke into a smile at the sight of her.  Ashley stared at Leon for a few long seconds, thoughtful and undecided. Then she set the box down and walked toward him. Leon could only push his container away with one hand before he felt the woman's arms wrap around his neck. He wrapped his free limb around her waist and unconsciously plunged his face into her hair. How good she smelled now with a good fresh shower, subtly lavender and pine.

He felt Ashley cling to him, pressing her torso against his and sighing with his closeness.

“I never would have thought I'd miss a hug so much.”

Leon laughed, firming his grip on her waist tightly.

“Me neither…”His answer was barely a whisper in her ear and for a few seconds they both closed their eyes, simply enjoying each other's closeness.

“It won't be long before the plane takes off.”

The voice startled them causing them to quickly pull apart with their pulses racing.

Ashley still felt Leon's warmth and his scent accompanied her for the entire trip.

“Shall we go home?” she smiled.

“We're going home.” he affirmed.

[ohworm-writes]

#01 - Tape One | series masterlist

⮞ Beta Reader - @jschllatt​ ! thank you so much for proofreading this for me !

⮞ Pairing - Monster!Technoblade x Monster-Hunter!Reader ⮞ Summary - A sleepless night and a hazy mind aren’t the smartest thing to bring along on a solo mission that could end in your demise, but what’s the worst that could happen? ⮞ Rating - Mature (SFW) ⮞ Warnings - cursing , weapons ( hatchet, crossbow, gun ) , slight anxiety ⮞ Word Count - 2.8k ⮞ Taglist - Open! Send an Ask or DM to be added

@ohworm-writes​​​ copyright 2021 | do not repost

Time is a finicky thing. It's a social construct created by humans as a desperate grasp at something they can control. Of course, they can't control the sun or the stars. That would be insane, would it not? Humans were the people who gave time meaning. If not for them, we would only see it as darkness and light, not the hours we've put between them. How was it they made up such an important idea, something key to their everyday lives, that only they as a race use? Humans are the only ones who use time, their actions simply affect everything else. 

Take canines, for example. Their genetics tell them when they are to hunt, to mate, to kill. They don't depend on the hours or the days, that itself is a foolish thing to them. Why would they need to know it? They know that once the sun has set; the hunt is on. With humans around, they have disrupted the balance of it. These once feared predators depend on the hand of a human to feast. They depend on an electronic clock to sate their pangs of hunger. 

Looking at it, how would humans be without time? Would the world crumble? Would everything they had once known to be true turn out to simply be a lie? Mayhaps-but that is the beauty of it all. The beauty of chaos, the beauty of the world closing its curtains in the final act. And when the crowd asks for an encore, who would the world be to deny their wishes?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock-

The tick of the clock snaps you back to reality like whiplash, your previous thoughts fleeting from your mind in an instant. Your eyes are blurry, everything around you set in a foggy haze. Even aside from daydreaming, everything felt fuzzy. The clock didn’t help with it, the constant noise only setting you on edge more than you already were. 

How long had it been? Hours, maybe? A few minutes? You couldn’t tell, and frankly, you couldn’t care either. Letting out a small sigh, you pinch the skin between your brows, slumping over as you try to ground yourself. You open your eyes after a moment, the blurriness from before subsiding for the most part. Now, you found yourself met with the sight of several manila folders and post-it notes scattered across the mattress you found yourself on. 

Ah, yes- so that’s why you had been up at such an ungodly hour. Your mission. The suicide mission they had assigned you to. Good gods above, how long had you been awake for? Taking in the organized chaos that was your bed currently, it made you grimace. How many files did they have on a single monster? Sure, you wanted to be prepared, but this was absurd. 

However, that apparent thought had never crossed your mind in the previous hours, evidence being the bags forming under your eyes and the overall stiffness of your body. Taking the folder that had found itself on your lap, you flipped it open, reading over the open page. 

“Upon a prior expedition, Piglins seem to be tame around those wearing gold items. Whether it be armor or simple jewelry, they seem to be passive towards those wearing the metal. One scout found themselves near the beasts, but said creatures left him alone upon seeing the gold wedding ring around his finger.”

You squint your eyes, trying to make sense of the next sentence. Was that a Y, or a T? Gods above, you were exhausted. Letting the folder drop back onto your lap, you bring your palms up to your eyes, rubbing harshly to keep a hold of your consciousness. You’d be able to look at the files whilst on the road. Sleep was more important right now if you wanted to survive until the next day.

Knowing the casino’s fellow patrons, they’d probably get a kick out of seeing you leave all drowsy and such. Hell, that wouldn’t come close to how entertaining it would be to them if you didn’t return. With a groan and a sigh, you begin gathering all the files. Paper-clipping a few together here, stapling a few there until the process was complete. Looking at the files stacked together, you really were in over your head. The number of files was making your head dizzy, not counting how sleep-deprived you were in the current moment. 

Placing the folders in a neat stack on the floor beside your bed, you finally let your body relax. Your back falls against the mattress, sinking into it almost instantly. It was nowhere near comfortable on a normal day. The mattress was hard, firm, and wildly uncomfortable, but now? You might as well have been sleeping on a cloud. Before your hazy mind could even process it, you were out like a light, left to your own devices in the world of unconsciousness. 

05:30 in the morning. Who in their right mind decides that the crack of dawn is an appropriate time to wake up? Quackity, apparently, because that’s exactly the person who was pounding relentlessly on your door. The loud and sudden noise is enough to make you jolt upright in your bed. Your foggy mind can’t even process what is happening, much less when he speaks.

“It’s 05:30! Get up! You leave in the next hour, c’mon! You’ll be burning daylight before you know it, so get your ass ‘outta bed!” His shrill voice is enough to get you to peek your eyes open, immediately met with the darkness of the room. With the warm sheets you found yourself in, the comforting dimness of the room, you almost fall back asleep then and there. Almost being our keyword here, because you wouldn’t want to make Quackity mad, now would you?

With a groan, you’re able to kick the sheets off of the bed, successfully leaving you out in the open as the cool air of the room sets across your warm body. It sends a shiver running through you, effectively allowing goosebumps to settle across your skin. The feeling is unpleasant, but that’s the point of it. With minimal effort, you sit yourself up in the bed, immediately regretting your actions. 

Your muscles are tight, making every turn and twist of your body painful. A silent scream rips through your throat as you stretch your arms above your head, only to turn into a satisfied groan as your muscles relax. One would have thought that the richest hotel in the city would at least have comfortable beds, but apparently not. No, instead, you were better off sleeping on the carpet, which you could proudly admit was comfier than your own mattress. 

Looking out the small prison-like window your room provided, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. The sky, a blur of dark blues and purples sprinkled with stars, was your only greeting. You could see the lighter hues begin to peek over the horizon from where you sat. A masterpiece from your window, who would have thought?

Aside from the awe-inducing view, you yourself felt far from it. You had a lot to do in the span of an hour. A short time span, but it was feasible. With hurried motions, you’re able to dress in form-fitting attire; something not too tight, but at the same time not too loose. It was important to wear such clothing in these times. Something too tight could leave you breathless, in this case, vulnerable. If it were to be too loose, it could get caught on something or weigh you down. That shouldn’t have to explain why that would be unfortunate. 

Style aside, you now had to tackle the process that was your files. The ones you had obtained were a copy. They’d never give you the original without a backup in store. That would simply be foolish. Instead, you’d been given a clean copy of said files, all neatly tucked into their respective folders. Of course, that neatness had been your doing alone. 

You made quick use of your time, neatly tucking the folders and files alike into your bag. The bag itself was less of a bag and more of a backpack, however, it served both uses. The fabric was weatherproof, as you liked it. It was strong, not even a tear could be seen over it. It had lasted you all your time here so far. Hopefully, it would survive the rest of the way. 

With your bag fully prepared with your files, clothes, and things of the like, you set out for the armory. Swinging open your door rather roughly, you make your way down the halls, turning here and there and speeding down a flight of steps or two. Checking a clock on the wall as you amble down the halls, you see that you have just under 20 minutes before Quackity is on your ass. Perfect.

With a final descent into the basement of the building, you reach the armory. The place itself is impressive, with one wall lined up entirely with weapons. Guns, crossbows, blades; any weapon of destruction that you wanted was here. The rest of the open room stayed reserved for a shooting range. Was it the smartest option that it was indoors? Maybe not, but would you rather be shooting outside where beasts of unknown origins could hear you? Hell no.

The man running the armory shoots you a look as you enter. Some could interpret it as a glare, but to you, it was nothing short of a hopeful wish for your demise. Unfortunate maybe, but you couldn’t be one to judge. Politely, you offer a wave. Nothing flashy or energetic, simply the bare minimum. 

You don’t look to see if he responds in any way, as you probably wouldn’t be met with anything. Instead, you turn your attention to the wall. They really had any weapon you could need here, didn’t they? Every single one was in pristine condition, that you could see at least. 

You would have never touched a weapon in the old world, that you knew as fact. Why would you if you didn’t have a reason to? Why so much as place a finger upon something that could cause harm, when you could put your efforts into something else? Those thoughts, ones that you used to have, have been long forgotten as of now. 

Taking a moment to admire them, you reach for a sleek, black crossbow. Weighing it in your hands, you press the stock against your shoulder and take a step behind you towards the range. It feels nice in your hands, not too heavy nor light. You take one arrow from the attached quiver, loading it with a quick move of your hand. Turning around, you kneel down and peer through the scope at the hay targets 15 yards away from your current position. 

You hover your finger above the trigger, lining up your sights with the yellow center of the target. At that moment, nothing else matters. Not the man behind the counter, giving you shady looks as he watches you with an unimpressed look. Not that mission, the simple task that weighed your life in its hands like a god. Nothing. The only thing that mattered now was you and the target. 

You steady the crossbow, using your other hand to hold it up. If you missed this, how could you survive in the field? Your eyes arrow in on the small, yellow circle in the center of the target. It wouldn’t be too hard to hit it, considering there was no wind nor monsters chasing you at the moment. You wanted to hit the minuscule black dot in the center. 

With a sharp breath in, you fire. The arrow fires, flying through the arrow and straight towards the target. The man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, watching the arrow as it rips into the target. He lets out an annoyed huff, already heading under the counter to get a full quiver for you. Bullseye.

You smile to yourself softly, the good feeling of accomplishment flowing through you. Letting the weapon rest against your side, you turn back to the wall. With your primary weapon figured out, now you needed a melee and possibly a secondary weapon as well. 

You choose something less flashy for your secondary, simple G17. The pistol isn’t your favorite, but it’d be better to have it than nothing. You had one when you first started out, the damn thing jamming too many times for your liking. Granted, you didn’t have sufficient ammo for the gun, but you’d rather it worked in life-threatening situations than not. 

Now all you needed was a melee weapon. Easier said than done, seeing the sheer amount of different options at your disposal. You didn’t need something flashy, nor did you want it. You let out a quiet laugh as you look over some of the more… unusual options. Good gods, as much as you wanted it, you didn’t need a damn sword with you. 

Looking back to the more tactical options, something catches your eye. A steel hatchet, an awfully beautiful one at that. The dark metal shines against the flickering lights of the armory, the edge of the blade reflecting your own features. You grip the handle, prying it off the wall, and hold it tightly. It was a lot lighter than you’d thought, feeling at home as you curled your fingers around it. 

It was on the smaller side, but that only added to it. Gracefully, you toss it from one hand to the other, feeling the difference between the two. You’d wield it in your dominant hand, but it’s worth the effort to try with both. With a nod to yourself, you grab all three weapons and head to the man behind the counter. 

He’s just as unamused as he looked when you first entered, scrunching up his nose as you place the weaponry on the concrete counter, the items clinking together in the process. He ducks under your line of sight, grumbling to himself. Within a few seconds, he pops back up, all the supplies you’d need in his arms. 

A quiver, hatchet cover, ammo; anything you’d need for however long the mission would be. His tone is bored as he asks for payment, sliding your things across the counter with his hand held out. Reaching into one pocket of your bag, you pull out four poker chips, a mocking smile on either red or blue side. 

His eyes widen as you drop them into his palm, staring at them with confusion. His voice almost hints at that of anger as he speaks up, voice gravelly. “I said two, not four. Are you an idiot?” His eyes are dark when they look into your own. You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, grabbing your things and clipping them to your bag. “Consider it my thanks, Phineas.”

His mouth is agape as you leave, lifting your hand up as a ‘farewell’ while you head out the door. As your footsteps fall heavy against the floor, you contemplate your prior decision. Chips were the casino’s idea of money. You received chips if you did particularly excellent work on something, which was rare for most. Four chips for your safety didn’t seem like too far of a stretch. One would pay the world for their life, would they not?

Your steps echo down the halls as you make your way towards the main door, anxiety bubbling up. Gods, you were going to die on this mission, weren’t you? A solo mission against one of the most powerful beasts you had ever read about? You might as well have been writing your will then and there. The carpet of the lobby muffles your steps, leaving you to listen with no distraction to your racing mind. 

Was this the last time you would step foot in the casino? You squeeze your eyes tightly, stopping in your tracks right in front of the door, letting out a groan. Fuck, you were overthinking this. Even if you didn’t make it to tomorrow, at least you made it this far, right? With a little pep talk to yourself, you push open one of the glass doors and step out into the darkness that lays outside of the casino. 

“Oi.” 

The voice makes you wince involuntarily. Turning to your left, you see the familiar mop of jet black hair leaning up against one of the casino’s walls. Your hands find themselves at your bag’s straps, pulling them tightly against you as you meet his gaze. 

“Quackity.” Your voice comes out small, not something that you liked. His breath comes out in a puff, the cold temperature of the morning making the sight visible. Like a dragon, you think in the back of your mind. The childish thought is tossed aside as he pushes off of the wall, watching as he rubs his hands together and making his way past you. He stops at your side, not looking over at you. No, he just looks ahead as the sun rises behind you. 

“Come back, won’t you?”

⮞ Previous Tape      ⮞⮞⮞      ⮞ Next Tape

⮞ Technoblade Route Taglist - @cutiebear45 @kiki-is-the-name @hololizard @sunshinebutnotrainbows @valkyrieidunn @dominickle @err0rnan0 @lacunaanonymoused @ura-writes @jaciahbabes @mega-trash-cringe​��

⮞ Author’s Note - After long last, another tape! I went through quite the rough patch with this one. It took me a long time to finally find some inspiration, but this is evidence enough that I did somehow. I’m hoping to update next Sunday, possibly earlier, but we’ll have to see what my mind deems fit. 

[moonbaby26]

Title: Epiphany

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. Finally back in the U.S., you and Peter get a mini shopping trip with the others, where you get a special gift for him. Followed by your ride back alone together to his house near D.C. and an abrupt introduction to his family.

Warnings: Mostly just more fluff. Bit of a dysfunctional family implied. Not proofread too well as I didn’t have much free time left and wanted to get this posted.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

You were groggy, legs stiff as you’d finally made it out of that plane. Honestly, when this was all said and done you’d be happy to not travel again for a very long time.

But the important thing was that you were home. Well, sort of. You were getting a lot closer anyway. McGuire air force base in New Jersey was bustling with activity as you’d all been shuffled around after landing.

Moira had said goodbye, staying here to work some more as it seemed this had become a temporary east coast operations point for more than just the air force. But she’d arranged it so you all could take a van off base together to find the nearest rental car lot.

Which that was when you really started feeling this was your last chance to inwardly practice whatever your speech was going to be to Xavier. You were going to volunteer to drive Peter home, splitting off from the others when they’d no doubt be heading north for New York.

The van hadn’t been the most comfortable thing in the world either as you’d all piled into it with Hank driving. Moira had told the Professor to just leave it after you all got something else rented, and that someone from the base would come and get it later.

Besides a little shared complaining from the group about being continually shoved into one thing after another lately, helicopters, to jets, to aircraft carriers, and now this, there wasn’t really too much said though. That silence likely somewhat due to jet lag as well. But when Xavier had signaled to Hank to stop after seeing a bank you were about to pass, that’s when Peter seemed to perk back up.

And by the time this older van had clunked its way into the parking lot and come to a stop, Peter was on the verge of fully laughing.

“What?” Ororo finally asked, Peter sitting between her and you both here in the back of the van.

“Nothing.” Peter respond just as quickly, though still seeming far too entertained as Raven had helped Xavier out of the van and back into his wheelchair before the two of them had gone inside the bank together.

You and Ororo just exchanged an odd glance, before Jean revealed the answer all too easily. “Peter thinks we’d make a terrible cast for a heist movie. He’s thinking about robbing the bank and imagining a poorly executed role for all of us.”

“Hey!” Peter complained. “You really don’t play fair. I think about a lot of things without actually do-”

“Seriously?” Scott asked, looking back at you all.

“Oh, come on. One eye beam and the vault would crack like an egg.” Peter retorted, “Do you guys not ever daydream?”

“About crime?” You questioned.

“I did give the kid his markers back didn’t I?” Peter asked.

“What kid?” Hank looked back as well.

