#regardless the last thing any of us needs is a long hiatus

[ingydar-phan]

Ok I do want to chime in on the convo but actually this is gonna be really long because I’ve been planning to make a huge post about this since the tour trailer came out. Like genuinely I messaged some people asking for tips on how to make a big conversation post weeks ago and then just never did it. So here goes I guess.

I am a firm believer they are going to hard launch soon. In some way shape or form. Before tour starts. That is a stance I have held ever since I watched pizza mukbang 2. And I have explanations.

My main points come from the coming out parallel surrounding Dans internalized homophobia and trauma responses and fear of rejection (more on that later), and also my hypothesized “3 stages” of the gaming channel revival.

I believe that when the gaming channel was revived, starting with the Heartthrob video, they entered stage 1: experimenting with audiences desire for a return to content. This was a phase they themselves discussed in Dans Birthday Stream and in Pizza Mukbang 2. The first few months were experimenting with what a new audience would look like and how much they were wanted, in what contexts, and what kind of content. I also think this wraps into the dynamic difference between Dan and Phil as people. Note, I love them both dearly and want nothing but the best for them both. It has been made clear that they did very different things during the hiatus, with Phil initiating the gaming channel comeback. Before Dan came out, he was under an immense feeling of guilt and pressure, even by his own mind. He had the option of leaving the internet forever, and he certainly considered it. Finish off the gaming channel, go on one last tour, and leave. Never having to adress anything again. But he didn’t do that. He came back. He came out. And he was greeted with the kindest, warmest, most accepting response. And he did work! He wrote a book! He went on a solo tour! And to echo both Dan himself and all of the community, he needed this. He needed this time of healing and this era of self discovery. He wouldn’t be who he is today without it, and I’m so proud of him.

But Phil? Oh Phil was just cruising along. That’s not at all to discredit any form of hardship Phil went through, but it certainly wasn’t the same. Phil was making content before Dan was, back in 2006. In uni, Phil was comfortable in his sexuality (or some form of queerness). But he waited. He waited to come out until Dan was ready. Because he’s a wonderful partner. He was happy continuing Amazingphil regardless of hiatus, of Dans needs, because he knew he didn’t have to pressure Dan into anything he didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. And then, presumably when Dan was ready, Phil proposed a gaming channel comeback. Just try it out, just see how it feels, low commitment. And what happened? Once again, they were showered with love and adoration and support and acceptance. Was the fandom different than how it used to be? Absolutely. But it was beautiful and loving. So that’s stage 1. Experimenting with content and viewership and re-entering the branding of Dan and Phil (Games).

Then, I believe after stage 1 came stage 2. Experimenting with audience reaction to Dan and Phil as a couple. I want to stake my claim here that everything they do is meticulously curated. Sure, Phil’s toe popping out of his sock wasn’t purposeful, but it was certainly handled intentionally. They’re extremely seasoned creators, and everything they do is for a reason. (That’s why I love rpf hehe). This, my “stage 2”, is when they were dipping their toes more into phan stuff. The orange heart. The “gay” community tab. Using the “ph-“ prefix THEMSELVES a lot more. Dab and Evan comparisons. This was the middle ground. How would people react? Would they turn away because it’s too much? Would they begin stalking and creeping all over again? Or would they accept these people for what they are. As much as people like to think Dan and Phil are just silly whimsical guys who are perfect no matter what they do (which is accurate as well tbf), they also know what they’re doing. They do these things on purpose to gauge audience reaction, to see how people feel about it. As others have said, what we see publicly is just a tiny sliver of their real life. Yea, even the domestic videos. It’s curated. And it’s wonderful. It’s so endearing they choose to share these things. Even in times of uncertainty. But that uncertainty was met with absolute acceptance.

Which is how we get into stage 3. I think “stage 3” started developing around the time of Dans Birthday Stream, but really actually started when the tour trailer was posted, and then all the videos after that (pizza mukbang, dressing each other, chained together, tiktoks, etc etc). So, very recently. But something shifted. Maybe it’s in the air, maybe it’s just me, maybe we all need to go outside. But something shifted. Dan and Phil, but especially Dan, saw how they were being accepted and took that as an affirmation. An affirmation that everything is going to be okay. They can commit now. They can go full on. Full hard launch.

I think everyone has a different definition of hard launch, and even I think it varies by context. But what I mean here is not necessarily them making some video called “Dan and Phil are romantically together” and staring at the camera with a gun to their head. It doesn’t, and shouldn’t, have to be that.

Straight people get this privilege of being assumed straight without having to “come out”. They get this comfort of having relationships without having to scream it in everyone’s faces.

And I do indeed agree with what people mean when they say they have already hard launched. They’re husbands, soulmates, 4000 year old tortoises, “basically any other gay couple”, more than just romantic, yea. I get it. But people are fucking stupid. Non-queer people don’t understand nuance, and need everything handed to them on a silver platter. Dan and Phil are together. People who try to twist and turn to try and “prove” they’re anything but a committed romantic and sexual relationship are ignorant at best, but mainly using homophobic wishful thinking. However, there’s more to go. There’s a reason we’re all “terrified” for what is to come. Because everything, the past 15 years of all of our lives, of their life, is coming together. It’s genuinely beautiful.

So what do I mean by hard launch then? Well, I mean a lack of censorship (besides what’s reasonable. Though we’d all love to see them fuck on YouTube, I’m not sure that’s happening any time soon). I mean a lack of shame. A lack of hiding. And it’s already begun. That’s what I feel stage 3 to be and have been. In pizza mukbang 2, they say things such as “cheers dear”, which is intentional. The “gay uncles” and the “kneeing” is all intentional. It’s not just throwaway jokes, it’s them looking us in the eyes and saying “we see you”. I have a whole list of stage 3 things. The intentional Incohearant cards. The “my face hurts from smiling” comments. THE HANDS ON THE SHOULDER TO THE HAND ON THE KNEE. Them being so open about their secluded romantic holiday. The relentless Phil bottom jokes. The yaoi day tweet from the outfits video. The “who would jump for you like that dog jumped for that man” “you”. It’s all there. It’s all intentional. And I’m so grateful for it.

One of my mutuals who I talked about this with (not gonna name cuz idk if they want me to) talked about their theory that DNP have given barely any info about tour because it requires some form of hard launch to preface it. And honestly? I didn’t even realize that was a theory. I sort of already accepted that as fact. How open IS the door gonna be?

So yea, I hope this makes sense. Please feel free to respond with or send asks of any nuances or questions or theories you’d like to add. I don’t intend this to be shaming anyone who thinks differently. Even if I may vehemently disagree with someone in my head, I don’t think these people are evil or malicious or objectively bad or deserving of hate. These are just my thoughts. I’ll likely be adding more. Thanks for reading.

[bokettochild]

🎶For the twelfth day of Christmas, my Ketto gave to me-🎶

Closure!!!!!

So, I've been talking about this for a fair bit now and debating the logistics, and I have decided to do it: A Christmas of Closure!

I have so many unfinished/on hiatus fics, some that never got past the first part, and this is my effort to (1) relieve myself of the guilt of not finishing them and (2) give a bit of closure to the readers who still wanted more from the story.

How does it work? You guys can choose any story of mine that you wanted to see more of, and the first twelve will get a little love this holiday season, with me posting one update every day leading up to Christmas, and ending on Christmas day with either whatever I was most excited to share, or what took me the longest and I needed more time for LOL

They key to this is that it's stories I've already started, so rather than spending half my writing time trying to figure out what it's going to be about, I'll hopefully just be giving words to something that's sat in my brain for the last few months/years. I'll get to share with you what was supposed to happen, while maybe jump-starting my own creative process so maybe (no promises) I'll actually be able to finish the story! (Again, NO promises, but also I hope so!!!)

(Specifics below)

All stories are on the table with the exception of TBBU, since that's already a work in progress and I will get there independently (*she lied, like a liar*). There might be others that have reached their natural end as well, and I'm not up to making zombies, but I can't name any right off, so go nuts and choose whatever you feel has been on life support for too long :)

Whumptober/Sicktember/Febuwhump prompts are up from grabs, but only in the form of continuations of already written pieces. I will not be writing prompts that I failed to post on time in this challenge (maybe another time)

The age of the fic doesn't matter, but be aware I might not be able to capture the same voice as I used to use. My writing style has changed and developed, but I will try and match my own freak when I can.

You CAN ask for specific things! I will not take unkindly to you popping in to say "write an update for story XYZ and maybe have ABC happen?" I can't promise that ABC will happen of course, because maybe that's not what was meant to happen, but I promise to consider any and all suggestions regardless, and try and make a Christmas present that you'll enjoy :)

The stories will get posted starting on the 14th of December and ending on December 25. There will not be an Ao3 collection, but I will have a master-list here on tumblr.

I hope that covers everything, but if you have any questions I didn't answer, please feel free to send an ask, so I can answer publicly, in the case others had the same question <3

[southangel]

hey babes! just discovered your page and im literally obsessed 😍 you are so talented and i love the works so far!

since you've already done one for kyle and kenny, would it be possible to get an nsfw alphabet for stan?

Stan Marsh NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: NSFW content, MDNI

Notes: Thank you!! These compliments have been making me so motivated lately. I’m SO sorry for taking so long on this, i’ve been so busy it’s crazy. Probably will be my last smut-related work in a while since i’m taking a small hiatus on them.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Stan would be caring after sex, but too tired to do a lot.

He’ll get you a cup of water and clean you up as much as he can, but after that he’ll probably just knock out on the spot.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Stan’s favorite body part for himself would be his mouth.

He can do so much with his mouth, and he uses it to his advantage every time.

For you, his favorite body part would be your eyes.

Stan loves how just by looking at your eyes, he can read so much emotion from everything that he’s doing to you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically...)

Stan doesn’t care whether things get messy or not.

His cum would be a little thick, the easiest to stain as well.

Stan would not care where it gets. He prefers to cum inside of you, but your stomach or back is just fine.

Don’t swallow it, he’ll get really embarrassed..

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Stan is pretty experimental, not too much though, but enough to want to try new things.

He’s always wanted you to try overstimulating him, but he would just get too embarrassed about it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Stan has some experience, but isn’t an expert at anything for sure, so you had a good first time with him.

He’s still getting the hang of things, even if it might take a while to remember everything that you like and don’t.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Stan does not care whatever position you choose, but he loves whenever you do his favorites.

He loves Cowgirl, he will cry at the thought of you straddling and riding him.

Does not mind spooning you at all, loves cuddle fucking for lazy days.

Stan would probably stray away from positions where he can’t see you well.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Stan would be in the middle between serious and silly, not leaning towards any side.

It really just depends on how he’s feeling most of the time, but tries to lighten things up regardless.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Stan isn’t as well groomed, but it isn’t that bad.

Just short black hair, not that noticeable.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...) 

Stan tries to be romantic, but fails horribly at it.

He isn’t sure how to portray his love for you in the best way, so he just wings it.

He does his best though, and you appreciate him for trying, even though he can be really awkward.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Stan will jack off, is not ashamed of it at all.

If he’s ever upset or moody while you aren’t there, he will resort to it.

Stan is pretty touch starved, so he might cry until you come back, just a bit.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Please talk to Stan dirty, he loves it.

It turns him on a lot, so do it.

Stan also doesn’t mind being marked a bit, even if it’s just a simple scratch or hickey.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom is a classic, but not his favorite.

Stan’s favorite location would be the shower.

Even if it can be space limiting, the sight of the water across your body just makes it so much better.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything could get Stan turned on, but he really just needs to get in the mood.

Whenever he thinks of past experiences with you two together, that’s already enough to turn him on.

Or just tight clothing, anything could work.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Stan is fine with degradation, but there’s a point where he stops liking it.

If you degrade him, don’t do it too far or he’ll genuinely get annoyed, don’t make it personal either.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Loves receiving.

Stan wants to give as well, but he can’t really handle his preferences when you’re handling him so nicely.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, for sure.

If he’s ever feeling really romantic, he’ll be more slow and sensual.

Stan fucks more than he makes love, which is why he’s more rough.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t mind quickies at all.

If Stan ever just needs a quick break or a little release of anger, quickies are his go to.

They’re quick and easy, perfect for when he’s in a rush.

Still likes proper sex a bit more, but there’s really no preference for him.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Open to risks and experiments, depends what they are though.

Stan doesn’t mind leaving a door or two open, maybe a window, but probably won’t risk it with his parents.

It’s not like he really cared about them, he just wants to avoid Randy’s constant nagging.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

It depends on how influenced Stan is for how long he can last.

Normally does 2-3 rounds, can be 4 if he’s really eager.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I don’t think Stan would use toys on himself, or really own them.

Maybe he would own a few, but just for you.

He wouldn’t mind using a blindfold on you for fun, but then he won’t be able to see your eyes..

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Stan loves teasing, not towards him.

He will scream and ignore you if you tease him, but he loves doing it to you so much.

He loves how he can make you react so much just by a few words, so it’s only natural that he wants to keep doing it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud. Definitely loud.

Stan does not care how loud he is or what sounds he makes, risks don’t concern him.

He says that it’s his way of showing how much he enjoys what you’re doing, yet he shuts you up when you’re loud.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I don’t think Stan would take off his hat during sex.

You can still touch his hair from under his hat, but he won’t take it off.

Don’t try taking it off, he’ll just get more aggressive.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

For Stan, I would say about 5.0 inches, 12.7 centimeters.

Would gain extra length when hard, not too much.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Stan loves you a lot, so he’s probably always excited.

To put it on a scale, I would say about 7/10, 7.5-8/10 on really good days.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Gets super tired easily.

Don’t be surprised if Stan falls asleep before cleaning you up first, he doesn’t mean it!

He’ll try to do the best he can caring for you first though.

“I swear I can go for longer, you’re just stressing me out..”

[kawaakari-orchestra]

KWKO accouchement: is this a hiatus yet or are we just on break?~ ✨

Hi! Jay here. If you follow my main or received that information by means unknown to me, then you already know the last batch of area conversations was the last one... For now.

With a whopping 57 dialogues and not a sign of a coherent plot in sight, we've reached the point where it's impossible to write more area conversations or answer around 90% of the questions currently in the askbox without going into spoiler territory - something I would rather avoid. In other words, it's about time for me to start working on something I've been putting off for very, very long time - writing KWKO Main Story.

After much creative deliberation I have decided to opt for a different format than just writing it out like a novel - that being imitation of pjsk event reader websites like pjsk wiki and sekai.best. There are absolutely drawbacks to this, with some of them being quite substantial; lack of live2d will not do dialogue justice like visual novels do.

With that said, there are also a lot of benefits, most prominently, being able to switch POV at any time and keeping closer to pjsk's spirit, as well as very significantly cutting down my own workload.

At some point (unclear as of now) I will also be adapting the main story, and probably most if not all of the events, into fanfic format as well, but for now I want to focus on actually finishing it and presenting it in a readable condition before the end of August. That won't be happening unless I fully focus on doing just that, so all of the other activities will be temporarily put on hold.

Askbox is considered closed; I may or may not answer the ones I already have on my own discretion. The function itself will remain active for the sake of fanart or otherwise fan-content submissions as well as the opportunity to contact me directly. Please do not use it for the other purposes.

Fanart and other types of content will be reblogged as normal if the original posters wishes so (just tag me!)

I will also finish, and will at some point post the rest of the cast's rooms, but that is probably all this blog will post until a later notice.

What after?

Well, after I'm done with the writing part, I'll probably have to code an entire website to actually post the thing. I've no experience with coding, but I have curiosity and a lot of stubbornness, so we'll see what comes out of it. It's going to be a journey for sure.

Regardless, the story will be made public chapter by chapter after that; roughly once in 2-3 days.

After the prologue, this blog will host a vote for character 1★ side-stories, and those will be posted accordingly (e.g whoever comes in first will get their first side-story posted first, then second and third etc until we get to the last place, then the same cycle repeats with second side-stories). The same process will repeat after chapter 20 with characters' 2★ stories and eventually with initial 3★, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

More area conversations will be added after the entire story will be made public; I'm not sure about total number but should be around 10-15 of those.

Other than that... We'll wait and see!

I am once again extemely grateful for all the attention and love these kids are getting, and I couldn't have possibly expected that; I never thought we'll get as far as we do, but this is exactly why more thorough writing is sorely needed.

I'll be at @shiraishi--kanade as usual; you can sometimes catch me talking about these guys by #jay rambles about ocs.txt tag, mainly about the writing/planning process of it. Beware of spoilers though!

Until we meet again!

—🌻

[ post dividers by @/cafekitsune! ]

[colorful-white-ideas]

My perspective.

This is long.

Part of maturing is realize that what A and Bill have is love.

A healthy love ? No. (at least not for me) But love regardless. There are relationships that are like that and people stay due to codependency or because the thrill of it all is as addictive as any drug.

He likes that woman In ways we clearly don't understand, that's why he has not just one but 2 baby's with her. Alida also loves what he gives her although it makes her ( for what we see) very unhappy. They deserve each other at this point and will remain together until one of them find a new source of thrill or " something better".

I dont think he is being black mailed, much less that he was groomed ... they come from very similar backgrounds, there is nothing more common and older than heaven than falling in love or stablish a relationship with someone who is sooo like you.

