#spoiler alert: he can’t let go and let his memory dance //:

[gravity-between-us]

Gravity Between Us

Chapter 17: Zero Gravity

Summary: Caleb and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. We were once childhood friends, our bond as natural as the stars in the sky. But now, everything has changed. What used to feel like a safe, familiar orbit between us now pulses with unspoken desire.

Our friendship is no longer enough to keep the tension at bay, and the distance between us feels unbearable. Secrets, lies, and unhealed wounds stand in our way. I don’t know if we can survive this new gravity pulling us together... but I can’t keep pretending I don’t want to try.

Pairing: Female! MC [Named] x Caleb

Spoilers: Spoilers for Caleb's Myth's, as well as memories. Read at your own risk for these. Lore spoilers.

WARNINGS:

Unlikely to be completely canon. The other love interests will not be likely to appear in this fic.

MC is named. MC is socially awkward. MC can be depressed at times.

Very? Slow Burn.

Very explicit smut (Chapter 12 onward): PiV/oral (male and female receiving)/anal sex. Fingering. First time. Pet names (angel, babe, baby, pip-squeak). Kinks: Praise, breeding, creampie, light dom/sub. Rough. Some consensual degradation talk (MC is into it). Probably many, many more that I am forgetting to name. If you see one that should be listed that isn't, feel free to let me know. (MC is a repressed deviant, and so is Caleb.)

Awkward blend of darker moments, angst, fluff, and humour.

Drinking. Questionable life decisions. MC spirals.

Protective Caleb. Both MC and Caleb are a little obsessive and overly protective of each other, which could be considered an unhealthy relationship.

We will revisit memory scenes, but they will be different from the memories in-game.

As proofread as I can get it, but not beta read, so probably some mistakes.

Limited plot - most focus is just on their relationship and interactions.

More warnings could be applied, but as a general rule of thumb, please read at your own risk and do not continue if you find the content triggering.

The warmth of midmorning light kisses my skin, I stretch with the smug grace of someone in a mattress commercial and immediately freeze. There’s a sensation. A very specific, very horrifying sensation. 

Oh, fuck. No, no, no, no, no!

I fling the covers off and look down at the sheets only to be greeted by what can only be described as a modern art crime scene. An abstract splash of crimson devastation sprawled beneath me like I spent the night doing interpretive dance in the blood of my enemies sometime between REM cycles.

“Shit.”

I slap a hand over my face, already feeling the slow, dreadful ooze continuing its vile descent. This cannot be happening. I grab my phone from the nightstand with the urgency of someone disarming a bomb, click open my period tracking app, and… It’s right on time.

“How is that even possible?” I hiss at the phone like it personally betrayed me. “You’re supposed to warn me, not sneak up on me like some uterus ninja with a vendetta!”

I scroll back through my notifications. Oh, there it is. The little alert I completely ignored while I was either passionately screaming at Caleb or passionately fucking him like he was the last star in the galaxy and I intended to go supernova with his name clawed down my throat.

Launching myself out of bed, I survey the wreckage. The sheets are toast. The mattress is probably emotionally scarred. I’m leaking down my thighs like a haunted Capri Sun. I slap a hand between my legs like I can physically catch it, like I’m holding back a flood with sheer willpower and a prayer.

I barrel into the bathroom, rip open the cabinet, and—empty. I squat down and double-check. Back of the cabinet? Dust and shame. Medicine drawer? Not even a sad emergency panty liner. Bottom shelf? Caleb’s stupid fancy razors and overpriced face cream.

Who forgets tampons?! What kind of reckless, chaos-witch just raw dogs a lunar cycle with nothing but vibes?

Me. I’m the disaster, and the agent of my own undoing.

I look around wildly, grabbing the first thing I see: a sock. ��No,” I mutter, horrified by my own brain.

Tossing it aside like it insulted my bloodline, I yank off a wad of toilet paper, rolling it into a lumpy little horror taco like I’m MacGyvering my way through a high-stakes espionage mission. I stare at it solemnly. Will this hold? Will this… tissue paper tampon of dreams stand strong in the face of the crimson tide?

It disintegrates in my hand.

New plan! I rifle through the drawer like a raccoon on a bender. My eyes land on a bright yellow microfiber cloth, and for one bleak, desperate second, I consider it.

A wave of silent despair washes over me. This is it. This is how I die. Not from some noble cosmic cause like enemy fire or a plasma explosion. No. I am going to perish in a puddle of uterine vengeance and improvised hygiene, naked and betrayed by biology.

There I am: awkwardly half-squatting over the toilet like I’m summoning a bathroom demon, one hand clutching a rapidly disintegrating wad of toilet paper, the other gripping the sacred microfiber cloth of desperation and regret when Caleb waltzes up to the bathroom door I apparently did not close in my frantic dash.

“Hey, pip-squeak, you want—”

Caleb stops. Dead. Mid-sentence. Mug of coffee in hand. His eyes lock on me.

Time halts.

I freeze like a deer caught sacrificing goats in the moonlight.

“Get. Out.” I shriek, flailing the toilet paper at him like a deranged exorcist with a very absorbent crucifix.

He blinks. Slowly. Like he’s not sure if this is real or a trauma dream. “…Is that a sock?”

“It was an option, Caleb! I am a resourceful and desperate woman!”

He stares, taking in the horror show: my legs clamped like a human nutcracker, hair a disaster, surrounded by rogue cotton, abandoned hope, and what looks like the aftermath of a sacrificial blood ritual.

Caleb, bless his heart, doesn’t immediately laugh. “I… I brought coffee.”

“I cannot drink coffee right now,” I hiss, voice cracking. “I am waging war against my uterus with household textiles.”

A tense silence descends. Then he snorts, chokes, and collapses into giggles so hard he has to lean on the doorframe.

“Oh my god,” he gasps between laughs, eyes watering. “Is this what happens when your period starts? Do you always go full menstrual MacGyver?”

“I forgot to pack tampons!” I screech, throwing the sock like a grenade of shame. “I was too busy either screaming at you or climbing you like a fire escape!”

He sets the mug down before he drops it, laughing so hard he’s wheezing like a dying accordion.

I glare with the fire of a thousand vengeful wombs. “If you don’t leave right now, I swear I will use you. As. A. Tampon.”

His face twists in the most dramatic grimace of horror, as if I just threatened to turn him into a sentient cotton swab. “The war gods,” he whispers, backing away slowly, “they are very angry.”

“I hate you. I am dying. There is blood everywhere. You’re dating a hemorrhaging embarrassment.”

And he—still laughing—just nods solemnly like he’s attending my tragic, period-fuelled funeral. “And I love you more every second of it.”

He saunters over to the cabinet above the bathroom counter like we’re not in the middle of a full-blown menstrual apocalypse. Opens it, reaches up, and pulls out a box of tampons.

Caleb turns around slowly, like he’s unveiling the Mona Lisa, and presents them with a flourish. “Here. Bought these last week. Figured you’d need ‘em.”

“You… what?”

“There’s pads up there, too,” he adds nonchalantly. “All the kinds. Wings, no wings, overnight, ultra-thin. I didn’t know which type you liked, so I just panic-bought the entire aisle.”

“You knew when my period was coming?” I squint at him like he’s just hacked into the mainframe of my uterus.

He shrugs, casual as ever. “I’m your boyfriend now. It’s in the job description. Monitor the lunar cycle. Prepare for the blood tide. Arm myself with chocolate, carbs, and, apparently, advanced knowledge of feminine hygiene.”

My bottom lip wobbles like a toddler who just dropped her ice cream. 

“Are you crying?” he asks, horrified.

“I don’t know!” I sob, clutching the tampon box to my chest like it’s the Ark of the Covenant. “This is either the creepiest thing you’ve ever done or the most beautiful!”

He spreads his arms wide in that classic, smug hug-the-hero pose. “Come on. Bring it in. Hug your weirdly prepared boyfriend who has read the leaflet inside a pad box and lived to tell the tale.”

I lunge at him like a deranged, snotty koala on a mission. He catches me easily, wrapping his arms around me with the gentle certainty of a man who’s already accepted his fate as a period support unit. He doesn’t even flinch when my towel shifts and I probably bleed on his shirt.

He strokes my back. “You’re okay.”

“I am not okay,” I wail. “I’m in the pre-cramp phase. I can feel them coming. Like satanic elves warming up for a CrossFit class inside my uterus.”

He pulls back just far enough to rummage in the cabinet again. “I meant to grab your painkillers.” He throws his head back dramatically. “I was so close to being the perfect period boyfriend. I had the snacks. I had the supplies.”

I sniffle into his shirt. “I’m going to marry you. Not now. But someday. Maybe during a hormonal spike.”

He pauses. “…Will I have to share a bathroom with you forever? Because—pip-squeak—I have seen things today. Things that have scarred me. Things involving socks and microfiber.”

I smack his chest, mostly for effect. He just grins, kisses the top of my head, and peels away from me with the solemn purpose of a knight on a holy quest.

“I’m goin’ out to get the good painkillers,” he declares. “The ones with the green cap and the label that sounds like a spell. Do you want anything else? Chocolate? Cheese buns? A personal flamethrower for your uterus?”

I lift a limp hand from my towel cocoon. “Maybe… a box of those double chocolate cookies with the fudge inside. And a Coke. And chips. Ketchup.”

“Knew you’d say that,” he grins, already summoning his jacket and wallet with his Evol. They fly across the room and slap into his hands with lethal force. He nods once, grave as a man heading into battle. “If I die in the feminine hygiene aisle… tell the pharmacist I fought bravely.”

He’s out the door like I just yelled, “There’s a clearance sale on engine parts.” I blink at the empty space he once occupied and groan like a wounded animal, dragging myself upright.

The doorframe becomes my cane. My thighs feel like they’re made of stone. My lower back? Humming like an angry wasp trapped in a metal drum, sending out distress signals that scream, Regret is nigh.

I manage to clean myself up like a tragic battlefield medic, then start stripping the bed, cursing under my breath at the literal bloodbath left behind. Halfway through wrestling the fresh fitted sheet onto the bed, disaster strikes.

The first cramp hits. I freeze, blink, and collapse onto the mattress like I’ve just been assassinated by an invisible sniper targeting my uterus for sport. The pain coils through me like Satan is wringing out my insides like a dish towel.

The sheets fall from my arms. I curl up like an overcooked shrimp, moaning into the mattress. “Why… do I have a uterus…? Whose idea was this? Who gave me organs?”

I have no idea how long I lie there, contemplating the sheer indignity of it all. Time loses meaning. I might’ve been there for ten minutes. I might’ve aged a decade. Hard to say. I hear the click of the front door. Caleb’s back already? That was record time.

My brain immediately conjures the most likely scenario: Caleb, storming into the store with righteous determination and a basket, using The Voice. Not his regular voice—no, Colonel Caleb Voice™. The one that makes grown soldiers stand up straighter and children drop their lollipops.

I imagine him dramatically sidestepping a line of confused civilians like a man on a mission, barking, “Fleet business. Critical. Step aside. We’ve got a Code Red.”

Snacks flying. Store clerks cowering. Someone saluting for no reason. Children whispering legends of a man who once bought five types of cookies with the intensity of a war general.

Okay, full honesty? I hate that voice when we’re at Fleet HQ. But there’s…something about it. The way people scatter when he walks in. The sheer dominance in his stride. The fact that if he points at someone and says move, they move.

It’s objectively annoying. Also, unreasonably hot. Ten-out-of-ten, would straddle him in the war room and make him forget his clearance code.

“Inara?” Caleb’s voice, soft and tentative at first, then sharper when he doesn’t immediately spot my crumpled form. “Where—ah.”

He finds me starfished pathetically on the bed, eyes glazed, limbs locked in fetal formation.

“Oh, pip-squeak…” His whole voice changes. He sounds like a prince who’s stumbled upon his damsel in distress—if the damsel was bloated, furious, and lightly sweating.

He crouches beside me, brushing sweaty strands of hair from my forehead. “Can you turn around for me?”

I groan like I’m being asked to lift a car. My movements are glacial. Snail-like. Heroic, honestly. But I manage to uncurl myself with the elegance of a sloth with a pulled muscle.

Caleb situates a heating pad under the waistband of my pants and adjusts it like it’s a precious relic, carefully, reverently, then presses it over my stomach.

Sweet merciful heavens, it’s instant bliss. I gasp. Tears spring to my eyes.

He hands me a glass of water and two painkillers like I’m a wounded woodland creature that might bite. “Here. Got the ones with the green cap. And I brought Coke, cookies, chips… and ketchup. You know. For… morale.”

I blink up at him like he’s descended from the heavens in sweatpants and pilot boots. “You’re the best,” I croak. “Like, obnoxiously so. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m just tryin’ to outdo your uterus,” he smirks, easing me back down onto the bed like I’m made of glass and hormones. “Not an easy opponent. She fights dirty.”