“Oh, except this one.” Peter pulled out the dark blue marker that’d still been stashed in his pocket. “The kid still had a light blue one anyway. He’ll live. You guys need to sign my cast!”

—————————

The Professor had apparently recognized that bank as one he had some accounts with, and you’d assumed he had gone in to withdraw some spending money for the remainder of the trip.

But when Hank drove you all to a nearby department store next instead of continuing on straight to the rental car lot that had been the supposed goal the entire time, you were surprised. Even more so when the Professor had called for you, Jean, Kurt, and Ororo specifically.

“I know this isn’t much,” Charles explained, before passing each of the four of you a small amount of cash. “But the staff staying with the displaced students at the motel did already take them shopping for at least some bare necessities. You deserve the same until we can provide better.”

It was still entirely generous and unexpected though as you’d all exited the van, then fully understanding the point of this additional pit stop. With the destruction of the mansion, and with Ororo not even being from here, the four of you now had not a single possession to your names except the Air Force issued clothing you’d left the aircraft carrier with.

Scott and Peter were a little bit different story, Scott was expected to go back home with his parents for a while and no doubt everything he still had there, and Peter having lost nothing really except the one outfit that had burnt up in the jet’s crash in Egypt.

But you knew a little better of how he felt about that, not missing the way Peter was already eyeing things as the two of you had split off from the rest of the group once entering the department store.

Your only real goal was at least getting a comfortable pair of tennis shoes to replace the awful boots they’d given you and a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, socks, and underwear. Just the very minimum, that was fine for you.

You tried to be quick, knowing it was still a little unfair to make Peter just watch you shop when he could take nothing for himself. Albeit, you doubted much here was really his style anyway.

You did half expect him to give you a harder time as well on your own choices, but found him quite distracted as you’d walked back and forth looking at one rack then another of clothes.

Finally you realized why, catching him still lingering at a glass display case you’d already passed more than once as you then circled back to him with a bit of clothing in your arms.

As you came up to stand beside him, you looked down to see the multiple men’s watches all glinting up in the light from beneath the glass.

You smiled, putting two and two together easily enough as you glanced back to him and that clearly longing expression on his face. “Which one do you like?”

He blinked, just seeming to realize your attention was back on him then as he tried to look nonchalant. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not going to steal it if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

“It’s what Mr. Smiley over there, the store detective was thinking.” Peter commented a little more quietly, just motioning his eyes to a man standing off to the side.

The man didn’t look “smiley” at all of course, appearing to consider the same display of pants over and over as he’d pick one size up and then put it back down as if he wasn’t watching you both.

You chose to ignore the stranger, just reiterating back to Peter instead. “Come on, which one do you want?”

You could see by the tags that they weren’t exactly cheap, but certainly weren’t Rolex’s either. This was doable.

But Peter only met eyes with you again. “Seriously, I can get one later. I’ll live.”

His old watch had been destroyed. And you hadn’t forgotten what importance it had to him. “That wasn’t the point.” Already deciding you were sure about this, you dug back into your pocket, pulling out money and putting it on the glass in front him.

“I’m going to go put some of these clothes back, get somebody’s attention to come open the case for you.”

He stared, trying to turn around to stop you, but you were already out of his reach as you smiled, just disappearing back behind some nearby clothing racks.

You intentionally took longer than necessary as well as you did put back enough of the clothes to make up for the money you’d given him. You wanted to make sure he really did follow through with having them get one of the watches out before you’d come anywhere near again.

It took a while, but he must have finally relented, unable to resist the temptation, and reinforcing your thought that he really had seen one he especially wanted as you’d finally wandered over once more just as the saleswoman had been handing it over to him.

She rang it up then and there at the counter as he’d immediately put it on that empty spot on his left wrist.

Curious, you’d tried to get a better look at which one he’d picked, moving closer before he suddenly swung his right arm out, catching you around the shoulders and pulling you even closer even with the awkwardness of his crutch still under that arm.

You felt a warm kiss planted just as fast on your cheek before you could respond. The saleswoman giving you both an odd look as Peter only grinned to you. “Thanks, babe. I’ll make it up to you at some point. Promise.”

You moved slightly, not really caring about the money or the stares of any of the store staff as you still tried to get a look at the watch, grabbing his hand. “Well which one did you get?”

He let you take his hand easily, grasping his fingers around your own in return as he tilted his wrist to let you get a good view. “Check it out, digital face, but it counts seconds and hundredths of a second. And you can change it to stopwatch mode too. Also water resistant to 100 meters...though not quite sure when I’d need that.”

“Jean said the motel the others were staying at has a pool,” You commented lightly, though still looking at the bright, silver colored metal watch band and face. “Quicksilver.” You added absently, reading the model name also etched there.

He paused, “What did you say?”

“Oh, the pool? Jean said the Professor mentioned that, though he still is looking for some place less rundown-”

“No, what you said after.”

“Huh?” You glanced back up.

“Quick what?”

“Oh.” You realized, turning your hand which was still holding his so the etching would better face him as well. “That must be the model.”

He must have not even noticed until that point, also reading it then. But he pulled you in even a little closer then as he leaned his head against yours, seeming to contemplate something.

“What?” You asked.

“I think I just had a...hell, what do you call them? Epitaph?”

Your eyebrows raised, looking at him in real confusion then. “Um...like on a gravestone?”

“No, no.” He was still trying to find the word. “Dammit, when the light bulb goes off you know...like something hits you and it’s awesome!”

“Epiphany?” You questioned after another moment, though still highly unsure of where this was going.

“Yes! Totally!” He let go of your hand then, before giving an awkward high five as you hadn’t been expecting it.

But you were still thoroughly confused, even as the saleswoman had now excused herself, gladly wandering off to assist other customers. And even the store detective just coughed somewhere in the distance, finding you both no longer a theft threat as much as just just two more weird young people he was not going to ever understand.

——————————

If anyone noticed that the amount of things you rang up were visibly less than what Jean, Ororo, and Kurt had gotten, no one said anything.

Soon enough you were all back in the van again, but Peter kept admiring the watch still. The odd beep and chime going off on it every now and then as he played with its functions.

It was evident enough, that even the Professor finally looked back at him. Which Peter noticed as well just grinning. “I didn’t steal it.” He proclaimed proudly.

“I know you didn’t,” Xavier answered, but then giving you an odd look next.

You tried to smile back, but weren’t sure if this might now be the time to bring up your plan or not with the Professor’s attention on you. Yet before you could think to say anything more, Peter just added happily. “Oh, and Prof., if you do reboot the X-Men, I’m Quicksilver. So I call dibs on that, the rest of you will have to think of your own stuff. Though I’m pretty creative, I can help for maybe a small fee if you need inspiration.”

“Seriously?” You answered, just turning your head to look at Peter then.

But you were even more surprised when Xavier actually looked impressed for a moment. “Quicksilver? Hmm. An old nickname for liquid mercury. Which of course in the Roman pantheon, Mercury was also the god of trickery, thieves, and often depicted with wings on his feet as the fastest of the gods. He-”

“Uh.” Peter interrupted. “I was more thinking that my hair is silver and I’m quick. Also this badass watch (Y/N) bought me says that on it. But that god stuff is cool too I guess.”

You heard Raven about snort laughing as the Professor’s thoughtful expression quickly faded. “Fair enough.”

—————————

By the time you did reach the rental car lot, you tried to get Xavier’s attention before he could go inside the rental office with Raven. You almost jogged up to him actually, that worried about missing your chance.

Yet as you reached him, you saw him wave Raven off, telling her he would be just a moment. She only shrugged, walking ahead inside.

Before you could even open your mouth though, he just gave you another curious look. “You know, for all your worrying about this, it’s the ride home that I’m more concerned about. You realize from Washington D.C. back to New York, that’s going to be about a five hour drive all on your own.”

You don’t know why you felt any surprise. Honestly it was more of a relief though that you didn’t have to explain everything from scratch. Having a psychic as a father figure had its benefits at times, if otherwise you felt you would have difficulty communicating something.

“I promise I’ll call as soon as I get to Peter’s and again when I leave?” You offered with hope.

“I’d really feel better if you had one of the others to ride back with...” He countered, but giving a sympathetic look. “You know, of all my students, I just...you really are one of the last I’d expect to befriend him this way. And I say that with me actually being quite fond of him. Though admittedly I did think him just a pain in the arse when I first met him. I didn’t have my powers then though to see any deeper. So it wasn’t the best first impression to be honest.”

You both glanced over at Peter who now seemed preoccupied with playing with those stolen sunglasses as he just chatted with the others. He’d agreed to let you plea the case to Xavier on your own, thinking you could probably be the more sincere and convincing of the two of you.

“I think he’d really like to come to the school once everything’s rebuilt,” You added, looking back to the Professor.

“Yes, I know.” Xavier agreed. “He’s really hit it off with you all. He’s enjoyed this despite everything else. It’s nice to see, really. Though...I do still worry about the inevitably of his father returning. There will still be a lot to unpack there. And Erik may not want him at the school as much as Erik’s always disagreed with some of my worldviews.”

You frowned a little, having not thought about Magneto in quite a while now. “If he cares about Peter at all though, you’d think he’d realize it’d be better for him to be somewhere he had friends. Where he’s happy...”

“One would hope.” Xavier answered, but then looking to you once more. “You’re sure about this aren’t you? Determined to make the drive back alone?”

“I mean, if anyone tried to give me trouble, I could always use my powers.” Yet you still smirked, parroting his teaching you’d heard for years. “But still as discreetly as possible of course.”

He took a breath, that concern still not leaving his expression even as he relented. “You have come a long way since that little child I met all those years ago.”

“I wasn’t that little.” You smiled, knowing full well which day he was remembering. When you’d been sitting, feeling abandoned in that airport as your real father had been explaining again this place you were being sent to in New York. Saying he’d call you all the time once you got there, all the while you knew he never would.

That’d been the first day you’d ever met Charles. When your own family was too afraid of you, when they were far happier to have you move across the country. But Xavier had flown all the way there just to share the plane ride back to New York, with your stubborn, silent self.

Abruptly you leaned down, putting your arms around the Professor’s shoulders as you hugged him. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” You said, knowing full well how close you all had come to losing him only a few days ago.

He laughed lightly, but returned the gesture even though he was a little surprised. “Or you’re just happy to get your way. Do be careful alright? Both of you.”

“I promise. Thank you.” You smiled, really meaning it before you let go of him to stand back up.

As you did so, you could see Peter looking your way. He gave a questioning expression, then turning his thumb down then up as if to ask the results.

You smirked, nodding as him thumb went up to confirm the Professor had agreed with your plan.

“Sweet!” You heard Peter exclaim from all the way over there.

————————

Xavier had given you the phone number to the motel in New York that the others were driving to. They’d gotten another van, though thankfully a little newer than the beaten up government one they were now leaving behind.

A car had been rented for you and Peter. A blazing red thing you now leaned against as you waited for him. You’d already said your goodbyes, which were pretty brief as you expected to see the others again soon.

You were still close enough to overhear as Peter got to Scott however. It caught your attention as you’d heard Peter’s tone change.

“Hey, man...I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t get your brother out.”

It was the first time you’d heard Peter talk about that specifically with Scott. But when would have been the right time?

Yet Peter kept on pretty quickly, the awkwardness obviously still there even with that hint of guilt. “If um, if I lived closer you know, or I wasn’t in this damn thing-” He’d motioned to his cast. “I’d run up there and go to the service too. I mean, I know how important siblings are...”

Scott seemed a little taken aback himself, but shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. None of it would have happened if it wasn’t for that psycho god, whatever we want to call him. And he got his. It’s all we can do.”

You could hear the little bit of waver in Scott’s voice though, and you knew the sad reality would likely be that it still wouldn’t fully hit him that Alex was truly gone until Scott was back home with his parents, and his brother was glaringly absent.

But Peter just patted him on the shoulder before walking back to you on his crutches.

His eyes were still a bit sad, but he smiled at you as he neared you. “Well, ready for a roadtrip, babe?”

“They gave us a road atlas, so I think so.” You answered, already walking to open the passenger door for him.

“Ah, maps are for suckers.” He answered, handing you his crutches so he could sit down in the seat. “Sure, it’ll look way different going so slow, but I have an excellent sense of direction.”

“Uh huh,” You responded with a healthy bit of skepticism. “We’ll see.”

—————————

“So...we’re finally alone.” Peter said, still snacking on whatever brightly colored candy that actually was that you’d grabbed from the gas station for him.

“Sure, and going seventy miles an hour on the interstate, while I need to keep my hands on the wheel and eyes on the road to not kill us, yes.” You answered.

“It’s practically a straight line, it about drives itself.” He responded, but while just fiddling with the radio for the umpteenth time.

Every time a station went to commercial, it was clear he couldn’t handle the wait for the music to come back, only trying to find something else to listen to right away.

You finally laughed a little as he’d accidentally found some other talk show yet again.

“What?”

“I’m waiting for that dial to fall off in your hand.”

“Man, you think one of these gas stations has some cassettes or something?”

“I have no idea.”

“Hey, are you hungry yet?”

You shrugged. “I could probably eat.” The bit of food on the plane had been pretty awful. You hadn’t even finished it.

“I need to pee anyway.”

“Again?” You glanced at him. “That’s gotta be the Mountain Dew.”

“Oh yeah, that’s all gone.” He shook his empty cup, just the sound of ice jostling around in it. “I’m thinking Dr. Pepper now...and a cheeseburger. Maybe McDonalds?”

“Sure.” It really didn’t matter to you. All those fast food places were all about the same. “Golden Arches it is then...let me know if you see an exit with one and I’ll-”

“There was one.” He pointed as it went right by.

“Um...one with a little more notice please.”

“Got it. I’m on watch, captain.” He gave a little mocking salute, before pulling his sunglasses back down as if that would somehow help his focus as he stared out to all the upcoming exit signs ahead.

——————————

He was adamant about going inside to eat instead of just going through the drive thru once you did find the next McDonalds. You wondered if he was trying to stretch out your time together a little more.

Which you would have no complaints if so, now laughing as you sat at a table inside. You’d seen the odd looks an older couple had given you as they’d come in, and Peter was fairly certain it was due to his silver hair.

“I mean I could always try a mohawk, full on punk if they think this is too weird,” He commented, pulling some of the silver bangs back in front his face as he chewed on some fries. “I still think Ororo’s is badass, but I don’t know if I have the right head shape for it. What do you think?”

“What head shape is a person supposed to have?” You asked, seriously not knowing, but still smiling.

“Of course even the best hair gel doesn’t hold up too well when I run. It probably wouldn’t stay up long.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey, are you even listening to me or just admiring the view?” He grinned in what you were sure was supposed to be his attempt at a dashing look, albeit with a little bit of ketchup still at the corner of his mouth.

“Can’t I do both?” You answered wryly, just taking another sip of your drink.

“You gonna stay for a little bit after we get to my house?” He asked abruptly then.

“Well I wasn’t planning on just throwing you in the yard and driving away. But it is a decent drive back to New York.”

“You could spend the night.”

You quieted, that warmth rising back in your chest. But you didn’t think he meant it that way. You chose to believe that anyway.

“Well it’s not like we haven’t slept together before.” He continued.

“Slept in the same bed.” You quickly corrected. “In the same bed. With clothes on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Semantics. And it was nice, right?”

“It was.” You admitted. But that didn’t mean the chance was going to come again anytime soon. “And semantics? Really? After trying to remember the difference between epitaph and epiphany?”

“Hey! I shine every now and then. It’s not always a swing and a miss.” He gave a pretend pouting look. “Fancy private schooler picking on a poor high school dropout, come on.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll have much reason to study anytime soon.” You admitted. “This was a really dramatic way to get out of my organic chemistry final.”

And he really did look pleased at that. “So you’ll have plenty of time to hang out with the bad influence that is Pietro once I get this cast off. You said that place had a pool right? Sounds like a party.”

—————————

Traffic hadn’t been too terrible the rest of the way. And you’d only gotten turned around a couple times, despite his self proclaimed excellent sense of direction.

Even though you knew it’d been hours, it didn’t feel that way at all. You both mostly just talking about whatever, or even when it was quiet, just listening to the music he chose.

It wasn’t all even rock music to your surprise. He seemed to like just about everything. But when you recognized a song as a favorite of your own, you did notice how his excitement grew a little. You wondered how often if at all he’d really gotten to share that love of music with anyone else.

By the time you’d gotten off the interstate again and the roads started to get smaller and smaller, you knew you must be getting close even before you started to see houses here and there.

“Hey, woah up for a second,” He said raising his hand abruptly.

You did so, but only gently pulling to a stop on the side of the street to not block any other traffic as you looked over at him.

Not that there were any other cars. You thought maybe you saw someone walking their dogs in the distance.

But he didn’t say anything for a moment, just taking his sunglasses off again as he turned his head to meet your gaze.

“What?” You asked as another song started on the radio. It was slow, but you thought you’d heard it somewhere before.