I am at peace with the fact that they have some sort of bond that seems to be more profound than what we thought.

I don't want Bill for myself , I'm not jealous of their relationship, I do NOT want to be some one else. But when I'm being expose to their shenanigans I am very critical of their bond. Why? Because it affected the fandom , it affects more than what people think.

The constant spam from that woman , her bad public behavior and the silence / bad faces from Bill have burst out the bubble that kept this fandom alive. Content creadors like editors, fanfic writers , fan pages or simple people who randomly posted about Bill's work became bored about him and bitter about his girlfriend bc we saw a side of him and his relationship that we were never suppose to see.

Even pages that never talked about Bill personal life suddenly announced their hiatus or simply abandoned their pages because of Alida's actions. The fandon lost their muse, he started to insipire nothing.

Don't get me wrong I don't think Alida should be in the shadows, if she wants to be an influencer she can but she needs to work on her own brand , gain her own followers , find her own ways and not use Bill as trophy so she can be liked by us.

At the end of last year we witnessed a positive change , finally the window to their dynamic - relationship got closed. If they were together or not it didn't really matter , cause fi.na.lly we were all talking about him and his work and if we critize something it was about him only.

Ahhh what a breath of fresh air.

Until now...

I'm not gonna lie , that post with the baby's face covered by and emoji gave bad vibes. I don't want to be expose to more spamming of things I don't care. I hope we can keep this peace for much longer than just a couple of moths.

I see with positive eyes that this fandom can reborn , there are new projects ahead , new people is arriving , content creators are back with stories and edits and stuff. That's nice, that's good 😊

She just need to stay away, let's keep her away.

[yakultii]

i find it incredible that you managed to overcome that anxiety and send something, even if it didn't achieve the desired result. like your attempt ~a week ago, your lingering attachments to this person are apparent, and it is only a matter of how important this person is to you regardless of whether or not they are your significant other. it appears last night, the insanity came off hiatus - the hardest thing to do is try to run from it. as you mentioned previously, this person would be an important figure in your life, even only as a friend; i shouldn't speak on your behalf, but with the limited context you've given, i think the issue is more with your fear of them perceiving your current life as radically different from before.

since you haven't spoken for years now, and said you would in the past, there is a chance they have been waiting, or a chance they haven't. however, if you are too scared of finding out whether or not they still care about you to take action, it could very well haunt you for a long time, as you say. for you, more than most, it seems to take a lot more courage to reach out and catch up, but that difficulty also makes it more fulfilling in the end once you find closure. i am not a proponent of either decision, because i still can't consider all the variables needed to say whether it is a good decision or not, but from your posts, it seems you are indecisive.

in most cases, i would send a genuine message and apologize/thank them for any notable happenings, and try to move on or establish a new relationship (rather than leech off of old memories). from past experience, i can confidently say that in any circumstance, the strain of bad relationships will mellow out over time, and we will often remember and cherish the happy moments which we held most dear. seeing as though you two drifted away rather than separate due to negative circumstances (sorry if i didn't remember correctly), there is a lot more to gain if this person is like you described them; there is nothing wrong from going to life-long friends to lovers back to friends. i would say not all relationships are meant to persist, but once you overcome that initial apprehensiveness and see the person for who they truly are, it doesn't matter what you call yourselves.

our mental issues can derail us, cause us to overthink normal situations, and hesitate when our actions should be clear. i respect you for being honest with your anxiety and turmoils, and trust you to make the right decision in the end. as was mentioned before, it's best to look at the situation from a completely objective viewpoint, when you are not as overwhelmed by the endless possibilities of what could go wrong.

you'll be alright, even if you might not be in this moment - everything will work out, in the end.

I appreciate this SO MUCH genuinely and the effort u put into this message ily!!!! but rn I want to kms 😃

[violetganache42]

Thank you!

Out of curiosity, do you happen to have the source? Because I am SO upset we have to wait for a long while again for new episodes all because of this stupid pandemic. :(

I do! I would say take it with a grain of salt just because it’s not an /exact/ date.

https://www.thecinemaholic.com/ducktales-season-3-episode-8/

[su-inverted-au]

Hey! It's been a while, and I apologize for that.

I went quiet hoping that I could return with some sort of exciting announcement about resuming the comic and ending the hiatus, but as the weeks and months have passed it's getting clear that this is lasting longer than I ever anticipated and you all deserve some sort of update on my situation.

I've been having wrist and hand issues since August-September that have made it painful and difficult to use my hand. Without any healthcare, I've been spending a lot of money on various low-cost doctors and treatments over the months -- but nothing has helped and I'm still in the same situation I was back when it started. If anything, it's only gotten worse.

Besides my physical health, certain events that transpired in May 2021 impacted my motivation for this AU dramatically and made it hard to continue telling the story I wanted. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. This was a problem long before my hand became an issue, but I tried to pretend it hadn't been. It took me a long time to begin healing from the pain those events caused me.

Between rough personal dramas and my poor physical (and sometimes mental) health, it became a chore to keep up with my social media and particularly this blog. I went quiet largely out of guilt, and it became harder to return the longer I was away with no positive news in sight.

There is hope. I finally have healthcare, and I'll be working in the coming weeks to find a specialist who can help me.

I miss this story and its characters terribly, as well as I miss all of you. I know this hiatus has been a huge blow to the momentum of this story and its fans and for that I apologize.

I promised myself that I would finish this story, no matter how long it took, and I intend to keep that promise regardless of where it takes me. I may need to change my approach, style, or direction, but I intend Inverted to have an ending someday.

I have other projects that I'm working on besides Inverted in the meantime, ones that I can do without needing to use my hand. I've needed something creative to keep me sane in these months, and I finally have something fun to work on that gives me the same fulfillment that drawing does. If you're interested in seeing different things from me, I'll be trying to be more active on my personal blog (@jirachibaby) and my twitters (also @ jirachibaby and @ tiredfoxart) when I'm finally able to share the projects I've been working on quietly.

Sorry this isn't the update many of you wanted to see. It isn't one I wanted to give. In the coming weeks and months, I'll hopefully have better news to share. Until then, it will likely be quiet on this blog again unless anyone has questions or comments they'd like to send my way.

I love you all <3

[latte-to-go]

the art of loving you [alcina dimitrescu]

summary ━━━ sometimes, it was difficult for you to tell if what you and lady dimitrescu, or alcina as she has allowed you to call her, had was love. it remained a lingering thought in your mind as her daughters continued to call you their mother’s ‘human play-thing’ and most days, you let it not get to you. but, it was difficult to ignore that fateful night and the lady of the house had easily noticed something was upsetting her little pet.

pairing ━━━ alcina dimitrescu x reader.

words ━━━ 1612

fandom ━━━ resident evil.

warnings ━━━ pure fluff, honestly. but, it has some hints of nsfw vibes but it doesn't go into them.

author's note ━━━ lady dimitrescu owns my heart and I have spent so much time reading fanfics about her that I just needed to write one of my own. who knew a tall sexy vampire lady would be what broke my hiatus and brought me back to tumblr? but, I am here to stay and I am so excited to write more reader inserts! and to continue to fill requests! for now, my requests are open! but, I will probably write a lot more for alcina as well! so, I haven't finished resident evil village yet because of how busy I am with work and that might make the characters a little out of character! but I couldn't wait to write about alcina! hopefully, I will have the game finished soon! some things have been spoiled for me already, but a lot of the game is still unknown because I am still in the very beginning of the game where ethan just gets to the village. but, I still hope you all enjoy this one-shot! it's just fluff between the reader and our lady!

DARK CLOUDS LOOMED AGAINST THE HORIZON, matching the catastrophic thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind as you numbly flipped the pages to the book you had tried so hard to distract yourself with. But, your mind had not retained any of the words written on the yellowed pages as your mind stayed on the woman that held every inch of your heart. With a sigh, you turned your gaze out the window instead. The window pane was cold to the touch, courtesy of the snow that remained a constant of the land.

It had only been two years since you had arrived at Castle Dimitrescu ━━ a mistake, truly. At least, at first, it had been as you stumbled across the maidens that the grandiose home belonged to. It should have been the last night of your life, but the lady of the house had taken a keen interest in you. You had not understood it at first, but you had grown attached to Alcina Dimitrescu and her… mysterious ways. Perhaps, you would even go as far as to call it love at first sight. And, you had thought she had felt the same way with her sweet words and burning touches. But, then doubt had become to creep into the dark crevices of your relationship with the woman.

It was often her daughters teased you, complaining about how they couldn’t stand to hear the beat of your heart. But, their mother had explicitly forbidden them from touching you. Though, you did not feel unsafe around them and had grown to trust and like each of them. But, their words tended to hurt whenever they referred to you as their mother’s play-thing. It was as if there was a timer on your life and it wouldn’t be long till Alcina grew bored of your presence and decided it was your time to join the dead.

“The day has come and gone and you have yet to leave our bedroom,” the regal voice belonging to Alcina echoed throughout the room, startling you at your spot in the window sill. She stood tall with her golden eyes watching your every move, making you hold your breath as you waited for her to speak. With long strides, she quickly reached the window as she looked down at you with an unreadable expression. Regardless of your height, you always dwarfed in comparison to her as she stood taller than most she came across. But, she looked even taller whilst you sat. She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. When she pulled back, her gaze met yours. “Has something happened?”

“No,” the word quickly left your lips as your felt your cheeks burn at the sudden closeness. Her scent of her old vintage lavender perfume with hints of blood filled your nose ━━ the old mixture had become a comfort for you. With a clear of your throat, you continued to speak. “Everything is fine.”

A hum left her red lips, seemingly vibrating every sense of your being. With two fingers, she trailed against your jaw as she continued to stare at your parted lips. “You should know better than to lie to me, my darling.”

“I do not wish to bother you with my human problems,” you muttered bitterly, pushing her fingers off your skin. For a moment, her eyes flashed with an unknown emotion but she did not utter a word as she took a step back to create space between the two of you.

“So, something has happened,” Alcina commented, standing to her feet as she towered over you again. It made you feel small in every sense as a wave of tears made their presence known. Hiding them from her was futile as she continued to watch, making you sniffle as you tried to wipe them away. “Tell me, who has hurt you?”

“No one.” It wasn’t like you to throw her daughters underneath the bus because of some harsh words. After all, you needed to be stronger than that.

Her hand reached forward, wiping away the stray tear with her thumb before she caressed your cheek. It took everything in you to not lean into her touch, refusing to place a kiss against her tender skin. Despite your lack of reaction, Alcina moved closer as she took a seat on the window sill. It was difficult due to her size, but she made it work as she continued to run her thumb against your cheek. “Then, why the tears?”

She waited for you to speak, listening to the shaky breaths that left your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I’ve been having doubts,” you confessed, biting the inside of your cheek as you met the woman’s eyes. “About… us.”

“What do you doubt about us?” She asked softly. And, for the first time, you could hear worry in her tone as she slowed her movements. Her sharp gaze had softened, lingering on your saddened expression.

With a deep breath, you took her hand off your cheek as you held it close. Her hands were larger than an average person’s, but you still fit perfectly in them. “I fear that you do not love me the way that I love you,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on your interlocked hands. “I feel as if I am something that you use to pass the time. Someone to warm your bed at night for the time being before you get bored and move to the next.”

“People say I’m heartless,” she started off slowly, taking your words deep into her heart as her gaze flickering to your hands as well. “They call me a monster ━━ a frightening legend that mothers tell their misbehaving children. And, for a long time, I believed in those legends that painted me as a cruel vicious beast. That is, until I met you, my darling.”

Her words made you look up, daring to meet her eyes as she stared at you unblinking. Her beauty had always taken your breath away, making her perfect to you at anything that matters. Still, you remained quiet.

“Perhaps, I did not love you at first,” Alcina confessed, ever so slightly tightening her grip on your hand as she let out a heavy sigh. “But, you came into my life like a storm and I had learned how to dance in the rain. Regardless of what you think, my love for you is true. My darling, you make me feel whole ━━ the missing piece I had unknowingly been searching for.”

“Do you really mean that?” you asked softly, barely finding your voice as you faced the woman. Her words were like honey, dripping sweetness onto your tongue as you tried your hardest to believe her.

Her free hand caressed your cheek, moving closer to you before she left a chaste kiss against your forehead. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No, but…”

“Cease your doubts, my love,” Alcina said, staying inches away from your lips as her breath fanned against your cheeks. She whispered your name, letting out a deep sigh as she took in your scent. “What can I do to convince you that my love for you is true? To convince you that I want to spend the rest of our days together? To convince you that my heart yearns for you and only you?”

"Alcina…” you whispered softly, closing your eyes as her lips hovered over the skin of your neck. She didn’t move, waiting for some indication from you. “I love you more than anything in this world and… I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. If you would have me, that is.”

The soft words caused Alcina to open her eyes as she faced you, showing no emotion as usual. It made it hard for you to predict her next move as you waited for her to say anything. But, then a soft smile presented itself to you as she leaned in close. “Of course I would have you, my darling,” she whispered, meeting your eyes. “I would do anything for you.”

Her words brought a smile to your lips, pushing you forward as you engulfed her lips with your own. She was quick to pull you into her lap as she held you close, kissing back with the same intensity that you gave her. It made you feel warm with her love as any doubts you had begun to vanish as she held you. There was no doubt that Alcina Dimitrescu was hopelessly in love with you as you were with her. Yet, the sweet moment had ended too soon.

There was a knock at the door, causing a deep growl to leave Alcina’s lips as she pulled away from yours. It left you breathless as the two of you looked to the door to see Cassandra. She wore a sadistic grin, moving deeper into the room as she regarded the two of you. “Forgive me for interrupting,” she cooed, stealing a glance at your flushed expression with playful vice. “But, he’s back.”

A frown marred your features, causing you to glance back at Alcina and see the irritation blooming. “Who is back?”

With a sigh, Alcina looked to you as she forced a smile to her lips. She moved forward, leaving a chaste kiss against your lips that had become stained the same color as hers. “Only a nuisance that you needn’t worry about,” she whispered softly, moving to stand to her feet. “I shall be back soon, my love.”

At her words, you smiled. “I will be here waiting for your return.”

[statementlou]

OH I really need your opinion about Louis being so emotionally intelligent, I think it's barely even talked about it here

ARE people not talking about it? What a funny thought! As a post-hiatus fan, I'm accustomed to thinking of myself as something of a newcomer, even though it's been years now, so it's weird to realize I've been here long enough to see patterns and trends come and go and come again. It's even weirder the way trends in fandom can be completely forgotten and erased when the boys, in contrast, eternally exist in all times at once, everything they've ever said considered to be equally valid to their current lives whether they said it 12 years ago as teens or just yesterday as whole ass adult men! Anyway my point is, there was certainly a time when Louis' emotional intelligence was discussed a lot, AS IT SHOULD BE. For sure so much when Walls came out it was... those LYRICS!! Yes, without that gift he's still gorgeous and smart and embodies a unique and bewitching gender presentation and has a beautiful and captivating singing voice… I guess there are a lot of other reasons people might like him. But to me the thought of that not being the top of anyone's "why Louis" list is bananas, it feels so absolutely central and necessary to understanding what makes him special!

It's certainly a lot of what makes his songs resonate with people- he's a skillful lyricist, he could craft clever little twists of phrase and metaphors regardless, but it's his emotional intelligence that sets him apart imo. He describes it as honesty, and yes- the willingness to be vulnerable and reveal your feelings is special, but what I don't know if he even really realizes is that for so many people it's not just an unwillingness to open up honestly like he does, it's that they are genuinely unable to identify and understand and name what's happening inside them like that. I think it comes so naturally to him that maybe it can be hard for him to recognize that that experience isn't universal.

I really appreciate that you used the words emotional intelligence specifically, I love that phrase; I think framing it as a form of intelligence is correct and important. It's a skill set that is dismissed as "feminine" and so less important or easier to access than intellectual intelligence, but it's none of those things. And it's a minority of people who, like Louis, are both intellectually and emotionally very very sharp. I'd say it's a reason he was been able to stay such a good person in the face of things that can easily ruin people (being rich and famous from a young age, trauma and loss), and it's certainly what enables him to be so good at his job. It elevates his songwriting above the ordinary, but also it gives him the tools to do the dance of giving the public something to connect with and making it feel like he's completely open and present without actually giving away too much, which would be absolutely impossible without emotional intelligence- if you don't know your own boundaries or can't intuit on the fly what people respond to, it simply falls flat and seems forced. We've been seeing him exercise those skills close up and in person over the last few days in the signings, making everyone feel special and held and like they got a personal special moment without actually telling anyone anything much or going overtime or getting sucked in to any weird interactions! Again, something that would be nearly impossible without those kind of people skills.

It's actually really funny the way the discourse recently (speaking of changing tides in fandom) has been focused on the idea of Louis presenting himself as masculine (is there a relationship between that and the lack of chat about his EI? hm), when I feel like in the past he was the most feminized by fandom, and not because of his mannerisms or look, but because of his willingness to embrace his emotional intelligence- to cry/ talk about crying openly, to share readily about his feelings and be vulnerable, all these things coded as feminine. He himself has said that he doesn't think he's anything special in this regard (or especially feminine, I think is part of the subtext to that) because Northern Brit men are just like that. I'm from the US so I'm not the one to really respond to that, but it seems to me that does contain some truth- I have seen a willingness to cry openly, to talk about vulnerabilities, etc, in other men with public personas from up there- but I think that again, what we're saying is that's he's showing more than just that, that we're talking about his emotional intelligence quotient being unusually high, which is not a regional characteristic, but a personal one.