He brushes a kiss to my temple. “Rest. I’ll finish the bed. Then we’re watchin’ the dumbest show TV has to offer while you eat enough sodium to kill a small horse. That’s an order.”

Once he has finished cleaning up my mess, he strolls back into the room, takes one look at my fetal shrimp formation, and gives me the kind of soft smile that could melt steel. He sits beside me and starts rubbing my back like he’s trying to lull a feral cat into trusting humans again.

“How’re you doin’, pip-squeak?”

I lift a shaky thumbs-up like I’ve survived a plane crash. “Still alive. Mostly. Your heating pad is a miracle. You should get a medal.”

“You remember when we were kids and you used to get sick? We’d steal every pillow in the house and build that ridiculous little fort in the living room. Sheets hanging from chairs. Chips hidden like we were squirrels. TV marathons ‘til we passed out.”

A slow, nostalgic smile curls on my lips. “Of course I remember. You always insisted on being the fort ‘commander.’ You even made me salute.”

He smirks. “Chain of command is sacred. Someone had to lead the resistance against… flu symptoms and adult supervision.”

I snort. “You tripped over your own cape and dive-bombed the juice boxes.”

“That was a tactical retreat,” he concludes with mock dignity. “And a brilliant one. Confused the enemy.”

His expression softens again, warm and just a little mischievous. “Want to do it again? I can drag the spare mattress out, build Fort Nostalgia, deluxe edition. Blankets, snacks—real battle station energy.”

My eyes round. “Yes. Oh my god, yes. That sounds like heaven.” Just as he starts to stand, I snag his wrist with exaggerated flair and bat my lashes like a princess about to request a small crime. “Wait. Can I do it? With your Evol?”

He squints at me like I’ve just asked to borrow his liver. “You want to use my Evol? To move a mattress?”

I nod with the wide-eyed innocence of someone who absolutely should not be trusted with powers that bend the laws of physics. “Please? It’ll be fun! I promise I won’t destroy anything!”

Caleb stares at me in silence. “You do remember the last time I let you use my Evol, right? You tried to ‘gently levitate’ the couch and instead launched it through Gran’s drywall like it was a battering ram.”

“That was years ago,” I retaliate with great offence. “And only because you never let me practice.”

“That’s because you launched furniture at heirlooms, Inara. Her antique plate collection had to be picked out of the ficus.”

“That was gravity’s fault,” I sniff. “Also, technically, your Evol. I just directed it. Badly.”

He drags a hand down his face like a man trying to erase the memory of broken porcelain and family shame. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

I beam. “So that’s a yes?”

He stares at the ceiling, possibly praying, sighs, arms flopping like he’s accepting a doomed mission. “Fine. The risk is worth the nostalgia.”

“Yes!” I fist-pump weakly from my side of the bed, victorious in a way only the truly dramatic can be. “Prepare for fort magic.”

“Please do not destroy the house,” he mutters as he heads off to move breakables, mentally rearranging the room like it’s an incoming war zone.

Honestly, his faith in me is wildly low for someone who once ate a crayon because I told him it would make his tongue purple forever. But I’m about to get a full cuddle fort, complete with gravity manipulation and deluxe snacks, courtesy of the best boyfriend-slash-long-suffering Evol instructor in the galaxy.

“Alright, come here, troublemaker,” he grumbles, swooping down and scooping me up bridal-style like it’s just another Tuesday.

I squeak. “Okay, rude. I’m extremely capable.”

“You’re extremely bleeding and shaped like a crescent roll. Let me carry you before you fold yourself into a tortilla.”

He strides us toward the spare room, and I feel the hum of his Evol beneath my palm, vibrating through his chest like a second heartbeat. It’s that eerie, quiet kind of power, like standing on the edge of a black hole with full trust fall energy.

“I’m going to resonate with you,” I whisper, already syncing with his Evol without waiting.

“Obviously,” he replies like a man who has accepted his fate. “I’ve already made peace with the fact I’m going to die in this house. Possibly crushed under a floating snack shelf.”

“Shut up. This is going to be fucking majestic.”

The moment I fully sync with him, it hits me like I’ve just been launched into low Earth orbit with zero training and a bag of chips. Every object in the room has a presence, a glowing, pulsing, “move me, chosen one,” kind of aura in my mind’s eye.

The mattress? Oh, the mattress is practically singing to me. Radiating potential. Whispering sweet nothings like, “Launch me, goddess of gravity.”

I turn to Caleb, eyes wild with power and mattress lust. “The mattress,” I breathe. “She’s ready.”

“Okay,” he begins, clearly regretting everything that has led us to this exact moment. “Let’s maybe just slide it gently—”

It’s too late. I am the mattress now. We are a singular being of foam, springs, and unearned confidence.

“No—wait—lift from the centre—!”

…Oops.

The mattress doesn’t just move. It yeets sideways like it’s trying to escape a haunted house, slamming directly into the bookshelf. Books explode into the air like startled pigeons, flapping through the chaos of their new airborne lifestyle. A picture frame bounces off the wall and does a dramatic spin before hitting the ground in defeat.

Caleb yelps like a man betrayed and immediately wrests back control of his Evol before I can accidentally level the rest of the spare bedroom.

“CENTRE. OF. MASS,” he bites out, trying and failing to sound stern while choking on laughter. A lampshade is still spinning on its side like a dying Beyblade.

“I panicked!” I cry, hands still dramatically aloft like I’m summoning ancient forces. “Why did it go left?!”

“Because you yanked it like a toddler having a meltdown in a toy aisle!”

Caleb carefully puts me down, then steps behind me with the wariness of a man defusing a bomb. His hands slide over mine, steady and sure.

“Okay. Try again,” he encourages, cheek brushing mine, his voice soft like spring rain and emotional damage. “Breathe. Feel it settle. Don’t yank. Coax it.”

“Coax it?” I mutter, side-eyeing him. “You want me to seduce the mattress?”

“If it keeps it from launchin’ into the kitchen, then yes.”

I breathe in slowly, tuning in, fingers twitching with intent. The mattress gives a faint shiver, hovering mid-air like it’s about to be recruited by NASA.

Caleb murmurs near my ear, “There you go. That’s my terrifyin’ space goddess.”

I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “You’re just saying that so I don’t fling it at your face next.”

“Correct.”

We guide it slowly into the living room, side-stepping the crime scene that was once a bookshelf. The mattress lands with a soft fwump in front of the TV. Caleb helps me tuck blankets around the edges like it’s an art installation, piles pillows with the solemnity of a man performing ancient rites, and hurls snacks into a bowl like a five-star chaos chef.

The room looks like a tornado passed through and then decided to stay for movie night. It’s perfect. When we finally collapse into our newly crafted fort, I’m sweaty, still crampy, and emotionally unbalanced, but also grinning like a maniac.

We settle, limbs tangled, snacks close, blankets pulled up to our ears like we’re preparing to weather a romantic storm. Caleb presses a kiss to the crown of my head before handing me the remote like I’m the queen of this ridiculous castle.

“Your Highness,” he purrs solemnly. “Choose our poison.”

I scroll for about two seconds before landing on Love Detour: Second Chances. The premise? Absolute garbage fire. Couples who have broken up in spectacularly messy fashion agree to go on a cross-country road trip together in a glorified tin can, aka a camper van, to see if they can “rekindle their connection.”

Caleb squints at the screen like it just personally insulted his intelligence. “Okay, wait. What is this?”

“It’s about emotional terrorism,” I inform him, deadpan. “And also, trying to find love again while being trapped in close quarters with someone who ruined your life.”

He groans. “No. No, Inara, please. I cannot withstand this level of stupidity.”

“You say that now,” I sing, waggling the remote at him like it’s a loaded weapon, “but just you wait.”

Five episodes later, Caleb is captivated. “Okay, hold on,” he says, sitting bolt upright. “The guy with the man bun—Brandon, right?—he cheated on her twice but now wants to get back together because he ‘misses her energy’? What does that even mean?!”

“It means he’s delusional,” I reply, shovelling popcorn into my face like I’m watching the fall of Rome.

“And why is Alyssa still here?! She literally said—and I quote—‘I feel dead inside when he talks.’ That’s not love; that’s a warning from your nervous system!”

“Because she has main character syndrome,” I explain patiently, “and she’s holding out for a spin-off.”

He sighs, hand over his heart like he’s just lost a battle he never meant to fight. “I hate that you’ve sucked me into this.”

“No, you don’t,” I smirk, licking salt off my fingers. “You love it.”

“I hate how much I do love it,” he mutters, eyes still glued to the screen.

By the time episode eight starts, Caleb’s whisper-screaming commentary is more entertaining than the show itself. We lie there like that for hours with Caleb emotionally compromised by a man named Zayden with neck tattoos, me basking in my trash TV supremacy, both of us warm and buried under blankets in the coziest little disaster fort this side of the galaxy.

Caleb turns to me with the slow blink of a man who has lost faith in humanity but somehow can’t look away. “This is brain poison.”

“Correct, but it’s delicious brain poison. Don’t think I didn’t see you flinch when Brandon said, ‘I’ve changed.”

“I wanted to launch him into the sun,” He grumbles, muffled by the blanket. “He has a podcast, Inara. A podcast where he talks about crypto and ‘emotional maturity.”

“Oh god.” I clutch my imaginary pearls. “We have to take him out.”

Caleb turns his head slowly to look at me, one brow raised. “Colonel Caleb will not rest until justice is served.”

There it is. That stupidly commanding, bossy, Fleet-issue tone that shoots directly into my spinal cord like it’s got clearance to override my nervous system.

I blink at him. “Say that again.”

“What?”

“The way you just said it. ‘Colonel Caleb will not rest.’ God, that voice.”

He frowns like he doesn’t quite follow. “You mean my regular voice?”

“No, no. The voice you use when you’re yelling at rookie pilots. When you’re reading comms reports and doing that thing where you flex your jaw like you’re about to arrest someone with your disappointment alone.”

His eyebrows slowly ascend into the stratosphere. “You’re not… into that voice, are you?”

My head snaps toward him so fast my neck cracks. “Into it? Caleb. I would burn down a civilian outpost just to hear you recite emergency evac protocols in that voice. I would commit war crimes for it.”

Caleb groans and covers his face. “You are unwell.”

“Say something fleety,” I beg, grabbing his arm and shaking it. “Please. Just give me, like, one standard flight command.”

“I am not doin’ this,” he laughs, trying to roll away.

“Sir,” I bark in my best impression of a fleet cadet. “Requesting command input, sir.”

He squints at me, exhales in the most put-upon way imaginable, sits up straighter, and—

“Cadet Inara, execute evasive manoeuvre delta-7. Recalibrate inertial dampeners and prepare for atmospheric breach. You have fifteen seconds. Do not make me repeat myself.”

My soul leaves my body. This is like foreplay for people with a voice kink.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, fanning myself. “That was so hot, I need a tactical cold compress.”

Caleb looks entirely betrayed by his own power. “You are the worst.”

“Say ‘negative, commander’ next,” I demand, poking his side. “Like you’re scolding someone who’s being cocky in a briefing.”

“Negative, Commander.”

I practically melt into the mattress. There’s a pause. He stares at me. I stare back, wild-eyed and panting like a Victorian-era man seeing an exposed ankle. He gives me a long, considering look.

“…What?” I ask, instantly suspicious.

A slow, wicked grin pulls across his face. “So, you like the Colonel voice, huh?”

Oh no. I’ve fucked up and exposed my weakness. Mistakes have been made.

“I say a lot of things when I’m dehydrated and emotionally compromised,” I argue, which is a lie, and we both know it.

He leans in, dropping his voice to a rich, authoritative murmur that’s somehow louder than a shout. “Cadet Inara, stand by for further instruction.”

My soul actually leaves my body this time. Just exits through the roof. Gone. Goodbye. “Okay,” I breathe, white-knuckling the popcorn bowl. “That’s unfair.”

“Oh, is it?” he asks innocently, lounging back against the pillows like a man who’s just discovered the launch codes to my entire brain. “Initiate primary thruster sequence and prepare for acceleration.”

“Stop it,” I hiss, clutching my face like it’ll keep my blush from leaking out.

“Maintain current trajectory. Target locked.”

“I could file a formal complaint,” I warn, pointing a finger at him. “Abuse of command tone. Emotional sabotage. Weaponized discipline kink.”

He shrugs. “Standard protocol for a level-seven flirtation scenario.”

“Oh my stars,” I groan, falling sideways into the pillows.

He rolls with me, arms sneaking around my waist as he whispers into my ear, “Initiating close-range docking protocol.”