“It’s just around the corner.” He looked almost sad for a moment though, before suddenly smiling again. “My house I mean. You’re going to come inside, right?”

“Well...yeah, as long as that’s okay with your Mom anyway.” But even as you answered, a new bit of nervousness found you. What if she blamed you when she saw he’d been hurt though? Would she think you or your friends were dangerous? You’d never thought of that until this moment actually.

You blinked when you felt his hand touch your face, drawn back out of your thoughts as that song continued on in the background.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked then.

But you just tilted your head slightly in question. It’s not like he’d ever truly asked before. Though you could never really tease someone for wanting continued permission.

And was he nervous too? Knowing he was about to be home again and that this would be over, at least for the time being?

You unbuckled your seatbelt easily enough, leaning across the center console as he did the same.

The kiss was soft though as you closed your eyes. His hand moved gently behind your neck as he held you in close. It felt just as good as the times before.

But you knew there wasn’t much more either of you could do now. You both had to go home.

He was the one that finally pulled back, just looking at you contentedly for a moment before he shifted fully back into his seat.

“You know, my Mom’s going to think I’m full of shit if I say I made any friends...and more than a friend too.”

“You can call me whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with,” you said honestly. It’d just be easier, because you didn’t know what was right or wrong either.

Whatever happened, you were just grateful for what you’d already had. How could you not be?

—————————

The black mailbox with Maximoff lettered on the side came up soon enough as you pulled carefully into the driveway, before throwing the transmission into park and killing the ignition.

It was a neat little house, with hedges on the side of the property line and some white patio furniture you could just see up a small incline with decorative stones leading up to it.

The house was also directly across from a public green space with jogging or walking paths weaving between several trees it looked like. Which was a little amusing as you wondered if Peter ever used them.

After you’d gotten out, you rounded around the back of the car, pulling Peter’s crutches from the backseat. He’d already opened the passenger door and stood up as well, before you realized the front door of the house was also opening.

“Peter!” You heard a woman call, and you looked up to see a little bit older woman with dark blond hair now rushing down the steps.

Her arms flung around him as soon as she got close enough, holding him like that for only a moment before she pulled back away. “They wouldn’t tell me anything! Those assholes in the suits, whoever they were! They wouldn’t even tell me where you were-” She looked down, “God, your leg, are you hurt anywhere else?” But then just as quickly her eyes were on his face again, critically, “He did it, didn’t he? I told you! I told you he would hurt you and you don’t listen, this whole time I haven’t slept, do you know that!?”

“Mom!” Peter finally exclaimed, trying to get a word in, as he grabbed her shoulders. “They were CIA, I just told them to tell you I was okay. It hasn’t exactly been a breeze getting back home, this was the best I could do. And it wasn’t Dad, he didn’t-”

“Like hell! Did you see San Francisco? Did you see New York City!? Buildings ripped apart, Peter! Who else could do that!? It’s all the news can talk about, he-”

“It wasn’t just him! Would you just listen for-”

“You could have been killed!” She yelled, her voice almost echoing now off the side of the house as you just stood there still holding his crutches.

You felt entirely invisible to be honest as the two of them just continued, only focused on one another in their arguing.

It was so loud actually that you didn’t even hear someone else then walking up behind you from the park across the street. You didn’t know they were there at all before their voice was almost right beside you.

“Who are you?”

You startled at the question, turning your head to see a young woman now standing there. Her eyes were dark and guarded, the very first thing you noticed honestly as you reflexively took a step back closer to the car.

“Wanda! You’re here!” You heard Peter’s voice rise again though. “A little help here please!”

But Peter’s mother only kept on. “You leave your sister out of this! She’s not the one that ran off after a sociopath and disappeared for days!”

“He’s our father!” He yelled back.

Yet the girl with the long auburn hair kept her attention on you for another moment. “Well whoever you are, you’re probably going to regret coming here.”

You could only remain silent though after that as she just walked on to her mother and brother.

She hugged Peter abruptly, working her way between the two even in their fighting. “I knew you were alright. I could still feel you, even though Mom didn’t believe me. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t an idiot.”

Peter seemed to calm some at Wanda’s touch though, just responding. “You have no idea. I punched a god in the face. It’s a long story.”

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here.)

[todoscript]

seeing you dressed as a cat for your first halloween together

character: shinsou hitoshi. genre: suggestive. warnings: mature. implied sexual content.

anonymous requested: shinsous reaction to seeing reader dress as a cat for their first halloween together? maybe he’s just become brave enough and started to call her “kitty/kitten”, so reader sees how far she can push him in her costume?? 😳🤭

author’s note: didn’t mean for it to get this long, but y’know. scenario portion underneath the cut!

shinsou hitoshi

your first halloween as a couple is celebrated a year after you and class a had graduated from u.a.

shinsou and you have been together since then, starting dating after you both confessed your long time crushes enduring throughout high school before forming a committed relationship while in the spring of your hero work

for this year’s halloween, the u.a. alumni had decided on a reunion/get-together to celebrate the occasion of spooks and sweets—a longstanding tradition you all just couldn’t seem to let go of despite now being fledging heroes out on the field

yes, this year, the group was planning a festive, joint halloween party along with former class b

of course, you made a point that the two of you would definitely be there the night of the 31st

and like every halloween party, everyone knows it’d be absolute heresy not to dress up in the spirit of the event

the most challenging part, however, was choosing which costume to wear

you thought the idea would come naturally to you, that it wouldn’t be much of a problem finding the character or creature you’d like to parade into the party as 

with a dash of makeup and some advice from the girls, you’re sure you could pull off any look, so long as the ensemble wasn’t too extravagant for your liking 

yes, something subtle, yet enticing seemed about right—a costume, that when thrown together, read “effortless” the moment you saunter down into the party with a grin painted on lips and confidence oozing out of your presence

though as much as you’d like to impress those attending, you’d be doubtlessly lying to yourself if you weren’t extra indecisive about your attire this year due to the keen eyes of your indigo-haired boyfriend

it is your first halloween together after all, and what better way to enjoy the event than to rile shinsou up, right?

now, it was only the matter of what got him the most hot and bothered—what’d you have to wear to have his heart fluttering and every nerve in his body receptive at just a simple glance at you?

and that’s when it hits you

ah, you thought, a couple of nights before the awaited event, why didn’t i think of this sooner?

- - - - -

Shinsou arrives at the foot of your apartment door the very evening the moon begins hanging in the sky, beholding all the festivities taking place on the anticipated thirty-first of October from its darkening haven.

He nearly trips on his way there, his costume’s frayed bandages dragging behind his feet. As anyone would have guessed, Shinsou decides to tackle the event tonight as your run-of-the-mill mummy—covered head to toe in an assortment of dreary-colored wrappings. Though far from flashy, the costume gets the job done without him having to put too much effort to look presentable, and that is enough for him.

Having texted you about his arrival at your doorstep already, Shinsou lets himself in using the spare key to your apartment you gave him a couple of months ago.

“Y/n? I’m here, are you ready yet?” His voice rings across the expanse of your residence, traveling across the thresholds and penetrating through your room, muffled by the closed door.

“Not quite, but I’m almost done! Wait for me on the couch, Toshi!” He hears you yell in response. Your voice is equally stifled but heard nonetheless. As told, he plants himself comfortably on the couch in your humble living space.

Leg folded over the other, his hands naturally find themselves playing with the edges of his bandages between the minutes ticking by. He checks his phone after the fifth-minute passes, acting wary about the time and pondering how long it would take to reach the party from your current location. Though in all honesty, he never truly cared much about punctuality. Shinsou has never really been a party guy himself, but he’d parade through this shindig just for you if it made you happy. Plus, it is your first Halloween together, after all. It only feels right to indulge in the festivities this year.

Speaking of, right after he presses his phone to sleep mode, he detects the footfalls of your heels clicking against the floor. It seizes his attention to look up and greet you; however, the words barely prevail past his throat at what stands before him.

“Hey, kitten—” His pet name for you is the last discernible thing uttered. You have to giggle at the way Shinsou’s eyes widen while he rakes over your form scrupulously, absorbing every detail available in his line of vision.

You stand at the threshold of your hallway clad in a tight, dark leopard printed suit that molds perfectly against your body—emphasizing its luscious curves—and paired with a set of black cat ears perched atop your head. Your makeup is executed in a way in which the look is sophisticated yet enticing, eyelids smoked in subtle shadows, and lavish lips lined crimson. Shinsou especially doesn’t miss the faint whisker markings drawn across your cheeks. 

“Yes~?” you reply playfully, tone teetering the line of innocent and mischievous as you turn around and show him a tease of a view, where he finds the cat tail hanging limply behind your beautiful ass. The way his teeth chafe the delicate skin of his bottom lip doesn’t go unnoticed as it urges you to continue playing along.

“What’s the matter, Toshi? Cat got your tongue? Your kitten’s right here,” you follow with a purr reverberating the roof of your mouth. It isn’t long until Shinsou catches on your act. There’s a shift in his violet eyes that glints darkly as you tauntingly spin your faux tail in place.

“Well come here then, kitty.” He motions you toward him in a hithering gesture. You give him a small show by swaying your hips, gliding in his direction. Drinking in your approaching form, he parts his legs, allowing you to stand between them.

Coming out of your room dressed like this, you knew what you were in for, and you’re positively elated by his reaction at your thoughtfully planned out costume.

Being that Shinsou’s few weaknesses consisted of cats and his girlfriend, it’s only natural that the man simply can’t seem to keep his hands off you, witnessing the best of both worlds before him. While his hands roam across the leopard print fabric veiled on your skin, you fiddle with the ragged bandages wrapped listlessly around his head, an amused grin on your lips.

“I see Pro Hero Mindjack decided to be a mummy this Halloween. It very much fits you, Hitoshi,” you comment. You manage to retain the stability in your voice despite Shinsou’s grabby hands pawing the back of your thighs, slowly wavering to the bottom of your ass.

“Mm, not as much as this suit fits you. Kitten, you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss against your lower abdomen.

You continue, musing, “Oh? So I’m only gorgeous to you dressed as a cat then?”

Shinsou shakes his head coolly. “Of course not. You’re always so beautiful to me, you know that. But damn, sweetheart, you really outdid yourself tonight, dressing up as a naughty cat on Halloween. Just who gave you the idea?”

He palms the globes of your ass in his large hands, which sprouts a chuckle from you before you bend down to plant a delicate peck on his lips, mindful not to smear the freshly coated pigment on your own.

“You, of course,” you answer, honest about the appeal his pet name evoked for you to go about your choice of attire tonight. “Now come on, we have a party to get to, don’t we?”

Shinsou narrows his brows at your last statement, remembering your plans for the night. The image of you strutting down an aisle of partygoers—each of their deviating eyes staring at what’s clearly his—rubs him the wrong way. He’s never pegged himself overly possessive of you, but this costume of yours is much too delectable to be eaten up by anyone else’s eyes. So to be completely blunt, he doesn’t want to share.

As soon as you make a move to turn around to head toward the door, you’re foiled by two tattered arms wound on your waist that effectively pull you onto the couch.

Situated in the empty slot between Shinsou’s thighs, his mouth maneuvers to your right ear to whisper huskily, “Y’know… We could just celebrate Halloween together here. Alone.”

There’s an evident suggestion in his tone that you truthfully expected out of him. To his chagrin, however, you don’t allow him to indulge in his revelries yet.

“Ah-ah Mummy Man, we got all dolled up and everything—”

“Correction, kitty cat, you got dolled up, I did the bare minimum,” he counters, “and quite frankly, I wouldn’t mind getting out of these annoying bandages already.”

Aware it’s going to take a little more to get Shinsou to budge from his seat, you decide to bring out the heavy artillery. 

“Yes, but we did give them our word that we’d be there…” you reason, voice sounding sweeter to his ears that he starts wavering his stance. “And I want to see everyone in all their costumes. C’mon, please?”

Damn, for a sexy little thing, you sure know how to immediately flip a switch and act all cute. And how is he to resist when you’re fluttering your long lashes and bestowing him the sanguine light in your eyes. You watch as the fight within him gradually dissipates into dust until he demurely shrugs his shoulders in defeat.

“Fine, let’s get this Halloween party over with,” he grumbles, and you tip his white flag with a kiss on his cheek when he glances away.

“Mm thanks, Toshi, I’ll make sure to reward you handsomely tonight, alright?” Your promises bloom heat in his cheeks, evolving into anticipation throughout his body.

“And who knows… maybe you can find some different usages for those mummy wrappings of yours later.”

[captmickey]

✏️ Either “Take it easy, you hit your head.” or “Wake up! Wake up!”. Writer’s choice!

“Hallucinations are a common side effect when it comes to toxins.” Muriel explained to the captain of the guards. “Depending on the severity, it could be as simple as a bad daydream to being absolutely convinced it’s real.”

“I see.” Gideon pondered, his arms behind his back as he glanced at the bedside to the labored breathing new cadet. “How long do toxins usually last?”

“Again, it depends.” She shrugged. “Normal toxins, in small amounts, are just a few hours at most. Nothing too serious. However… this is unique. Chester and I never had to handle hydra toxins.”

“Is that so?”

“We’ve only read about it.” Chester chimed in, walking in with an arm full of various vials and jars. “Not like we’ve had any patients to treat and see first hand. Usually they’re Hydra Chow by then.”

“Chester!” Muriel snapped, but it didn’t deter her husband from humming over to a table and placing everything down. She let out a huff and shook her head. “He is right, though.”

Gideon, thankful for his helmet to obscure his expression, winced. 

It was already unheard of for a cadet applying for the guard position to go after something menacing, usually a wedzel wolf or even a badger sufficed. Anything more, well, that was normally reserved for those applying for the knighthood. It was a requirement to hunt down something ferocious with wolves being the absolute bare minimum, they needed to prove that they could handle any beasts while out on patrol. Not guards though… they needed to be strong, true, but they were the final lines of defense of knights failed, and in Daventry’s long running history, it was never a case where the guards had to fight back.

Yet, laying there in the cot, sweating profusely and looking positively flushed, was the one cadet who went up against a hydra. And lived.

It was only natural that Gideon had to see the applicant himself. He briefly read his files, graduated top of his class, passed the written exam in flying colors and now… now he made Royal Guard history for his entry eye. In his entire career as a captain, never had he heard someone going above and beyond for a position of a guard. A knight? Naturally. But a guard?

“What’s hydra boy’s name, anyways?” Chester asked. 

“Hm?” Gideon looked over at the man. “Oh. I need to look at the file again.” He flipped a folder open, skimming through it quickly. “I believe it’s–” he stopped when he heard the cadet stirring and began gripping his arm, curling up as his breathing got louder and faster. 

Gideon looked over at the Hobblepotts, pushing aside any formalities and getting right to the point. “What’s going on?”

“Toxins.” Muriel answered just as bluntly. “It’s been like this since Wente and Amaya dropped him here. 

And that was well over two hours ago, according to Number 91. 

“He’ll be asleep for a while and then it’ll flare up.” She continued, moving around the room and picking the vials without second guessing while Chester quietly and efficiently began mixing the ingredients together

He wanted to ask how he could assist, it was a guard’s job to help the residents of Daventry, and seeing as the cadet was part of his brigade, he felt that he needed to assist all the more, but instead heard a small whimper escape. He looked at the curled up cadet who was shaking, gripping his bandaged arm tightly, switching between muttering and whimpering under his breath. In the distance, he heard the Hobblepotts passing to each other various ingredients, asking for a jar of something or another, undoubtedly trying to figure out a remedy for the toxins, but his attention was sharply focused on the cadet.

 “G… go away… go away…” the cadet pleaded in a raspy voice. “Please… go….”

Gideon was confused, but still tried to reach out. “Cadet…?”

The captain jumped slightly as the cadet’s eyes opened, panic rapidly taking over as he tried pushing himself away, arm still gripped tightly. “S-stay back… stay back, it’s there… it’s there!”

“What’s there?” Gideon looked, trying to follow the cadet’s line of vision but saw he was staring at nothing… at least, nothing apparent to the captain. 

“It’s there… it’s there… it’s–!” The cadet nearly sounded hysteric as he tried stumbling out of the cot. “I can’t stay…!”

“Stop him from moving!” Muriel ordered, pointing a finger at Gideon. “Hold him down and whatever you do, don’t let him go!”

Gideon could only nod in understanding and moved over quickly to the cot, grabbing hold of him and holding the young man close. Instead of calming him, he only heard a desperate cry erupt from the cadet, struggling even harder to get out of his grip. 

“Let go! Let go of me…!” He cried out. “The hydra is right there…!”

“There’s nothing there, cadet! Wake up!” Gideon ordered, hoping that his words would somehow reach him. Not only did it fail, but he struggled harder in his arms. “Wake up!”

“He won’t be able to hear or see you, captain.” Chester then spoke. “That’s pure toxins that are taking over… you can see it in the fog in his eyes.”  