[sirowsky]

The Lost Island

Chapter 19 - Once Again

Summary: Everything seems upside down now. Life keeps trying to go on, but Marcus is stuck. And you're not exactly helping.

Author’s Note: Popping back in from my hiatus to post this severely delayed update. It's been almost two months since the last chapter and I apologize. If you're still with me - you're awesome and I love you!

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Cursing, angst, grief, longing, comfort. Word Count: 6983 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

   Marcus sat in the scanner, trying to follow the threads of information that he already had, but he was so tired now that his own thoughts were getting criss-crossed.      Him, you, the tree. A triangle of powers that had somehow come together and landed him here, three years in the past, with no way of getting back.

   You’d left shortly after delivering him to R&D, trusting that no one would let a cuffed man wander about unsupervised until you got back, since you had too much on your plate to baby-sit him, and it was already 4pm.    He was quite relieved about that. It was easier when you weren’t there. Less painful.

   “Interesting.” Ricky mused to himself, while he watched something on his monitor.

   “Why? What are you seeing?” Marcus asked.

   “Well, there are clear markers of time-travel in your cells, the gaps I talked about before, which corroborate your story. Especially since I’m getting almost exactly the same data from you that we got from the alien tree.    Are you sure you can’t remember anything else about how this happened?”

   He hadn’t told Ricky any details about his powers or your sacrifice or the island or any of it. Only that he was displaced and that it had happened largely out of his control.    But perhaps it was time to have a little more faith in his old friend. He’d known Ricky since he was a teenager, after all.

   “Actually, I remember everything about it, I just can’t make any sense of it.” he tried, and the man abandoned the screens to come into the chamber and talk to him, face to face.

   “Hey, I’m the scientist, remember? I’m the one that makes sense of stuff. So, just tell me however much you can, and don’t worry about it being cohesive, I just need the pieces of the puzzle, I’ll fit them together myself.”

   Two hours later, Marcus had told him absolutely everything. The plane crash, the island, the Ozsha, the tribe, the portal, Eqlo’e, the spores and the confusing mess of time-jumps that had eventually led to your sacrifice and later his arrival here.    Ricky listened patiently, taking notes and asking the occasional question, and then he just sat there. Staring at his own pen and notepad, going over things in his own head, twisting and testing the pieces until he was satisfied that he grasped the overall chain of events.

   “It seems to me,” he finally started, after Marcus had let him ponder undisturbed for almost twenty minutes, “that this is indeed a permanent shift. A total reset of your own timeline. I don’t think you could go back anymore because the three years that you lived, can no longer come to pass.”

   Meaning this was it. He’d have to live here now, with this version of you that didn’t know him and for all he knew, would never want to.    And what about Missy? He hadn’t met her yet, but would she notice that he was different? Every version of her that he’d thus met had seemed unbothered by the idea that he wasn’t exactly the same, so there was reason to hope that this one would react similarly.    After all, it wasn’t like she had seemed any different to him, regardless of timeline.

   “I’m quite fascinated by these new powers of yours. Would you mind demonstrating for me?” Ricky continued, bringing him out of his own head and back to the room.

   “Sure.”

   He started with just the threads, showing off their versatile use as either individual strings, or a network of them, either to create one or several shields, or to connect to many things at once.    Then he took it further, displaying the dark powers and how they evolved from one thing to the next, until lightning bolts were shooting through the room, which prompted Ricky to ask him to stop and then return to his screens.

   “My god, Marcus… I have never seen power-readings this high. No wonder you could manipulate Earth’s electromagnetism before, you’ve had an effect on it all your life, without even knowing it.”

   “It’s really that strong?” Marcus questioned, not really wanting to believe it.

   “Oh, easily. Looking at these readings I have no trouble at all believing that you can tear a rift through spacetime. Especially if you already have access to a conduit.”

   “But the portal jumps as it pleases, it already has the ability, I just tapped into it, I didn’t create the rift myself.”

   “Sure. But how did you draw it to you? How did you reach it from another point in space and time?” Ricky asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

   “…Shit.” Marcus started, and then a question plopped into his head. “Does that mean that I was the one that sent myself here? No, that doesn’t make any sense, I wasn’t even trying to open a portal…”

   “No, no, I don’t think you did this. You said that the tree called to you that night, almost compelled you to come to it? Well, I believe that that was indeed your Ace’s soul, and I don’t think she would’ve done that unless she knew that she could help you.”

   “But how has this helped me, Rick?”

   His old friend looked at him with a crooked little smile, and simply said:

   “She’s alive here. You get to see her again, talk to her, start over. Even if it never becomes the same as what you had before, it’ll still be her. The same person you fell in love with.    I know a lot of people who would give anything to get to have that.”

   You walked in only moments later, looking a little worse for wear, your hair tousled and your clothes dirty, as if you’d been wrestling someone, and Marcus was instantly worried, which was of course, only annoying to you.

   “What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, pretty much reflexively.

   “The answers to both those questions are entirely not your concern.” you bit back, turning to Ricky next. “What have you found?”

   “Corroboration of his story. He is Marcus Moreno, and in all likelihood exactly from when and where he says he is. His powers are off the charts and there are no inconsistencies that I can find between what he’s told me and what my data is telling me.”

   “Okay, but then… what happened to this Moreno? Our Moreno, from this time?” you pressed, trying to wrap your head around it.

   “Well, they’re the same person, and the same matter can’t occupy the same space, so this is that Moreno. They’ve merged, for lack of a better term. Which is why he can still remember the other timeline even though it’s been erased.” Ricky explained.

   “And the tree?” you continued, seeming to get increasingly frustrated with this whole situation.

   “I believe that the tree is responsible for sending him here, by utilising the power it gained from the version of you which was absorbed into it. That Ace must’ve been so devastated to feel his grief, that she manipulated him into letting his powers rage unfiltered, creating a rift in spacetime. And using whatever strength she had left, to direct that rift here, and push him through. Actually changing time, rather than just visiting another timeline.    I think she had to take herself along with him, as he needed to be tethered to the massive energy-reserve of the tree in order to keep the rift open and bring him safely through.    And I think that she burned the last remnants of her soul out of existence by doing this, which is why you don’t remember anything about her.”

   “Because otherwise our souls would’ve merged too…” you completed the thought, and Ricky nodded.

   You took a few deep breaths, settling your hands on your own hips while you paced on the spot for a few beats.

   “Right. So, if he’s just the same old Marcus anyway, then there’s no need for any security measures. Just an ordinary debrief, more or less.” you finally decided, but you still looked at Ricky for confirmation.

   “Yeah. Pretty much.” he answered, and you nodded before coming into the chamber to uncuff Marcus. They were the sort of cuffs that kept the hands a full 10 inches away from one another, and restricted movement of the wrists, so you could reach the thumb-pad that released both sides, positioned at the centre, without coming into contact with him.

   “Great, that means you’re no longer my problem. Report to Ms. Granada for your debrief first thing in the morning.” you said, and then left.

----------------------------------

   He felt like he was a record, with the needle stuck on the same point of his life, as he once again explained everything, was met by the same questions that you and Ricky had asked, which he answered the same way, only to then be surprised by Ms. Granada’s final statement.

   “Well, I think it’ll be best if we don’t advertise any of this. It’ll just cause unnecessary concern from the public, since they will inevitably learn about it, not to mention your teammates.    They’re hard enough to corral as it is, and you’re one of the few people they all listen to, so if they should decide that something’s changed or that they can’t trust you anymore… honestly, that’s just a scenario I really don’t wanna think about.”

   “You don’t think they deserve to know?” he countered, but she shook her head.

   “It’s not about what they deserve or not, it’s about whether it would be of any benefit for them to know. And I can’t see that it would help either them or you in any way.”

   “No, I guess it wouldn’t. It just seems like I’d be deceiving them.” he confessed.

   “You’re not. You’re the same person, they still know you, you just know a few things that they don’t.    Obviously, I’m not gonna tell you not to tell your family, that’s up to you. And Ricky will be available to help you if there’s anything you need.”

   And that was that. Back to work as usual.    On his way out to the car, he wondered if it would ever stop feeling so… odd. It was only his first day here, but so much had happened. His head was pounding when he stepped in through his front door and was met by the smell of his mother’s cooking and his daughter’s usual “Hey, dad”.    He stepped out of his shoes and slowly walked into the kitchen, watching his family with a melancholy sort of pain in his heart. Because even though nothing had really changed, everything had, and it could never be the same again.

   To his own surprise, he chose not to tell them. For the same reason that Granada had given – it wouldn’t help or make any difference. And they didn’t seem to notice any change in him, which made it easier to just fall back into his life as if those three years had just been a dream.

   It was so much harder at work, though. And that was all because of you.    Sure, it was true that he was grateful to get to have you around him again, alive and feisty and unyielding, but it also hurt so badly to know that he wasn’t invited. That he couldn’t ask you for a hug or even to run his fingers over your cheek.    He tried to think that it was still better than lying on the floor, wishing that he’d never existed, but it didn’t really help.    A couple of weeks later, though, he got a welcome distraction, when Tech came to give him an update on something that Marcus had tasked him to do.

   “Hey, man. Got a minute?” Tech asked, poking his head through the open door and waiting for a nod before he stepped in, taking a seat opposite Marcus’ desk.

   “I’m all ears, T.” he said, clasping his hands together and leaning back in his chair.

   “Okay, I’ll admit that when you asked me to look for a hidden island in the middle of the South Pacific, I was slightly concerned that you’d lost a few marbles. So, imagine my surprise when I found the damned thing, right smack in the middle of the area you’d suggested I should focus on.”

   Marcus suddenly sat up straight.

   “You found it? How?” he demanded.

   “Oh, it wasn’t easy. None of the usual filters or light-spectrums revealed anything, so I tried something different. Using one of our satellites, I bounced a laser against the water-surface of millions of different points all over the search area, and then compared depths between them.” he explained, while opening his laptop to show Marcus the rendered image that all those points created together. “And voila! Your island appears. Or, an anomaly, at least.”

   Looking at the image sent shivers down his spine, even though it was just a dome, because he knew what was inside of it. There was no doubt that this was the correct place, and there was no reason for anything else out there to be cloaked or shielded.

   “How’d you know it was there at all, Mo?”

   He’d prepared for these types of questions, and had a few answers lined up.

   “I wasn’t sure that it was real myself, that’s why I asked you to look for it in your downtime. It’s just something I thought I saw once, and wanted to confirm.”

   “Well, it looks like it’s being cloaked. So, what’s next? Take the team, check it out?” Tech asked, but that wasn’t an option.

   “No, I need to bring this to Granada first. Let her know we found something, then we’ll see. I’ll let you know what she says.” he promised, and Tech closed his computer and got up.

   “Alright, you’re the boss. I sent you the file, if you wanna show her.”

   “Thank you, T. This is great work.” Marcus called after him as he left, feeling a sting of regret as he immediately set to work, with no intention of including anyone from the team at all.

   Granada had already given him clearance to work on and investigate all things concerning the island at his own discretion, the only condition being that he was indeed extremely discreet about it.    She trusted him to bring anything potentially dangerous or damaging to her attention as soon as he found it, and he had every intention of following those orders. If the island was still alive, then it was still a serious threat to the entire planet, and that wasn’t something he felt particularly eager to take on alone.

   Getting to the helipad, he made a beeline for a chopper, but found it locked, which they never were while there were pilots in the building. He didn’t even know where they kept the keys to them.    But then, there was a distinctive rattle just a few feet to his side and he turned towards it.

   “Looking for these?” you asked, holding the keys up in front of your face and dangling them back and forth. “Do you even know how to fly that thing?”

   Shit. Well, at least he didn’t need to lie to you.

   “I know enough to get me there. Please, give them to me. I have to go, it’s important, I have a lead on the hidden island.”

   “The one you were stranded on?” you pressed, and he said yes. That made your face go blank for a second, and then it turned to steel. “I’m coming with you.”

   “Absolutely not!” he all but screamed at you, making you flinch, which then made you angry.

   “It wasn’t a question. And don’t you dare yell at me again.” you were impressively composed, despite your anger, so he tried to calm himself.

   “I’m sorry. But this really doesn’t concern you.”

   “The hell it doesn’t!” you were the one almost screaming now, but you quickly reeled yourself in. Something he’d never seen you do back before the island. Not where he was concerned, at least. “Look, according to you, I’m part of how we stop this place from destroying the planet, right? So, how do you know that I don’t need to be there?”

   “Because none of that happens yet. Not for two whole years.” he tried, but you weren’t giving up.

   “Except that timeline is gone, so we don’t know anything. For fuck’s sake, Marcus, you’re really gonna go to a place you know is a death-trap, without any back-up?”

   “I don’t need back-up!” he shot back, and you scoffed humourlessly.

   “Right, because Marcus Moreno is the most powerful human being in the world, the rest of us are just useless.”

   That stung somewhere, because he’d always considered you his equal, even back when you’d been enemies. And after the island, and all the times you’d bested him, even when he’d hurt and frightened you, he’d learned that he could never measure up to you.    But this wasn’t about whether he wanted or needed back-up, it was about his fear that history was about to repeat itself.    Him, you, an aircraft and a hidden island. It was too familiar, turning his blood to ice and his mind to dark places.

   “You’re not coming. I can pry the lock open without the keys. Go back to work.” he finally spat between clenched teeth, turning back to the machine and heading for the pilot’s door.

   “Leave me here, and I’ll go straight down to the team to let them know exactly what you’re doing.” you threatened, and he stopped moving with a heavy sigh. “They’ll all come after you. You know that. They’re way too curious and meddlesome to leave a dangerous secret island alone.”

   You were nothing if not cunning.

   “Fuck! …Alright, come on.” he finally caved, letting you unlock the helicopter and then you both climbed up, strapped in and you prepared to take off.

   “Don’t you dare crash.” he added, just before you eased the machine off the roof.

   “Don’t piss me off and we should be fine.” you countered, and he kinda had to give you that, since he’d been the one that had gotten angry and caused the plane crash.

<><><><><> 

   He didn’t say much more for the duration of the flight, which was several hours long, but that was fine by you. You couldn’t fathom how any version of you had fallen for this arrogant ass.    Okay, maybe he wasn’t arrogant. But something about him just annoyed you, and it took most of the flight before you’d figured out what it was. The knowledge that you were apparently capable of developing deep feelings for him, made you reflexively need to keep him at a distance, because you were not a person that let people come that close to you.    And you weren’t gonna let this guy change that. You didn’t even know him.

   “Slow down, we’re close.” he announced eventually, and you obliged.

   “How do you know? I can’t see anything.” you said.

   “Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can feel its energy. It’s generating a cloaking bubble around the whole thing, even underwater.”

   “Then how are we supposed to land?”

   He answered you by opening the door on his side, and letting three threads flow from his fingers, down into the open air underneath you, and you stopped the helicopter, hovering while you waited to see what he’d do.    The threads did indeed reach a barrier some hundred yards below you, something only visible as long as he disturbed its surface. But after just a moment, he sent something from his hand, down one of the threads. A deep purple sparkling something, and when it reached the barrier, it kind of exploded, branching out into hundreds of threads that had spread unseen from the first three.    They encircled the entire bubble, and as the continuous explosion travelled along all those lines, they cracked the barrier until it finally disappeared completely, revealing a whole world hidden underneath.

   “Now you can land. But not on the beach, use the ledge over there on the mountainside.” he pointed to a spot at the base of the volcanic rise, and you set down without any trouble.

   “It’s like something out of a dream…” you said, mostly to yourself, but loud enough that he heard it.

   “More like a nightmare.” his voice was grim, full of bad memories, and you wondered just how much had happened to him here.

   But you weren’t talking about the scenery.

   “I meant that I feel like I’ve been here before. Like déjà vu.” you explained, and he looked at you with a strange expression, and then turned away just as something that looked a lot like fear, crept into his eyes.

   “For your sake, I hope that’s all it is.” he whispered as he began to walk down from the hillside, and you refrained from asking what he meant by that, because you honestly didn’t wanna know.

   “You’ll warn me about anything deadly among these plants, right?” you asked as the two of you made your way through the thicker vegetation, following a narrow-trampled path towards the center of the island.

   “The only one you really need to worry about is the vampire tree, and we’re not gonna go near that.”

   “The what?!” you exclaimed, and he chuckled, just a little.

   “Remember I told you that this place is one giant organism? Well, the vampire tree paralyzes you and drinks your blood over the course of several days, until you die, to feed the island. Its own ‘blood’ gets too acidic without the occasional dilution, and for whatever reason, human blood does the trick.” he explained, and you took a deep breath.

   “Let’s just find this tribe and get them the hell outta here, so we can bomb this fucking place.”

   “We can’t bomb it. That wouldn’t ensure that all the spores died. But the matriarch should offer a solution. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

   “Fine. But the plan is still to evacuate the tribe, right?” you asked, trying to keep your mind off fucking man-eating trees…

   “If they want to, yeah. How many can the chopper take?”