I involuntarily make a noise like some kind of startled rodent. He grins into my shoulder, smug, evil, and warm as a sunflare.

“Caleb,” I whisper, “you’re going to die for this.”

“Permission granted, Commander. Death by cuddles imminent.”

Now he’s holding me hostage, wrapped around me like a living weighted blanket, still whispering half-serious fleet jargon like it’s dirty talk while I attempt not to astral project straight onto his cock. I should push him off. I should fight back. I should absolutely not be melting into his arms like butter on a fusion coil, but here we are.

Buried in a nostalgia fort, under three blankets and one deeply swellheaded space pilot, whispering flight commands into my ear like he’s trying to make me come.

Honestly? Peak romance. 

Chapter Masterlist

A03 - Note: Not all chapters are available there yet because I haven't had the time to copy them all over. Soooo.... this is an incredibly self induglent chapter, and now I really want to build a fort. 😅

[delicatebarness]

bring him home | chapter five

Summary: After almost two years, you find yourself back in Wakanda.

Warning: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Mentions of Grief and Loss. Violence. Mental Health Themes. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1700

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A/N: My heart breaks itself. I swear. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Bring Him Home: @vampirethingz | @whiminiferous | @armystay89 | @bucky-just-needs-love | @esposadomd | @motylekrozi | @erica2024 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @mostlymarvelgirl | @ordelixx |

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

Six months had passed since the support groups had been established and continued to flourish, they provided solace and strength to make who had been lost in their grief. Every meeting you attended, and every story shared was a step toward healing. Not just for them, but for you as well.

The more you share with the other victims, the more you feel a pull– a need to return to the place where so much had changed. Wakanda. With trepidation and determination, you boarded a Quinjet, the familiar hum of its engines filled the air as it took off. For the first time since the Snap, you flew back to find peace for yourself.

Arriving in Wakand, you were greeted with warmth by the Dora Milaje and the people who remembered you and Bucky, as well as the Avengers’ sacrifices. Okoyoe herself welcomed you, her presence a comforting reminder of the strength and resilience of the Wakandan people. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Okoyoe said, her voice calm and reassuring. “Wakanda has missed you.” 

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Thank you, Okoyoe. It’s good to be back.” 

Walking through the vibrant streets of Wakanda, memories of your time on the run flooded your mind. The scars of Thanos’ attack were still visible, yet the landscape had recovered. Your destination, however, was a secluded hut on the outskirts of the city, the place where Bucky found solace and freedom before he disappeared. 

Standing untouched, the hut was a silent testament to Bucky’s time there. Creaking softly, you pushed the door open, stepping inside. Dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight as the air stayed still. After almost two years, you could almost feel his presence again– as if he had just stepped out and would return any moment. 

You took in every detail as you moved carefully through the small space. His belongings were still there– a few worn journals, a simple wooden carving of a wolf, and Polaroid photos. You ran your fingers over the carving, tears welling in the corner of your eyes as a sense of connection and longing overwhelmed you. 

As night fell, you sat by a window, glancing out at the Wakandan landscape. Looking up, the stars above you were bright, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the small place you held within it. 

You reached for one of Bucky’s leather-bound journals, feeling a pull toward its familiar texture. As you read his raw emotions and thoughts, the events he recounted stirred a deep sense of recognition within you. 

Washington D.C. 2014

-

A buzzing on your nightstand jolted you from your restless sleep. Groggily, you reached for it, squinting at the unknown number flashing on the screen. Rolling your eyes, you answered with a tired voice. “Hello?” 

“It’s me,” Natasha’s familiar voice, came through low and urgent. 

“Nat?” you sat up, immediately more alert. “Why are you using an unknown number?” 

“No time to explain,” she said, her tone clipped. “I need you in Washington, like yesterday.” 

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. “I can’t, Nat. I–” 

“This isn’t optional,” she interrupted, her voice hardening. “This is serious.” 

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to gauge the gravity of the situation. 

“It’s him,” she said, her words heavy with implication. 

Your heart skipped a beat. The mere thought of The Winter Soldier brought back a flood of memories– painful, complicated memories. Pushing aside your initial reluctance, you took a deep breath. 

“Alright,” you said, your voice steady as you rose from your bed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

The feeling of unease couldn’t be shaken as you flew to Washington, anxiety and anticipation blurred your mind. The Winter Soldier was a lingering shadow that shaped your life, he was more than a ghost from your past. 

Natasha’s eyes scanned the surroundings with practiced vigilance as she waited in a small cafe. Before ushering you to a secluded corner, she pulled you into a brief, tight hug. 

“Glad you made it,” she said.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, your eyes scanning the small cafe. “Where is he?” Natasha proceeded, giving you a brief rundown of the situation and what they were dealing with. 

~

Within a couple of hours, Steve and Natasha introduced you to Sam Wilson. They assured you that he could be trusted, but you couldn’t help but feel skeptical. The plan was to abduct Jasper Sitwell, with Sam handling the talking and you on standby ready to fire if necessary. 

“And why would I do that?” Jasper Sitwell’s voice crackled through your comms. As if on cue, you readied your gun, aiming its red laser at the man.

“Because that tie looks really expensive, and I’d hate to mess it up.” Sam retorted, Sitwell glanced down, spotting the small red dot on his tie. 

~

From a vantage point, you watched in disbelief in the car behind. It was true; he was here. Soldat landed on the roof of the car carrying Natasha, Steve, Sam, and Sitwell. He yanked Sitwell out through the window with brutal efficiency, hurling him into oncoming traffic. 

You tried to shoot while driving, struggling to maintain control as you watched him open fire on your sister and friends. Suddenly, someone slammed the brakes, causing Soldat to drop onto the road.

Chaos ensured. Colliding with their car, another vehicle pushed them dangerously closer to the assassin. Soldat leaped back on top, smashing through the windshield and ripping out the steering wheel before jumping onto the following vehicle. 

As the car door broke off, you saw Steve clinging to Natasha and Sam as they began to slide across the highway. Soldat and the HYDRA agents unleashed a hail of bullets at them.

You stopped your car along with the rest of the panicked traffic, getting out and ducking for cover. When you were clear, you scattered along with the trio, running off in different directions. At first, he was shooting at Natasha but she managed to shoot him in his eye goggle mask and run off. 

And that was when he noticed you. 

For a moment, the two of you locked eyes, and the chaos around you seemed to fade. His piercing gaze held you, and you could have sworn there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. A brief, split second where the ruthless assassin appeared to hesitate. In that heartbeat, you saw the man he used to be, the one buried deep.

Suddenly, he fired his weapon. You closed your eyes for a moment, it seemed like the shot was aimed at you, but it whizzed past, striking Natasha in the shoulder just as she was making her way toward you. She cried out and fell to the ground. 

“Nat!” you shouted, rushing to her side. Soldat closed in behind you, ready to fire again. Anger boiled within you as you sprang to your feet, delivering a swift powerful kick that sent him staggering back. 

“Remember me!” you yelled, trying to break through the haze of his conditioning. “It’s me, remember!” 

He didn’t respond, lunging at you with a cold and unyielding expression. Swinging his metal arm in a powerful arc. You ducked and the force of the blow whistled past your ear. Countering with a quick jab to his ribs, he barely flinched and retaliated with a series of rapid punches that you struggled to deflect.

“You know me,” you pleased between strikes, desperation edging into your voice. “You taught me, all of this.” 

He hesitated for the briefest moment, confusion flickering in his eyes. Yet, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Driving his knee into your stomach, he knocked the wind out of you and sent you sprawling to the ground. Gasping for breath, you rolled aside, avoid his follow-up stomp. 

Scrambling to your feet, you launched yourself at him with determination. He roared in frustration, grabbing you by the throat. The cold metal grip tightened, cutting off your air and lifting you off the ground. Your hands clawed at his arm in a desperate attempt to free yourself, your legs trying to kick out. 

“Soldat, please!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

Before he could react, Steve burst onto the scene. With a powerful kick, he knocked Soldat away from you and sent him sprawling to the ground. As they fought, Steve managed to catch Soldat’s metal arm mid-swing and twisted, using his own momentum to throw him across the debris-strewn street. Soldat crashed to the ground, his mask dislodging in the process, revealing the face Steve less expected to see. 

Freezing, he lowered his shield. He started at the man who had once been his closest friend. Recognition dawned in Steve’s eyes, shock, sadness, and determination mixed. 

“Bucky…?” Steve asked in confusion, his voice both filled with disbelief and hope. 

-

Tears welled in your eyes as you relived a pivotal moment through Bucky’s perspective. As you read through the pages, you traced the lines. His words painted a picture of internal struggle, grappling with memories and emotions buried deep within his fractured mind. It was then you realized that Bucky had indeed recognized you that day. Guilt and anguish coursing through him from his actions. 

Outside, the Wakandan night settled. Closing the journal, you held it close to your chest. You allied yourself to grieve for the lost time, but also cherish the gratitude that even in the worst of times, he was still, always in there.

With a steady breath, you set the journal aside and took in the stillness of the hut. A mixture of leather, wood, and a hint of something indefinable that was distinctly him– the air was imbued with a faint scent that was uniquely Bucky. It enveloped you like a comforting embrace, soothing the rough edges of your heartache. 

Untouched since that morning, the bed still held his essence. You lay down, allowing yourself to sink into the familiar scent, bringing you peace and belonging. It was the first time that sleep came easily. The weight of grief and relentless striving for closure seemed to lift as you closed your eyes. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

end of the line

Summary: Bucky Barnes has settled down with you only to have demons from his past resurface.

Warnings : kinda fluffy, mentions of torture and abuse ***potential TFTWS SPOILERS ****

The stale stench of last night’s cigarettes still looming as the sun danced against the yellow wallpaper of the cozy bedroom.

The young brunette sighed softly, reluctantly accepting the fact that she would not be going back to sleep. Your arm stretching out to find the empty space beside her... your brow furrows as you peeked through heavy lashes. Empty— well, mostly empty except for a soft white kitten absorbing the warmth of the morning sun.

“Barnes…?” You called out, the sleep thick in her voice, as you rubbed your eyes. The kitten stirring gently as he let out a soft meow. It wasn’t like James to be up before you, much less out of bed and without Alpine. There was no answer. The house felt painfully still. With a soft groan, you push yourself up, sliding from the warmth of the satin sheets to meet the cool touch of the hardwood floors. Something is off, though. You can’t quite put your finger on it. You take your time, walking down the hall, your finger running along the wall. As you approach the kitchen, the smell of coffee all but consumes you… so he was home— or he had been home long enough to start the brew. You glance around the counters and the fridge— no notes.

“Buck—“ you call out again, taking the sweatshirt he’d hung over a chair the night before and pulling it over your head. It’s at this moment, you notice the plush white cat making a b-line to the barely open front door. Without hesitation, you practically sprint, scooping the little monster up before he can step outside. It’s then you see him, your husband. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, The White Wolf himself sitting on the porch, his grandpa like flip phone pressed to his ear and jaw clenched. You don’t say anything, just observe. He’s deep in thought, or maybe it’s frustration?

You don’t know how much time passes, but after a while, you clear your throat, finally alerting him of your presence. His eyes flick up to meet you, the side of your head lazily propped against the door frame, a sleeping kitten tucked in your arms. His visage only momentarily softens as he sighs deeply.

“I’ll let you know,” he mutters, slamming the phone shut before the other person can argue.

“Where’s the fire, sarge…?” You ask, trying to break his tension. He only shrugs, slowly getting to his feet. His brow still furrowed as he slides his phone into his pocket. “It’s nothing you need to worry about...”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Right, might wanna tell your face that, love.” You reach out, carefully taking his stubbly cheek in your palm, “Who was it…?”

Maybe it’s the playful jab or perhaps the gentle touch, but the soldier immediately softens. “Did I leave the door open…?” He’s glancing down at the bundle of fur purring in your free arm.

“Yes. Yes, you did. Now James Buchanan Barnes, what the hell is going on.”

“Another name— it was the state department with another name. Three of them actually” his head falls in shame, and you immediately stiffen. He didn’t like to talk about his list. You knew about his past. Knew the nightmares that consumed him and had spent many a long night holding him, comforting him as best you could.

“Oh— um… I’m sorry.” You blurt out, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone in an attempt to comfort him. Each name brought a new flashback, a new memory he had to relieve, and you absolutely hated seeing him crumble. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside… remake your coffee. It’s probably cold now.” You say gingerly, leaning up on tiptoe to his forehead before slipping inside. It takes a minute but sure enough, he follows, sinking down in his chair by the unlit fireplace. He’s thinking, no— he’s torturing himself just like you’ve seen him do a million times before.