He looked and to his shock and horror saw the slight discolor of the cadet’s eyes, it nearly looked grey. Still, he refused to budge, refused to let go, instead he held tight to the crying cadet who was so desperate to escape that it damn well struck a chord in the captain. He tried whispering, trying to calm the young man, but it fell on deaf ears, just as Chester had said would happen.

Muriel walked over with a cup and eyed the cadet. “Do me a favor and hold his head still for me, dear.”

Gideon eyed her, then the cup, and then the cadet. Nodding, he apologized as he locked the cadet in place, wincing at the cries of desperation before Muriel forcefully made him drink what was in the cup. 

“What did–”

“Hush.”

Gideon furrowed his brows before realizing the struggling movements, the loud pleading… it all melted into silence, leaving the captain holding onto the slumped and now unconscious cadet in his arms. He looked at Muriel, wanting to know what she did.

“Snoozing feather. Does wonders to knock people out.” She placed the cup to the side. “Don’t worry, he won’t wake with any headaches or side effects. If anything, he should be asleep for a while.”

“I see.” Gideon muttered, realizing he hadn’t let go of the cadet whose head was resting against his chest armor. He sighed in relief and looked at Muriel. “Thank you. And, if it’s alright with you, I would like to stay put… in case he wakes.”

“Of course, dear. You’re more than welcome to stay.” She nodded and turned around to Chester, the two whispering to themselves.

Still holding him, Gideon looked at the table, spotting the file he placed down in a hurry (and truthfully had no recollection of ever placing down) and read the name of the cadet in his arms.

“You’re truly something else, Ken.”

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi Week Day 3: Bleeding Out

Gift For: @alumort

For You

@kakashiweek

Words: 2195

Warnings: Blood Tw, Near Death experience.

Pairing: Kakagai (can be read as platonic or romantic. it's up to the reader)

The battlefield is a blur. Even Obito’s sharingan struggles to keep up with the speed of all of the enemy’s movements, just barely giving Kakashi the information he needs to dodge an attack or to strike at the perfect moment.

Winning feels like an impossible task, but he continues moving. This wasn’t a fight that he was willing to lose easily.

Not when Gai’s life was on the line.

“Nice try!” Hearing a triumphant call from his best friend, Kakashi risked a glance. A moment to check-in and make sure that everything was alright, and just in time to see Gai planting his foot into the enemy’s face. Sending him stumbling back with a bloody, most likely very broken, nose. “It will take more than that for-”

The rest of Gai’s words faded into the background when Obito’s eye locked onto an incoming attack. The sight of sharp steel gleaming in the sunlight made his blood run cold, and the target was clear.

Gai.

Kakashi’s body moved without thought. Kunai coming up to guard against the incoming attack. To protect Gai, no matter what. That was his goal. The only goal that mattered at this moment.

Steel clashed, a struggle for victory between Tanto and Kunai while Kakashi stared down his enemy. It didn't take long for the victor to be decided, and unfortunately for Kakashi, this one wasn’t his battle to win. Feeling his hand giving out, he watched as the Kunai was flung off to the side. Decoration for the dirt until the battle was done.

The enemy’s speed didn’t give even for a second. His eye followed the tanto as the enemy pulled it back, leaving his body to react on instinct rather than logic. Lightning sparked in his hand, a desperate last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his friend.

The warmth of fresh blood is a feeling that’s all too familiar to Kakashi. The way it drips from his fingers, staining his hand the same as every shinobi who has met their end on Kakashi’s chidori.

The coldness though, that’s a feeling he doesn’t experience a lot.

A feeling that could only be compared to being thrown headfirst into a frozen river, his fingers ache when he tries to move them. The warm blood provided no relief to the sheer cold that settled into his bones.

“I won’t allow y-you-” His words faltered, sharp pain in his own chest suddenly making its presence known. Lowering his eyes, he stared down at his enemies’ tanto. Cold steel buried deep inside of his chest, mirroring his own attack against the enemy.

There’s no response to his words, and when he risks a glance upward he can see why. The only thing keeping the enemy’s body up is Kakashi’s hand. A limb struck through a now lifeless body, refusing to allow it to crumple to the ground.

At least if he died here he could say he wasn’t the first one to fall.

Removing his hand carefully, he ignored the slight tremble in his fingers. A response to the memories that came with the attack. No longer being held up by Kakashi, the enemy’s body crumpled to the ground. Lifeless and forgotten in favour of the much more pressing matter of his own wound.

“Kakashi?” Gai’s back pressing against his is another familiar feeling, though a lot more comforting than any of the other ones he had experienced in the last few minutes. “I appreciate the protection, and I’d appreciate it a lot more if you told me that you were uninjured.”

Just like Gai. Always worried about Kakashi when he needed to focus on the battle, not that Kakashi was any better. After all, it was his worry for Gai that had landed him in this position.

“Tell me you can keep fighting,” The voice behind him grew distant. As if Gai was moving away from him, even though Kakashi knew that wasn’t possible. Not when he could still feel Gai’s back pressed up against his. Protecting him from an attack from behind. “Kakashi-”

“Don’t think-” the wound in his chest ached. A pain that he was far too familiar with, but was also somehow ten times worse than he had ever experienced before. “Might need to, fight alone. Sorry.”

His knees gave out suddenly, sending him crashing to the ground as the cold that had burrowed its way into his bones just moments ago disappeared suddenly along with the sound of Gai’s voice. He’s certain that he should feel the moment that his body collides with the ground, but the only thing that he registers is the distant sound of fighting. Fists colliding with flesh and nunchucks deflecting Kunai and Tantos.

Laying there on his side, he watched as feet rushed past him. The fight continued as he lay there, surrounded by silence and feeling nothing except a deep numbness that could only be attributed to blood loss.

This was where he was going to die. A cold body on the ground, unable to do anything while his best friend fought for his life, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to be sad. At the end of the day, he died protecting Gai. Gave his friend another chance to win the fight and complete the mission.

To get home alive.

It was a fitting death, and as the world around him slowly started to fade away he couldn’t help but allow a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

Waiting was always the hardest part. No matter how much people talked about the pain of seeing someone they care about injured or watching them slowly dying in front of them, it was not knowing that hurt the most.

Wondering if this was going to end with another funeral.

Another goodbye.

Or if somehow he had managed to make it on time. If his feet had moved just fast enough, carrying him home just in time to save his best friend from otherwise certain death.

Staring at the door that Tsunade-sama had disappeared behind with Kakashi, he waited. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the constant reminder of who it is behind those doors.

Hatake Kakashi.

His eternal rival and best friend.

A wound like this would not be Kakashi’s end. It couldn’t be. There was still so much that they had to do together. Challenges that Gai hadn’t even thought up yet, and festivals for them to enjoy together.

“Gai-Sensei?” Dragging his eyes away from the door, he focused on the pink-haired Chunin who had just arrived, her hands held timidly in front of her chest. “Shizune said-Is Kakashi-Sensei.”

Shoving all of his feelings aside, Gai smiled at Sakura. A bright confident smile, followed by his signature thumbs up.

“Kakashi will be fine,” he assured her. “He’s Kakashi. He’s not one to give up easily. Besides, Tsunade-sama is looking after him. She is not known as the best medical ninja in all of the lands for nothing.”

If anyone could save Kakashi, it was Tsunade-sama.

“Good,” lowering her hands, Sakura glanced towards the door. “Captain Yamato is keeping Naruto distracted. When Shizune gave us the news he said it was best if Naruto didn’t find out until- well…”

It made sense. Yamato was always level-headed, even in times of great stress. There was no doubt in Gai’s mind that he was concerned about his Senpai’s current condition, but he knew when his attention was needed elsewhere, and when it came to Naruto it was best to keep him in the dark. If he found out what had happened-

Hearing a door opening, Gai pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked back over at the door he had spent the last four hours staring at. The first thing he noticed was all of the blood that now stained Tsunade-sama’s hands.

Kakashi’s blood.

“Gai, focus,” Tsunade-sama ordered, sighing when Gai diverted his eyes. Ashamed of himself for thinking of the worst before she could even get a word out. “Kakashi is fine. It took a bit of work, and there was some damage to his right lung, but he pulled through.”

Hours of worry melted away. His body released all of the tension that had been building up while he sat there waiting, hoping that Kakashi would be alright. That he hadn’t been too late.

“C-can i…”

“He won’t be awake for a while,” Nodding he waited for her to continue. “But, once we have him in a better room to rest and recover, you can sit with him. Though I do suggest we keep guests at a minimum. Sakura, can I trust you to make sure the room doesn’t get too crowded?”

“I’ll make sure Naruto stays out,” Sakura confirmed, a smile on her face when Gai looked back at her. “Team Kakashi can wait to see him. As long as we know he’s alright, we’ll be fine. You should be the first person he sees when he wakes up.”

“Thank you.” with that decided, Gai turned back to Tsunade-sama. “What room is he going to be in?”

“34,” she held out an arm, pointing towards the hallway with her hand. “I’m sure you know the way.”

That was an understatement. After all of the visits he had made over the years, between Kakashi, his old teammates, and his own student’s injuries, he could now walk the hallways with his eyes closed.

A challenge he may take upon himself another day. When there was a little more energy, and a lot less worry, in his soul.

The smell of cleanliness is the first thing Kakashi registers when his mind starts to swim towards consciousness. A smell that he knows all too well. Has spent too much time around not to recognize it as soon as it hits his nose.

The hospital.

If he were dead, he wouldn’t smell the hospital. There was no way that whatever afterlife there might be, that it would smell like a hospital. That would be the worst way to introduce someone to death.

Which meant only one thing.

“Gai,” he spoke without thought, already knowing that his best friend was there by his side. “How…”

“Are you really doubting my resolve right now, Rival?” he longs to open his eyes. To see that blinding smile that he knows is on Gai’s face at this moment, waiting to welcome him back into the world of the living. It’s too much though. There’s too little energy in his body to even manage that one small gesture. “Tsunade-sama said that it would take a while for you to recover. The enemy’s sword did a lot of damage. It even hit your lung.”

That explained why it was a little difficult for him to breathe. Tsunade-sama must have had a hell of a time trying to save him this time, and there was no doubt she had a lecture already brewing for him when he woke up again.

Speaking of lectures.

“I don’t regret it.”

“I know.”

“But you’re mad.”

Silence settles over the small room. Not a word was spoken, or a muscle moved. The two of them just sit there, wondering what to do next. How to continue a conversation that neither one of them wanted to have.

“You almost died.”

“For you,” he’s surprised by how easily those words leave his mouth. Words he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else, for fear of the reaction that they might give. “And I'd do it again.”

He expects anger, perhaps disappointment. A reminder of how precious his life is, and how Gai can’t stand the thought of having to bury him. Being forced to say goodbye when they had so much life to live.

Instead, his ears are greeted with laughter.

Bright, beautiful laughter. The kind of sound that makes his heart flutter, and gives him the energy he had been missing just minutes ago. Cracking his right eye open, he turned his face to the left and stared at Gai. Watching as his best friend shut his eyes and threw his head back, his laughter growing louder with each passing second.

A sound Kakashi would gladly listen to for the rest of the day.

The sound of life.

“Don’t you dare,” he’s surprised by the words, not because he doesn’t expect Gai to say them but because of the way they’re said? With so much joy and kindness that Kakashi’s certain his friend has lost his sanity. “You’re not allowed to die, Kakashi.”

“Mmm, is that so?” Relaxing back into the bed, he chuckled to himself. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m apparently too stubborn to die then.”

It would take a stronger enemy to take Kakashi out, and he was alright with that.

As much as he didn’t mind the thought of dying to protect Gai, he was much more fond of living. There were still so many contests for them to have and so many opportunities for him to get under Gai’s skin.

“For you,” he whispered once more, a tender smile pulling at his lips when he felt a hand rest on his arm. “I’ll fight to live.”

[togglesbloggle]

Less of a suggestion, more of a why-wouldn’t-this-work-and-what-does-that-teach-me-about-the-system:

Suppose you banned hospitals from offering patients line-item bills; medical care at a hospital is covered by a yearly membership, by law.  This is not adjustable for individuals- hospitals just post a price in public, and people can compare the reputation of the hospital against other local facilities and pick the one they want.  However, hospitals can defer acceptance of new members by a few (6?) months to hedge against some of the more obvious exploits.  Non-emergency procedures have to be done at ‘your’ hospital or its contractors, but in emergencies hospitals would be obligated to honor one another’s commitments until the patient stabilized and could return to the paid facility- possibly with a reciprocal obligation to compensate the emergency hospital for any costs incurred, since hospitals would not be forbidden from charging one another line items.  Similarly, specialists would be free to contract out their work to one hospital or many, charging for their services however they’d like, though at a bare minimum the hospital would need to keep enough GP’s on staff to know who to refer out.  We’ll put this in the United States, provisionally.

Fiddly effects:

The first-order consequence is that traditional private health insurance disappears overnight, with some of the functionality being folded in to the hospitals themselves.  If patients have no surprise costs, there’s no role for insurance.  A key difference is that service is homogenized within (though not between) hospitals and clinics, so cost-benefit calculations are generally limited to doctors and administrative staff.  Hospitals could still buy private insurance to hedge against black-swan medical care needs, but they’d be diffusing those risks against a larger pool of patients in the first place, so the role of insurance-qua-insurance would be much reduced, particularly in larger facilities.  (Bonus economies of scale for cities!)

This strongly incentivizes hospitals to keep costs low; I’m not sure how strong those incentives already are, or how this would compare.  One sort of imagines that real life insurance companies get real mad at hospitals that over-spend, somehow?  And that patients skip out on the bill more often?  But in this hypothetical, the balance of cost-to-hospital is mostly against the strength of existing liabilities- just as for-profit colleges could trade tuition for a worthless degree, a predatory hospital could trade the yearly medical fee for useless care and the occasional asprin.  This is a place where you’d be tempted to institute state/federal minimum standards of care, or for the more libertarian-minded, transparency laws about medical outcomes and life expectancy to go with the open subscription market. 

Because of the way the law works, you couldn’t easily buy private insurance to get ‘better-than-hospital’ care for rare/weird problems.  Specialists would be prevented from selling you their services on a non-subscription model.

Medicare, etc. can be effectively replaced with simple cash payments to low-income folks, without involving hospitals at all and without state dictates about service costs.  Incentives between hospitals and patients are aligned to the extent that both would prefer greater federal health subsidies of that sort; my vague understanding is that a lot of doctors really hate medicare right now.

Current healthcare consumption in the US’s rather busted system is at about $11K per person, per year.  (In other systems, it’s less; Germany has it down to $6.5K USD, Spain is at $3K USD, etc.)  This number includes a wide grab-bag of services, including stuff like nursing homes and such, but figure that 50-75% of that demand would be rolled in to this system, so conservatively about $7-8K if costs don’t fall.  (But see fiddly effect #2).  So naively a hospital would cost something like $600 a month, with no aid or subsidies in the equation.  The US’s healthcare spending is currently at $1.2 trillion per year, including CHIP, Medicare, Medicaid, etc., which could become ~$3.5K in direct subsidies per year if reallocated.  That gets you to ~$300 per month, minus the X-factor of how much slack and market inefficiency would get eliminated by this system, plus a Y-factor of however much slack and market inefficiency this system would introduce.  The optimistic version is that US per-capita healthcare costs fall to about where Germany’s are (or better) and healthcare becomes effectively public; I have no opinion about whether that’s a realistic outcome.

The average cost of employer-provided health insurance is just under $7200 per year for a single person, or a bit over $20K for a family plan (in premiums).  So, if employer-provided health insurance were retooled as employer-provided hospital subscriptions without a change in cost, the average employed person could probably subscribe to the average hospital with no additional cost to themselves and no state subsidy.  If this pushed hospital costs down, they (might) just get a raise instead, I suppose?

$600 is surprisingly high, although on reflection that’s definitionally what we’re paying already, on average.  I’m using existing costs, so an American person reading this should expect to spend $600/mo on healthcare over their whole lives (less employer benefits and public assistance).  For most of us, that would be concentrated at end-of-life care, when we’re more likely to have a lot of investment returns; spreading end-of-life care costs over our entire lives is quite expensive in an abstract sense, because it denies us savings and the returns on those savings.  But the complete end of medical bankruptcy risk is a nice balance against that.

Just some thoughts. As usual, emergency care feels like a weird problem in market frameworks, and the force inducing hospitals to actually heal people is rather diffuse and hand-wavy.  And I’m working a lot with averages, and kind of assuming that hospitals can cobble together enough insurance on the backend to not detonate.  You might say that the whole point of this is just to transfer health care volatility away from individual patients and on to large institutions equipped to handle it better.  Still, it’s an interesting system.  

[sodamnbored]

I so badly want a Roman prequel series. More than a Solangelo book. There could be so many great things in it.

Ideally, we’d get a series, basically original PJO but on the Roman side, presumably then following Jason in the same way we originally followed Percy.

But that would just be rehashing what we’ve already seen! Jason’s story would be too similar to Percy’s! - I hear you cry. But bear with me.