   “Uh, with the amount of fuel we have left, I’d say thirty, including you and me. You said there’s about fifty of them?” you calculated.

   “Thereabouts. So that’s two trips.”

   “Or we call in another chopper.” you suggested, but he shook his head.

   “They won’t get through the barrier. It closed over us about a minute after we landed. I can break it again, obviously, but it also cuts off all communication to the outside world, and I can’t keep it down permanently.    It’ll be easier for me to only have to keep track of one transport.”

   “Right. Okay.” you agreed, and then realized that you’d suddenly stopped being angry or annoyed with him. When had that happened?

   You both grew quiet then, as he led you deeper and deeper into the heart of the island. You were behind him on the trail, his broad shoulders keeping you effectively blind to whatever was in front of him, so when he eventually stopped, you had to step around to his side to see why.    A beautiful little village spread out before you, filled with happy people going about their day. Children playing tag and tic-tac-toe or clapping games, while their mothers and some fathers cooked and sang together, others were building something, a few elderly people were working with dried leaves and herbs, or making clothes out of vegetation.    Just a normal, functioning community, out here in the middle of nowhere.

   Then someone spotted you both, and called out a warning, but Marcus just put his hands up and calmly walked into the village, so you followed suit.    An older man with a weathered look about him came towards the two of you, and something about him calmed you.    Glancing to your side, you could see Marcus swallow hard against strong emotions, and even though you knew nothing about this tribe, you knew that this man had mattered a lot to the Heroic beside you.    The older man stopped three feet away and inclined his head to you both.

   “Welcome, travellers. How have you come to be here, in this lost place?” he asked, and his voice seemed to dig into your brain, as though there was something in there he was trying to pull out.

   “Chief…” Marcus whispered, and the man locked eyes with him, studying him closely for a good thirty seconds.

   “We’ve met before… haven’t we, young man?”

   “In a different time, yes.” Marcus replied, failing to keep a slight tremble out of his voice.

   “Yes. I named you…” the old man started, then paused for a moment, before adding, “Kahele. Your name is Kahele.”

   Moreno nodded, unable to keep the tears back anymore, and the man hugged him tightly, as though they were suddenly old friends reunited, even though they just met.    Then the man let go of him and turned to you.

   “And you, miss. I gave you a very special name. Do you know what it is?” he asked, stepping closer, but keeping his eyes on yours.

   And there was that feeling again, like his voice was somehow inside your head, rather than in front of you.

   “Mana…” you said, having no idea how you knew that, but you just did.

   “Indeed. And what does that mean?” he prodded, and you were now getting a headache.

   “Spiritual power.”

   “Good, you remember.” he smiled at you, and you felt your frustration build.

   “No, that’s… I’ve never met you before, how could I remember anyth-…” you cut yourself off as the pain in your head turned sharp.

   “But you have, dear girl. Every version of you has met me, because one version of you did. You’re all one person, one spirit, and yours is remarkably strong,” he said, putting his hands on either side of your head and then leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Stop fighting her, and the pain will end. Don’t be afraid. She is you, Mana.”

   His voice finally reached that thing in your brain that it was digging for, and you felt something stir.    A chill went through you, from your toes to your scalp, and then pain followed, first in your feet and legs, and then your abdomen, chest and arms.    Confused, you pulled your sleeves up, looking for the damage that must’ve caused it, but there was nothing there, and after a few seconds, it faded again. Something lingered in your shoulder, though. A deeper, burning pain that wouldn’t quite settle. Old bruises long since healed, but still remembered.    And then you knew.

   “Akela. That’s your name.” you whispered, scarcely believing your own words. “You saved me.”

   “We saved each other; I believe.” he said, letting go of your head to pull you into a hug too.

   It was odd, because you didn’t actively remember anything, you just kinda knew things. Like you could feel her life rather than see it, but once you came across something that had significance to her, you just knew what that was.    And my goodness, did the tribe matter to her. Suddenly you knew their names, songs they’d taught you, recipes you’d tried to master and… loss. You remembered grieving for these people.    But they didn’t remember you the same way. The Chief was the only one that did, perhaps because of his powers, which you knew to be similar to yours.

   “Chief, we need to talk. There are things we know that might change your circumstances.” Marcus said, and Akela gestured to the central firepit and meeting-place, and the entire tribe made their way there with you.

   You left it to Moreno to explain everything, and he didn’t spare any details this time, except maybe concerning you, you weren’t sure. But then they started deliberating in Hawaiian, so you both pulled back, stepping out of the crowd and finding some porch-steps to rest on.

   “Hey, Marcus, did she… I ever hurt my shoulder?” you asked, still struggling to accept that this could really have happened to you.

   “Uhm… one of the Ozsha threw a really nasty dagger at you. It took a long time to heal.” he said, and you felt like there was something he was avoiding. Something more that happened concerning that incident, perhaps.

   As it were, he apparently felt guilty enough about it to elaborate without your asking.

   “I could’ve prevented that. I could’ve helped you, but I was… they did something to my mind… I wasn’t… it was like I couldn’t see what I was doing. How wrong it was. They had me do terrible things for them, and I never understood.”

   “I’m sorry, that sounds terrifying. What made you realize it, in the end?”

   He sighed and shook his head, looking out over the tribe for a beat, looking for strength maybe, before he turned his head to meet your eyes.

   “I never did. You forced them out of my head.”

   That sent a lot of emotions through you. Hope, fear, determination and love were all associated with that memory, and something dug its way to the forefront of your thoughts.

   “You’re stronger than this.” The words just fell out, and he froze, still staring at you while something big and significant passed through him. Much bigger than just the meaning of those words.

   For a fraction of a second, he leaned towards you. But then he blinked, changed his mind and all but leapt to his feet, walked ten steps away and then started to pace back and forth.

   “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I don’t know how to not touch you! Not love y-… fuck.” he rambled, throwing his arms around in pure frustration, while his voice brimmed over with pain, breaking into sobs before he cut himself off, and just buried his head in his hands.

   He looked like he was breaking, and you waited for some memory to come to the surface, to help you understand what you’d felt for him, because surely, this man had to have meant more to you than the tribe.    But all you felt was what you’d thus far always felt around him. Except there was pity in there now too.    You wanted to comfort him, but only so that you wouldn’t have to see this anymore.    He made it easier for you, though, by leaving before you could make some half-ass attempt at caring.    And of course, it was only minutes later that Akela came strolling over, the town meeting over.

   “Where did he go?” he asked, and you shrugged.

   “That direction,” you pointed to the west, “that’s as much as I know.”

   “You should follow him.” he suggested, only it sounded more like an order.

   “I can’t give him what he wants. So, I think it’s better if I don’t.” you tried, but you felt guilty saying that, for some reason.

   “You still don’t remember him?” he pondered, and you shook your head, which made his eyebrows travel up. “You remember me, but not the man you love more than life itself? Hmm… I think, my dear, you’ve misunderstood yourself here.”

   “Yeah, how so?” you played along, although you weren’t really in the mood for a lesson in love, which this seemed to be building towards.

   Akela smiled and then sat down next to you, resting his elbows against his knees and looking out over the village, the picture of ease.

   “It’s not that you don’t remember, I promise that you do. The problem is that feelings of such magnitude and significance are extremely hard to grasp the scope of. And whenever our hearts or minds are too confused to know how to respond to something, they choose to push it away instead.    That’s precisely why so many people suffer with their own minds, because they don’t know how to process what they experience.”

   “But how am I supposed to process something that didn’t even happen to me?” you threw at him, a little harsher than necessary. “I don’t understand how that would work.”

   “That’s the thing – you don’t need to understand. Has anyone, from any era in time, from poets, to singers, to dreamers, ever understood love?” he suggested, and you had to agree, but that still didn’t seem to apply here.

   “No, but I didn’t fall in love with him… I don’t feel love for him.”

   The Chief turned his head then, to look into your eyes, and something very sad settled into the lines around his.

   “Then perhaps… your soul has been broken. Perhaps you’re no longer capable of love. That’s the only thing I can imagine that could keep such a beautiful thing away from you.”

   Once again, his words seemed to be probing the insides of your brain, looking for whatever answers you couldn’t find yourself, maybe. But then he looked away, and it stopped.

   “We’ve been trapped here for so long that we no longer remember what the outside world looks like. And I’m sure it’s moved on since we left it. But this place has always been a prison, and while we’ve learned to live with it, we won’t pass up the chance to be free again.    We’ll come with you. And it is our hope that we’ll get to return to our mother islands.” he declared, bringing your focus back to the here and now.

   “I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I expect you’ll need to stay quarantined for a week or two at first, just to make sure that you haven’t become immune to any pathogens that other people could get sick from. Or that you’re carrying any of the deadly pollen with you, inert or otherwise.    But once that’s done, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t get to go home.” you reassured him, and he nodded softly.

   “Give us a moment to decide who leaves on the first transport. We’ll let you know when we’re ready.” he finished, before getting up and joining his people again.

   You didn’t think that they’d need very long to make those decisions, so you went to look for Marcus, to let him know you were getting close to departure.    He hadn’t gone far, though. You found him sitting on an overgrown tree-stump that was covered in moss, just outside the village, and he looked like he’d calmed down at least.

   “Hey. They’re coming with us. They’re just organizing now, so we’ll be leaving in a bit.” you said, approaching him from the side to keep from startling him, but he didn’t react to your appearance beyond letting his head dip forwards slightly.

   “Moreno? You okay?” you tried, but at first he didn’t respond, so you stepped closer, intending to shake his shoulder a bit.

   But then he started talking, and you stopped.

   “It’s not fair to you. Either of us, I guess. I can’t turn my feelings off, and you can’t just switch them on,” he said, the emotional tremble still very present in every syllable he uttered. “You… she… was the love of my life, and you look, sound, act, move, react exactly like her. You say everything I expect you to say. You are her.”

   He paused, turning his head to look at you, and you wanted to run away, because you’d never seen pain like that in a human being before.

   “I see her. And as long as I do, I can’t be around you.    So, when we get back, I’m gonna go. I’m gonna take Missy and leave. Start over.”

   He sounded like he was dying just uttering those words, and it tore at you. You hated that your mere existence was causing such hurt, and that there was nothing you could do about it. But this still felt wrong.

   “No, Marcus, don’t do that. If this is that painful to you, I’ll go. The Heroics need you; I can find work anywhere, I’ll be fine.” you pleaded.

   He stood up, looking like he was trying to lift half the jungle with him, and slowly walked past you.

   “Missy’s the only one that needs me. They’ll be fine.”

   There was a tight and uncomfortable knot in your stomach for the duration of the time it took to make the two trips to L.A with the tribe. He was right there next to you for all of it, and on the last leg, the second return trip, you spent a good hour searching yourself, looking for any hint of all that love that Akela had been sure you had for this man.    But nothing made itself known.

   Once everyone had been quarantined, Ricky looked the two of you over thoroughly, and upon finding nothing alien either in or on you, he released you back into the world, and you saw Marcus head straight for Granada’s office.    It might just be to get her up to speed, and make sure she knew what story the two of you had cooked up to explain to the team why you’d gone out there when he’d promised Tech to keep them in the loop. Or it might be… the other thing.    Why did it feel so wrong? If he wanted to leave, if that was what he needed to do to feel better, then he should do that. So, why did the thought make you feel increasingly unwell?    You tried to shed the feeling, making your way back to your office to catch up on the in-house work you’d missed today, trying not to think about what Moreno was doing.    Was he packing already? Would he bother to clear out his office, or was he just gonna pack some clothes, put Missy in the car and go? Leave everything behind…

   An hour later you still hadn’t gotten anything done, so you took a brisk walk over to his office, just to calm yourself.    Which backfired spectacularly when you got there and found a cleaning crew packing everything up and clearing it out.    He really was leaving. Suddenly it was hard to breathe.    No, this was wrong. This was just so terribly wrong, you had to stop him.    Rush hour traffic would’ve moved way too slowly at this time in the afternoon, so you never even contemplated your car, running back up to the helipad instead.    The aircrafts were strictly forbidden from being used for personal business, but you were trying to keep a member of the Heroic family from running off, so screw the rules.    You did pick a much smaller craft this time, so it would be possible to land in a residential area.

   Thankfully, he lived in a villa that stood on its own at the end of the street, with a big lawn out back, past the pool.    Missy was the first to come out and investigate why a chopper was landing on their backyard, so you waved to her and got out, just as Marcus slowly walked out of the house behind her, and you were unreasonably relieved to see that he was still there.    He sent his daughter inside before you’d gotten to them, clearly expecting this to be unadvisable for her to hear, and then just stood there, staring at you with an expression somewhere between pain and despair.

   “Don’t go.” you pleaded, and he closed his eyes, dipped his head and drew his arms up to hold himself.

   “How dare you ask me that…” his head snapped back up, but there was still no anger in his eyes. “I can’t do this… You’re killing me, Pita.”

   Pita. That name mattered. Holy fuck, did it matter. The sound of it from his lips sent an overpowering mass of emotions through you, from the most spiteful anger to the sweetest tenderness, and you doubled over as your head was suddenly burning as badly as your chest.    A part of you knew this, all of it. Had lived through it and learned from it, and that part also knew what it meant. Akela’s words about the brain failing to grasp emotions that were too colossal, now made complete sense.    You felt like you might split down the middle as you clumsily made your way towards him, stumbling on a water-hose left lying on the patio, and tumbling forwards.    Strong hands caught you and pulled you back up, and just like the last time you’d touched, there was a jolt, but neither of you pulled away this time.    And in that contact, in the real and prolonged exposure to his skin, you found it.    You knew this touch, craved it, cherished it. You knew how those fingers felt on your body, how his lips tasted, how they moved with yours. You knew what his desire felt like, his passion, his needs, his devotion… all of it.

   All at once, you could breathe again.

   “I know…” was all you managed to say, even though there was so much more rumbling around in your head.

   Too much to be able to explain right then, so you just grabbed his neck and kissed him, and somehow everything fell into place.    You no longer felt like you were being torn in half, and instead as though you’d been broken all your life and had finally been made whole. And when he realized that it was really you, that you felt right to him too, that this wasn’t some misguided attempt to ease his pain, his hands turned greedy on your skin, needing more contact, more reassurance that you were his, and you didn’t even try and stop him.    If you ended up on a sunbed or the lawn or the hard stone of the patio, you had no idea. All you knew was that when he drove into you, it felt like you both came home.

—————

Link to Chapter 20

Thank you for reading, and I’d love to know what you thought :) Have a wonderful day/night!

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging. I would dearly appreciate it <3

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[mcwriting]

just say I Do

I have been super active lately which is vv weird for me but this has been in my drafts all summer and I thought now was a good time to post it since wedding season is coming to a close :)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2945

Warnings: alcohol mention; slight angst with happy ending

§

She was a walking red flag from the moment she refused to laugh at your jokes.

Sure that sounds like a stupid reason, but more little "quirks," as Tom liked to call them, made themselves present the more he talked about Alaina.

He had been one of your best friends for years, but now he refused to listen.

"She doesn't trust us to hang out anymore?" you had asked incredulously.

"No, no. She's just insecure with the idea of us being alone together. That's all," he tried to reassure you. "I want to prove that I'm trustworthy."

Insecure

Code for "I don't trust you at all but I'm gonna keep using you for my benefit."

She had no reason not to trust him. You'd been in the friendzone for years and neither of you would ever cross a boundary. He was the most trustworthy person you knew.

After a couple weeks of his blatant ignorance of each red flag, you decided saving him from this relationship could never happen. You'd just have to let him drown in it.

So, you kept your mouth shut and ears open every time you hung out as he dumped all of her problems onto you. She'd turned him into her personal therapist and now you'd become his.

Regardless of how much you'd tried to extend an olive branch to her, she denied it every time, continually trying to push you away from her and, subsequently, Tom.

After months of this, yours and Tom's friendship eventually phased itself out.

Years of memories left in the dust .

You were almost happy, though. No more emotional trauma dumps every time you hung out with Tom. No more unnecessary hostility from Alaina. No more hiding your long-standing feelings.

You'd actually tried to tell him how you felt months earlier, but that got squashed when the "big news" he needed to tell you was that he had met someone. That "someone" being Alaina, of course.

You'd finally decompressed from all of the Tom drama when life decided to ramp up again as Harrison popped the all-important question to your female best friend, Rebecca.

The day after his proposal, she'd asked you to be maid of honor and you were quickly thrown into helping plan a wedding.

So you did your job: dress shopping, party planning, and shower throwing.

One unfortunate happenstance was that Tom was Harrison's best man, meaning that you had to see him again, especially within the month before the ceremony.

However, as the month moved forward, you and Tom had reconnected, your friendship much more lighthearted than how you'd left it previously. While Tom still talked about Alaina on occasion, he was no longer dumping everything onto you.

She still showed up to certain things, like a wedding shower and some parties, but you were mostly able to avoid her hostility and focus on Rebecca and Harrison.

Finally, after months and months of planning, the rehearsal dinner came, and you were almost hoping they'd just sign the papers that night and call it a wedding.

You were in the bridal suite touching up your lipstick as Rebecca and Harrison talked with the minister when Alaina appeared behind you, arms crossed.

"What's your angle, y/l/n?"