When the coffee finishes, you fill a mug and sink down beside him, resting on your knee, your chin resting against his knee. He doesn’t move. He’s as still as a statue. “Bucky Barnes, what am I gonna do with you…” it’s barely a whisper, just for the two of you. “Why do you stay…” Bucky grumbles through a clenched jaw, his eyes beginning to water. “You know who I am and everything I’ve done and you—“

“And I love you.” You cut him off, your head cocked gently to one side. “I married you knowing exactly who You were. You were a man— no, a kid who was drafted into the military. You didn’t choose that life. You were a good friend who did everything he could to protect his best friend to the end of the line. You were abused and manipulated… until you weren’t you.” You pause, watching as his eyes fall shut, nails digging into the arms of his chair. “I know they had you do unspeakable things, and I know you were not in control. I know that that’s not on you, Buck. I know that when it mattered, you saved Steve, even if you didn’t know who he was. I know you’ve fought and continue to fight to find the pieces of memory that they stole from you… I know that you’re strong and one of the greatest men I’ve ever known. You are just as much a victim of hydra… as every person on that list… and I know we’ll get through this, one day at a time. I’m with you to the end of the line.” Those last words fall from your lips before you can stop them. To your relief, Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.

“End of the line, doll?”

“End of the line, sarge.”

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 1 of 2

SPOILER ALERT.

It's probably just the alcohol, but the beats of the music are starting to sound a little bit like a marching drum that's announcing war. She can feel herself dancing along to it, but her whole body is on alert, ready to switch to fight and flight any second.

"So, cool place huh?" The bloke in the leather jacket asks.

She tries to remember his name. Jeff something. Or maybe Jed. No, not Jed, she's thinking of Star Wars again. That's what happens when you binge watch a multiverse of movies in a single day.

Oh, yeah, that's right. She broke the multiverse.

Another shot of tequila, and she takes not-Jed's hand in hers. It doesn't feel right, at least not the way-

No.

She realises he asked her a question, but she can't remember what, and she just laughs, because that always works.

Encouraged, he leans in close and whispers into her ears. "How about we get out of here?"

"And go where, exactly?" She asks, but she's not sure he understands, not with how slurred the words come out.

She laughs again, and this time, it's bitter. This time, she's laughing at how this is so him, this getting drunk in the face of imminent danger and making a mess of things.

(But I'm not you.)

---

She's frozen in her place the second the glowing yellow door appears. But it's not for her, at least not this time.

She hasn't been on the run for a while. Doesn't need to be. Because even though she is the one who unleashed the chaos, it's the chaos that needs to be contained immediately. She's low on the list of priorities.

The TVA will come for her. But not right now.

---

It's extremely easy pretending to be a psychic. All she has to do is take her client's hands and enchant him, find a memory, describe it back to him.

Sometimes she does it just for fun, just to see the look of amazement on their faces.

Other times, she does it for the money she needs to survive.

"And I see a blonde woman. Very beautiful."

"That's my wife."

The way he smiles, loving and proud, makes her heart drop.

"What do you see in her future? Is she happy? Does she get the job at the magazine?"

There is definitely at least one timeline where she does get the job, but The Enchantress cannot exactly tell if it's this one. She can't actually see the future, after all.

She sees the colors drain from his face as her silence swallows the room. "She's going to be okay, right? I just want her to be okay."

(I just want you to be okay.)

There's that bitter laugh again, because-

No. She can't do this right now.

"She loves you very much", she whispers, to the man in front of her, and to the man who is not there to hear those words.

---

Mobius finds her in the middle of a concert by a Nirvana where Kurt Cobain never died. She can easily slip away, disappear into the screaming, writhing crowd if she wants.

Or she can just take him some place quiet and hear him out.

"Help us", Mobius pleads. He sounds exhausted, and not just physically. "We're outnumbered and outwitted. Our world is in danger."

"This isn't my world", she reminds him.

"Yet, you're here", he retorts.

Her smile is pained. "Where else will I go?"

He is sympathetic, like he always has been. And he offers her a new glorious purpose. "Come with me. We need you. He needs you."

She feels the air find its way out of her lungs the same way she pushed him out of her life- painfully, forcefully. "H-how is he?"

"He's okay... all things considered."

Now there's a cocktail of relief and disappointment that will give her months of sleepless nights.

"Tell him I'm-" she starts, but she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. What can she tell him? That she's sorry for not trusting him when she should have? That she's sorry for making the universes collide?

That she's sorry for betraying him and breaking his heart?

(How will I know you won't betray me at the end?)

"Nevermind."

---

It's been really hard facing the consequences of her actions, watching the timelines bleed into each other and destroy people's lives- families torn, achievements gone, every little anomaly delving into death and destruction. Every headline on the newspaper is her fault, and she has to live with that.

But that seems so easy compared to this moment where she has to face him.

The plan was to send him away, kill He Who Remains, give people their free will back, save the world, then come back to him. Yeah, he'd be mad at her at first, sure, but he'd forgive her eventually, she was confident.

Then the timelines started to branch the minute she stuck the dagger in that terrifying man's chest, and she knew she had screwed up.

She had sunk to the ground in defeat as the realisation of the repercussions hit her, and she did what she has always done- run.

She didn't even realise she had sent him to the wrong universe until she teleported herself into another universe as well. The journey back was long and lonely, but she dreamt of him in colors while the world was bleeding red, and that was enough to keep her going.

She doesn't really know what she'll do when she sees him again. Neither does she know what reaction she expects from him. Nothing he can say to her can be worse than what she thinks of herself.

A part of her hopes he would be overwhelmingly happy, he would come running to her, just like he did at The Void, greet her with the smile that has won a hundred hearts- including hers, and tell her everything will be alright. Another part of her fears that he would be furious, and he would confront her with accusations of unleashing havoc on all worlds- especially his.

What she never expected is this eerie calm that makes her feel like she is standing in the storm center.

His walls are up.

And it causes her to redirect the anger she feels at herself towards him. There's venom in her voice. "So you do get to rule, after all."

"I don't feel much like a king." He shrugs. "I'm more of a multiversal janitor. Mopping up multiversal messes."

"My messes."

"Our messes." He corrects, his features softening around the edges. "We made a mistake." He has been saying that ever since he found himself in the alternate TVA, and that hasn't changed even after getting back to his own version of the bureau. Always "we", never "she". He simply cannot bring himself to blame her without taking accountability for his part in the mess.

"Don't patronize me." Her hands are shaking, just like her voice, a sharp contrast to his steady silhouette, and can he just hold her, please? "I don't need you to take the fall for me."

His eyes go cold, like they were forged in the heart of Jotunheim. "Of course not", he says, fully composed. "You don't need me for anything. It's not like we're in this together."

(Maybe we can figure it out-together.)

---

She now knows her walls don't- can't- keep the hurt out- it just keeps her locked inside this cage of distrust and insecurities. And the price she has to pay for it is too high.

They could have been lying on a beach somewhere, sipping mimosas right now. Instead, they're here, in the vast, silent library of the TVA, sitting on separate tables, reading files on variants.

The only thing worse than bearing the weight of his gaze is having him stare at his files without looking in her direction even once. She can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly blurts out.

He looks up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry for what I did." She repeats. It's difficult to start an apology, but once she finds the strength to begin, the rest of it flows automatically. "I'm sorry I messed up everything. I'm sorry I broke the timelines. I'm sorry the world is in danger." She takes in a deep breath. "And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

His smile is the saddest kind. "A Loki betraying a Loki. That's the least surprising thing in the world. What's shocking is how I didn't see it coming. You really had me going with that kiss. Very nice distraction. Very Loki."

Free will comes with the fine-print of living with the consequences of your choices. And she has to live with hers every day. The tears finally spill out of her eyes. She hasn't let herself cry for a long, long time. But now she's breaking down worse than the multiverse. "I didn't do it to distract you. I did it to say goodbye."

He gets up, and she panics that he's leaving. Instead, he sits down in front of her, reaches for her hand, but changes his mind mid-way and lets them fall to his side. "You didn't have to say goodbye."

"It's all I've ever known." She feels like that scared little girl, far from home, running from minute men, with nobody to turn to but herself. "I told you, I don't have anyone."

"You had me."

That's the saddest part of it all, isn't it? Everything else in her life is the TVA's fault. She's torn from Asgard? Hasn't seen her parents in years? Can't remember her brother Thor? Spent her whole childhood running and hiding? All TVA.

But this? This is all her own doing. This is the one time she had something real, something worth holding onto, someone worth fighting against the world for. Instead, she questioned his intentions, didn't hold on, fought him and ruined everything.

"I didn't want to rule, Sylvie", he finally tells her. "I wanted you."

She has dreamed of this moment when he tells her how he feels. They have come so close to it so many times, the words dangling off the edge of his tongue but never quite finding their way out. She has always known- every word, every action pointed to it. But it was so hard to imagine someone could love her.

It's so hard to imagine someone can love her again. The past tense in his wording terrifies her worse than any danger ever could. "Is it too late to fix things?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "We are fixing things. That's why we are here. Saving the universe."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know how to trust you again, Sylvie." He tells her point blank- no deception, no lies, no Loki-ism. "And you never trusted me to begin with."

That's not entirely true. She trusts him more than she has trusted anyone. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know."

(Not to be dramatic, but yeah, we're saving the universe.)

---

The Avengers are much nicer than Loki described them, considering they don't kill her for what she has done, instead tell her about their own journeys towards redemption. Wanda tells her about the man she has loved and lost, and the pain she has caused to an entire town. Barnes talks about his past as a brainwashed assassin. Clint tells her the story of Natasha and how she took charge and changed her life.

Thor is the kindest of them all. He talks about how far Loki himself has come. He tells her stories of his version of Asgard, the nine realms, the glorious battles, the beauty of earth.

She still dreams of death, but sometimes she doesn't.

Sometimes, she hopes.

---

(To be continued)

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 12)

Oof, the long-awaited Christmas Ball arc has finally arrived! Let's get into it!

What does it look like to see Natsume at his most selfish? One needs only to look at Chapter Fifty.

Chapter Forty-Eight

The Christmas Ball is finally here!

Natsume has to begin the ball just like he has to begin the festival, sitting on stage with the other Principal students, as if he’s some kind of representative. When he catches Mikan looking at him, he sticks his tongue out at her, and she’s taken aback and offended, but he’s trying to be cute. When Natsume is around Mikan, they always bicker and argue. She’s someone he can argue with, something he can’t do with most people. He can’t argue with the people in the DA class because he’ll get punished. He can’t argue with Ruka because he already causes him enough stress. With Mikan, none of the arguments are deep. She forgives and forgets easily, and he can act freely act like a little kid. In the last chapter, even, he smiles at her when they’re in the midst of an argument, because just the freedom of being able to bicker makes him happy.

He's trying to be cute, so go easy on him, Mikan.

He sticks his tongue out at her, acting silly and childish, because she’s special and he can act silly and childish around her.

For most of the ball, Natsume is content to sit in the tree, minding his own business and keeping away from the commotion. He does notice Mikan, though, because he always does, when she acts as Trash Santa to help Youichi play with Mr. Bear. He doesn’t say anything, and he’s only present for a couple panels, but it’s obvious she stands out to him.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Natsume is eating a good piece of cake when he meets with Ruka, who is overcome with guilt for kissing Mikan on the cheek a few minutes ago. Ruka knows that Natsume likes Mikan too, but he doesn’t understand that Natsume has jumped that ship before it could even leave the dock. Natsume gets that Ruka is conflicted about something, so he playfully squeezes Ruka’s nose to assure him in his own way. Natsume’s love language is physical touch even if it is awkward, whether it’s ruffling Ruka’s hair or squeezing his nose. That’s how he comforts people, particularly Ruka.

It apparently does make Ruka feel better, because when he next sees Mikan, he doesn’t freak out like she does. He’s calmed down a bit, isn’t quite as guilty. So he does his own version of what Natsume did for him at the alice festival closing dance. He gets Mikan to dance with Natsume. It’s his way of evening the score, giving Natsume the same chance he got. Either he doesn’t understand that Natsume isn’t playing the game at all, or he’s trying to convince him to start.

He walks away and Natsume and Mikan are left standing there without their masks. There’s a moment of awkwardness, where they stand around and don’t say anything, but Natsume has a moment of resolve. He takes her hand and pulls her close. It starts off proper and gentle, like a dance is supposed to be. They dance and Natsume notices that Mikan is not happy to be with him at all. She’s quiet and frowning. He’s seen her smile while dancing before, because she always catches his eye, so he knows she’s capable of it. She’s danced with Ruka, Tsubasa, Narumi, and all sorts of people, and she’s had a big grin on her face for all of it. For some reason, that smile is absent when her partner is Natsume.