Yes: there would be some big similarities - following a son of one of the big three as he grows up and masters his powers and all that. And yes it would also conclude with him fighting a titan. But! I also think they’re different enough that it would read more as parallels than just copy and paste. It could be really interesting.

For one thing: Jason is starting way earlier than Percy. And I am desperate to know about the wolves thing. Correct me if I’m wrong, but all the info we have thus far is pretty vague, no? We know he went to the wolves when he was about two years old. But we don’t really know how long he stayed with them.

There’s the idea that he was raised by wolves (which don’t get me wrong I love that) and only went to the Legion when he was older - for parallels sake say about twelve. But we don’t know that’s the case for sure. He might’ve just spent the more or less normal time period with the wolves, or even if he were there longer than most - a year, two years even - he might’ve toddled off to camp still pretty young.

Cause this is another thing: we know very little about Camp Jupiter. In CHB you see for a fact that there are plenty of young demigods there, talking ten and under. Unless I’m mistaken, we never really heard mention of any little kids in the Legion right? Hazel was what, thirteen, in SoN, which is fairly young, but I don’t think there was any mention of anyone much younger than that. There was the little girl helping Terminus, but she was from New Rome not the Legion. And the Legion isn’t a summer camp of course, that’s a crucial difference.

They are quite literally an army, preparing for war should one ever arise. So do they have a minimum age requirement? Would not be unreasonable to assume they would. We know the majority of Legionaries are legacies from New Rome as opposed to actual half bloods, so it’s not unreasonable to think these kids live normal lives in New Rome until they hit a certain age and get conscripted/have the option to join the Legion for training.

If this is the case, then Jason might not’ve been with the wolves for years at all. He could’ve done his time and then been passed along to the care of New Rome. Set up somewhere to go to school and grow up and have something of a life to prepare him for his future in the Legion. That would be an interesting difference from Percy who had grown up not knowing about his heritage, for Jason to be fully aware of his godly parentage and to grow up knowing he was heading to the Legion as soon as he was old enough. I’m not sure about timings because in The Lost Hero pretty sure he’s fifteen and has twelve lines on his tattoo “for twelve years of service in the Legion” according to the wiki; but the wiki for the tattoos alone says the lines can be for years at Camp Jupiter or for completed quests and such, so it could mean he was toddling about CJ at three years old in mini Legionnaire armour like Caligula (oh the irony), or just that he crammed a crap load of cool stuff into just a few years when he was older.

So the series could quite happily start with him joining the Legion and maybe just summarise his life before that, have the important parts explained as relevant to the plot, I dunno. But it would give us more info on how Camp Jupiter actually works because personally I am clamouring for more info on the Romans.

Presuming that Jason is at least a Probatio by the time he’s about twelve (and it’d be cool to see him earn his full place in the legion too), that also means we’d get to see other people’s stories happening alongside his.

We know he fought the Trojan Sea Monster at some point, so that would be a cool quest to see play out. We don’t know a lot of other things he’s done, but we can assume he’d have been in the Legion when Reyna turned up, which would also be a really interesting story to follow.

We know from tSoM that Reyna and Hylla were on Circe’s island, when Percy was about 12/13, and it seems in SoN that he and Reyna were both around the same age, 16 or so. We know Reyna and Hylla spent some time after tSoM on Blackbeard’s ship before she made it to Camp Jupiter. So somewhere between ages 12-16, she would pop up at camp and I firmly believe she would’ve been Jason’s friend before they both became Praetors. And I would kill to see it. I wanna see them go on a quest together so badly. They would be an awesome team.

But we’d get to see Jason go through the steps, Probatio to Centurion to Praetor. We’d see him improving the Fifth Cohort’s standing in the Legion. We’d see Reyna become Praetor. (We’d ideally see Jason and Octavian gently bitch at each other like with Percy, but that’s just for me.) We’d get to see Jason and Reyna being Praetors together for a bit hopefully. That would be cool. And no doubt the series would conclude with their side of the Titan War, with Krios’ defeat - which would be so cool to see!

Being able to see more of their side of the war would also be really interesting as well. Because surely, there was more to it for them than just that one battle out of nowhere right? They must’ve been aware of the war and enlisted by the gods to help out right? Maybe there were some other titans for them to fight, maybe they had defectors too? Perhaps they were under the impression Kronos was still chopped up in little bits and Krios was running the show, either wanting to take Kronos’ place as the big cheese, or thinking the titans were working to reform Kronos, but they were kept out of Luke’s side of things so they didn’t realise that he already had been? Who knows. Certainly not me, cause we don’t have any books on it.

And there would be opportunities to have almost crossovers. Particularly regarding the war. They might just overhear things that don’t necessarily make sense to them but that we get, stuff like that. See some aftermath from one of Percy’s visits to the area. So many options.

Oh also actually, just for added angst and a different view than Percy’s, there was that freaking tragic bit in HoH I think where Jason thinks about his mother. The part about following orders and rules bothered him, but he insisted on doing so and keeping his promises because his mother had abandoned him and broken her promise. That would be an interesting aspect for the narration and his point of view because it’s the exact opposite of Percy. Percy doesn’t mind pushing the limits with the gods and exploiting loopholes or calling them on their faults, focused on surviving till the end of the day when he can go home to his mother and forget the gods and their stupid rules. Jason, on the other hand, doesn’t have anywhere to go back to. Camp Jupiter and the roles he’s given there are quite literally it for him, so even though he may resent it as much as Percy, he feels the need to bite his tongue and do everything in his power meet expectations and stay in line, etc. And yes, it’s for the benefit of others like he said in HoH, but maybe also the threat that if he makes too much trouble, where else is he gonna go and who else outside the Legion does he have?

Unfortunately we wouldn’t get to see Frank and Hazel come into it as newbies because that would’ve only happened after the war, so unlikely the series would continue after they beat Krios. But it’d still be a good set up to lead back into HoO alongside original PJO.

Also, I wanna know if Jason would’ve been particularly aware of his dad handing him off to Juno, or if she took a back seat until yoinking his memories out his head and dumping him on a dusty bus. I quite like the idea of him knowing, that she wouldn’t have been shy about popping up now and again as his patron, maybe sending him quests, offering occasional assistance like Poseidon did for Percy. Juno cared about her little champion, you can’t tell me different. I’d like to see her drop by from time to time. Or if he just accepted he was Jupiter’s and his dad basically never wanted to talk to him, and was a bit blindsided when Juno popped up after his hit on Krios.

Maybe he was just heading to bed after a long day of Titan slaying, thinking what he’d have for breakfast tomorrow and poof - Juno staring at him in his PJs, doesn’t he feel underdressed. Barely gets out an “um-?” before she’s like “got a quest for you. Surprise!”

(Since we got The Fall Of Jason Grace from Apollo in ToA, this series could be called something silly like The Rise Of Jason Grace to mirror it. I dunno.)

Either way, I need this. We deserve this. I will literally pay like 20$ per book if we could get this.

Wrote this hella sleep deprived and without sources and I’m still in ToA and haven’t read the extra books yet like demigod files and the Probatio one, so anything I’ve missed, had been answered, or is just plain wrong, let me know.

[stormbornbastard]

The Potential In Philoise

gif credit: @vakariaan​

tw/ sexual assault, abuse, depression, suicide, julia quinn’s writing 

AN: Okay, so I said awhile ago I would explain why Phillip and Eloise are my favorite couple in the series so get ready...it’s a bit of a long one. 

I read four Bridgerton books immediately after the show ended. Skipping over The Duke and I because I wasn’t comfortable with the assault scene between Simon and Daphne and also because I had already seen the romance play out onscreen. I fell in love with each romance I encountered, mainly because I didn’t read them as they were but as the show would make them out to be. I romanticized a romance series as weird as that sounds. Yet, none of the romances struck me the way To Sir Phillip, With Love did.

It’s not a perfect book. In fact, it's incredibly problematic. Phillip rapes his depressed wife, Marina (although given Julia’s history with crossing the lines of consent I doubt this is the way she wanted us to interpret the scene. Actually, the way it was written made it seem like we were meant to sympathize with Phillip and his loveless marriage. Hence the way he immediately grows ill afterward.) Marina attempts suicide and dies due to disease later on. Given her storyline in the show and the fact that a young biracial woman is playing her was disheartening, to say the least.

(AN: I don’t consider the character to be Black representation, she’s biracial. As a black woman who enjoyed her character and arc, no part of me felt seen and represented through her because she was half black. She's Biracial rep, not Black rep and that’s okay. Just putting that out there. )

Phillip seeks a woman to take care of his children, fuck and do the shit he doesn’t want to do. His mental illness is handled in such a shitty way. The independent nature Eloise once has is almost stifled by Phillip and what he wants for some reason. He’s neglectful, erratic and he does dismiss potential negative feelings Eloise could have in their relationship because of his past relationship.

It's fucked up. The entire book.

And yet, imagining how this problematic romance would play out on screen once properly adapted for modern audiences makes me fucking giddy. All because of one, simple thing that remains the reason I am so fucking excited to see this pairing onscreen.

The unrealized potential the pairing and Phillip as a character have in the novel.

Let me explain.

Their romance is unique. Phillip and Eloise are not strangers when they meet. They’ve been writing to each other for months, picking each other’s brains every week or so. Getting to know each other in a way that other couples in the series don’t at first. Intellectually. They’re able to keep such a steady, enthralling dialogue through letters, and it's a friendship that they both enjoy. Phillip stimulates Eloise’s mind, something the show has emphasized her wanting, for months. He’s her intellectual equal, or at least...he has the potential to be. Of course, he slaves over the letters (which is cute as fuck because he really just wants her to like him) but it's still his words. It’s his voice. It is Phillip, at his best.

I hope the show can play this up. Phillip is a botanist and a scholar before he inherits his family’s estate. Eloise has a desire to learn and further her knowledge of the world around her. Bonding over their shared love of education, fun banter based around teasing the other and their individual studies, taking an interest in what the other desires to learn.  Reading books together in the greenhouse, etc. The show could easily play up the fact that Phillip was not only a gardener but a literal man of science, something Julia neglects in their book despite it having the possibility of playing a major factor in their love story.

The possibilities of it just...makes me swoon.

Moving on, Eloise choosing to pursue a possible future with this man is a big fucking deal. Running away from home to go after a future for herself IS her displaying her OWN agency. Sure, Phillip poses the question of it but she’s the one who chooses it. Phillip doesn’t demand her to come to him, he simply suggests it and she’s the one who acts. The one who pursues. And if they hadn’t been bombarded by her brothers, it would’ve remained her choice of whether or she wanted to be a part of this man’s life permanently.

Phillip wouldn’t have forced her, he could’ve easily tried to. By going to the Bridgerton house and discussing with Anthony the possibility of marrying her but no, he asks her. HE ASKS HER AND SHE CHOOSES. I fucking love that. It's like the bare minimum but given the time period and the number of couples where the man has the final say on the marriage, this just makes me giddy. The show could change this and give Eloise more time with Phillip to the point where she chooses him and isn’t forced into the marriage which I hope they do.

Also, their first meeting where neither one of them is what the other expects sounds amazing ngl. The initial confusion, shock, unease, and undeniable attraction, it's gonna serve why lie?

Despite how much it affects him, the subject of Phillip’s abuse is handled so...wrong. As someone who shares an experience with abusive parents, I understand the fear of becoming like them. Of hurting the ones you love and being angry and feeling guilty. Yet, Phillip never confronts these fears. Not really. Sure, we get the scene in the nursery but thinking of how the show could handle it and his relationship with his children makes me excited. Having him being neglectful of his children was the wrong move, especially if his fear is hurting them in an attempt to discipline them. It's clear he loves them and ultimately wants the best for them which is why he’s searching for someone to better take care of them despite the shitty bitch he already has hired. I hope the show capitalizes on that.

Have Phillip be involved but not a disciplinary figure. Yeah, I get that he’s the man or whatever but it's clear that Phillip finds no enjoyment in the act or even pondering it. But he does love his kids. Have him be overwhelmed but still involved. It just felt weird that Phillip didn’t want anything to do with his kids despite one of his main reasons to look for a wife was so that they could be properly taken care of. Have him try but struggle. A lot.

It’d be funny to see Oliver and Amanda running the house and Phillip struggling to keep up. They’re supposed to be mischievous, they should play that up in the show. Having the kids be little gremlins but instead of him ignoring them completely, he could just give in to their whims. And when his anger does get the best of him, then he could run. Be distant, wrestle with his internal struggle with abuse but also knowing he can’t let his kids run his household like this and go about as reckless as they do.

Speaking of abuse, I hope they scrap the nursery lady altogether. I know it’s supposed to show him stepping into dad mode but it just felt like unnecessary and triggering of his own child abuse. He could easily step into this role by learning to deal with his anger, learning to control it. Eloise could suggest journaling the way she does (another bonding moment that could be less cute and more intimate if done right.) Having him put his anger into gardening, I interpreted it as it being a safe place and coping mechanism for him in the book and that would be nice to see.

Having to finally put an end to his kids' tirade once he learns to trust himself and realize that he’s nothing like his father. Actual healing from childhood trauma and Eloise helping him do so. She could also suggest boxing with her brothers like...it just makes sense. As someone with a temper, boxing helped me sort through that and the opportunity to see Phillip and Simon bonding, while boxing, over their shitty dads, sounds pretty fucking cathartic (and hot).

I would just like the show to truly show that just because you’ve dealt with abuse doesn’t mean you have to be defined and like your abuser. Phillip is a pretty great candidate for it because the guy is...scarred, to say the least.

I love the physical side of Phillip and Eloise’s relationship. Like really love, it's said that they try different things and are comfortable in that regard with each other and it just...yeah, that makes me happy. Besides that, I hope they play up the intellectual side of their relationship. Two nerds in love are adorable and imagining Phillip ranting about plants and Eloise just being completely enthralled at this man and his passion sounds like the cutest fucking shit.

Speaking of intellectual, it's implied Phillip cares little about high society. Meaning, wouldn’t he care even less about societal expectations and norms? Meaning Eloise would literally find freedom with this man to just...do her. Despite the book showing how Phillip wants a wife, it never really says that he cares exactly how that wife maintains herself or their household. Eloise wants to fuck around and wear trousers? He doesn’t care. Eloise wants a private tutor and a study for herself? Cool. Eloise wants to take Amanda riding in the forest and then teach her how to shoot? All good. The man was literally proud to watch her beat her brothers in a traditionally masculine sport. He wants his wife to run his house and his entire life how she sees fit.

Julia really neglected how much agency and power that could give Eloise. She could be his equal, like really be his equal. Of course, Phillip becoming more involved in his and his children’s lives is a part of his arc but nothing leads me to believe he would want to control Eloise. The two of them being more than just lovers, but partners who allow the other their freedoms when needed sounds epic as shit.

Now some things that could easily be left out, the rape scene. It’s there to showcase that Phillip has lost his wife and there is no chance of reigniting whatever they may have had in the past. Yet, there are so many other ways to show that. Phillip could try and speak with her with no response. Hold her hand and she pulls away? He’s a smart man, it doesn’t take much to get the hint so that could’ve easily been written out and replaced with something else.

Second of all, I like the possibility of Marina and Phillip finding happiness at first. Of them trying to love each other after George and succeeding. The way Marina is written in the show, I doubt she’s quick to give up. So to see the two of them having an agreeable marriage and getting along would be nice. They could showcase her mental illness in a different form, it's clear she suffers from postpartum depression. She withdraws into herself, distances herself from her children. She’s depressed but it's not as stereotypical and easily spotted as Julia makes it out to be. Marina just gives up on her children and life without any fight? Absolutely not.

As someone who suffers from depression, the way Julia wrote it is so...??? The truth is, I would like Phillip and their family to not even realize she’s suicidal. To not see it coming when she jumps in the lake and attempts to end her own life because that's exactly how suicide impacts so many people and their loved ones. They don’t see it coming. Phillip struggling with the guilt of that rather than the anger of being trapped in a loveless marriage sounds...a lot more interesting to me. Me, personally. Considering how much buzz the show has, it would spark up a dialogue and a good one if handled properly. I’ve thought a lot about Marina but this is just how I would prefer to see it handled if they go through with her canon death (which I am not actively rooting for by the way.)

Another reason I like the potential of Philloise is Oliver and Amanda, they just add some extra spice. If fully realized characters, watching them grow closer to their dad and form a relationship with Eloise would be so rewarding for two kids who have lost a lot. Also, the amount of comedic gold in their pranks with Eloise and dynamic with each other would give the season even more humor on top of Eloise herself.

And as much as I love the line, “this-us-is heaven.” They could easily modify the love speech. Like very easily.

My point is, I think their potential outweighs the problematic factors in their story and I doubt the show will fail on realizing it and ridding itself of the problematic aspects. One could even say they already started, I mean look at the way the show made a point to show Eloise’s disgust with fathers and husbands who abandon their family, and then comes Phillip, doing the absolute most to protect his remaining family. I mean, Bridgerton did turn the weakest romance in the series into a whole pop culture phenomenon. My hopes are high. Okay, that’s all.