You furrowed your brows but didn't turn around, continuing to carefully apply the liquid lip as you just looked at her reflection.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sister. I'm just here to watch my best friend get married tomorrow."

"Don't play dumb. I know you're trying to get between me and Tom," she huffed.

"I can guarantee that's not what's going on here. We're friends again. That's all."

"You've been trying to squeeze your way into our relationship ever since it started. Forcing Tom to hang out with you alone, always texting him..."

You screwed the lipstick shut and stood up, whipping around to interrupt her.

"I'm sorry, what? I never forced him to do anything. He and I actually started communicating less once you two got together. You know, I knew you were insecure but I didn't think it was this bad."

"Well you've still been trying to pry us apart, even after your little friendship hiatus."

"Honey, I'm the reason he even asked you to make it official. He was too scared of committing, but I told him to pull the trigger and make you his girlfriend. Now I get that you have family trauma and the whole thing with your parents but-"

When she cut you off you knew you'd made a mistake. She wasn't supposed to know what all Tom had told you.

"You know what about me?"

You took in a sharp breath, unsure how to answer. An awkward pause fell between you.

"Everything. I know almost every damn thing about you. You were using Tom as a therapist and he took it to me. And I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you but I was almost glad when you forced me out of his life for a little bit because it meant I could finally deal with my own problems for once."

She continued to stare at you, stunned.

I- everything?" she breathed. You nodded, somber. "Why would he do that?"

"Dude. We were best friends for years. Told each other everything. Always went to each other to talk through the deep stuff. He didn't really know how to handle the stuff you were telling him. I wouldn't blame him for wanting to tell someone."

"But you know all this... stuff about me!"

"And those things aren't what shaped my opinion of you! Sure, it gave me some insight into your personality, but you can't let that stuff define you. You aren't going to get any real help dumping it all on your boyfriend, either."

"What are you trying to say, y/n?"

"I'm saying that him telling me everything shouldn't be the real problem here. The problem is that the whole relationship is toxic. Break up or don't, but you both need help. Tom isn't your therapist and if that's all you want him for then he shouldn't be your boyfriend. You both deserve better."

Each of you sat in that statement for a moment. After all of the frustration and anger, you'd chosen to channel it into something constructive.

Alaina had a look of defeat. You'd expected anger from her after everything.

"Yeah. Maybe we do. I just can't believe I couldn't trust him with the most important things in my life. Maybe I shouldn't have been trying to keep you apart all this time. I really should've been getting you together."

"What? No, Alaina don't say that-"

"Do you know where Tom is?"

"Come on don't do this right now-"

"Y/n just tell me where he is."

"I- You were the last one with him as far as I know. You came in here after I did."

In silence, she nodded and exited, leaving you alone again with a pit in your stomach.

You quickly tried to straighten yourself out, taking one last look in the mirror before you walked out and faked a smile.

"Oh! There you are! We're gonna get started on the rehearsal now!" Rebecca said as she caught you in the hall. "Just head outside and if you see Tom, tell him to come, too."

You did see him as you headed that way. His lips were pressed into a tight grimace as Alaina quietly talked to him near the building's entrance.

His eyes caught yours briefly and you gestured your head towards the alter, tapping your wrist. He gave a small nod of recognition and Alaina turned to see you in the distance, giving you a sad grin.

Tom started to tell her that he needed to go rehearse when she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Bye, Tom. Keep in mind what I told you," she said, leaning up to press a kiss on his cheek before walking off to her car, leaving for good.

You could tell he trying not to seem sad as he followed not far behind you to join everyone else.

When Rebecca returned, she was excitedly telling everyone the plan for walking down the aisle, deciding to pair bridesmaids with groomsmen as there was an equal number.

The pit in your stomach grew when you realized that meant you and Tom would be paired together.

The pairs lined up, you and Tom having to be last. You knew it would take a while when the flower girls took forever to walk the aisle and the first male/female pair couldn't figure out their cue.

Your arm was looped in Tom's but you had never felt so apart from him. Both of you were stiff, trying not to move too much.

"Alaina dumped me," he finally whispered, leaning over to tell you, as your heels brought you close to his height.

Your head stayed forward as your gaze fell to the ground.

"I figured as much. I tried to talk her out of it but... you know."

"Yeah."

There was another heavy silence.

"I'm really sorry, Tom," you started, but he cut you off.

"Don't. We just need to focus on Becca and Haz," he bit back, stone-faced.

You wanted to say something more, but you were cut off by Rebecca telling you your cue and getting you to walk the aisle in sync.

You couldn't look at Tom the rest of the night and hardly touched your dinner as your thoughts ran wild of how to make things up to him.

You couldn't tell Rebecca what happened. This was her time to shine, and you figured if Tom were to tell Harrison anything, it would just be that they'd broken up.

A couple speeches were made about the happy couple and finally it was over, all of you nervously ready for the real ceremony tomorrow.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you made it out without talking to Tom again.

The next morning, things ramped up as the bridal party got ready while sipping mimosas. Everything felt frantic because you felt the need to supervise and take stress off the bride.

It didn't help that you were still stressing over Tom.

You went into the bathroom to catch your breath, trying to maintain a positive facade.

When you stepped out, you found Rebecca looking beautiful as ever in front of you, but you quickly recognized the look on her face.

"Lets go to the balcony real quick. I feel like we need to talk."

You followed her out, both of your robes flowing in a soft breeze as the sun shone down happily. She handed you another mimosa as she leaned over the railing.

"Harrison told me about Tom. Said it was a pretty big deal."

You groaned, trying not to facepalm over your freshly done makeup.

"Becca we shouldn't be talking about this right now. We need to focus on your wedding-" you started, reaching for the door handle.

"Y/n. I want to talk about this. And I hear you're supposed to listen to the bride on her wedding day," she chuckled. You rolled your eyes and smirked.

"Fine. Yeah, they broke up. And it's all my fault and Tom's probably pissed at me but whatever. It's fine."

"From what I hear he's not as mad as he probably should be. It's been a long time coming, you were just the catalyst. Just think how much longer it would've taken for them to pull their heads outta their asses without you."

"He's not mad?"

"Doesn't sound like it. I think you guys need to talk about it, though."

You sighed.

"We will, eventually. We both agreed yesterday that we just need to focus on you two right now."

"You know that's gonna be hard, right? I mean, you're both gonna be stuck together from pictures up until after the ceremony."

"Yeah, yeah. I promise I won't ruin your wedding. Can't speak for Tom, though," you joked, holding your glass up towards hers.

"I'll take your word for it," she replied, clinking her own glass against yours.

§

The bride and groom weren't ones for superstition, so you took wedding photos before the ceremony to maximize lighting and time with the guests later.

You didn't talk to Tom at all, but neither of you could keep from making quick eye contact between shots.

Finally the time had came for guests to begin arriving and the big moment to actually come.

After some last minute touch ups, the wedding party greeted guests as the countdown began. Once things were in place, you all went back into the building to line up, ready to start.

Again, you and Tom were linked together, waiting in bated breath.

"Alaina told me something yesterday before she left," Tom whispered.

You hummed in response.

"Yeah. Said I never really loved her."

"What makes her think that?" you asked, trying to pay attention to those ahead of you in line as music started playing outside.

"She told me I probably loved you," he replied casually.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him in shock. Again you wanted to reply but Tom tugged your arm and started stepping forward.

"Oh, looks like it's our time to shine."

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you walked down the aisle, seeing familiar faces as a blush rose to your cheeks before you both separated at the alter, leaving an empty spot between you and Harrison.

You pretty much forgot all of the nervousness when you watched your beautiful best friend come down the aisle with her dad. Harrison was tearing up and you were fighting back your own.

The ceremony began and throughout it, you and Tom continued to look past the couple and steal glances of each other.

When the vows finally came, you actually were crying, pulling a hidden tissue from your bouquet to dab your eyes as you watched with a watery grin. They had written their own vows.

You still couldn't help but watch Tom, though, as the two professed their love in front of everyone.

When they finished, the minister was given the rings and the most important part came.

"Now, Harrison, do you take Rebecca to be your wife? Will you love and cherish her for the rest of your days?"

The groom said I do, but you could only see Tom mouthing the same words to you.

When Rebecca was asked the same thing, you couldn't help but mouth the same words, too.

With that came a kiss and the declaration of marriage, with each couple again pairing off to run down the aisle.

You didn't have time to talk to Tom though, as you were whisked away with the bridal party to have a glass of celebratory wine before dinner as you waited to enter the reception.

That dinner again went on without a hitch, with both you and Tom making pre-written speeches about the couple before the first dance.

Once the DJ turned up the music, everyone was out on the dance floor having a good time when he slowed it down again for couples to dance to.

You were prepared to walk off when a hand caught your arm.

It was Tom.

"Dance with me," he beckoned, and you couldn't bring yourself to say no.

You slow danced in silence, trying to figure out what to say as he twirled you around.

"So..." you started.

"Don't feel bad about Alaina," he immediately replied.

"But I'm the reason you broke up."

"No, I am. You were right that neither of us were handling things correctly. I should have never told you her personal business behind her back. I'm sorry for doing that to you, too."

You gave a lopsided grin.

"It's okay. I get why you did. I'm probably the best person you could've gone to anyways. I'm guessing you also apologized to her?"

"Yeah. I did last night but then I called her this morning and we talked it out. We should've broken up a long time ago. I wish I had listened to you back then."

You raised your brows.

"So you actually remember all the stuff I pointed out?"

"Just because I ignored it doesn't mean I didn't hear it. I was just too stupid and puppy-blind to see how much you actually cared."

You hummed as you wrapped both hands around his neck, stepping a little closer. He rubbed your back as he went to speak again.

"She was right, too. You are the one I really love. I meant it when I said 'I do.'"

"So I didn't just imagine that?"

"Just as much as I imagined you replying," he smirked. You smiled and bit your lip.

"I never wanted you to find out this way. I wanted to tell you the day you told me about her."

"It's probably for the best."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" You were confused at what he meant.

"Because now everyone we know can see firsthand that you're the one I love," he answered.

You were about to ask what that meant when he tipped up your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as the song ended. When you pulled away people were moving around so that Rebecca could throw the bouquet.

"You know what?" she announced. "I think I just need to do this."

Everyone watched as she marched over and handed you the bouquet directly, causing cheers to ring out around you.

"Now you just gotta say I do!" she exclaimed.

You looked up at Tom and he smiled down at you.

"I did."

§

A/N: okay half of me hates this bc I can't imagine how obnoxious this would be if it happened in real life but also it's kinda 🥺

Lemme know how you feel! Wedding szn had me in my feels again this year so I couldn't resist. If you liked this I'd suggest checking out the objection because it's also got angsty wedding vibes oop

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[celestialrry]

call me baby

psa: this might have a part 2 if anyone wants it, ik its a shitty ending lol but I wouldn’t know what to write after this. also I have another angst piece in the works but its literally taking so long to write 😖

1.8k

summary: Being hopelessly in love with your friend isn’t ideal, especially when Harry doesn’t even seem to see you as more than a therapist. 

warnings: angst, pining, cursing

You looked over at your phone, now vibrating against your bedside table, lit up with his contact photo, a picture of him sticking his tongue out. “Hi.” You picked it up, wrapping your free arm around your torso, sitting up a bit straighter out of instinct even though he couldn't see you.

“Hey, love. Can I get some advice?” He asked through the phone, his voice a bit gravely and deep as always. You silently sighed, biting your lip in hesitation. Everytime you’d get a call from him, he would either rant about his current partner, get advice about them, or just want you to be there when he needed someone to talk to.

Of course you would always be there for him, regardless of time, space, and anyone he gave his heart to. He was Harry Styles for god's sake, your friend since forever, the man who treated everyone like they were the best thing in his life, most of the time at least. He lit up any room he was in and when you’d see him it would always be fulfilling, even if the two of you sat in silence in a room of just four walls.

“Of course, what’s up?” You asked after a brief moment of silence. It was currently 4 in the morning in your single room flat in London and you didn’t think Harry knew that, but you weren't going to tell him.

“It’s just, Ana’s has been so clingy lately and we’ve only been together officially for 3 weeks. It’s making me want to end things.” Harry admitted into the phone. You almost rolled your eyes at his words. Not once has he called you to ask about you in months, but that's just how things were. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

“If you aren’t happy with her, end it,” You spoke up after a while, unsure if you were giving him the advice because you were desperate to be with him or it was genuinely what he should do.   “There’s no point in being with her if you’re considering ending it over her being clingy.”

You heard him sigh into the phone before speaking up. “Yeah, we’ll see, thanks,” He said your name. You smiled a bit at that. It was crazy how he could make you feel so special by just the tone of his voice, absurd, really,

“ ‘Course. So-” Before you could say anything else you heard the beep of the phone being hung up. You took a deep breath, trying to think of how Harry and you were before everything changed.

2 years ago

“I can’t believe you’re officially moving to L.A.” You said as you stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him pack up his last few clothes.

“Me neither.” He simply said.

Before you could stop it, you felt a salty tear roll down you cheek. As you wiped it away, he turned around, his face dropping all previous joy, concern flooding his features.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He used the nickname he gave you 11 years ago when we were 10. It was crazy how the two of you had known each other so long, and now you were both 21, and he would be living in the city of angels.

“Just gonna miss seeing you as often as I usually do is all.” You laughed, the tears flowing more freely now. One Direction had just gone on hiatus and after spending some time at home, Harry decided to switch it up a bit. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just switch it up by not wearing skinny jeans everyday, but it seemed he wanted something bigger than that.

He pouted and walked over to you, giving me a hug before mumbling in your ear, “I’ll call you everyday. Promise.”

Promises were made to be broken, it seemed. He only calls you when he needs a hand, and only answers if he’s alone. You wish you found it more frustrating than painful, maybe that way it would be easier to move on, but you have yet to do so. You’ve asked yourself why you were still silently pining over him, with no answer in sight.

The last time you saw Harry in person was almost a year ago, when he came back to visit his family. Up until that trip he called you everyday, or close too, wanting to know about you day or he just “wanted to hear your voice”. Then when we were together it was like no time had passed while he was away.

1 year ago

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, lightly punching his bicep.

He just laughed in return, rubbing his arm acting like you had actually hurt him.

“I feel like you just got back and now you’re leaving again,” you said after a bit, knowing he was leaving the next morning. “Plus,” you added, gently playing with his hair. “I’m gonna miss your hair, it’s so fun to braid.”

He looked over at you as your hand fell to rest on his shoulder, running your fingers through his curls. “I know, but I’ll come back soon. I’ll try not to cut my hair for you, don’t worry.” He smiled at you, leaning over and pulling you into a hug.

You just returned his grin and hug, and stuck your fingers through the ringlets, having way too much fun with his hair. You noticed he was looking at you the entire time you were messing with his hair, but you convinced yourself it was because he had nowhere else to look.

Eventually, you were so close to him you could see freckles you never had before. Your breath hitched, not knowing if you should backup or not, your hand still resting on his shoulder in his curls. Then all of a sudden he was far away again, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Your heart ached with the love you had for Harry, and it seemed nothing could cure it except him and when you woke up the next morning and instinctively checked your phone, you frowned as you noticed no notifications from the one person you truly wanted to hear from.

You weren’t sure when your hurt extended from the pain of practically losing a friend to the pain of not being able to be with someone you love. You weren’t sure when you started seeing his lips as kissable and not something to put lipstick on for fun. You weren’t sure when you started looking at his hands as something to hold and not as a blocker for your playful punches.

You weren’t sure when you started stealing glances more than you usually did or avoiding eye contact because it made you nervous. You weren’t sure when your stomach was no longer empty and then filled with butterflies. You weren’t sure when he stopped calling just to talk, or when he stopped picking up. All you were sure of was that you were hopelessly in love with someone who could never feel the same.

                                                            ✧˖*°࿐

He called a few more times about the same girl, Ana. You had spoken to your friend about it, and you were slowly getting over him. Each time you were getting cut off and hung up on, and it took a really long time for you to know you deserved better. He hadn’t called you since he attempted once and you didn’t answer. It went on for a few months, he would call you almost everyday, alongside texts like “Hello?”, “Pick up, please?”, and the text that came last before you blocked him, “Are you okay?”. He didn’t deserve to know, and sure maybe you shouldn’t have just cut off all contact, but there was no other way to get over him.

A month after you blocked him, and you were no longer sulking when you checked your phone and no longer crying to sleep. You were becoming happy thanks to your self control, and finally learning that just because Harry didn’t love you, didn;t mean you shouldn’t love yourself.

You were sitting on your couch when there was a knock at your door. You looked up from the book in your lapa and stood up, scurrying to the door, not wanting the person at the other side to be waiting.

You swung it open, met with the last face you expected to see. He looked concerned almost, and almost immediately you were wrapping in his arms, after over a year he was holding you once more. Except this time you didn’t want it. You pushed him off of you and stepped back. “What are you doing here Harry?” You asked, a scowl on your face.

“I-y’wouldn’t answer me and then nothing went through, god, I was so worried, love-”

“No,” You shook your head. “Don’t call me that, you can’t just come here after being an asshole to me for over a year. You are not allowed to be worried about me, not when you haven’t bothered to ask how I am after all this time.”

His mouth dropped open in shock, you were always so calm, you never had yelled at him before. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” You pursed your lips.