Natsume got upset and hurt when Mikan said she would never want to dance the last dance with him. He’s hurt now that she seems so reluctant to dance with him in a zero-stakes dance at the Christmas Ball. He will be hurt in the future too, because he has a low self esteem. This girl that he likes may see him as a friend, but she gets so uneasy around him, and only him. Natsume thinks he cares so much more about her than she does about him, and it’s moments like these where he gets the feeling more than ever, and it hurts. He thinks it’s a given. He’s helped make it happen on purpose. But he still wishes deep down that it wasn’t that way.

He's doing everything right and she's still upset to dance with him! What's her deal? (heheheh)

And so he argues with her. Why isn’t she smiling with him, huh? He’s doing it all right, the way he’s supposed to. He’s dancing normally and she seems to hate it. He turns to insults because it’s his most reliable technique, and suddenly Mikan is energetic.

To avoid making a scene, they bicker and insult each other under their breaths, dancing just the same as they had before, but with a new aura around them. He twirls her and she’s smiling now. And his eyes get soft, because that’s all he wanted. One moment of selfishness for him to keep in his memories, where they danced and she actually liked it.

The moment ends when they get shoved and fall over, Mikan landing with her teeth on Natsume’s lip.

They’re both tense and uncomfortable with what just happened in front of so many people. Natsume hates that he tripped in front of everybody, so his mood has suddenly soured. If this had been a proper kiss, he wouldn’t have gotten so angry, and he won’t, spoiler alert. He was actually having a nice time, only for the moment to be so abruptly stolen from him. He fell down and now his lip is bleeding. Her teeth hitting his mouth also could be the closest he’ll ever get to a kiss with Mikan, and she looks horrified. Being under so many watchful eyes, all nervous about what’s about to happen. He has very few options, really. He can walk away, or he can cause upset. Natsume isn’t in the mood to run away, since he’s already embarrassed himself by tripping, so he tells her that she’s bad at dancing and kissing, even though he obviously very much likes dancing with her.

He is a problem child.

Chapter Fifty

Mikan is enraged that he had the audacity to call what happened a kiss. There’s also the trouble of Ruka, who had been nice and arranged for them to dance in the first place, only for this to happen.

Now it’s Natsume’s turn to feel guilty. It was an accident, of course, but Natsume already messed up by calling it a kiss, so now Ruka is upset. The only thing he can say to comfort his friend is to downplay it, acting as if everyone is making a big deal over nothing.

Don't worry about it, man. It's a whatever situation.

Natsume’s admirers take that as some sort of confirmation that he’s the man, probably going around kissing all the time. This really meant nothing, because it’s just one kiss of many. It’s far from the truth: Natsume has never kissed anybody before. This kiss doesn’t mean anything only because it was an accident.

Natsume escapes. He feels horrible for hurting Ruka, and probably let down that the teeth-kiss is the closest he’ll ever get to the real thing, least of all with Mikan. He stays in his tree, safe and isolated, alone with his thoughts. He has no intention of returning to the party.

In fact, it’s Mikan who finds him, when she climbs up the tree to find someone to comfort her. She’s looking for Tsubasa or Hotaru or Ruka or Iinchou. Not him. She admits that she’s just settling for him (or at least that’s the way it comes off in the TokyoPop version), and not being one of the people she can count on is something that he sadly resigns himself to.

Still, even if she’s only venting to him because there’s nobody else around, he listens to her whole story.

Just like with the Christmas Ball prep, he insults her and it somehow works. The worry leaves her face and she grins.

Forgive me. These scans leave much to be desired. Apologies.

Natsume is a bit preoccupied. He’s had some time to think and he has a lot on his mind, so he reminds her that she was angry at him just a bit ago, reviving her rage. It’s short-lived, though, because then he asks what happened between her and Ruka. Mikan shuts down, then tries to change the subject, mentioning all the gossip about his many kisses, suggesting Natsume talk about himself before demanding to know other people’s business, which leads him to the conclusion that she’d kissed Ruka.

They argue a bit more, but then she insists that the accident before didn’t count as a kiss, so he decides to fix that.

Natsume’s selfish acts are still in the single-digits, but this belongs on the shortest list in the world. Keep in mind that Natsume is convinced that Mikan and Ruka kissed already. They did, but that was a cheek kiss, and not on the same level. He has no idea. They’re arguing, so it won’t seem romantic or mushy at all, especially when compared to whatever Ruka surely did (though he did not do anything at all, in fact) and she won’t get the wrong (right) idea. It seems like a low-consequence move, like something he could do, so that he could have it for the rest of his life and then die with it. He doesn’t dare assume it’ll mean something to her.

He pulls her into a kiss, in any case.

She pushes him away, gasping for breath.

He explains that he did it because she said it wasn’t real before. An easy excuse. Then he muses, “So that’s what kissing is like…” and essentially answers her question from earlier, about all the rumors that he has plenty of experience kissing. He says it’s no big deal and then jumps from the tree.

"Wow! That sucked! Let's do more of this next year!"

To him, it is a big deal.

He says things aren’t a big deal when he wishes he could do them, like competing in the alice festival and now with kissing. Things are a big fuss over nothing when he can’t do them but wants to. Just like the alice festival, this is something he can’t look forward to. This is done, and it’ll probably--definitely--never happen again. Being selfish once is one thing. He wouldn’t do that to Ruka.

Downplaying it is supposed to comfort her. It’s no big deal after all, so she can just move on and keep kissing Ruka, which she probably prefers anyway. It obviously meant a lot to him, since in about a year he’d ask for more and more kisses, but for now, he’s content with one. It’s all he can ask for, and all he needs. Just one kiss, to know what it’s like to kiss the girl he loves. And now he’s done.

His post-kiss behavior is all for her sake, acting casual and blase about it so that she doesn’t catch on that it meant something more to him. “Huh, whatever,” is an easier kiss to get over than a romantic and sappy one, in his mind.

Besides, she’s not like him. It’s not like she’s never kissed somebody before.

Chapter Fifty-One

It’s post-Christmas cleaning day in Class B and the kids are gathering in a circle to tell scary stories on their lunch break. Koko calls Natsume over to make a demon fire for the atmosphere. Ruka and Natsume catch Mikan’s gaze and she runs to avoid them both.

She’s an anxious mess because of the Christmas Ball, unable to look either of them in the eye.

Natsume and Ruka both join the group anyway, and once Mikan is thoroughly spooked, Natsume scares her even more with Yo-chan’s help. It’s not that he wants her to suffer, but he wants to seem as unaffected as possible. See, he’s right back to normal, so there’s nothing to worry about. She doesn’t need to freak out about what happened, because ultimately, nothing happened. It was no big deal, a big fuss over nothing.

Jinno then separates the class into smaller cleaning groups, and Mikan is stuck with Natsume and Ruka. She’s awkward and anxious, Ruka’s embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say, and Natsume’s not the type to talk much anyway.

He isn’t really the kind of person who fixes things, but it’s on him now, because the other two sure as hell won’t. So first he teases Mikan by scaring her. She gets a little upset, so he tells her to quit ignoring Ruka. He makes it about Ruka, because he’s okay being the one ignored. Again, he’s never considered himself in the running for Mikan’s affections. He’s Team Ruka, all the way.

Ruka is touched, and there’s obviously no hard feelings about the accidental kiss at the ball. That doesn’t mean that they’re talking much, or that there’s no tension. They both know that something happened with the other in regards to Mikan, and broaching that topic is uncomfortable. They’ve been letting it sit for so long untouched--months even, since the very start of it all--and it’s only gotten bigger and bigger.

Before they can have an actual conversation, though, the lights go out.

They’re all sitting against the wall, Ruka and Natsume on either side of Mikan.

They’re both aware that Mikan is easily scared and that she’s particularly afraid of the dark, and so they both independently decide to hold her hand in an attempt to comfort her. Natsume remembers how afraid she’d been when they were trapped together in the haunted house, and how all she’d wanted at the time was to hold his hand, because if they’re touching, they’ll be warm and less scared.

Don't overthink it, Mikan. You might figure him out.

For now, it’s not about being selfish, just being helpful, because he wants to reassure her and comfort her. He’s learning ways that he can be comforting to Mikan, that don’t necessarily involve insults and getting her mad.

But then he looks up and he and Ruka notice each other, see what the other is doing, and after all this built-up tension and awkwardness and lack of conversation, it only makes sense that…

They start laughing. They start talking, suddenly so honest, because the hardest part is over. They got to skip over the confrontation and now they can just talk about it with each other. They’ve known the truth about each other all along, but now they don’t have to pretend to hide it anymore.

And Ruka feels free to tease Natsume, and Natsume can tease Ruka, and that’s amazing too. Even before Mikan came to the academy, Natsume and Ruka had a lot left unsaid. They didn’t communicate well, and their talks never involved bickering or friendly teasing. It’s like all the tension that had accrued between them for years has suddenly lifted, and they can laugh about it now.

There's so much honesty here now.

Natsume can tease that Ruka has terrible taste in women, Ruka can shoot back that that means Natsume does too, and Natsume can scold him for putting himself on his level.

If anything, this was good for their relationship. They’re in a place now where they can communicate about their feelings somewhat. Natsume is never really that emotionally open, even at his most communicative, and he’ll continue to keep his secrets, but the wall that has built between them has been more or less knocked down.

This moment doesn’t seem romantic at all to Mikan, but romance is intrinsic to their conversation. Ruka swears he won’t lose, and Natsume scoffs that he’d never intended to win in the first place.

And just like that, without even including Mikan in their conversation, everything is back to normal, or even better than normal. The Christmas Ball tensions have officially been eliminated. The feelings may still be there, but the problems are gone.

But it’s still dark and scary, and now it seems that a ghost has joined them in the hall, wielding scissors--so Ruka and Mikan run away. Natsume is not so easily spooked, so he sticks around long enough to see that the ghost in question is Nobara.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Natsume starts his conversation with Nobara by reminding her of an off-screen (off-page?) conversation, where he told her to stay away from Mikan. Nobara explains that she came to see him, because she was watching Mikan for the entire Christmas party and has something to tell him. Though it’s a bit creepy, the lengths Nobara went to in order to watch Mikan (including special opera glasses that catch sound), she says she saw something strange.

At first, Natsume thinks she’s going to mention the kiss, and he’s uncomfortable that Nobara probably knows about it. First, she’s still just as untrustworthy to him as before, because she’s loyal to Persona. That their kiss might get back to Persona could be potentially quite dangerous, and he might face serious punishment as a result. Secondly, he’s also capable of getting embarrassed, and the idea that this girl was watching when he had no idea at all, especially during such a vulnerable moment, is a little off-putting.

But Nobara isn’t talking about the kiss. She’s talking about the fact that the person who danced with Mikan and upset her by making her mask fall was probably the ESP. She tells Natsume because she’s seen the way he looks at her and she knows that he cares about her. She can even tell that Natsume forbidding her from talking to Mikan is his way of protecting her, even though she must not be a fan of such a rule. She’s a middle-schooler, and not as close to Mikan, but Natsume is in her class. He’s her partner and he cares about her, so he is the best person to have protecting her. Because he will, no questions asked.

Natsume remembers the warning he’s been given, that he should continue isolating himself or bad things will happen to his loved ones, so we can tell that he finds himself somewhat responsible for the ESP upsetting Mikan. More than that, he’s understandably concerned that this is merely the first move of many, and that the ESP will continue to antagonize her and even put her in danger, and that it would all be his fault.

In any case, Natsume is kind of stuck regarding his options.

He can go back to trying to avoid her. He was never that great at it in the first place, but it’s bound to be even harder now. But he also has to protect her, and that will be harder to do from a distance. Besides, the damage seems to have already been done. Whatever happens, he’s willing to take all the punishment in her stead, as long as she’s safe.

Conclusion

Natsume has done all he intends to do: he got a kiss from Mikan and now he'll more or less step aside. Or will he? The plot thickens! But in any case, he's up to face some serious repercussions for his actions so far, and his punishment will be any day now...

Also, sorry, I couldn't find full scans for Chapter Fifty-Two, so there's no pics. It's okay, I wouldn't have done much for it anyway, because Natsume's only around for a few pages.

Hope y'all are having a nice day! Thank you so much for reading this far!

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[simplyclary]

Ewan McGregor: My Serotonin Booster

[P.S: Upon the time of writing, I have yet to watch most of his films including The Island, Beginners, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, Trainspotting along with some of his series/documentaries including Fargo, Long Way Round and Long Way Up]

I have known many celebrities who has given me happiness these past few years, but it was during quarantine when I needed someone the most. Don’t get me wrong though, many of the people whom I discovered during the start of quarantine still provides me happiness until now, the only difference being that there is a specific someone who really provides me the dose of serotonin that I really hunt and yearn for, that specific someone being Scottish actor Ewan McGregor.

Before I get to the cheesy part (I guess), let me narrate the timeline on how I found my happiness in him.