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Ten

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Total word count: 47,939

Summary:

Emily tries apple cider, things get corny, Spencer wins a prize, and the night ends with a kiss.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months. Takes place over the span of the first semester of their sophomore year.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“See, I told you it was good,” JJ grinned up at Emily, adjusting the blue scarf that was wrapped tightly around her own neck against the cool air. 

Emily licked her lips as she held a paper cup filled to the brim with apple cider tightly in her hands. 

“Ok fine,” Emily admitted, “You were right, cider is good.”

JJ watched as she took another sip, as a smile spread across her face at the taste. JJ knew she was right, that apple cider at a fall fair always tasted better than anything from the grocery store. 

The two of them walked across the leaf-strewn grass, trailing behind their friends to talk. When JJ had told Penelope about her conversation with Emily about how the girl had never been to a fall fair, her roommate insisted that they rally the troops to make it happen. 

Both JJ and Emily still had a lingering cough, but other than that, they had just about made a full recovery. Somehow, the others had escaped coming down with the same thing, and so all of them were able to make the trek to the other side of their college town to attend the fair. JJ had the day off from soccer, a rare thing these days with playoffs imminent, and during essay season, and she intended to make the most of it. 

JJ kept catching Emily looking at her. It was the same way that a wild animal would look at her if she was offering food, nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She could tell something was bothering her. But knew the more she probed, the more Emily would shut down. 

She wondered if Emily felt awkward after sleeping in her bed, and worried that she had pushed things too far. JJ had been forward, and felt slightly guilty about that, but in her own feverish state, her sole focus had been to make sure Emily was alright. JJ reminded herself that Emily was here, and hadn’t run from her despite all that had happened. She could take a slightly closed-down Emily over none at all, any day. 

The fair itself was located on a farm on the outskirts of the city. Their school had arranged for a shuttle bus to facilitate this wholesome entertainment for their undergrads. It deposited them on a muddy grass field filled with carnival games, a midway, vendors and miscellaneous fall themed activities.

Golden leaves shone in the sunlight, and JJ raised her face to feel its warmth. It was a nice day, the first after weeks of rain. Her wool sweater was more for the fall festivities than for warmth, as it was pleasant outside, but she knew once the sun set she would be grateful for it. 

Emily was looking as beautiful as ever, wearing a maroon turtleneck underneath a black corduroy jacket that looked soft to the touch. Her lips matched, painted with a dark purple-red hue that made her look elegant and mysterious.

She hoped that today would be fun for Emily, knowing that the girl missed out on a lot of the childhood staples of the average American, and JJ wanted to rectify it. Hopefully it would also ease some of the tension between them as well. 

JJ gasped when she saw the petting zoo near the entrance, which was a spacious zone filled with chickens, goats, two llamas, some sheep, cows, and most importantly, the most beautiful horse she’d seen in ages. It was, in fact, the only horse she’d seen up close since that summer, and it was quite scruffy up close.

In her excitement, she found herself reaching out her hand, grasping Emily’s and pointing as she exclaimed: “Horse!” 

She internally cringed at her own behaviour, but Emily looked excitedly where she pointed and followed at her side as she veered towards the animals. 

The horse was a brown gelding, with a black mane and a stripe down his nose. As JJ approached he leaned his head over the fence in anticipation of some treats. Slowing down, JJ approached, still hand in hand with Emily, quietly and calmly so that she didn’t startle him. 

His brown eyes watched her, his ears forward and relaxed, and leaned into her outstretched hand as she reached to pet his nose. JJ’s cold bare hand met warm horse face and her mind flashed back to all the times she rode her grandmother’s horse as a kid.

“He looks like Socks,” JJ giggled, as the horse tried to nibble gently at her sweater, “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Socks?” Emily asked, with a quizzical look on her face, keeping distance between her and the horse. 

The others caught up with them, milling about the petting zoo and interacting with the various animals. Derek and Penelope bought some feed with a quarter from the dispenser and used the flat of their hands to feed some sheep.

“One of my grandma’s horses,” JJ explained, “His name was Socks. He was her favourite and when she got too old to ride, I would.”

“You ride horses?” Emily asked. 

“Not that well,” JJ admitted, “But Socks was patient with me.”

Noticing Emily’s hesitance, JJ smiled at her, trying to reassure her friend. 

“Do you want to pet him?” 

Emily nodded. JJ guided her hand onto his neck, leading her as she stroked it gently. A look of awe crossed Emily’s face and JJ couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. 

JJ removed her hand and let Emily take over, watching as the horse nuzzled Emily, taking great interest in her hair. JJ reached her hand out—and just in time—moved his mouth away just as he attempted to take a mouthful.

“Don’t be rude,” JJ exclaimed, guiding his face away from her friends hair, “That’s not for you.”

Emily’s jaw had dropped, holding onto her hair in horror. 

“They do that sometimes,” JJ explained. 

Emily nodded sagely before nervously returning to give him another pat, her reservations clear on her face.

“Why Socks?” Emily asked, after a moment. 

“He had white marks on his legs,” she explained, “They looked like socks.”

“Seems reasonable,” she said. 

The crew left the petting zoo and walked towards the carnival games area. A wave of nostalgia hit JJ like a truck. Every fall when she was a kid, she and her sister would always beg her for their parents to take them to the fair, insisting that they play all of the games and go on the rides multiple times. In retrospect, it probably cost a ton of money which they definitely could not afford, but her parents would hand them a stack of tickets and let themselves be dragged around the fair by the two girls. 

JJ closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of popcorn, funnel cake and corn dogs—not altogether an entirely pleasant smell—but one that brought her back to being six years old and walking hand-in-hand with her sister.

Emily knocked their shoulders lightly, the motion bringing JJ back into the present, locking eyes with Emily.  

She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this was Emily’s first fall fair. The other girl looked onto the attractions with apprehension, gawking at the sheer mass of fried food and the loud rides and hordes of people swarming the games. 

“These games are all rigged,” JJ explained. “They’re next to impossible to win.” 

“But you can win,” Emily said, a challenge in her voice. 

JJ nodded.

“I’ve seen some folks walking around with that bear at least,” JJ gestured at a fuzzy brown teddy bear that sat on the top shelf of the dart game’s prize shelf. Other prizes included dangling stuffed snakes and some other plastic toys. 

“It’s cute,” Emily commented, smiling up at the bear.  

JJ smiled as her whole group went head to head on the water gun game, lined up in a row and shooting at the targets as if they were at a shooting range. Each played the game with the focus and determination as if it were a life or death situation, and not a carnival game. 

After, they all spread out around the stalls of games, competing with each other or going it alone as they played games that interested them. 

Emily’s smile kept crossing JJ’s mind as the games wore on, and the thought of that bear stuck in her mind. It’s cute, Emily had said. JJ could get it for her. She was great at darts. 

JJ circled back to the dart game, slamming a five dollar bill on the table and getting a handful of darts. She tossed one. The balloon popped. Another. Pop. Another. Pop. She hit every single one she threw. 

This was harder than it looked, as the balloons were barely filled, it needed a lot of force, and a wicked aim to pop them. JJ, luckily, had both. 

“Pick something from the first shelf,” the employee told her. 

JJ frowned, looking at the fluorescent stuffed animals on the first row. They looked cheap, and none were as cute as the bear, which sat between a monkey and a rabbit on the top shelf. 

“How do I get the bear?” she asked. 

“Win again,” he said, with an apathetic shrug. He was just a teenager, probably only getting paid minimum wage. JJ couldn’t help but glower at him.

JJ sighed, paying him for another round. She knew that the toy itself was worthless, but it wasn’t about that. It was about winning it for Emily. 

“What are you doing?” A voice asked her from behind as she lined up her next shot. 

Spencer. He was standing to her right, clutching a plastic bag in his hands. He wore a pair of sunglasses and smiled awkwardly in greeting. 

“Darts,” JJ answered, “What does it look like?”

She looked at the bag. It was clear and filled with water, with a small goldfish swimming around inside. 

“You won a fish?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” Spencer said, gesturing over at a game that was essentially beer pong, but instead of cups full of alcohol, it was a series of fish tanks. 

He explained that he had won on his first try, and now was a proud owner of a goldfish. JJ was certain it would die before they got back to residence, but decided not to burst his bubble. The kid was smiling at his fish, looking proud of himself. 

JJ turned back to the game and focused on an orange balloon that waved in the wind. She threw. Hit. The balloon popped. 

“I just want that damned bear,”  JJ hissed, gripping the dart tight in her hand. 

“Why?” Spencer asked, his forehead furrowed. 

“Why” was a great question! For my not-girlfriend because I’m just such a good friend, was the answer, but she wasn’t going to say that . Because I want her to like me, and I want her to date me, but I can’t work up the courage to ask her. Because she might be gay, but might not, and I haven’t even asked her that. Because all I want is for her to smile. 

JJ sighed. 

“I want to win it for Emily, ok?” JJ said.

“You could buy her a nicer bear if you wanted with this money,” he pointed out. 

“I know,” JJ said, aiming her dart. Another hit. “I just have to hit three more and then I win.”

JJ was being pointedly obtuse, she knew if she began to explain, it would all come rushing out. She could handle Penelope’s teasing, but that was her limit. 

Spencer began to speak, but she shushed him. She threw another. Hit. The balloon popped with a satisfying pop. Two more. 

Reid held his fish up to his face, examining it close up. Just as she was about to throw her last shot, she felt a hand clap her on the back in the unmistakable gesture of Derek Morgan greeting her. 

“What’re we playing, kids?” he asked. 

“JJ wants the bear,” Spencer informed him. “For Emily.”

Derek grinned at her. JJ ignored both of them, squinting at a bright red balloon and taking her aim.

Pop. She did it. Both Derek and Spencer cheered for her, despite their earlier misgivings. JJ slapped the metal barrier between her and the employee in glee as he nodded approvingly at her achievement. 

The employee used a telescopic grabber to lift the bear off a tall shelf and handed it to her with a smile. 

She hugged the bear to her chest, elated with her accomplishment despite Derek’s probing looks. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with Emily’s best friend these days. He seemed to know something that she didn’t, and she caught him smiling at her and Emily when they spoke. 

JJ was relieved when he shifted his attention to discussing the logistics of goldfish ownership with Reid.

The three of them wandered through the stalls, taking a break for Reid and Morgan to pick up candy apples, then ran back into the rest of the group. Penelope, Hotch, Rossi and Emily were still at the water gun booth, cheering Emily on as she played against a boy that looked like he was about their age. 

A bell rang, and a light flashed over Emily’s head. She had won. 

JJ walked up behind her, watching as Emily got to point out her prize. She pointed to the exact same bear as JJ had tucked behind her back. 

“JJ will love it,” Penelope said to Emily, neither girl knowing that JJ was right behind them. 

“Love what?” JJ said, confused. 

Emily turned around looking at JJ, clutching the bear to her chest. 

“Uh, you said you saw these bears around,” Emily said, “I thought you might want one.”

Derek and Spencer both burst into laughter, as JJ felt blush creep over her face. Emily held the bear out to her, with a shy look on her face. To her left, Penelope’s jaw had dropped and both Hotch and Rossi’s usually serious expressions were filled with bemusement. 

JJ pulled out the bear from behind her back and presented it to Emily. Both girls were holding identical bears out to each other, each having independently decided to win it for the other. 

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Penelope squealed. 

JJ and Emily exchanged identical bears, both feeling quite silly. JJ was speechless, simply grinning at Emily, who smiled down at her. 

Hotch broke the silence after a minute, pointing to what was in Spencer’s hand. “Is that a fish?” 

   “We should do the corn maze next!” Penelope squealed, pointing at the painted wooden sign leading towards a field with what looked like an endless maze. 

“Mazes are actually quite simple,” Reid said, “You have to hug the right side wall for the duration of the maze and you will eventually reach the exit. It beats getting hopelessly lost in the hopes of entertainment.” 

“That’s one way to do it,” Hotch commented, looking over to a smirking Rossi.

“Come on Reid,” Derek chastised, throwing an arm around his shoulder, “You couldn’t possibly think that’s the best way of doing it.

“How do you suggest we should approach it?” Spencer asked as he shrugged Derek’s arm off of him.

“You gotta get a feel for it,” Derek replied. “Remember where you came from.”

Spencer made a non committal noise.

“Getting lost comes with the territory,” Derek added, “It’s part of the fun.”

Emily gave him a look, but didn’t contribute to the debate. 

“You won’t be saying that when you’re lost, cold and surrounded by corn,” Spencer retorted.

“He’s got a point about the corn,” Hotch quipped. 

“I’ve never seen this much corn in my life,” Emily admits, “I haven’t spent much time around farms.”

Emily touched her hair absentmindedly,reminded of the horse trying to eat it from earlier in the afternoon. “Aren’t you a farmgirl, JJ?” Derek teased.

“No!” she said, “I lived in the suburbs near Pittsburgh. She lived an hour away so we’d visit on the weekends and on holidays.”

“They had cows!” Penelope blurted, “She showed me pictures once. They’re so cute as babies.”

JJ nodded, she loved visiting her grandma when she was little. She and Ros would be allowed to collect the eggs in the morning, and JJ always loved grabbing hay for the horses. 

“What’s your take on mazes?” Derek asked her, “Oh farm girl?”

JJ punched his shoulder in retaliation.

“I say that you two should put your money where your mouth is,” JJ said, “See whose method works in the end.”

“You talking about a race?” Derek asked. 

“That seems only fair,” Emily said, “Since both of you have such strong opinions on how to go about tackling this maze. Let’s see who’s right.”

“Shall we split up?” Hotch asked.

“Very Scooby-Doo of you, sir,” Penelope cooed, “I like it.”

Hotch did not acknowledge this beyond a glare. 

As they approached the maze entrance, a teenage girl, a bit younger than them and wearing a green shirt branded with the name of the farm handed them a map and began to explain the rules of the maze. No smoking, drinking, cheating by ducking under the red ribbon that marked the paths, she told them.

She then offered them a map, a black and white printout that marked out the route. 

“No thanks,” Derek said in a haughty tone, “We’ll figure it out ourselves.”

“I legally have to give it to you,” the girl said, her braces giving her a slight lisp. “It’s a safety issue.”

Derek and Spencer looked at each other, each taking a map, but folding it up and placing it in their pockets. Hotch also took a map, as did Emily. 

“I call dibs on Der-bear,” Penelope said, wrapping her arms around his bicep. “And JJ will go with Emily of course.”

“I’ll follow the wall,” Hotch says, “Reid, you better be right about this wall thing.”

Rossi looked around and seemed to decide to see whether the boy-genius was onto something or not. 

JJ felt a little shy at the assumption that she and Emily would naturally be together. Penelope was getting more and more bold with her attitude towards the two girls. 

The teams set out into the maze, splitting up at the first fork in the road, the boys staying right, Derek and Penelope heading straight ahead, and JJ and Emily veering left.

“What do you think of your first fair?” JJ asked, fiddling with the stuffed bear in her hands. 

They trudged through the muddy maze, with the sound of the fair in the distance, a pleasant hum of music and the clamour of the rides. 

“It’s not what I expected,” Emily said, “I only really saw this stuff in movies.”

“Better or worse than you imagined?” she asked. 

“Better,” Emily said, “but that’s probably just the company.”

“Good friends make a difference,” JJ said. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, “friends.”

JJ hummed, smiling as she felt the breeze in her hair. She loved the outdoors. She spent way too much time cooped up in the library these days. Emily, on the other hand, was picking her way through, careful not to step in any puddles or trip on fallen corn stalks. 

“Left or right?” Emily asked as they neared an intersection.

“Right,” JJ said. 

They headed deeper into the maze, turning left, then right, then hitting a dead end and back tracking. The corn rose above their heads, limiting their vision to a few feet in front of, and behind, them at all times. 

A few times, they bickered over directions, as JJ was certain that they were walking in circles. 

“How long was this supposed to take us?” Emily said, after twenty minutes passed. 

“Not this long,” JJ admitted. 

“Where are we?”

“I have no idea.”

She stopped, and paused waiting for Emily to do the same. JJ listened hard, straining her ears to listen for the direction of the music. 

“I can’t hear the carnival anymore,” JJ said, “We must be on the far end of the maze.” 

“Are we lost?” Emily asked. 

“I think that’s the whole point of it,” JJ said with a laugh. “Let’s head this way.”

“Should we check the map?” Emily asked. 

“Sure.”

Emily looked at JJ expectantly. 

“ You took the map, Em,” JJ said with a laugh. 

“No I didn’t,” Emily replied. She rifled through her pockets, then held up her hands in a gesture of: see? Nothing!

She checked her own pockets, and inside the small purse hanging over her shoulder. No map. 

“You sure you don’t have it?” JJ asked, hearing the stress in her voice. 

Emily’s eyes widened, checking her own pockets more frantically. 