“Just let me explain,” He said, hesitating like he was trying to find an answer to this, but you knew whatever he told you, nothing would change. “I-when we saw each other last, we almost kissed, or at least I almost kissed you, I love you, I was so scared that y’wouldn’t feel the same, and I guess I got caught up in trying to make you jealous. Please, m’so sorry.”

He took a step towards you and you took two steps back. There was no way he felt the same as you did- you had. And even if he did, you always knew he was shit at handling feelings, but there was no excuse.

“No, you can’t do that, say that. I don’t care if you mean it or not,” You began, tearing up. “That-thats’s so fucking terrible to do to someone, especially if you love them. I’m tired Harry, I’m done with you, I’ve been done with you for months.”

“What?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you.

“Please leave.”

Your heart broke at your own words, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not now, and maybe not ever.

“Please I-”

“I said leave, Harry.”

You could see his watery eyes as he opened his mouth to protest once more, but then closed it. There was nothing he could say. Not anymore. He was always leaving, but this time, for the first time, you wanted him to.

[purpletaecup]

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling.  When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

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[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 42)*

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+, this is smut folks. Plus, the usual warnings, and a focus on Ivar’s past experiences/trauma regarding sex, and related issues. Also, idk if I still need to let you know, but I write Ivar as a sub/bottom, always will.

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for being patient with me for taking an extra week to post this update after my return from the hiatus, I think I can get back to a more regular writing/uploading schedule from now on. Hope you like this chapter!

Alongside this chapter I posted an Ivar’s PoV. I very much encourage you to read it. You can find it here :)

Your fingers are quick making the knot, and you find yourself chuckling.

“What is it?” Ivar prompts, but the trail of kisses he leaves down your neck distracts you for a few breaths.

“I married you in red. It means nothing to your people, but does to mine,” You explain, before lifting the wrist that now bears your pendant like a bracelet between you, and tracing the inside of his wrist right under the leather knot. “And now our fates are tied as one, just as they would have in my homeland.”

“What do you mean?”

“When two people get married, amongst the things we do is tie their hands together. Like this,” You demonstrate, putting your palm against Ivar’s, fingers still greedily tracing the inside of his wrist that now bears the mark of your promise. “And a Hiereia would tie a knot to symbolize the union,” Your smile is a little dazed, more than a little lovesick, but you can’t find it in you to care. “Similar to how I did just now.”

“So we are married now?” He teases, and you chuckle, rolling your eyes. Ivar persists, though, a tad more serious, “Before your Gods, are we…are we husband and wife?”

“Of course we are,” You reply, almost affronted. Your brow presses against his, and you turn your hand to intertwine your fingers. “I swore before your Gods and mine to become your wife, did I not?”

He searches your gaze, or is lost in it, for a few breaths before he gives any answer.

The answer, it seems, is a soft smile and a slow blink of his eyes.

“I love you.” He tells you, an answer as well.

He lays his body over yours, and your senses are overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. His hands settle comfortably on your waist as he explores your mouth, tongue seeking entrance you willingly give, but he doesn’t waste a moment to grip surely on the curve of your ass when you bend one leg to bring him closer.

“I want you, I want…” He doesn’t finish his train of thought, choosing instead to trail open mouthed kisses down your throat, nuzzling at the dip between your collarbones, before his kisses grow more heated, gentle sucks and scattered bites over the tops of your breasts.

He is stopped by the nightdress you still wear, and resting his chin in the valley between you breasts, Ivar looks up at you, big eyes dark and plump lips bearing the reddish mark of your kiss. The sight shouldn’t be as distracting as it is, but you still lose yourself in it, and you think he speaks but you cannot hear it, too focused on reaching with one hand and trailing your fingers in through his loose hair.

Ivar says your name, a question, and all you can reply with is an inquisitive, hm?

“Can I…?” His hands bunch up the sides of your nightdress, the intent obvious.

It makes warmth and something else, something darker and made of iron more than silk, blossom in your chest, to hear him ask, to have him await your permission, to have him…surrender.

You nod your head, barely having to put any strength in lifting your body off the mattress to get the dress of since Ivar lifts most of your weight. That will never cease to surprise you, and you don’t think it will ever cease to make you want him even more either.

Laid bare before him, as you have been many a time before, you look up into his eyes. He doesn’t bother hiding anything right now, maybe if he tried he couldn’t, and you are witness to everything that swims in those pale blue eyes. The desire, the awe, the lingering frenzy from when you first told him of your choice, that frenzy of not wanting to waste a moment, a breath.

You had never felt want like this, not until him. You hadn’t felt wanted like this, not until him.

Not until the wide blue eyes that gaze at you like something out of a dream, not until the voice roughened by desire breathing out your name, not until the reverent and frenzied hands exploring whatever part of you that they can reach.

Ivar continues his previous trail, sealing lightning against your skin with every press of his lips over your body, with every caress of rough hands on delicate skin.

Nestled between your legs, he looks up at you with a smile that speaks of arrogance but something sweeter too, something softer.

Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder with practiced ease, Ivar licks a stripe up your center, making you shiver.

One of your hands tangles in his hair as it always does, and as Ivar starts working his tongue against you, your fingers tighten and pull at his hair, only succeeding in making him redouble his efforts, drawing the occasional moan from him that reverberates through you.

He takes his time slowly making pleasure build inside you, tightening like knot in your lower stomach, to the point where your body is begging for release.

In between tight circles of his tongue against the bundle of nerves in your core, Ivar puts his fingers inside you, skillful curling of them making your legs tremble and your breaths stutter.

Praise is falling from your lips, you aren’t sure if in any language he knows but certain he understands regardless, judging by the bite followed by a reverent kiss that he presses to the inside of your thigh.

And you climb higher and higher, lost in him, lost in the pleasure he so willingly seeks to draw out of you as if it your moans were the most exquisite form of praise.

With one last cry of his name that sounds high and breathless, you reach your peak, feeling as if the waves of pleasure rolling over you are never to end.

As you come down, you blink past the daze of pleasure and draw him back up to you, bringing his lips to yours.

You never hesitate in kissing him, even when the evidence of what he has done to you is still on his tongue. If you are honest, tasting yourself on his mouth sends a pang of heat through you each and every time.

And you are hungry and desperate, hungry for pleasure that isn’t yours, desperate for giving him the pleasure you know you can.

Your hand trails down his chest as your mouth demands entrance into his, tongue exploring his mouth leisurely. Your free hand tightens on his hair, and you pull him closer, while you reach exactly where you wanted.

You barely are able to cup your hand around him when Ivar pulls back, breaths ragged.

His hand grips at your wrist, stopping you. You expected that, though.

Ivar takes a deep breath, and states, “It won’t work, you know that.”

Your free hand reaches for the side of his face, trailing down the side of his neck, and you search his eyes as you promise fervently,

“Even if it doesn’t work normally, you can feel pleasure, Ivar. I know you can, I h-…”

“I can’t,” He interrupts you, eyes wide. You remain silent after his words, and a shaking breath leaves his parted lips. Voice low and rough, he explains, “It feels…painful, and…do you think I didn’t try, after that first night with Margrethe? I-I couldn’t go to her again, o-or anyone else, but…I believed she had done something to me, I believed-…she had to be the reason why, it had to be her fault.

You think of how long it has taken him to feel comfortable around you, how much he still struggles with the soft intimacy of just the two of you, how aware he is of his own body and where and when you touch him; and you cannot help but think he most likely wasn’t ready at all to be with that girl. You know him well enough to assume it was probably something having to do with his pride, with that public image that seems to seep into how he sees himself all too often.

Ivar continues, “I tried using my hand to-…I tried, and it…and it was useless. It is of no use,” His expression tightens, a furrow in his nose of old anger, of resentment at the world and Fate itself. “Being touched…it-…I can’t bear it.”

“Have you felt that way with me?” You ask quietly, suddenly sickened by all those times you felt him lean into your touch or almost surrender to the press of your body or your hand against him and believed you were offering pleasure. “Is it painful when I touch you?”

More than anything you wish you could be in his head right now, you wish you could know which are those thoughts that make for a few moments his breaths slightly more panicked, that make something like anguish cross his features before he can offer any words.

“No,” He tells you, letting you breathe easier, “I-It always felt…good with you. But I can’t, you know I can’t.”

Something in you steels at the way his eyes fall from yours. There is no reason he should ever feel he cannot hold your gaze, least of all for something like this.

Your hand on the side of his face is gentle, and he obeys the silent command and returns his eyes to yours. The sight of tears -this time not overwhelmed, happy, disbelieving tears at hearing you are to stay, but defeated, humiliated, helpless- makes you strengthen, offer certainty when he has none.

“It will feel good with me, Ivar,” You say, unwavering. You know it is true. Still, even if you ache to show him, you offer your words and your sincerity and nothing more. “It will feel good, because you are mine and I am yours. There’s no room for pain, for anything else, not when it’s us.

He starts shaking his head, words stuck in his throat but trembling lips trying to form them anyways. You lean closer, the hand on his cheek moving to grasp at the back of his neck.

“You can feel pleasure, my love,” You promise. His eyes -wide, uncertain eyes- jump in between yours, frantically searching your gaze as if truths can be found in you, as if he’s desperately hoping he can believe what you tell him. “Let me show you.”

“I…I’m-…”

You press your lips gently to the corner of his mouth, and even that simple and intimate touch makes him jump, makes the faint tremble of his body slightly worse.

“Shh,” You soothe, daring to put a hand on the center of his chest, the caress firm but soft as you try luring him to a normal breathing. “It is alright. I will stop if you want me to. Is that what you want?”

You lean back just enough to meet his gaze, your heart suddenly picking up speed at the sight of him. Ivar’s eyes are wide and his breathing hasn’t slowed down, and it is after a few shaky breaths that he manages to give you an answer.

The barest movement as he shakes his head, and promises, “I want you.”

Simple words, but they make pure and raw hunger run through your veins like wildfire. A wilder part of you, a part of you that lingers in all the ways he has proved he is yours, wants nothing more than to satiate this hunger with starved touches, demanding kisses and hurried and desperate proof that you want him, however you can have him.

But more than anything you want to erase any memory of any hands on his body that aren’t yours, even if they are his own, when those memories bring forth pain. You want to show him there’s no pain to be felt when it comes pleasure, you want to show him there’s no humiliation to be dreaded when it comes to intimacy.

Pleased with the answer and unable to help yourself, you capture his lips on yours, a leisurely exploration of his mouth as you press as close as you can. Ivar moans against your lips at the first of presses of your mouth on his, leaning into your touch with barely any hesitation.

When you pull back his brow is furrowed and his breaths are fast, and a pang of heat goes through you at the way he licks his lips, already missing the taste of you.

“Then trust in me,” You ask softly, your mouth moving slowly through the curve of his jaw to reach his ear. Voice low, you demand, “Give in to me, Ivar.”

The effect of your words is immediate, and Ivar doesn’t bother containing the overwhelmed little sound, somewhere in between a whimper and a moan, that leaves his parted lips. Your hand on the back of his neck is the one thing that keeps his head from falling back, and the only thought that runs through your head at the sight of him is that he is yours, yours, yours.

Past the daze of hunger and desire, you remind yourself that there will be time for hurried, there will be time for desperate and hungry. There will be time for you to leave your mark on him, there will be time for his skin to bear the reminder that he is yours and yours alone.

But now, now you want to explore every part of him, with hands, with tongue and lips. You want him to feel safe with you, you want to get him drunk on nothing but you.

And so you do.

With aimless but gentle touches of your hands over his body, with presses of your mouth that linger between hungry and soothing, with whispered praises of how much you want him, of how no one compares to him in your eyes, of how good he is for you; you make the lingering tension in his body give way to something else, you make him give in to the lull of touch and the high of being just the two of you and the intimacy between you.

And this time when you reach down and palm him over the thin barrier of his pants he doesn’t even try to stop you, instead offering a haggard breath of your name and nothing else, surrendering to your touch.

He tenses underneath you when you move your hand to reach for him under his clothes, but you press quick and soothing kisses to the exposed skin of his neck and remind him quietly,

“It is just me, Ivar. All I want is to give you pleasure, nothing will change that.”

“Y-You know I-…”

“I know,” You tell him softly, “Just focus on me, focus on how it feels.

After lifting your hand back up to your face to spit on the palm of it and make things easier, you whisper your instructions as you circle your fingers around his cock.

“It feels good when I touch you, doesn’t it, love?” You ask, not expecting an answer, but you do get one, a choked hum of affirmation. You smile against his neck, “It feels so good to finally be able to touch you, to be able to make you feel good.”

Slowly but surely, you feel him hardening slightly under your touch. You still keep the pace of your hand steady, as well as the flow of praise that falls from your lips, certain that if you draw attention to it he will close up or revert to the defeated certainty of before.

When you get him hard enough that even he cannot ignore it anymore, Ivar gasps your name, a call to stop even if you don’t obey it.

“H-How-…? I don’t-…”

“Focus on how it feels, Ivar,” You reiterate, not wanting him to overthink things, not wanting the past to have any reach in this moment. “Focus on me.”

You make sure to keep talking. He has told you many times, and proven even more, that there’s something soothing to him about you talking, either because of the sound of your voice or what you have to say, you truly don’t know.

So with your fingers toying at the waist of his loose pants, you look up and ask,

“Can I see you, my love? All of you?”

Ivar licks his lips, but they still part helplessly as he looks down at you, barely daring make a sound past the gasping breaths that leave him.

And he nods his head. His eyes remain intently on you as you take off his pants, remain on you searching for something in your gaze as you take in all of him.

Bare before you, his skin baring the faintest shine of sweat and a few marks that may be the result of less-than-gentle exploring on your part, you feel your throat tighten, your mouth dry. You want him, you want to make him moan, you want to make him surrender, you want to make him yours.

But, teasing both him and yourself it seems, you take your time, slowly crawling up his body until you are face to face with him, straddling his hips but not close enough for you to be pressed together.

Ivar looks up at you, wide eyes asking -pleading- for something that he doesn’t yet dare voice, chest rising and falling rapidly with each expectant breath.

Your mouth slowly curves into a smile, and keeping your eyes on him in a silent command that he keep looking at you, you reach for his hardening cock.

At the first of your touches Ivar lets out a haggard moan, head craning back and leaving his throat exposed, tempting you to place a few more marks here and there. But you want to see him, you want to see the effect of your touch on him.

“Look at me,” You order, a pang of heat running through you at how quickly, how pliantly, he obeys the command, forcing heavy eyelids to remain open and dark eyes to remain on you. “I want your eyes on me, love.”

His cheeks are tinted red and his eyes are slightly moist as he looks up at you, his hair roughened my movement and the passing of your fingers, he looks like every desire you’ve ever had made man.

The strong body, open gaze, the moans and whimpers he tries and fails at keeping hidden. Perfect. Yours.

You run your thumb over the tip of his cock to gather the moisture that slowly starts forming there, turning your wrist slightly when you stroke upwards. Ivar gasps, almost sitting up, but you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

And…Gods, how easily he complies, leaning back and letting you continue to touch him, surrendering his pleasure to you. And still, in the daze that makes moans and whimpers fall from his lips so easily, he still remembers to keep his gaze on you, to keep endless blue eyes focused on you. The sight of his surrender is enough to make a woman mad.

His lips form helplessly around the words before he even utters them, but eventually Ivar gasps, “It…ah, it feels…”

“Good?” You ask, and he nods his head frantically.

“Y-Yes,” He promises, eyes wide, “Don’t…don’t stop.”

You don’t stop the movements of your hand, but you move down his body, and settle between his legs. Ivar’s eyes are wide, and he looks tortured when he looks down at you.

Licking a trail from the base of his cock to the tip, you delight yourself in the tremble you make take over his whole body, and after a few tentative licks that are there just to see if you can make him beg without having to tell him to, you take him in your mouth.

He moves as if to sit up again, unconscious movement of his body against the new feeling, but you still put one hand against his stomach, keeping him down even if it is not through brute strength that you do so.

Ivar cries out your name as you start moving your mouth over him, while your hand strokes the base of him. And you try keeping your eyes on him as much as you can, not wishing to lose a moment.

You don’t keep track of time, couldn’t even if you wanted to, but you do notice him climbing closer and closer to that edge. It is written in the tension of his arms and shoulders, in the red that starts spreading over his chest, in the way the sounds he makes are broken by whimpers, in the breaths that stutter over one another.

But he stops you again.

“S-Stop, pl-…ah, please stop,” He pleads, taking a few shallow breaths when you pull back. His hands grip tightly at the sheets underneath him, and breath by breath he starts to let go. Once his hold on them is almost loose, he speaks again. “Stop, or I will…I…don’t want this to end yet.”

Your heart does a strange thing in your chest, and you move back up to be face to face with him. Your eyes linger on the few details that make him look so utterly wretched, from the faint shine of sweat on his forehead to the bite marks on his lip.

You want to kiss him, but hesitate, wondering if he will be disgusted by his own taste. Ivar doesn’t even think about that, it seems, for when you are close enough he lifts a trembling hand and tangles it in your hair, bringing your lips to his, kissing you slowly and deeply.

You pull back, a hand on his chest, and promise, “It isn’t the end, love.”

“I want to be inside you.” He argues.