I first saw him as the debonair bronze candelabra Lumiere who sang the iconic song “Be Our Guest” in 2017’s live-action Beauty and the Beast. I instantly found Lumiere charming and cute in that film and him being head over heels in love for Plumette (played by the gorgeous Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is so cute and adorable, not gonna lie. Also, a moving candelabra singing and dancing in the middle of your dinner table is such a cute visualization, don’t you think?

A year later, Ewan then brought me back to childhood nostalgia through the lens of Christopher Robin, where he played the titular character. Seeing that film for the first time and watching him interact with Pooh, Piglet, Tigger and the other characters in the Hundred-Acre Wood has awakened the child in me. I honestly melt everytime I hear Pooh’s voice (voiced by Jim Cummings) since that voice was what made Pooh one of the cutest bears in the world of cartoons. Also if you observe in the film, there was a scene where he (Christopher) twirled his umbrella like a lightsaber when trying to "kill" a “Heffalump”. That scene kinda made me giggle and also made me think if it was just Ewan’s muscle memory or not.

Fast forward 3 years later to the current year of 2021, I have made a galactic discovery through Star Wars (yes, I know, I’m so late to the rave but hey, better late than never, right?) and through this galactic discovery, I met the sassiest, kindest, strongest and iconic Jedi warrior Obi-Wan Kenobi. I honestly applaud both Ewan and Sir Alec Guinness for their portrayals of the live-action versions of Obi-Wan as well as James Arnold Taylor and Stephen Stanton who voiced Obi-Wan in the animated series The Clone Wars and Rebels.

Now, believe me when I say that I fell in love with the animated Obi-Wan first because of The Clone Wars. Falling in love with the animated version then made me fall for the live-action version which Ewan portrayed flawlessly. It was really obvious in Ewan’s performance as Obi-Wan how much he paid homage to the Obi-Wan of Sir Alec Guinness and I really admired that. Plus, the iconic (and meme-worthy) lines are utterly unforgettable and it made me so happy to hear that he’s coming back as Obi-Wan in his own series on 2022. It was honestly through the character of Obi-Wan where I really started to love Ewan and because of this, I started to dig and binge some of his past and recent work.

Now armed with the yearning to look for and watch more of his movies, I scoured the internet and I found Birds of Prey among the list of his movies. First of all, I was utterly surprised when I found out he was involved in an all-female movie, but I was even more surprised when I found out that he was playing Roman Sionis, a.k.a Black Mask, who is the main villain in the movie. Truth be told, I have a history of loving villainous characters and he was no different. I honestly found him convincing as a villain, egotistical at best and was kind of saddened when he *spoiler alert* died at the end. I was hoping he would come back in a somewhat miraculous way, but I could accept if that’s how his story ends.

After watching Birds of Prey and witnessing him play a villain, I delved into the world of fashion design through the lens of Halston which is a Netflix series about Roy Halston, a famous fashion designer back in the 70s. Ewan played Halston flawlessly, and while some scenes made me cover my eyes because of explicit content, I still enjoyed the show overall not only because of Ewan but because I got to understand what Halston was really like behind the curtain, if you’d like.

Now, I am not the biggest horror movie fan but I faced my fear when I met Doctor Sleep himself, Danny Torrance. Considering that this is the sequel to “The Shining” which is deemed the scariest horror film ever made, I braced myself for it to be horrifying and I would be jumping out of my skin while watching it, and I did in several scenes. I applaud Ewan for playing the grown-up version of Danny and making me understand his story through this film.

After that horror experience, I decided to watch something that speaks to my heart and that is a movie with music, and Moulin Rouge was the perfect one. Now, this movie is highly recommended for every Ewan McGregor fan, because he showcases both his acting chops and his powerful vocals in this movie. I instantly fell in love with the penniless writer Christian, his sweet smile, kind spirit and utter obsession with the idea of love. Also, those songs he sang with Satine (played by the angelic soul that is Nicole Kidman) are automatic auditions to my playlist. Also, that drama at the end when Satine died and Christian was grieving, it made me tear up indeed.

After drama comes more drama, I went into a real-life story and that is The Impossible where he played Henry who is the husband to Maria (played by Naomi Watts) and father to 3 kids, one of them being my favorite Spiderman Tom Holland. Believe me when I say that the movie pulled at my heartstrings, especially after the tsunami hit and the family got separated as well as the scene where Henry (Ewan) was at this one camp and he was speaking on the phone while crying. I really felt the “dad” emotions there, knowing that he is a dad in real-life. This movie, even though you are a fan of Ewan and Tom, is not for the faint of heart.

The latest addition to my list is the knight-in-shining armor that is Elmont from Jack the Giant Slayer. He is a feisty one, let me tell you that. He does not give up easily and boy, does he look hot with that crossbow. Anyways, him as Elmont was a fantastic casting, showcasing the selfless persona of a knight who was willing to protect his kingdom above all else. The mini swordfights in between serve as bonuses.

Please do know that I will be watching more of his work as the days progress, but while writing this, this is all that I have seen.

Finally, I’m done with that lengthy timeline narration and now, onto the chessy-ish part, because it depends on perception if you are willing to think of my love for him as obsession or just dedication.

For the most part, I can’t really describe how happy he makes me. It’s as simple as me hearing him talk in interviews with that lovely Scottish accent of his, hearing him sing covers of songs and seeing his pictures on Pinterest (I have about a hundred of him on a board on the app, along with a few Star Wars characters) and the internet in general or it’s as bizarre as me smiling when I see a photo of him with a silver hoop piercing on his left ear or as scenic (I don’t even know if that’s the right word) as when I see a clip/GIF of him running his hand through his hair. I don’t really know and therefore can’t describe what is this feeling I feel when I see him.

Recently, I’ve been binge-watching his interviews on Graham Norton, Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel and other outlets and I can’t help but smile amidst him repeating stories and saying the same spiels and all, there’s just something about his presence that makes me feel happy. I’ve also been listening to his covers of songs and him playing the guitar and I melt. I mean, even with his mundane fashion sense, his charisma just stands out for me. Also, his point of views on career and why he chooses the projects that he does is inspirational. I just love, adore and admire him, amidst all the controversy (which I’m not gonna go deep into because that’s all in the past) that happened.

At the end of the day, all I can takeaway from all of these, is that Ewan really makes me happy. With his expressive blue eyes, charming smile, melodic voice, and sweet personality, he can easily lift up my spirits as high as the galaxies can reach. If only I could tell him all of these, but I would just faint and stutter if I were to see him face-to-face. But seriously, given the chance to speak with him, I would tell him how much he means to me and how much brighter the world is because of him.

I’ll just end this lengthy narration with a line from “Your Song”, which is originally sang by Elton John and Ewan sang it beautifully in Moulin Rouge and is now one of my favorite songs.

“How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world”

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte AU Event

Aight because I have Comte brainworms (is this a surprise to anybody I sure hope not), there’s something I’ve just been thinking about a lot ever since completing one of the story events a month ago:

The cover art being very sexy aside, I naturally did Comte’s story event and I have yet to move on. Namely because of one specific line. (Disclaimer: Keep in mind I don’t mean to say I’m an expert, I just translate for fun--I don’t have the same prowess as an official linguist. That being said starts the circus music let the show go on)

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

This is the line I want to dive into, but before I can really talk about it, we need proper context. 

Event spoilers below:

This event is a little different since it’s an AU, so the mansion and its residents don’t exist. (Comte lives in the mansion on his own, but it’s not the same one we know.) Instead Comte, Leo, and Arthur are stand alone suitors who have turned MC into a vampire. Because MC has no clear memory of how and/or why it happened, MC is seeking vengeance against her paired hottie--and fully intends to end their life one way or another.

Aside from how sexy revenge is and how much I love the enemies to lovers trope, Comte’s entire storyline gave me more life than I can humanly convey. Here goes nothing!

So it begins with MC knocking on his door and Comte answers it and literally just stares at her silently like some kind of Furby. MC starts out by saying she’s been trying to narrow down the bastard that ruined her life and her search has finally brought her to his doorstep. She basically demands the truth from him and he just keeps. Staring owlishly (lmao). He eventually relents and tells her that a conversation is much better held inside, and invites her into his home to talk. 

She's sus as hell but enters the house, and he asks if she's had blood. This stops her in her tracks, shook, and her monologue drifts to explain a few things. When she woke up years ago, a new vampire, she had instructions to approach the Rouge/Blanc dispensary for what she needed. The staff there told her that everything was paid for, and she continued to receive support from an unnamed benefactor. She asked them for the identity of this person, but they were beholden to customer confidentiality. As such, she's been searching for information to narrow down her target for years until she finally found him tonight.

Despite the years it doesn't mean she's any more comfortable with her new existence. She notes that she still tends to stick to drinking Blanc--only drinking Rouge (in other words, blood) when she has no other choice. When Comte puts the Rouge on the table, she becomes notably unsettled. She's thirsty, but she won't concede to his request that she drink it; she refuses.

(I feel like he can probably tell because he's her sire/because of his experience with vampires). Comte--naturally--refuses to let her go hungry, so he knocks it back and kisses her to get her to drink it. He lets go as soon as she's swallowed it, and doesn't resist when she shoves him off. She rails at him about how awful he is for doing that, he agrees. She asks if he was the one that killed her parents, he confirms with blasé indifference. She's fuming quietly, but she notes that he doesn't really look happy or triumphant about it. What he's saying isn't reaching his eyes; his gaze is distant and sad. And it's confusing her. Isn't he supposed to be the enemy?

She's lost in her thoughts and unresponsive until there's a loud cry from outside the house, the shriek of a nearby owl. She snaps out of her daze to see that she still has his hand in a vice grip from when she shoved him off, and his skin is blanched--she cut off his circulation from the pressure. She releases him, startled, but he says nothing. 

She's trying to sort out what's going on, and doesn't have enough information to really piece anything together. She wants to hate him but things aren't making sense. Why did her parents have to die in the first place? Why does he bother keeping her alive at his own expense? Even just now, what he did felt more like an attempt to get her to eat than anything else. Why isn’t he more malicious? This MC is desperate for answers, and she says as much: "What are you hiding…?" 

Comte doesn't answer her, just averts his gaze and remains silent. MC decides she won't do anything until she learns the full extent of what happened the night she was turned. Furthermore, she's well aware of Comte’s status being a problem. If she goes too far without proper motive, the aristocracy could come back to bite her in the ass. (The implication here is that she's more concerned about being wrong and living with that regret, rather than any necessity to protect herself. The state of his gaze--the melancholy there--keeps eating at her. Until she knows why, she won't move forward.) 

Comte is shocked that she demands to live alongside him in the mansion, but he doesn't take any issue with it. He says the mansion is pointlessly huge for one person anyway--she's welcome to stay. Either way she wins with this arrangement: either she gets the truth or she finds an effective way to destroy him by the end. And so their little cohabitation begins!

After a timeskip, MC recounts how she's been spending her days in the mansion. She's been tidying around the house, both in the hopes of finding evidence and/or in the hopes of repaying all the years of living on his assistance. He doesn't stop her, letting her do as she pleases and keeping his distance.

One day, she's about to step out into town to grab some groceries. Comte approaches at the front door, cautioning her to be safe--there have been many reports of scuffles/dangerous encounters. MC brushes him off, unsurprised he knows what's going on in town. He's very well connected to the aristocracy, and she notes that he's often at dinner gatherings and parties when he's not home. She insists she can't let her guard down, that he can't be trusted; no matter how kind he is to her face.

Another day, he asks her to attend a ball later in the week. He tells her she's under no obligation to stay with him while they're there, just that he wants her to take some time and relax--to have fun. She tries to insist that going to something like that would be more stressful than fun but he won’t hear of any protest, walking away before she can fully reject the outing. (Comte, an idiot, speed-walking out of the room: and that is what we call finessed). She sighs, thinking she'll be nothing but a burden to him given her lack of knowledge about events like that. She doesn't really know the proper etiquette or how to dance, it’s completely out of her depth.

Surprising no one at all Comte buys MC a dress and accessories to match regardless, and when she comes down the staircase leading to the front door he's awestruck. He tells her she's beautiful and she's miffed by the raw sincerity, trying to remind herself that he is eeeeevil. He knows how to talk to women given his status, he's just smooth talking... (She's trying to convince herself, essentially.)

And so they go, and she's a bit of a wallflower. He leaves her alone--doesn't want to bother her--while she sticks close to one wall. Several men ask her to dance, but she politely declines. Her monologue explains that, given what she is and the fact that she’s only living for revenge, she sees no merit in trying to court human men. She sees it as irresponsible and inevitably disastrous, and…

[Given the nature of what I am I just can't. I can't fall in love with a human man. Besides, the only person I really want to dance with is...as much as I hate it, my line of sight keeps drifting to Comte. Suddenly he looks up and meets my gaze, but I hurriedly look away--my heart pounding in my chest. Why. In a room full to the brim with people, why do my eyes keep looking for him. Whatever, time to go cool off for a bit.]