Neither had it. JJ began to laugh. Of course she’d get lost in a corn maze with Emily. Of course. 

JJ’s phone pinged. Penelope had texted her.

Penny G: where are you? are you making out in the corn? 

JJ: no, we’re lost. are you all done already?

Penny G: yup. Spencer was a few minutes behind us  

“They’re already out,” JJ explained to Emily. 

“Figures,” Emily huffed. 

Penny G: we can wait for you? we’re going to try the rides 

JJ: i’ll text you when we get out, go ahead

JJ slipped her phone back into her pocket, noticing Emily poking at the edge of the corn with her hands, trying to peer through. 

“More corn,” Emily said, sounding defeated. 

JJ thought for a second, trying to weigh their options. 

“Get on my shoulders,” JJ blurted. 

“What?” 

“So you can see,” JJ said, “I’ll lift you up.” 

Emily looked flustered for a moment, opening and closing her mouth at the thought, but eventually nodded. 

JJ knelt down slightly, letting Emily put her legs on either side of her head. JJ knew she was strong. She could lift more than double her own weight at the gym. Once Emily was settled, she lifted her with ease, standing straight up and holding onto her thighs with her hands to steady Emily. 

“I see, uh, a highway behind us, more fields,” Emily said, then JJ turned a bit to give her another angle, “We’re almost there. We’re on the far right side, but the path is fairly clear. We go left, then it doubles back. But I think I can get us out of here.”

JJ stumbled under Emily’s shifting weight as she turned, finding herself tilting forward before she could adjust, tipping forward and sending both girls tumbling into the corn. 

Emily landed on top of JJ, their limbs tangled, with a loud “fuck!” as they made contact with the mud.   

JJ sat up, rubbing the back of her head where Emily had accidentally kicked her. 

“Sorry,” JJ said, “are you ok?”

Emily sat up, rubbing her wrist which caught most of her weight. Both girls had come out of the fall mostly unscathed.  

“The corn broke my fall,” Emily said with a laugh. 

They burst into laughter, and JJ reached out her hands to help Emily up. 

The girls retrieved their bears, both unsure whose was whose, and began to make their escape from the corn. 

Emily navigated them out of the maze, which, despite their tumble, made JJ’s idea worthwhile. 

“I don’t think I ever want to see corn again,” Emily said as they left the maze. 

“I guess you won’t have roasted corn for dinner?” 

“God no.”

They laughed. 

For the next hour or so, they visited the midway, braving an assortment of spinning rides that bore names like The Annihilator, and The Brain Blender, that were next to carousels and other rides clearly meant for children. 

JJ had a blast, she was definitely an adrenaline junky and the rides gave her the same endorphin high as sports. 

Emily was clearly nervous, but was a good sport. She took a couple rides off, claiming to need to babysit Spencer’s new fish (he decided it was too cold out for the goldfish, so he had been wrapping it in his coat to keep it warm. Emily did the same during her time as babysitter as Spencer rode the ride.)

The sun began to set, and as the sky filled with colours, the carnival lights dazzled them, glowing in a rainbow of incandescent light. 

“One more ride?” Hotch asked them, as he noticed their energy fading and their stomachs growling. 

“The Ferris wheel!” Penelope announced, “we have to.”

“The last Ferris wheel I was on was the London eye,” Emily commented. 

“We’ll miss jet setter,” Derek replied, “this will probably be a bit less glamorous.” 

They waited in line for it, laughing and goofing around. JJ smiled at her friends, while her nerves grew in her stomach. She tugged on her sister’s necklace, pulling it tight against the back of her neck to calm her. 

“Hey,” Emily whispered, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” JJ said back, quietly. “Just a little nervous with heights.”

Emily smiled down at her, with no trace of judgment on her face, and JJ softened. 

“Didn’t you just ride The Bonebreaker earlier?” Emily asked, talking about a ride that locked them in a cage, and flipped them in punishing rotations. 

“Those are different,” JJ said as tucked her hair behind her ears, trying to find the words to explain. “You’re strapped in, and there’s a cage. Ferris wheels have just the bar. You’re exposed.”

“Are you good to do it?” Emily asked, concern etched into her features.

“Yeah, of course,” JJ said, setting her shoulders back and gritting her jaw. “I’m not actually scared.”

JJ forced herself to relax, making good on her promise, leaning onto the chilly metal barricade. She was so happy that her little troupe of Penelope and Spencer had expanded to include all of these new people. Their dynamic was fun, and warm, and felt… right. 

“This would be a beautiful photo,” Penelope exclaimed, pulling out her phone and gesturing at the whole group to get in close. 

JJ turned to face the camera, smiling wide and meaning it. Reid and Emily wrapped their arms around her shoulders, and she was squished into the big group of friends. She felt the happiest she had felt in years, despite the creeping fear building up inside her. 

The line moved quickly and they were shuffled into their seats, two by two. Emily and JJ were together, like before, and soon they were slowly lifted into the sky, side by side. 

“It’s beautiful,” Emily gasped.

She looked down onto the fair, leaning forward as she gazed into the quickly shrinking fairgrounds. 

Emily’sbeautiful, JJ thought, looking at her friend as she looked out into the night. 

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, feeling a touch of vertigo, breathing deep to keep calm. 

“Thanks for bringing me,” Emily said. 

JJ clutched the bear tightly, as though someone was going to take it away from her.  

“I told you that you’d like it,” JJ said, focusing on Emily’s face instead of the height. 

“I admit it,” Emily said. “I like apple cider. Fairs are fun. I’m a country girl now.” 

“Not yet,” JJ said, “we’ll work on that.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Emily said with a smile. 

The Ferris wheel slowly turned as new passengers boarded, raising them higher into the air until they were at the very top, when they stopped. 

Emily leaned forward, then back, making the chair swing slightly. JJ gasped as her stomach clenched, the fear of her plummeting to her death high on her mind. 

JJ realized that her hand had shot out and now rested upon Emily’s. The other girl did not pull away. 

“Sorry,” Emily giggled. “I had to.”

JJ glowered at her, but knew she was kidding and wouldn’t actually put her in danger. They rested at the top of the Ferris wheel, their chair swaying slightly, hand in hand for a few minutes. 

JJ shifted closer to Emily, mentally telling herself that she was doing it to get closer to the warmth. Emily leaned towards her, allowing their shoulders to meet softly. 

“We’ve been at the top for awhile,” JJ said, a little nervously. “Do you think it’s stuck?”

“I can’t imagine these things get stuck,” Emily assured her, “it’s probably someone getting off or on.”

This did nothing to quell the bundle of nerves in JJ’s stomach. She clutched the bar even tighter. 

“JJ look at me,” Emily said, her voice soft, but stern. 

JJ complied, tearing her eyes away from the ground far below her feet and focusing on Emily, sitting right next to her, feeling her warmth radiate out from her hand. 

“You’re ok,” Emily said, calmly. “Don’t worry.”

JJ believed her, knowing that whenever they were together, nothing ever seemed to go wrong. 

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world faded away. JJ got lost in her warm brown eyes that looked at her with concern. Emily had done a perfect wing of eyeliner, sharp on the corner, and covered her lid with a neutral brown eyeshadow. Emily was so beautiful. Her brows framed her eyes so perfectly, forming a graceful arch. Her cheekbones were sharp and her smile warm, but rare on the serious girl’s face. JJ took her in, relishing the moment to look unheeded. 

JJ felt Emily’s grip on her hand tighten, and there was something about her eyes that beckoned her closer. JJ felt herself, acting almost on autopilot, leaning towards Emily as if she’d done it before.

Emily’s arm, which was thrown casually over the back of the chair, wrapped around JJ’s shoulders, pulling her oh so slightly closer. An invitation.

Without thinking, JJ found herself just inches from Emily, their breaths mixing as their foreheads touched. 

Jennifer Jareau couldn’t believe this was happening, that Emily Prentiss, the girl across the hall, who she had been pining over for months, was probably about to kiss her. 

She did not think of the billion ways this complicated their friendship, or the fact that she didn’t know if she could even handle jumping back into a relationship, or how she was thirty feet in the air on a rusty ferris wheel, all she could think about was the idea of Emily’s lips on hers. 

Their lips met. Before this moment, JJ thought the phrase “sparks flying” was an exaggeration, but the electricity that she felt when Emily kissed her set JJ’s body on fire. 

Her lips were soft, velvety, perfect. At first, it was chaste, with their hands nervously still holding onto the railing. Then, it deepened, lips moving slowly against the other. Emily’s hand moved from on top of hers up to her face, pulling her closer than before. JJ did the same, tangling her fingers into Emily’s black hair. Their matching stuffed bears were squished between them. 

JJ’s mouth opened, and Emily’s tongue gained entrance, rubbing against JJ’s. It felt heavenly, and in that moment JJ decided that she didn’t want to do anything else in life but kiss Emily. 

Their kiss was gentle, yet needy, with a passion that made JJ’s head spin. Emily’s hands rested delicately on her face, stroking her cheek, and wrapped almost protectively around her back. 

The two girls only came up for breath, kissing like their life depended on it. 

JJ felt her heart race, but a wave of calm washed over her. It felt like a kiss she had had a thousand times, and one she would have a thousand more. As familiar as something that she had experienced in her past lives, and something she knew she wanted to do for the rest of this one. 

Suddenly, the chair rocked, and the Ferris wheel roared back to life.

They pulled apart, looking away from each other and catching their breath. JJ could feel a blush rise up her face as Emily tugged her arm out from behind JJ’s back.

Neither made eye contact as the Ferris wheel spun around, the carnival blurring out as they picked up speed. 

They turned once, twice, a third time, before it slowed to a stop and people began to exit. 

JJ no longer felt the acute fear of heights tug at her stomach, on the contrary, now it was the knowledge that she had just made out with her floormate weighing on her mind. 

Her head was spinning and her lips tingled with the memory of the kiss. Her blood roared in her ears, as anxiety took over as her brain flashed with all of the million ways this could go terribly wrong. 

Wordlessly, they dismounted and waited quietly for the rest of their group, who all babbled about how pretty the wheel was and how Derek wouldn’t stop swaying the chair. JJ scanned their faces, wondering if anyone could tell what had happened.

JJ drifted alongside the group, lost in her thoughts, unable to meet Emily’s eye, clutching her bear tightly to her chest all the way home.

[vegetarian-macan]

Macan’s Birthday 2021

As a lot of you know from following me or just watching me go completely off the rails, you’ll know that I’m very fond of Macan as a character. Unfortunately, he’s one of many characters that Lifewonders has introduced with an intriguing characterization that is shelved for the same joke over an over again. You know the one.

This post is going to be exploring that concept, and the ramifications it has on his character and how these beliefs affect him in his Date Quest. All information presented will be from his appearances that are lore-heavy, as well as some of my own inferences. Everything will be under the cut because this is going to be a little long.

And fair warning, I will be getting mentioning topics such as suicide and human trafficking as it is a part of his character, keep this in mind as you read.

First, let’s start with the lore that appears in his character quest (the first one, hoping for a second at some point), as that came first. The beginning starts with Macan speaking about how he woke up one day in a jungle with no memory besides the knowledge to find water, food and shelter, and the belief that if one consumes another, they will live on within you. He soon saw that he was a weretiger, with no recollection of how this transformation happened in the first place. In the scene in Chapter 3 where Macan and the MC are discussing himself, he brings up a theory of how this happened, saying that a tiger may have become human, or a human became a tiger. Either way, two beings were killed, and one was reborn from them.

He was unique in the world of Shangri-La, no one else was like him, as strong as him. He was unlike anything there, which made him truly and utterly alone. He hated what little time he spent as a weretiger in Shangri-La, being unable to speak to others as they were afraid of him, and with no one to talk to, he soon began to go mad. When the past Macan appears in his character quest, and the protagonist and the Macan from Tokyo have to fight him, he has a few lines of dialogue about how there’s no one around to answer his calls anymore, no one to listen to him. How he hates being alone.

After he is defeated, this past Macan cries about how he’s going to die alone, that he isn’t just another beast, he’s Someone. It is implied subtly in this scene that had he not been Summoned to Tokyo Macan would have either gone completely mad or committed suicide. Thankfully, this was avoided, although the result to being Summoned was less than ideal, which I will talk about later.

There is a scene in his character quest, right before Past Macan appears, that is explored in his date quest. While bathing in a lake together in the jungle, Macan brings up that with the protagonist there, being in Shangri-La is different. He’s more comfortable, he has someone to talk with now. He mentions that if he could, he’d want to go back to Shangri-La and live there forever with the MC, before stating that if he dies first, he’d want you to eat him.

As for his date quest, let’s set the scene with some lore provided in-game. It opens up with this: 

A world where the horizon is lost. This is the homeworld of Macan, Shangri-La. It is said that it is at the end of the mountain called Hourai "the end of Kunlun" and "behind Deva Loka". That is, it is "on the opposite side of the never-ending road" where people believe in "Reverse Reincarnation". In a world dominated by this faith, death does not mean the end of existence. They believed that even if the physical body was destroyed, the astral body and the spirit would continue living on in a separate state. They could continue living as long as the body, astral body and spirit were not all destroyed at the same time, which is the eternity that Shangri-La promised. 

Macan brings this fact up when he is introduced; those that he consume live on within him, and whoever shall consume him he will live on in them. This is the faith by which he lives his life. No living being is exempt from this rule in Shangri-La, which is most likely part of the reason that Macan has hangups over consuming animals like fish and livestock. They have no choice in how they die, and he cannot be comfortable eating them like that. 

As you may remember, Macan states, or rather implies, that he has eaten people that have lost in a duel against him before. He is completely comfortable with this aspect, seeing it as a natural result to things because, in his homeworld, it is. This is not shared by the residents of Tokyo and other worlds, however, with characters such as Suzuka and Nomad being put off by this. But there is a reason for why he fights the way he does.

Within Shangri-La there was a cycle that persisted up until the creation of the Macan we know, one that was completely broken by the actions of a single human. This cycle was the creation of the Weretiger King, and is explained in his Date Quest as follows:

The weretiger known as Macan Gadungan is also a believer of this faith [see above]. When a creature like him is created, a human is consumed by a beast. The human's spirit is then reborn in the body of this beast. The name of the magangadungan is known throughout Shangri-La as the king of the jungle where many monsters are said to roam. However, it is the opposite that is true. It is not the strongest magan becomes king, it is that the strongest king becomes a magan. Even the toughest bodies will eventually decay, and so even the strongest man will rise from his chair. But there was still a way in this world to make one's faith eternal. The way to accomplish this is to be eaten by a King and to become their flesh and blood. Even if one's body is consumed, as long as the rest lives on, so too will you. Therefore, it is the former king's fate to be eaten by a new king, and live on.* They will be reborn into a new body. The king of the jungle must then remain the best as well as fascinating target that everyone will want to eat. Until the day they too are consumed, no one can defeat them.

*(I’m aware of the contradiction here, but I will not know the correct translation of this section until it is translated officially)

Macan, or the human he once was, managed to stop this cycle, this loop, in its tracks by turning it on it’s head. The challenger is never supposed to defeat the King, and yet, he did. And so, every past King, every instance of this Weretiger King and the human Macan used to be were fused together, and became a new Weretiger King. One that hadn’t been seen before in that world. 

Soon after, he was Summoned to Tokyo, and sold on the black market run by Daikoku. His date quest explores as well, stating that his time as a prisoner was spent in a cage, shuffled between owners and trying to take pieces of him to use for medicine, leather, meat, anything they could take from him. And yet, he continued to live on, his immortality coming from the jungle of Shangri-La, and the former kings that now made up his existence.

He escaped by mauling one of his captors, and presumably picked up by Claude while he was on the run. Those captors of his wanted his flesh and blood, and it was something he would never give them willingly. 

The same cannot be said for the protagonist, or whoever he is paired with in his Date Quest.

During this quest, Macan’s beliefs are tested when he goes to finally consume the protagonist while they lay on the private beach, and he can’t go through with it. Even with his jaws around their throat, he cannot make the final push. Why?

You see, up until this point, Macan had lived by, essentially, the law of equivalent exchange. Give and take, in equal amounts. The bare minimum was given to him whenever someone interacted with him, and Macan gave the same back. So what happens when someone gives him more than that? What happens when he wants more than just the bare minimum? This part addresses that; his beliefs crumble under him.

Macan believes that he can’t ask for more than the bare minimum from others, their flesh and blood, because it would be going against the nature of the weretiger kings, to want nothing from others and also embracing your own personal desires to the fullest. This was what he learned in Shangri-La, the way to prove that he was alive and existed. It was simple, it was an easy world to live in with this belief. But it wasn’t enough for him, not when it came to the person he loved.

Macan wanted more from them; their flesh, blood, soul, everything. He wanted their time, their friendship, their love and adoration. But something deep in his being told him he didn’t deserve it, that they won’t reciprocate this need. The parts of himself, the human, the tiger, and the one that is neither and both, all want different things, and it confused him. Startled him. Scared him.