“And you will be,” Is the answer you give, before kissing a quick path down his chest. Grasping him in your hand once again, you look up at him. Unable to resist the temptation, you grant the faintest of licks to his tip, making a ragged groan leave his lips. “But before that, I want to make you come undone, using just my mouth.”

He doesn’t offer any resistance after that, but judging by the way his breaths get quicker and his eyes flutter shut before you even get to put your mouth around him again, your words had a deeper effect on him than you had anticipated.

Bracing yourself on his thighs, you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, ignoring the discomfort of your jaw as you move your mouth over him.

The litany of sounds that leaves his lips becomes more ragged and broken the longer you pleasure him, even if it isn’t that long until you notice the clear tells of him being close to the edge again.

This time you redouble your efforts, daring to moan slightly around him, making a string of curses leave Ivar’s lips. And when you reach with one of your hands to play with his balls, his hands grip desperately at the sheets underneath him once again.

As Ivar’s voice begins to give out, head turned to the side and nothing but broken moans leaving his lips as you get him closer and closer to the edge, you try your hardest to commit this moment to memory. This moment, of his voice sounding so beautifully wretched by the pleasure you give him, of his body pliant under your every touch and desperate in equal measure.

Ivar reaches his peak with a hoarse shout, his back arching off the bed, wide eyes looking at the nothingness above him. You are lost in the sight of him lost in the throes of pleasure, and you can almost ignore the bitter taste of his seed as you swallow.

He loses all strength and collapses against the bed, gasping breaths as he comes down from his high. You move back up against him, pressing a kiss against his chest and resting there, soaking up his warmth.

His hand settles on your waist, but it does so with such effort that pride surges through you. His chest still heaves under you, and as you lay your cheek against his heart, you hear it beating wildly under your ear.

“That was…” He lets out an incredulous laugh, a breath past parted lips. His eyes meet yours, “Thank you.”

“Hm, so polite,” You tease, pecking his smiling lips. “I’m still going to insist that I told you so.”

And for now you remain in this moment you wouldn’t change for anything, this moment of leisurely traces of hands on each other’s bodies, this moment of kisses exchanged like secrets, this moment of a beginning in more ways than one.

____ ____ ____

So that happened! Hope it was okay! Thank you for reading!

You can find Gǫfga, the Ivar PoV that continues from this chapter, here.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​​ @heavenly1927​ @toe-vind-ek-jou​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @pieces-by-me​​ @angelofthorr​​ @samsationalwilson​​ @peachyboneless​​ @1950schick​​ @punkrocknpearls​​ @ietss​​   @itsmysticalmystery​​  @revolution-starter​​ @the-a-word-2214​​ @fae-sedai​​   @crazybunnyladysworld​​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside​​@aprilivar​​ @msrawog​​    

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Ultimatum”

Welcome back, everyone! We had an unexpected break last week due to the horror going on in Texas. I'm glad we did. Not because of any salty "RWBY is bad right now yay free Saturday" feelings, but because keeping to a schedule for a fictional webseries should never take precedence over peoples' safety. I can't believe I need to type that sentence out, but it's true! Over the last seven days I've seen fans who are not merely disappointed by the mini hiatus (understandable) but outright hostile towards the crew because they... were ensuring everyone survived during an unprecedented emergency? Yeah. Given the highly critical nature of these recaps — including today's! — I want to be clear that my thoughts towards Rooster Teeth's creative choices are distinct from any thoughts about the crew itself, including the most basic forms of compassion like, “I sure hope everyone is okay over there.” In an age where it has become horrifically common to harass creators and even send them death threats over stories, it has likewise become necessary to remind people: Don't do that shit. Never do that shit. If I can teach anyone anything at all, let it be that!

Anyway, dark fandom reminders out of the way, let's dive straight into our delayed episode. It was certainly a doozy. Titled "Ultimatum," we open on a trigger warning for flashing lights. Good on Rooster Teeth for including that, though I do wonder if creators shouldn't be including time stamps as well? Or perhaps a note that you can find those time stamps in the credits, avoiding any (minor) spoilers for everyone else? I'm not photosensitive myself, so I certainly don't mean to speak for that group, but my first thought was, "So how would I watch this episode if I was? Hand on the pause button, hoping I stop fast enough as soon as the lights start?" Hard to do given the surprise nature of the scene. Really, my answer would be, "Wait for the fandom to post warnings of their own, likely including where it happens so I know when to skip" which is perhaps an indication that this information that should be included from the get-go.

But I am glad the warning exists, regardless. The episode itself begins with a shot of Ironwood looking down at the kingdom. He's used his windows as a vantage point since Volume 7, so that's nothing new, but something about this particular shot reminded me of Ozpin, looking down from his tower. I'm sure the response from many would be simply, "Ah yes, the two power hungry dictators watching over their victims," but I think there's a much more nuanced reading here about leaders being expected to fix the literally unfixable and what that responsibility does to an individual. Of course, it's a nuance that is absolutely obliterated by the episode’s end, but the implication existed for a hot second!

Two other soldiers are in the room with Ironwood, reporting that Cinder has helped Watts escape. They try to soften this with news that they still have Jacques in custody, but receive only a, "I don't give a damn about Jacques Schnee." Which, fair. He's pretty useless at this point. It's when Ironwood learns that both Qrow and Robin escaped too that he really gets mad, something his subordinates have been expecting given their scared expressions.

Now, I'm treading lightly here because I realize how this is going to sound given the end of our episode, but I still want to note that outside of that ending... this is a weird take? Just hear me out. Since Volume 7 the show has worked very hard to make Ironwood seem scary and unstable — bad setup for what we end with today — but the problem is that none of it works in context and it certainly doesn't work when compared to other characters' actions. They are literally in the midst of an unwinnable battle and thousands of his people are dying. If the audience wants a human being — who also just lost a limb and was betrayed by half his allies — o remain perfectly poised and polite during that, sorry, but that's not how human beings work. But even beyond this, what’s the message here? Ironwood raises his voice, so does Yang. Ironwood hits his desk, Qrow hits a child. If we're going to examine how Ironwood handles his stress and anger, he often handles it better than many of our heroes. Namely, by continually taking that anger out on inanimate objects. I kept waiting for him to attack his subordinates or attack Winter this episode, especially given where we end up, but it never came. Ironwood always has enough control to break the desk or punch the wall, not the person in front of him. Which, of course, would not be a good thing in the real world. I want to be clear given these sensitive subjects that if someone is breaking things in your presence that's a major problem to address. But this isn't the real world. This is a fantasy world in the middle of a war, populated by other characters who express their anger by punching people, slamming them into walls, or screaming at them until they run away. The story wants us to fear Ironwood long before he makes his objectively horrific choices and it tries to achieve that by showing us characters who are clearly terrified in his presence, by giving us a string of broken objects in his wake. But those details don't land well when we compare them to other instances of stress. In the same volume I have watched Ironwood take a deep breath to calm himself down when things have gone horribly wrong. I've also watched Weiss start a conversation by threatening her defenseless brother. So again, what’s the message here? It can’t be that acting violently towards someone = villainous behavior because, as established since Volume 6, that’s common for the heroes. Why are these subordinates terrified about Ironwood slamming his fist on a table, but Whitley has no problem hugging the woman who threatened him? Obviously there is a HUGE difference between our main group and Ironwood when it comes to other actions (cough-bomb threats-cough), but these day-to-day moments don't match up. The show wants to use violence as a way for us to easily identify the Bad Guy while ignoring all the times when our heroes do the same thing. 

All of which isn't meant to be a defense of Ironwood. As we'll see in a bit, there is no defense for what he's done. Rather, it's a way of acknowledging just how badly he's been written. Why does a man who consistently reins in his anger and takes it out on objects suddenly shoot a councilman for literally no reason? Why does a man defined by wanting to save as many people as he can suddenly threaten to bomb his city? Ironwood's characterization is all over the place, in the sense that they keep writing him as the morally gray, sometimes harsh, but ultimately compassionate man he started out as... up until they need a villain. Salem isn't here yet, so Ironwood can shoot Oscar. Salem isn't attacking yet, so Ironwood can shoot the councilman. Salem is currently reforming, so Ironwood can threaten YJR and Mantle. He's the B-plot villain whenever Salem is out of commission, which is a problem for both their characterizations. This filler doesn't make sense for Ironwood and it severely undermines the threat of Salem. You finally introduce the Magical Big Bad and our heroes are facing more of a threat from a guy with a broken army and three loyal allies left? Hmmm.

The tl;dr is that Ironwood's arc is a disaster and, frankly, it's gotten old reading simplified takes of, "It's just a realistic look at what white U.S. men will do in power sweetie :) " RWBY does not have the context capable of conveying that sort of critical take because our world is not besieged by literal monsters and an immortal witch, to say nothing of how real life good guys do not get deus ex machina canes that fix the problem instantaneously. Ironwood is not an example of anti-U.S. imperialism, he's an example of writers who don't know how to write.

Anyway, I'm getting severely off topic. Obviously Ironwood is a major part of this episode, but the problems demonstrated here are two years in the making. This is the culmination of things I've been discussing for months across hundreds of posts... so I should probably stop trying to summarize it all in a few paragraphs lol. Perhaps when RWBY is over — or Ironwood has died — I'll do a single meta on his character, try to pull everything into one, unified argument.

For now though, we have an episode to analyze.

While Ironwood is receiving this news we get flashbacks to Qrow and Robyn. Qrow attacks a soldier in his bird form, which is hilarious. Someone GIF that please. It does raise some interesting questions about this magic though: does Qrow retain his aura and strength in this form (something I thought given his choice to transform during the explosion), or was that soldier just so shocked at being attacked by a crow that he went down easy? We'll never know, because that would require establishing concrete rules for this world. The point is Qrow is going feral in his freedom, throwing punches left and right — did he kill that guard? — while Robyn watches it all from under a rock. They're apparently still somewhere in the facility since all the exits are guarded, but that's not the good thing Ironwood seems to think it is. After all, Qrow is out to murder him. He wants to be there.

We all see where this is going, right? The show is going to ignore Qrow's crazy belief that Ironwood got Clover killed in favor of a "Qrow saved Mantle by murdering Ironwood"/“Qrow got revenge for Mantle by murdering Ironwood” ending. Who cares why Qrow wanted to kill him in the first place now that Ironwood has his finger on the trigger? If RWBY is good at anything, it's writing moments that encourage you to ignore everything that came before it. We'll be seeing more of that in just a bit.

"Damn it!" Ironwood yells, because the show is leaning into its cursing. He orders that the subordinates not return until "you have Qrow Branwen in custody." Here we have another great example of the show conflating what the audience knows with what other characters know. See, we know Qrow has a vendetta against Ironwood. We know their relationship is the important one to the story and that Robyn is incidental. Ironwood doesn't know that. There's no reason for him, as a character, to specify that they only bring Qrow back, but it makes sense for the audience who has the whole, thematic picture. Our understanding of the situation is influencing Ironwood's dialogue, which is... not great.

This entire scene we've had creepy music to hammer home just how evil Ironwood is. Except, as said, he takes a breath to calm down and the music fades. Instead of flying into a rage, hurting someone, or doing anything the music suggests he might, Ironwood calmly calls in for an update — which is when the explosion hits.

It's MASSIVE, seeming to originate from a lightning strike, which is weird, since it's coming from inside the whale, but whatever. The animation is very dramatic and pretty, as we've come to expect of RWBY, but the actual plot is lackluster at best. It's funny though because I thought for a hot second, when Winter and the Ace Ops were caught in the blast, that RWBY had actually done something exciting. I mean, holy shit! There are the deaths we expect from a battle like this. My god, what is everyone going to do when they realize that Oscar's needless attack took out five characters, including Weiss' sister —

No wait, never mind. They're fine.

Let's talk about that "needless" descriptor for a moment though. Do you all remember, two weeks ago, when I went, "Hey, why isn't anyone telling Oscar that that Ace Ops are approaching with a bomb? They're on a time limit! If someone would just mention that Very Important Information then Oscar wouldn't keep standing around to fight Salem." See, at the time I was frustrated because of how the plot was needlessly allowing Oscar to put himself in danger (especially when the whole point of this mission was to rescue him). Now, I'm frustrated because that same plot needlessly wasted the most powerful weapon the group had. There was no reason for Oscar to use literal lifetimes worth of stored energy when the heroes already had a bomb to do the same job! What was the point of that? I guess he took out the other grimm too, but without the whale that still would have been a challenge with a finite end, one Ironwood's army and the remaining huntsmen should have been able to handle. It doesn't feel justified to have Oscar use a weapon kept on the bench for lifetimes when there was another option literally minutes away.

There's so much wrong with this I need another list. So:

Ozpin's cane supposedly stores kinetic energy, which may contradict what we've seen from it before. Regardless, we’ve never heard about this. The all powerful weapon comes out of nowhere

It also begs the question of why Ozpin wouldn't use that power at Beacon and why he wouldn't insist that they try to get their cane back while captured. You had an out this whole time! But we’re going to ignore that because Oscar is a little hesitant? 

Which makes YJR's presence even more useless than it originally was, which was already pretty useless. Oscar essentially rescued himself

This kinetic energy miraculously doesn't hurt any people or buildings, just grimm

So what is the point of Silver Eyes? That's been their MO since they were first introduced. Sure, Silver Eyes can be used far more often than Ozpin's cane, but it still feels like a let down to learn that the Big Secret behind this weapon is... the exact same thing Ruby has been doing for years

Like Ruby, Oscar likewise didn't need any practice or training. He just set off this massive attack perfectly and without issue

We have now eliminated the biggest threat to the cast instantaneously — the whale and the other grimm — with no effort from the rest of the heroes. Like the Hound, the stakes are obliterated with no satisfying work on the part of our protagonists 

Instead, as said, the actual plan already in place never happened. The bomb just... goes back. Kind of like how Cinder attacked and then just went back to Salem. Penny woke up and then just got knocked out again. We continue to go in circles 

This is because no one took two seconds to tell Oscar, "There's a bomb on the way"

Because this threat is gone the show needs a new one, hence Ironwood randomly threatening Mantle with said bomb

The one way we might have justified Oscar blowing up the whale instead of Winter is if he did it to save Hazel, but Hazel is implied to be dead

Maybe he's alive, but if he's not that happened off screen and we're not sure how. It couldn't have been because of the blast itself — everyone else is fine — so what, Salem somehow killed him before she was blasted to bits? While he was holding her? 

And there's no body?

Salem was torn apart multiple times during that fight and reformed instantaneously, yet now, conveniently, she's taking her time

None of the characters mention the issues above. None of them admit that there was no reason for Oscar to waste LIFETIMES worth of power when they already had a solution in the works. Fantastic

I need to take a moment to acknowledge that so far this recap feels... bad. Disjointed. Bit all over the place. Which makes a certain amount of sense because that's where my thoughts are at. There's so much going on in this episode — so much wrong with it — that I don't know how to boil it all down into a few, neat claims. This episode is a mess! We're barely a few minutes in and the combined issues of Ironwood's characterization and Oscar's choice have left me reeling. So if you're still reading this, bless your patience, I think we'll both need it for the rest of this journey.

Let's snag a neater plot-point to discuss. Amidst all the chaos Neo literally skips away with the Lamp, clearly thrilled at how her own life is going. Later in the episode she'll text Cinder with the obvious: Salem is going to be pretty pissed when she realizes this is gone. “If you want her name you know what you owe me." 

So wait... what is Neo leveraging here? Is she agreeing to give the Lamp back so Cinder doesn't get in trouble with Salem? Give Salem the password she's been looking for? Or give Cinder the password to use the Lamp for herself? What would Cinder even want the Lamp for when she's after the Maiden powers? I'm confused about what Cinder is being blackmailed with. Regardless, she needs the lamp for something and presumably what she "owes" Neo is Ruby. We get a cut to her just to hammer that home.

(Side note: both pictures of Neo are hilarious.) 

Before that though, back at the whale, everyone is taking stock of the situation when Marrow cries, "Hey, they were still in there!" I feel like this is another scene meant to make him look like the one good guy in the group — he cares about YJOR while the others can’t be bothered — but as always, that reading doesn't fit well with the situation as a whole. The others have barely had time to realize they're alive. I don't think it's a moral failing that they didn't instinctually worry about four betrayers, one of whom attacked them, while they're still checking that they have all their limbs intact. Besides, why does Marrow assume they're dead? The Ace Ops were caught in the blast as well, yet miraculously came out unharmed. They clearly didn't set their own bomb off, so it's logical to assume that YJOR did something themselves. It feels weird to have a "Marrow mourns them and Winter is the only other character who cares" moment when everyone is recovering from bomb shock and no one even knows if the others are dead. But, of course, the show is out to portray only two of these characters as good people, so ignore the logic and run with the emotion of the scene.

All of which is bolstered by Elm pulling away when Vine puts a hand on her shoulder. Why is she acting cold towards him now? Because they're not friends, remember?

While we get more ridiculous relationship dynamics, Ironwood calls in and congratulates them on the bomb working, but tells them to get back because they have another problem in the works. That would be Qrow and Robyn. Winter decides to tell him about the bomb in person.