She leaves the ballroom--mortified at herself--to get some fresh air. Not five minutes into trying to figure out whatever the hell is going on with her shitshow of a life, a man appears asking what she’s doing alone. And da da da d a Zelda treasure chest sound effect he whips out a knife covered in blood and tries to stab MC. Naturally, because I’m an idiot, my first thought was:

TW: knife attack

TW: homicides by serial killer

But it turns out our local serial killer remains nameless in this event, so I can point no fingers. MC is panicking about needing to run and frozen in place from the shock, but Comte appears to pull her out of range--knife sinking into his back. He doesn’t react much to the violence as the attacker runs away, yanking out the knife and focused on checking her for any wounds. She’s still reeling from how quickly he reacted, and he reassures her (probably at the sight of her bewildered/worried look) that law enforcement is on alert in the area. They’ll find him, they’ll arrest him. 

She tries to ask him why. Why would he protect her like that? His first instinct was to take the hit and ensure her safety first, and it doesn’t make sense. Comte reassures her again, joking that purebloods are sturdy. See? The wound’s already healed c:

[Even though I've been spending all this time trying to get my revenge on him, my heart stopped when he was attacked. As if to reassure me, frozen and speechless, Comte smiles gently. This person.......I can't do it. I can't kill him without meaning, without being sure of the truth.]

"...Comte, I can tell you're a good person. What happened that night, so many years ago?" Because even now, he's still protecting me. "Please...tell me the truth. I want to know." 

[I know this isn't the time or place, but if I don't know I can't worry about him with a clear head.]

TW: human trafficking and drugging unconscious

Comte concedes and goes into what happened that night so many years ago. Apparently he was acquainted with her parents long before the incident, and they fell into debt as a result of gambling. He approached their home in the hopes of paying them a visit, checking up on them, only to encounter tragedy. They intended to sell their daughter off and the man they ended up making a deal with more or less slaughtered them all in cold blood. The reason MC doesn’t remember any of this was because her parents drugged her the night it happened. No consciousness, no resistance.

"In that room suffused in the odor of blood and despair, I found you, MC." Her pained, struggling cry is what led him into that room--and seeing how desperately she was fighting to survive, he turned her against all his better judgement. Feeling certain she would hate him forever for the choice he made compounded by her terrible circumstance, he bailed, leaving her instructions and resources to survive on her own. 

"Sold off by your own parents, attacked by a serial killer, seconds from death. I thought....I thought telling you about it would only bring you pain, that it would leave you numb from the shock and despair. That's why I kept it from you.”

"...After turning you, I was consumed by regret. I felt certain you would hate me for the choice I made. So I left." [When I don't know what to say, he keeps talking.] "But I was worried about you even so. I tailed you quietly, making sure you were getting along okay. I was fully aware you wanted to kill me for what I'd done. Even so, I wanted to check on you." 

And that is where the line comes in.

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

He admits that he fell in love with her after a point. And she’s baffled, considering she’s been looking for every reason to tear him apart--assuming he was the perpetrator when he actually saved her life. She protests immediately, asking how he could possibly feel that way after the level of vitriol and judgement she’s levied against him when he was only trying to help.

"That's not true at all. At heart, you're a very kind young lady. You haven't raised a hand against me all this time. And even when you considered me to be a repulsive presence, you were worried about me." 

At this MC is conflicted--because his words are a further extension of his equanimity. He’s well aware that he brought about all the confusion by not being honest, but it’s also clear there was no ill intent involved in that decision. He was concerned; hitting her with that level of misfortune and senseless terror all at once could have been incredibly destructive to her health. (This isn’t to say he made the ‘right’ decision; I don’t think there is any right decision in the face of such a complex situation. Given he takes full responsibility for what happened and does his best to help her, I think that’s a fair response.)

This is essentially where the common rt ends. But because I’m feral for Comte and enjoy talking about him, I’ll finish up the summary and then go on to do my analysis.

After that riveting assault, MC is feeling very lost about how to move forward. Her fury at Comte’s injustice has all but evaporated, which means a complete re-evaluation of how she’s going to move forward from now on. Does she continue with her revenge anyway, still angry for the dishonesty? Or does she try something new?

If you do the premium end that means choosing to forgive Comte and climb him (as he deserves). Therefore I, being an intellectual, chose to ride him into the sunset.

The premium end begins with Comte taking her to another ball because the first one kind of went to shit and he feels bad about it (retraumatization was not in the plan...). And so MC basically does the same thing as the first time, just vibin and taking in the scenery, thinking things over. Comte’s concerned about her not having fun, so he approaches her to ask if she’s feeling okay. He makes it clear that he really doesn’t mind if she dances with someone else--even if he admitted his feelings for her. She doesn’t owe him anything, and he has no intention of imposing on her future.

"Whatever it is you choose to do, I don't mind. I just want you to be happy"

[This person is so, so gentle...His words penetrate deep and settle with warmth over my heart, my chest light.] "Comte I.......I don't want to dance with anyone but you." [I still don't know what to do about the future, but for now I think following what my heart is telling me is the best move] 

"!!!....well then, if you insist..."

Comte’s just:

He’s beyond shocked, but accepts her invitation when she confirms it’s what she wants to do. Leading her in all his infinite grace, MC marvels at his ability to dance so elegantly--even with a partner who’s deadweight, like her. She also finds it astounding how easily he makes her forget what they are, how easily she just enjoys the moment; no turmoil, no lingering in the worst of her miseries. She’s just...having fun? For the first time in so very long.

[Comte murmurs in the short distance, clear remorse on his face--as though he can't help it.] 

"MC, it's kind of you, honestly. That you'd give me the time of day, that you'd agree to dance with me. But I...I'm the one that turned you. There's no denying or escaping that fact. If it's you, I'm ready to accept any consequence. If you want me gone, you're free to attack me. If you just want to be as far away from me as possible--to live your life in peace and solitude--I will do everything in my power to help you." 

[He said it as if he was trying to convince himself. Like he was trying to remember why he couldn't assume more of this single dance together, why he couldn't let hope emerge from this single shared moment.] 

[.....I'm not that kind, Comte. I asked because it's you.....Feeling his warmth beneath my hands, I come to a decision.]

There’s a timeskip, and then MC--being the badass that she is--knocks on Comte’s door the night of the crescent moon. He lets her inside more than ready to accept her judgement, whatever it may be. MC asks about his feelings, seeks to confirm that he still loves her before she confesses herself. 

"Comte. Comte you said--that you loved me right?" 

"Yes that's correct...no matter how much you might hate me, these feelings won't change. I love you." 

[Hearing those words again sets my chest on fire. And I decide to tell him my honest feelings.] 

"I love you too. But......I've held a misguided grudge against you for so long, is it okay for me to love you now?" 

[Can that misunderstanding really be forgiven? Am I allowed to love you? Comte's eyes widen, and the breathtaking gold of his eyes shimmer/waver.] 

"...shouldn't that be my line? I mean even despite the circumstances, I still made the choice to turn you :o Can you really forgive me?" 

"...If I'm honest, I still have a hard time drinking blood and I'm a little scared of an immortal life. But......I think if I could spend that eternity at your side, I could find the means to smile again. And....the thing is....I also want to see you smile, to make sure you remember how to smile." 

".................." [Le Comte stared at me, before extending his hand. And he hugged me so, so tightly.] "MC......." 

[In that single word all the raw emotion of ten years can be heard. It was an indescribable sound--one that spoke of an unimaginable, impossible love. This person loves me so very dearly.]

The event ends with them biting each other as proof of their bond, essentially a vow to stay together moving forward. It felt very much like the shared act of biting was a promise of love, how vampires might get married or commit to each other romantically. The summary essentially ends here.

Here’s where the semi-meta comes in, because I literally just can’t stop thinking about the implications of this event. 

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

I just...I just don’t even know where to begin with how hard this line hits. Comte’s MS conveys this sentiment powerfully too, but there’s just something about them choosing to emphasize it yet again. The reason Comte falls in love every time has to do with his MC’s strength, her ability to surmount remarkable obstacles with so much poise. She’s deeply in tune with her reality, but no less relentlessly positive. She won’t burden others with her problems, and she’ll do everything in her power to move forward in constructive ways.

Even when every day was a living hell. Both Comte and Leonardo perceive eternity to be something of a curse; an endless sentence. Whether it means suffering boredom, reliving tragedy, or going nigh numb from the loneliness--being an immortal creature isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. 

And that’s exactly why I think he fell in love with this MC? I don’t think his feelings would have run half as deep if it was just anyone. He doesn’t strike me as the type to get attached easily. Because if he’s going to have a life partner, he needs someone who's going to be able to roll with whatever life throws their way for conceivable lifetimes. Somebody that loses heart quickly or is easily prone to delusion would suffer eternally, and the last thing he wants is to subject a person to that. MC gives him hope certainly, but she’s also emblematic of a kind of fortitude he both needs on a personal level and she would need to be beside him. It’s interesting because it’s a responsible choice on his part, but also just very befitting of his nature. He’s somebody that staunchly believes in the ability of good to prevail, but he’s also realistic about it. He knows doing the right thing isn’t necessarily easy; he does it because he could never live with himself if he did otherwise. 

(Think about Comte’s approach with Jeanne. It meant years of being on the receiving end of hatred he didn’t deserve, but he didn’t mind if it meant Jeanne could find a way to heal. It’s not the most practical or immediate solution, but it is the most restorative option. Comte doesn’t care that he spends years living alongside Jeanne’s outspoken displeasure and even violent outbursts. Why? Because it’s all a means to a greater, better end. If he has to suffer a little discomfort, he’s willing to make that sacrifice. That’s the thing with Comte; intentionality is everything. Comte’s intention is to help. Whether that’s a short or long process, a smooth or rough process, he’s going to do what he can within his means.)

That dynamic is reflected in his respect for this MC who is filled with fury on behalf of all the life that she lost unfairly, her relentless pursuit for the truth of what happened to her. Notice, she’s more interested in truth than retaliation. She refuses to lay an intentionally violent hand on Comte until she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was worthy of being on the receiving end of that retribution. Who does that sound like? If you guessed Comte himself, then you see where I’m going with this. What MC and Comte have in common is that they have a sharp emotional fortitude that they keep under tight, rational control. They will react with sizable passion or hurt or warmth--but their externalized reaction will vary depending on the situation. If it’s a minor annoyance, they have the patience to diffuse and try to alleviate the problem. If it’s on a larger scale or it’s an egregious violation of their personhood, then they up the ante accordingly.

Think about it. MC appears on Comte’s doorstep full of righteous rage and even when he confirms what he’s “done,” she hesitates. Her emotional intelligence is telling her something isn’t aligning properly; something isn’t quite right. She forgoes immediate revenge for proper answers instead. MC and Comte have this kind of balance, where they are more than happy to hear people out--but there is a limit to that propensity. Push them too far? They’ll bust your head. I guess I’m particularly interested in the way Comte seems to yearn for that kind of identification with a partner. Somebody who has similar values: not merciless, but also won’t bend when a situation requires confrontation.

All that being said, there was one more aspect of the story that I was endlessly interested in. I’m going to link the post here, in that it’s tangentially related to this meta; it really made me better able to articulate what I mean to say. 

“Never let generosity hold hostages; courtesy is an essential tool, but a cruel master.”

I’m gonna let that sink in for a moment.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, because it’s very rare that I read something once and I’m forced to read it several more times before I begin to understand it. My interpretation of that line is to say that benevolence can showcase your good will to others; it can be a reliable proof of good character, and a way to help someone. But the problem comes when people do conventionally/perceived generous things with the explicit intent of repayment by some measure. While it is only responsible to care for others as they care for you, you shouldn’t make impossible sacrifices with the expectation that the other person is indebted to you--especially if the other party had no ability to consent to that sacrifice.

How does this apply to Comte in this event story? Er, in almost every way humanly (vampirely?) possible, in my view. Comte turns MC into a vampire after seeing her plight, largely because he gets the impression that she was fighting for her life--had impossibly survived against all odds. The situation is complicated though. MC wasn’t fully conscious when it happened, so she doesn’t have a proper understanding of how everything went down. So what does Comte do? If he can’t bear to face her or reveal the truth of how horribly she died, he at least gives her every means to survive and makes sure she’s doing okay since she’s technically an orphan now. He doesn’t interfere with her life, or demand recognition for the life he gave her. He fully understands that she wasn’t able to properly consent to his decision in that split second moment, and even if she had he doesn’t see it as a debt she owes him now. He was able to help save her life for at least a little while longer, and so he did. It was as simple as that. He had the ability, she had the need. That’s the end.