In the end, he realizes that if he were to kill and eat them, he would lose them. They would be apart of his existence from there on, but they wouldn’t be there. He would no longer be able to see them smile, sit with them on the beach, fight together with them. Which is a loss he couldn’t take, and was prepared to throw away his entire way of life to preserve that bliss. Were they to ask the same of him, he would give them everything he was without hesitation.

His date quest ends ambiguously, which is fitting. The player gets to decide how Macan and the one he has fallen for continue with their life. To follow one’s beliefs, or stop and reconsider when the price to pay is the one you love.

[frizz22]

Book Review pt 2

Prompt from @somethingwicked19: Book review ch. 91 part two where the sisters talk and reconcile. Read on ao3 here

Wow, sorry for the complete lack of anything written for ages. I hope some of you who sent me prompts a while ago are still round to enjoy them when I get to them. Enjoy!

Hilda watched Zelda flee, not that her sister would ever call it such, and guilt roiled through her.

She didn’t handle that properly.

Well, to be honest, she shouldn’t have written the book this way in the first place. It was one thing to pull inspiration from real life, it was quite another to cruelly denigrate her sister in the process.

Especially... especially when Zelda was right. Her sister had encouraged her relationship with Cee, dried her tears over a misunderstood rejection, and helped with the Damascus steel.

It’d just been so easy, though. Hilda could hardly write ill of the dead, and it wasn’t as though Edward would disapprove in any case, not with his enthrallment with mortals. And then there was Zelda’s reaction to Diana.

Write what she knew.

That was the advice Cee gave when she expressed an interest in writing a book. And, well, Hilda knew all too well how her sister acted in the past to relationships with mortals; making her the villain fit with the story line and, really, once her characters came clean about their respective abilities—demon and witch—another obstacle needed to be thrown at them or the book would’ve been woefully short.

Still, insisting the villain be a ‘loveless, spinster hag’, especially when Hilda certainly didn’t see Zelda that way, was a misstep to say the least. Then sharing it with the students when the other comparisons were obvious was another.... Hilda had just been so excited about it and wanted to share her accomplishment with everyone that she hadn’t stopped to think.

Perhaps she should have shared it with Zelda first... but Hilda now knew why she hadn’t done that, because on some unconscious level, she knew she was in the wrong.

Collecting herself, Hilda quickly checked on the students once more before going to find her sister and apologize; the bare minimum she could do. Thankfully, Zelda only went as far as her office; they were still in the midst of a crisis, after all and her sister was never one to shirk her duties.

Tentatively knocking on the door, Hilda stepped inside. “Zelds?”

“Not now, Hilda, this ‘hag’ has work to do.” Zelda snapped, not looking up from the documents in front of her.

Heart clenching at how Zelda immediately shrouded herself in the insult, wearing it like a badge so it couldn’t be used against her, Hilda shut the door behind her. “And this awful sister needs to apologize.” She murmured, tugging at the ends of her sleeves.

Jaw jutting to the side, Zelda scoffed. “Perhaps, but it’s for your benefit, not mine. You only feel guilty now that I’ve confronted you. If you truly felt bad about the contents of that book, you’d never have published it. Let alone spread it like poison through the entire coven.”

Hilda grimaced and moved closer. “I lacked a lot of foresight regarding the book, and you’re right, I never should have shared it with the coven. I let my excitement over actually publishing something blind me to the consequences. I’m sorry, I know it changes nothing, but I am sorry. You did support me and Cee, it was wrong to suggest otherwise, even if it was in fiction.” She admitted, still trying to catch her sister’s eye and failing. “But I think my bigger blunder was never realizing what pain you went through during and after the Caligari spell.”

That caught Zelda’s attention, she stiffened and then swallowed hard. “Nonsense.”

Undeterred, Hilda pressed on. “Zelds, you used the word torturous—"

Her sister’s hands slammed onto the desk suddenly, startling Hilda. “Torturous because of boredom.” Zelda retorted harshly, though her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears as she continued to focus on the papers in front of her. “I was trapped inside my head and forced to listen to Faustus blather on and on, Hell knew how I longed to roll my eyes and slap him quiet. You misunderstood me.”

Tears welling, Hilda edged a bit closer. “I don’t think I did.” She whispered.

Muscles in her cheek twitching, Zelda shook her head. “You did. You misunderstood. That spell, it was just mind numbing, literally. Nothing—" her voice cracked, “nothing else happened. Besides, Faustus and I never loved one another, I said as much when he proposed, and he proved as much with the Caligari.” Struggling to contain herself, Zelda added. “So, your description might be more on point than I originally thought. Loveless...” she scoffed a little wetly, “how apt. Now leave, I’ve work to do.” She waved a hand to dismiss Hilda further.

“No.” Hilda stated firmly, arms crossing. “I was cruel. I made our petty fights public, at least the times you were cruel you kept it at home, so no one bore witness to it. I—"

Her sister finally looked at her, face hard. “I couldn’t care less about this trash you’ve written.” She snarled, eyes flashing. But Hilda could see straight through the lie, straight through the mask and see the pain lurking in Zelda’s eyes.

She sighed, knowing when to pick her battles after centuries of fights, perhaps they’d revisit this book topic when Zelda wasn’t quite so raw. “Then we’ll forget about the book, I just wanted to make sure I apologized for it.” She paused, giving Zelda one last chance to contradict her, to carry on so they could fully clear the air, but her sister merely cocked an unimpressed brow. Exhaling softly, Hilda pressed in. “I won’t let the effects of the Caligari spell go, though.” On that, Hilda was adamant. She should have realized, shouldn’t have let Zelda go back once free. This, this was a battle she’d chose until the end of time. Hilda couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let her sister continue to suffer in silence.

A mocking laugh emanated from Zelda. “You won’t let it go?” She scoffed and wiped her eyes in what she likely thought a discreet manner. “Hilda, this matter doesn’t concern you. It clearly didn’t concern you while it was ongoing, seeing as I remained under the spell for a good time after I returned home. It clearly didn’t concern you once it was lifted and I went back under its pretense. So, the aftereffects certainly don’t concern you either.” Eyes blazing, Zelda was breathing heavily by the end of her speech.

Wounded by the not entirely unwarranted diatribe, Hilda pressed her lips together to keep her chin from trembling, because despite herself, Zelda just admitted to there being aftereffects. And this slip told Hilda more than anything else, because if her normally tight lipped and controlled sister was letting things slip, it was far worse than Hilda imagined. Composing herself with a little difficulty, Hilda swallowed. “Zelds, please, you’re right. Of course you are, but please, help me understand. I want to help, however you’ll let me.”

“And if I won’t let you?” Zelda scoffed, and Hilda could practically see her sister’s walls climbing even higher.

She closed the remaining distance between them and reached to touch Zelda’s hand where it lay clenched on the desk. “Then I’ll be here until you do.” Hilda murmured softly, forcing herself not to cry when Zelda jerked her hand away.

Huffing, Zelda ran her tongue over her teeth. “I suppose I’ve no say in the matter? That you’ll make yourself a nuisance until I allow you to help?” And though her tone was laced with derision, the way Zelda looked at her told Hilda that her persistence was what her sister needed.

That after everything—after Blackwood’s abuse, the coven labeling her a bitch, Sabrina loosing Lucifer, Hilda betraying her trust—what her sister needed most was a demonstration that someone truly did care and would stand by her side.

Not that Zelda would ever admit to as much.

But Hilda knew her sister. Could read between the lines and behind the stoic masks, and she refused to be pushed away by venomous words or actions when she knew this was an unhealthy coping mechanism she triggered with her book.

Persistence.

It was something Hilda would only be too happy to provide if it meant repairing what she broke with the book, and perhaps the same persistence would help Hilda patch up some other pieces of Zelda that she refused to acknowledge were hurting.

Squaring her shoulders, Hilda nodded curtly. “Correct, you’ve no say in the matter. I’m here for you, Zelds, always, whether you like it or not.”

Lips twisting for a moment in unveiled emotion, Zelda quickly regained herself and rolled her eyes. “Fine. It seems you’re adamant and arguing with you is a waste of time. I’ve much to do, Hilda, if you insist on helping me, I suggest you go back to the infirmary and check on the students.”

Another clear dismissal, though this time Hilda took her leave, but not before quickly catching Zelda’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. When her sister didn’t flinch, pull away, or hurl some insult at her, Hilda smiled softly and hurried back to the infirmary.

Everything wasn’t fixed, far from it, their relationship too complex for easy solutions… but Hilda knew they’d taken a step in the right direction. Knew she loved her sister and that Zelda loved her just as fiercely back, and if on occasion it seemed otherwise, well, thank goodness witches lived so long, so that they might show those they loved how much they truly meant and deserved.

[regrettablewritings]

Can I request a Love head canon with Geralt please? I just read the pre-relationship one you did for Jaskier and I absolutely loved it!!

I mean... I can try 😅 Though, I think it should go without saying that Geralt isn’t exactly synonymous with love and affection as we relatively human beings interpret them . . .

Who said “I love you” first?: Assuming we’re sticking strictly to the verbal expression of the phrase, I believe you already know the answer to this. After all, it’s simply not in Geralt’s nature to be the most talkative person, much less vulnerable and affectionate. And that’s referring to his nature as being Geralt of Rivia and not specifically his nature of being a Witcher. You could wait an entire run of three human lifetimes and still potentially have to wait just a bit more to hear Geralt willingly say, “I love you” in this manner. It’s nothing against you, of course, but it’s better for you to recognize this and accept it than force otherwise. Besides, it’s not as though he doesn’t appreciate it: Deep down, Geralt is beyond startled that you would willingly apply such affection and devotion to him of all people, and a Witcher at that! Though, if you’re willing to stretch the expression one uses for “I Love you”, then it’s arguable that Geralt said it first, in some way, considering that . . .

What are their primary love languages?: Geralt is a very . . . sexual being. Physically aggressive. And considering his complex relationship with Yennefer, it therefore would stand to reason that his primary expression of “love” comes in the form of physical touch. Hell, if love languages were a thing acknowledged of the period (and if Geralt ever even cared to acknowledge them), he might’ve grunted and agreed so himself, even if only to get the conversation over faster. But the longer he spends having you as his companion, the more evident it becomes to him that this may not be the case. The thing is, physical touch can be more than just sexual release -- but for him, that’s all it ever was, simply because it was easier for him to do when Yennefer was still around. But since then, he’s come to recognize that perhaps he has more to offer than he gave himself credit for: Geralt operates through acts of service. Geralt is never going to be the most openly expressive one of the bunch, even when it pertains to you. But he’s always going to show his care for those whom he has a soft spot for by assuring their safety and well-being -- in odds and ends, so to speak. He’s never going to write you sonnets or wax poetically to you; he will rarely hold your hand just for the sake of doing so, or be the best at offering words that could technically be comprehended as affectionate. But when he notices you’re tired, he won’t hesitate to place you on Roach’s back -- an absolute honor, considering his protectiveness towards the mare. He’ll make sure that you’re warm and sheltered when you break camp, even if it comes at the cost of his own comfort (not that he feels much of a difference after this point anyway). If he thinks you may be doing something or even considering doing something that might put you in harm’s way or cause you mental or emotional pain, he’s unafraid to shoot that shit down (he loves you enough to let you hate him, so to speak). It may be the bare minimum that he saves you from a death of cold or starvation or hazardous encounters, but for him, it’s a way of showing he at least respects your right to continue living. He doesn’t really expect anything back besides respect. And perhaps some . . . physical comforts. But, once again, to his surprise, he’s not solely focused on physical touch when it comes to you. At least, not as intensely as he normally would be. What Geralt specifically appreciates form you is words of affirmation. But only from you: None of that showy, obnoxious nonsense that Jaskier calls music. Geralt likes feeling recognized as a person, questionable as that sort of title might actually be. He just likes being talked to to a degree, over small things. The affirmations come where you openly appreciate him for his efforts and bravery, and even when you thank him for taking care of you. Being a Witcher is a thankless job. But hearing you appreciate him for everything, big and small, and acknowledging his more humanistic traits at the same time? It does him more good than both you and he ever thought it could.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?: The closest you get is when the two of you are either in a very crowded market place or are running and you’re having trouble keeping up: He’ll hold your hand to assure you don’t get separated or left behind. There’s also, of course, the preservation of body heat when the both of you wind up breaking camp on a particularly cold night.  But other than that, I wouldn’t expect much in the ways of affection.

What are their favorite things to do together?: The lifestyle you both lead (well, that Geralt leads -- you simply adopted it by association) doesn’t exactly lend itself well to couples’ hobbies . . . But the two of you haven’t bitten each other’s throats out yet, so clearly you’re doing something right, no? You aren’t quite sure what it is, but you heavily suspect that it might be when you ask Geralt to tell you about the creatures he’s encountered. Not in the “Tell Me Stories of Your Amazing Feats” kind of way, but more so in a manner of “Please Make Me Aware of the Weird, Strange, and Horrific Beings Lurking in This World and How To Combat Them”. Which suits Geralt well enough, as he tends to skimp on the details and doesn’t care to describe battles or anything of the sort. He knows that you’ll never be a Witcher, but it surely couldn’t hurt you to have an awareness of the world around you. Besides, he’s witnessed far too often the slaughtering of perfectly harmless creatures due to ignorance -- he feels a sense of relief when you express an interest in learning how to differentiate beasts with intentions of harm and beasts that simply want to be left alone unless provoked.

Who’s better at comforting the other?: Neither of you is especially great at it, but for different reasons. Though it should at least be said that you’re better skilled at comforting than Geralt is: You by far are the more emotionally available and intelligent one between the two of you, so the efforts you put forward are at least more overt. However, given that Geralt is a rather standoffish person and not especially prone to expressing vulnerabilities of any kind, it’s hard for you to know if you’re getting through to him. He won’t make it blatantly obvious if something is bothering him unless it’s bothering him in a way that earns his aggression -- and even then, he doesn’t need comfort, he needs you to gently chide him and calm him down as one does to an agitated horse or dog. Or a wolf, in this case. Meanwhile, Geralt . . . just isn’t the best at comforting people. At least, not in the most traditional sense. When he tries to be, it comes off very awkwardly, the words not filled confidence as much as they are hesitancy. It’s only made worse by the fact that his gruff, barely-used voice just isn’t compatible with the words he tries to use. Which is why he feels the best he can really offer to do is just say nothing at all. He won’t reject you or even flinch if you were to bury yourself into his side, instead just slowly placing an arm around you and trying to give a consoling, if stiff, pat on the back. Please know that this is him trying his best, and that he’ll be far more relieved than you’ll be if you actually do find some semblance of comfort in his seemingly low-effort efforts.

Who’s more protective?: Geralt wouldn’t consider what he does protection -- it’s simply what he, well, does. He’s always fighting creatures (and people) in self-defense or for a cause of some kind. And whenever Jaskier joins the two of you, or once Ciri becomes a part of his life, the job only intensifies. Him keeping you alive is simply common decency, lover or not. But if one were to ask someone who’s more emotionally observant like, say, a certain bard who occasionally accompanies the two of you, then he would beg to differ: Geralt is fiercely protective of you, he just does so quietly. Contrary to his stony nature,he does value your well-being. And even if you’re a commendable fighter, he acknowledges that it’s not as up to snuff as his own, making him feel more obligated to assure you come out of encounters alive and well. This is more obvious in the wilderness, of course, but when it comes to civilization he tends to become a bit more lax. He trusts you enough to measure your options when, say, some men at a pub are making particularly bawdy comments about you. He also trusts you to know when to whip out that knife you always keep on you. However, you needn’t worry about him turning a blind eye, should things threaten to escalate: Whether you’re at a marketplace buying some necessities, or paying for your meal at a tavern, Geralt is never so far away that he can’t keep a close eye on you or be unable to step in, should the environment intensify.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?: Geralt likes verbal affirmations, yes, but don’t discount physical: At least he doesn’t have to talk or respond when at the end of a long day, you sit next to him and nuzzle your head up to the crook of his neck. Plus there’s the whole intimacy he experiences for the first time in its true form when you and he finally decide to take that step.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?: Hm. It’s hard to say, especially considering that Geralt is a hard person to apply music to, much less music with a narrative or one that actually sounds like anything he might listen to, particularly in a romantic setting. I had to push past that mindset just to pick anything, and what that got me to conclude was something along the lines of “Love Like You” by Rebecca Sugar or "Resilience” by Thomas Newman. Maybe “My Blood” by Twenty-One Pilots. I can’t place exactly how or why, especially sound-wise, but these just stood out to me in particular . . .

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?: You two don’t really resort to nicknames, actually. “Geralt” isn’t exactly an easy name to harvest a nickname out of, and he doesn’t do anything that particularly warrants one in reference to an idiosyncrasy. The closest you ever got was trying out “Wolfy” in reference to his title as “The White Wolf” but the look the attempt received, coupled with your own realized distaste for it, made you drop it in an instant. And Geralt just isn’t the sort to apply nicknames in the first place.

Thank you for requesting this! I hope I did okay . . .