We cut to Watts and Cinder watching the remnants of the blast from a rooftop. Cinder has tried calling, but no one answered. Unsurprising, given that Salem doesn't have any other allies left. Cinder says that the plan hasn't changed, she's still going to take the Winter Maiden's power for herself, and Watts can help her by bringing Penny here. He explains that he doesn't have full control over her. Rather, he implemented a virus that is setting her on a single path: open the vault, then self-destruct. Cinder, as one might expect, is furious.

She snags Watts by her grimm arm and threatens to toss him over the side of the building. Thus begins the best part of the episode, hands down. Despite the danger he's in, Watts throws common sense out the window in favor of dragging Cinder in the most satisfying manner possible. 

“You think you’re entitled to everything just because you suffered, but suffering isn’t enough. You can’t just be strong, you have to be smart. You can’t just be deserving, you have to be worthy! But all you have ever been is a bloody migraine!”

It's true! You know what else is true? This speech could apply to our heroes as well. Accusations of entitlement and reminders to be smart as opposed to just strong hit hard, considering those are the same flaws our protagonists are struggling with. The difference is that Cinder, miraculously, listens, pulling Watts back to safety and going to cry by herself. That moment is simultaneously more growth than Ruby has gotten and more sympathy than Ironwood has gotten. The woman who murdered Pyrrha is treated more kindly by the narrative than one of our initial heroes and our very first villain has taken more time to reconsider her choices than our title character. You know a show is falling apart when excellent choices are applied to the worst possible character.

So Cinder is crying while Watts looks guilty and we cut back to YJOR's group post-blast. Yang is finally able to answer a call from Blake who is obviously overjoyed to see her. Weiss gives them directions to the mansion and they ask what in the world they'll do with Emerald, currently on her knees, mourning Hazel.

Thus begins the third most frustrating part of this episode. See, on the way back the group continues the conversation about what to do with Emerald, with Yang and Jaune distrusting her vs. Ren and Oscar encouraging cooperation. I can't believe I'm saying this after's Ren's speech and Oscar's entire existence... but I'm team Jaune and Yang here. Look, what Oscar and Ren say — the literal words coming out of their mouth — is nonsense. Ren goes, “We can’t let all of our actions stem from fear," as if Yang and Jaune are being ridiculous for mistrusting Emerald, one of the established villains, after years worth of harm from her. It’s weird that Yang points to her arm as something Emerald is responsible for, rather than being framed or the deaths at Beacon, but the general sentiment of, “She’s done horrible things!” is true. Ren’s perspective is the same simplification that was applied to Ironwood last volume, wherein everyone acted as if he was crazy for fearing an attack on his kingdom... post an attack on another kingdom and pre an attack on his kingdom. Putting generic lines in Ren's mouth about not being afraid makes him sound willfully ignorant, as if choosing to believe that someone is good will magically make them so, to say nothing of thinking it will erase all the harm they've already done.

Oscar at least acknowledges the difficulty here, but then follows this up with, “You don’t have to forgive her… just give her a second chance."

Oscar, honey, that amounts to the same thing in this situation. Allowing Emerald a second chance means working with her, which means trust, which means emotionally reaching a point where these characters can put aside the harm she's done them in an effort to give her that chance in the first place. This actually ties into a post I saw last night, one I've come across before, that claims redemption arcs don't require any suffering on the part of the person who has done wrong. I agree in theory, that prolonged suffering doesn't help anyone, but the problem is that people tend to conflate suffering with consequences and someone who has done this level of harm should face consequences for their actions. The problem with redemption arcs is not that the bad people suffer too much —  emotionally and physically beating on them as a form of revenge  — but that the people they've harmed are put into situations like this one. If Yang and Jaune let Emerald go like she suggests, they are agreeing that she doesn't have to face any consequences for the damage she's done (which, keep in mind, involves multiple deaths, not including all the lost lives here in Atlas). If they agree to give her a second chance, they are forced to jump straight to some level of forgiveness. We might claim they don't have to forgive Emerald to work with her, but from a practical perspective how are they meant to function, especially during a warzone? Anything she provides them with — information, watching their back in a fight, undertaking missions, etc.  — requires trusting her enough to allow those things to happen: working with that info, letting her protect them, allowing her that responsibility. It's all about trust, trust she has yet to earn. In order for a redemption arc to be successful, the power has to be in the hands of the victims. They need to be able to see some justice for what was done to them, be offered some proof that the person in question has truly changed, and have the ability to walk away if they decide no, I don't forgive you, glad to hear you've improved, but please stay out of my life. Jaune and Yang have none of that. There are currently no systems in place for Emerald to face consequences for her choices, she has offered them no proof of her remorse or true motivations, and the other half of the group is pressuring them to give her that second chance without closure or reassurance. None of that makes for a good redemption arc and reducing that to, "So you want to see poor Emerald suffer, huh?" ignores the suffering she has already caused. The group are her victims and they are under no obligation to give her a second chance, particularly under these circumstances, which makes the story's choice to have Ren and Oscar act like Yang and Jaune are being stubborn or inconsiderate a problem. The conversation boils down to, "Give the woman you know to be a liar, manipulator, murder accomplice, and servant of our enemy a second chance based entirely on unfounded faith. If you don't you're letting yourself be ruled by fear."

RWBY's touchy-feely themes really don't sit well within its realistic, morally gray premise. We cannot continually have these characters go through hell one moment and then have others accuse them of being paranoid the next. The fact that all of this is wrapped up in the group trusting Robyn, Emerald, and Hazel over their established allies remains beyond frustrating.

Because yeah, you know how Oscar finishes his speech? “I’ve already gotten a lot of help today from someone I don’t exactly trust right now." Meaning Ozpin.

The story is trying to compare Emerald and Hazel to Ozpin.

"Oh hey, I kept a secret from you after lifetimes of watching that secret lead to betrayal and death. I keep apologizing for my mistakes while ignoring that I had no reason to trust a bunch of kids with such world-shattering information and also that you tore it from me in the most traumatic way possible."

"Oh hey, I willingly joined our world's version of the devil and helped her destroy your school, leading to numerous deaths including your friend and headmaster. It was his death that put Oscar in this position in the first place! I then continued to attack your group, leading to another near death of a friend, and a kidnapping, and the destruction of Amity, until I became scared enough to make a run for it."

Which one of these characters is granted an instant second chance? You'll never guess who!

And I do think the word "instant" is important here because just like Jaune and Yang have the right to have distance and justice from Emerald, they had that right with Ozpin too. The difference is they got it. They had the power in the situation, as evidenced by their use of the Lamp and physically attacking him. Ozpin heard what they needed from him — leave us alone — and did that without complaint. They were given months to come to terms with the secrets he kept. They were offered apologies and acts of service to demonstrate intent: saving them in the airship and continually saving Oscar. I don't believe Ozpin ever needed a redemption arc, but even if we think he did, he had it. After three volumes of material Oscar's perspective is still "I don't exactly trust [him] right now" but Hazel and Emerald have earned at least the same amount of trust in a matter of hours? They're really having my boy look at the guy who has tried desperately to do right by him despite unimaginable circumstances, and the guy who tortured him to get information for Salem, and went, "That first guy. He's the one we need to watch out for."

To make things even worse, Oscar tells the others that Ozpin took on all the torture so he wouldn't have to. So he did that and they still don't trust him? If you had told me back in Volume 6 that two years later the group would still be hostile towards Ozpin, while simultaneously urging one another to trust Emerald, I would have said you were lying. RWBY has its problems, but it's not that bad. Yet here we are. I suppose the one silver lining here is that Ren smiles when he realizes Ozpin is back? So at least one of them isn't prepared to draw their weapon at the mere mention of his name.

Both these moments raise more questions though. How in the world did Ozpin take on that torture when we clearly saw Oscar getting pummeled for a good portion of the kidnapping? Is that a weird merge thing the story hasn't bothered to explain? I wouldn't be surprised, considering Oscar said last episode he didn't want to use magic because it hastened the merge, he uses the biggest explosion of magic we've ever seen, and nothing has changed. Ozpin is still in the back of his head, thanking him for the tinniest shreds of decency they get. Ren, meanwhile, seems to be back to mindreading. How in the world does he know that Ozpin is back? I assume it has something to do with his semblance, but we don't know what. They could have shown us Oscar from Ren's perspective, perhaps with two distinct emotions swilling around to imply that he sees two different people now, not a useless shot of Emerald with purple flower petals, whatever purple means.

Oh, but no, we shouldn't have gotten either of these scenes. Remember that Ren's aura broke a very, very short time ago? Is it back already? Can he use this part of his semblance without it? Considering it was near impossible to see Ironwood's aura breaking in the Watts fight and we were then mistakenly told he used his semblance in the office, I'm going to go with, "The writers forgot."

Oscar explains that the cane had "lifetime after lifetime" of power in it and though there's still some left, "we have to be careful with how we use the rest." He says that Ozpin trusted his judgement and of course he did! Ozpin also didn’t know that there was a bomb on the way. Yet funnily enough, no one else mentions that, whoops, your choice made in ignorance was a waste and that's due entirely to us prioritizing hugs over basic mission information.

Also, all these explanations take place in front of Emerald. Half the group doesn't trust her, but they'll freely discuss their powers and limitations here. Remember how the group once wanted to talk about magical relics in front of the old lady they'd just met? Yeah, they've learned nothing.

Combine all this insanity with the fact that Ozpin's magic saved the day before Ironwood's bomb could do the same... while Ruby sat in a mansion drinking tea. Who's our hero again?

So things are a hot mess, to put it lightly. Their conversation finally ends when they hear voices and round the corner to find all the Atlas citizens huddled in the subway. For once the show actually writes them in a sympathetic manner, emphasizing how terrified and helpless they are. This image doesn't lead the group to any revelations though, certainly not anything that would tie back to Ren's earlier speech in the snow. No, once again the justified criticisms here are ignored as we hear that “However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you, [Emerald.]” That's it then. Discussion over. We knew as soon as it started that blindly trusting her was being presented as the "right" thing to do and now here we are, deciding that conclusively, despite Jaune and Yang's complaints. By the time the group reaches the mansion, Oscar is defending Emerald from Ruby. We're supposed to just accept that she's a part of the group now, only minimal pushback allowed.

Before that though we return to Ironwood getting news that their bomb never went off. He briefly wonders who else could have done that, but puts the currently unanswerable question aside for what he does know. They still have the bomb and it could be "useful." See, this moment — like shooting Oscar and the councilman — is when Ironwood just randomly goes off the deep end. One minute he's talking about what they've lost and cradling his new arm, 

the next he's saying that he should have tortured Qrow to get Penny to obey him! Which doesn't even make sense since I'm pretty sure Penny hasn't ever spoken to Qrow. She wouldn't want anyone to suffer, true, but it's not like Ironwood had a close friend like Ruby to use as leverage. Qrow is just Some Guy to her. Regardless, he thinks Yang, Jaune, and Ren are decent replacements, despite Penny also having no relationships with them. This is what happens when your characters only start breaking up their teams eight years into the story, the response to Ironwood wanting to torture Ren to hurt Penny is, “Does Penny know Ren exists?” But, you know, torture is torture, right? Maybe. Probably not. I mean, if they're going to turn Ironwood into a cartoon villain, they could at least keep him smart.

Because all of this is just the height of stupidity. Ironwood wants to torture people Penny barely knows to make her listen (so just grab some civilians? It would do the same job...). Ironwood wants to shoot down empty ships, even though no one, including us, knows where in the world those ships would have gone. Ironwood wants to destroy an entire city to try and save another city. He wants to use a bomb meant for a comparatively small whale and acts like that alone will take out the majority of a kingdom. None of it makes sense! And I know the easy comeback for that is, "Well yeah, Ironwood is crazy and evil" but he's not. I mean he is. Threatening torture and bombings is obviously evil, but he's never been insane, or stupid. As said before, his arc (or lack thereof) is an absolute disaster. The fandom assumes so many things about Ironwood given the opportunity — the whale is a suicide mission. He expects the Ace Ops to die on his order — and the writing hints at so many things that never happen — he's going to hurt his subordinates, attack Winter for disobeying him — and every time what we actually get is a far more compassionate, level-headed character... until he randomly does a 180 and goes, "Let's murder a whole city now!" I never wanted Ironwood to be the bad guy, but they could have at least given me a persuasive decent into this level of horror.

So... yeah. Ironwood has got to die by the end of the volume, yeah? Between Ruby warning the whole world about him and him going into full villain mode, there's no coming back from this.

Neo sends her text to Cinder and the group makes it back to the mansion. Remember Yang's criticisms of Ruby's leadership? The ones she conveniently forgot about when Ren started to agree with her? Yeah, those are entirely gone as the sisters hug it out and, presumably, forgive one another for... daring to admit that things are bad? Look, I'm not going to deny that Ironwood's scene with Winter was creepy as fuck, 

but I'm not of the opinion that the heroes are any better when it comes to the theme of obedience. They've attacked one another, screamed at one another, and any dissent from Ruby's leadership results in the questioner being left behind in the snow. We'll accept you again when you fall back in line. I used to adore the relationships in this show, but watching them now is just discomforting. The show might be 100% more obvious with Ironwood, using creepy music, a smile, and that hand on Winter's shoulder, but the concept of, "Sorry I dared to question you before! We won't ever do it again :)" isn't healthy either. The fact that the show keeps erasing theses problems with hugs — Weiss hugs Whitley now, Yang hugs Ruby, someone will probably hug Emerald soon — doesn't make the circumstances any less uncomfortable.

None of this even gets into the Blake and Yang hug. First of all, why is Blake acting like they had a fight and Yang might not want to see her? She's hiding inside rather than rushing to greet them, ears down in a devastated expression until Yang touches her. Combine this with Yang's "Do you think she's mad at me?" and it feels like the writers cut a fight in the final script and then didn't bother to remove the fallout from that. Seriously, where did any of this come from? You can't just have characters act like they've been fighting when they haven’t.

Also, can't forget this.

At this point there's nothing more I can say in regards to RWBY's almost-queer baiting. Is touching foreheads more intimate than the hugs Yang gave the others? Absolutely. Is that an appropriate stand-in for overt representation? Absolutely not. This would have been a perfect time for them to kiss. Take out Blake's nonsensical fear and replace it with them both reuniting after their first separation since Volume 5, working under the knowledge that either one could have been killed, finally admitting their feelings. Hell, they don't actually have to kiss. Not all girlfriends are interested in kissing! But they could use the terminology that makes things unequivocally canon.  Another forehead touch when we got that in Volume 6? It's not enough, especially not when our straight couples have all been allowed their rep.

Ren at least wants to know where Nora is. He's presumably told what happened off screen as Oscar tells Ruby that Emerald is their friend now.

Then an emergency call from May interrupts the reunion and the group learns that Ironwood is bombing the Schnee ships. “Those ships… they were going to save people” Weiss whispers. How? Tell me how they were going to save anyone. Where were you going to take these people where they would be safer than where they are now? RWBY continually asserts things without explaining them, meaning there is precisely zero emotional weight here. Again, Ironwood is far past the point of defense, but I'd be a whole lot more critical of this particular action if I had a better sense of why it's bad. He appears to be endangering the people given May's shout to run — falling debris? — but the further implication is that Ironwood has doomed the people of Mantle by denying them these ships. It's that part that makes no sense based on what we've been told.

Which finally comes to the ultimatum of our episode title: Penny opens the vault, or Ironwood bombs Mantle. Great! So glad this plan is wicked smart and works well for his characterization. It's definitely not a nonsensical, unfounded, overblown change that feels like it belongs in a child's cartoon, complete with dramatic spotlight. Nope. Excellent writing choices all around.

Our final line of the episode is, “I hope you live up to the title I gave you," referring to Penny's job as the Protector of Mantle, and you know what? That line could have been very cool if it was delivered by an Ironwood with a persuasive fall and a halfway decent plan in place. I love that we've twisted the concept of a protector and turned the title into a horrifying, rather than honorable responsibility... I just hate everything surrounding those details. 

So, usual RWBY fare.

(At least we get to see that Nora is awake!) 

Will things get better over the next four episodes? I doubt it. We're still expecting the rest of the Ace Ops + Winter to ditch Ironwood, someone getting the vault open, the fall of Atlas, now the potential destruction of Mantle, and none of that includes Salem who should reform at any moment. Frankly, I'm not looking forward to any of it. The final leg of a season should make its audience excited to see how everything turns out, not dreading it. I've heard from multiple people that this is the volume that finally got them to drop the show and honestly? I'm not surprised.

As a final (happier?) note: we've finally got a bingo! I completely forgot our board last time, which was a terrible oversight, but we can update it now.

Our army of grimm can't kill anyone now that it got KOed by Oscar (that is the third one hit defeat of a major enemy we've seen this volume. Yes, I'm including the Hound considering it was obviously on its last legs after Ruby's eyes.)

I'm likewise including "Ozpin apologizes for everything including his existence" because he's done nothing but apologize since he came back. The emotion is there even if the literal words are not. Oscar reminded everyone of how untrustworthy he is, but kept the group from jumping them again. And Ozpin thanked him for it.

Neo didn't literally backstab Cinder (shame), but the Relic still counts.

So a triple bingo! Is that how bingo works? Idk, I've never played. I feel like I should have thought up some sort of humorous prize, but sadly I've got nothing. If you think of anything, let me know lol

That’s all then, folks. Until next week! 💜