But Comte’s emotional acuity doesn’t just end here. Even when she comes after him to kill him, he doesn’t respond with anger because he knows full well he hasn’t explained. Sure he’s sacrificing their relationship (the ability to get along on half-decent terms) but if it means she can find a reason to live, then so be it. He doesn’t lord that sacrifice over her head by any extension; he’s just sad about it because he thinks she’s a wonderful person, and he doesn’t want to be estranged from her. But in his view, her needs supercede his wants.

He doesn’t force her to do chores around the house during her stay, she does it to keep herself busy and search for the truth about his intentions. He even asks her to take breaks and look after herself first, more concerned with her well-being than the state of the mansion. At the ball, he doesn’t force her to linger around him or dance with him despite inviting her there and giving her the dress/jewelry to attend. He leaves her alone as she wishes, only glancing at her to make sure she’s doing okay. When he takes the hit from the violent stranger--a knife straight to the back--he jokes about being s t r o n k, never once blaming her for the wound he sustains no matter how brief.

He explains that he didn’t tell her the truth because it was incredibly traumatic, and it’s only in the safety of the moment--after years of having conceived of her own selfhood beyond the event--that she’s able to take the weight of what happened without falling apart. The premium end just keeps hammering this shit home. He openly tells her she doesn’t have to dance with him at all, that she doesn’t owe him anything just because he likes her. He’s aware it’s unrequited (he thinks) and he doesn’t go on and on about all the sacrifices he made for her with the expectation she’ll reciprocate. He just did what he wanted to do, nothing more. If she feels the same way by some miracle, that’s amazing! If she doesn’t, as it would be valid if not, that’s fair too; no hard feelings.

She has to be the one to invite him to dance and insist. She’s the one that smiles fondly when he’s telling her that she can choose whatever outcome she pleases, even if it means wanting to live as far as possible from him. There is no guilt trip, no expectation, and no pressure. She has the freedom to leave or stay. It is entirely dependent on her own will. For the first time in a lifetime of loss, her agency is restored to her. That’s huge.

She even admits that she feels bad about being so angry when he really was just trying to help, now that she can understand what he’s doing. And he’s openly shocked to hear it. He had no intention of expecting or asking for an apology. He understands it was his own imposition, both biting her and obscuring the truth, that led to her setting her mind on vengeance. 

I’ve probably hit it home harder than necessary, but Comte just feels like the epitome of good will in the best way possible. One can argue he’s a little selfish for keeping the truth from her for so long, but honestly? Given the horrific trauma of her situation--and his personal fear of making her miserable for an eternity when all he wanted was to give her a second chance away from all that hurt--I feel like his reaction was closer to considerate and reasonable. Comte doesn’t sacrifice anything he isn’t unwilling to give, or anything that would cripple him to give. Furthermore, he doesn’t make love out to be a kind of 1:1. He recognizes that while he might know her well, she doesn’t know squat about him. And, as such, he doesn’t expect her to trust his intentions or reciprocate his feelings in any capacity. It’s just a delightful surprise when she does. When he tells her that he loves her that first time, it’s an explanation. Not a guilt trip. He knows she won’t be satisfied years of protecting her simply because “he wanted to” and he promised her the truth, so he tells her. Not only that, in the aftermath he repeatedly reminds her she isn’t bound to him. She commits to him before he relies on any kind of active bond between both of them.

I don’t know, maybe I think too hard about it, but I feel like the older I get the more I see a shortage of this kind of fine-tuned caring about the other person in a relationship. I guess I just enjoy seeing a man give a woman her health and agency without treating her wellness/happiness like it’s a burden to his life? First and foremost Comte really is concerned with her self-actualization before his feelings can have any place in their relationship. And even when he does confess his love, it isn’t a way to force her to feel indebted to him; it’s an attempt to erase any false pretenses. MC loves him, not because she has nowhere else to go, but because he’s proven himself time and again a worthy companion. Always putting her first, always worried about her feelings, paying such close attention that he sees her to the core of who she is despite her iron front--kind, beneath all that hurt. They spend so much of this event really listening to each other despite such difficult circumstances, and it leads to a deep and abiding love against all odds. And I find that incredibly moving...

Oh and, before I forget? Let me circle back for a moment:

"...it amazed me. You never stopped trying, never stopped helping others or gave up on them--even while every day was a living hell for you."

The best part about this event is that--while Comte says this about MC--this is also precisely the reason MC falls in love with Comte too, even if it’s never stated outright. Because despite how lonely and tired he may be of eternity, no matter how many troubles he’s facing himself, he never stops trying to help and support others (namely MC) in any way he can.

Drops mic

[supertransural]

Dean and his “things, people and feelings” he’s already “experienced differently”.

So here’s a random 4am thought I had. You know how while in the confessional in 10x16, Dean talks about “things, people, feelings” he wants to “experience differently/for the first time”? That confession is literally incoherent if you take a perfectly heterosexual-non-castiel-point of view. It just is. Let me explain why I think that is, and prepare yourself, this is going to be long. 

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that we’re supposed to understand that conversation the way the priest understands it, that we’re supposed to see Dean the way the priest sees him: as someone who likes to have flings, who cheats, doesn’t commit, etc... basically the character that was introduced to us in the first few seasons/episodes (somewhat). I’m going to be calling that stance the “priest POV”. 

The issue here, is that this is not in fact “the first few seasons/episodes”, this is season 10, Things have happened since then. People have happened. Feelings. Have. Happened. Wether it be in the form of flashbacks or present day events, we’ve seen character development. So let’s start with romantic ones.

1: The first one that comes to mind is Lisa (and Ben). He had a committed, long term, family oriented, white picket fence relationship. It wasn’t just a “I had no other place to go” kinda deal, because once he was somewhat back on his feet, he could’ve pulled a Dean WInchester and left. Except he didn’t. He could’ve cheated. Except he didn’t. He could’ve not opened up or not gotten vulnerable. Except he did. That should already debunk the “priest POV” but let me add on. 

2: Cassie. Dean was insanely vulnerable with her, he loved her, opened up to her about the one big thing he never tells his one night stands, and incidentally was the one who was rejected this time around. He still has feelings about her when he meets her again. 

3: Robin. His first, real girlfriend. With whom he was also in a committed relationship with, which probably would’ve kept on growing if John hadn’t been the usual assh*le that he is, and Dean had had a chance to go to that dance with her. I like to think of her as beta-version-Lisa, and also as the girl who set him on his blazing trail of leaving women after 1 day or 1 week. His dad was the one to rip him away from her, and we know he wanted his son to be the perfect masc, emotionless, order-following, womanizer. And that is exactly what Dean attempts to become, even though this obviously goes against every fiber of his being (see #4).

4: Amanda. Now you may be thinking “but hey! Dean does cheat on her! and it is a short relationship!”. Sure he does, and sure it is, as I said, ever since Robin, he’s trying to be the womanizer his dad wants him to be. But he still lets himself get quite attached to Amanda, as shown by his disdain of the school right after she dumps him in front of everyone. The only reason he liked or tolerated this school wasn’t just “the hot cheerleaders” or whatever, it was Amanda. He wants to put on this mask of “I don’t care about her, I’m a bad boy, I’m just in it for the sex”, but he’s genuinely hurt by what she tells him about his life and how she judges it, and saddened by the breakup. He lets himself get hurt by her. Bear with me, this is important, because we see it happen again with Cassie and then he never lets it get to that point again, simply because of fear and trauma (I think), for example he’s the one to start the conversation about breaking up with Lisa.

Now. What about the “he was just talking about platonic things and feelings and people” possibility. Spoiler alert, it still doesn’t work. 

1: Jo. Otherwise known in my head as beta-version-Charlie, it’s true that Jo is part of those “early seasons” characters, but that only adds to the inconsistency of the “priest POV”. Dean cared intensely about her, some people think of their relationship as romantic, but I really like the “big brother/father/protective” figure idea. Whatever you believe their relationship was, it was profound, I mean he was positively shattered when she died. Again, deep feelings, longterm feelings. 

2: Benny. Like seriously. Dean spent a year in Purgatory with him, saw him as a brother despite the fact he was a vampire, helped him as much as he could while he was having troubles adapting to life on Earth again, protected him through thick and thin, went against his brother for him, against other hunters, against his core beliefs as a hunter himself, just. for. him. If that doesn’t tick all the boxes of things, feelings, people he wants to experience differently for you, then I truly don’t know what to tell you. And then there’s the whole thing with the ship between them, which I somewhat agree with but it isn’t cannon enough for this. 

3: Garth. Yeah, sure, Dean is condescending towards him at first, but he does care about him a lot, and probably doesn’t understand why and how Garth cares about him so quickly, or offers support voluntarily. Garth is a bit of a role model to him, that scrawny, somewhat cringy, little man is better at life than Dean is, and Dean sees that. He’s bothered by it at first, but learns to respect Garth later on, and care about him. He relies on him as a hunter, and kind of as a friend too and he lets him be the new Bobby (which proves a lot of trust grew here) (also, much later on, Dean makes sure he stays out of hunting so Garth can have a happy family life, he also accepts the fact that he’s a werewolf and that his whole family is too). That Also counts as people experienced differently and for the first time. 

4: Kevin. Or as I like to call him, sort-of-beta-version-Jack. Dean feels responsible for him, he jumps into the role of a father figure more than Sam ever does, as much as Sam cares about Kevin too. He is also completely shattered when he dies, like with Jo (which is a bit of the reason why I see Jo and Dean’s relationship as a Big brother-Little sister relationship, the vibe is similar (but not identical) to Kevin and Dean’s). 

5: Jody. Jody is like the mother he never really had growing up. He is vulnerable around her, opens up, she’s basically family. I’m not going to write in Bobby, because he doesn’t count as “new things”, he was effectively his father. Here, Dean lets Jody become a sort of mother to him even though his memory of his mom isn’t as tarnished as his dad’s is. He lets her step into his mom’s sacred shoes. He lets her take care of him in a way. He lets her enter his life and be here for him. New people, new feelings.

6: Charlie. Charlie is his little sister, no doubt about it. She’s his role model, he loves her deeply, he lets himself care about her and feel insanely protective of her. He lets her be Sam #2. He lets himself become a big brother to a new Jo. To a new human. He lets his nerdy side out around her, he learns from her openness about being gay. He is comfortable around her. He is constantly worried about her. New feelings, new people, new things, first time blah blah blah you know the drill by now.

7: Ash. Yes, yes, I know, another “early on” character. But as I said, it keeps on just proving my point. First of all, I firmly believe Dean had a massive crush on Ash but that’s just my interpretation. He respects Ash and looks up to him, he wants to be a bit like him, confident, comfortable in his own life and skin, happy, and he lives in a friggin’ bar for godsakes. He is the epitome of what Dean wants to be at that point in time. He wants to be carefree like Ash is. He thinks Ash is highly intelligent, and has it made. He sees what a happy man can be, one without burdens from “the life”. Ash is a bit like the cooler version of Garth (no offense to Garth of course). Does that count as a role model? I don’t know. But it sure as hell shaped Dean’s hope for what his life could one day be. And Dean cares about Ash deeply as well, he was devastated when he died (he was devastated about the whole Roadhouse burning of course, but it’s clear Ash’s death shakes him quite a bit) and is genuinely happy when he gets to see him again in Heaven, when he sees Ash content and at peace, and the fact that Ash tells him he’ll see him again one day makes him smile (btw thats something I would’ve wanted to see in the finale, but nooooo they simply had to give us a train wreck instead). 

So now that we’ve established those relationships he’s already had before (and I use the term relationship broadly here, it also includes all his friends), I’d like to point something out. There are of course other people he met along the way, other people he saved who inspired him, like the gay couple LARPing as him and Sam, Ellen (beta-version-Jody), in a way Tessa, Layla Rourke, Eileen, to name a few. But I feel as though the ones I cited were the main ones that truly show how shallow the “priest POV” interpretation is.

So where exactly does all this leave us? Well, friends, exactly where I intended it to be. That scene can’t be about potential women being longterm or serious romantic partners because that’s already happened. It can’t be about friends or monsters, because that’s already happened. Canonically. Several times, in several different flavors. 

TL;DR: There is no way this confession scene is heterosexual, and it’s probably about Cas, but not just him, it’s also simply about Dean himself and his comfy closet getting not so comfortable anymore. 

[beatskylar]

A broken memory, is a knife to the heart

(Spoiler alert if you haven’t seen the last season.)

AU: instead of Carmen remembering the truth, she’s captured and her friends race against the clock to remind her of who she truly is. Cannon up to the end of the show.

I hope you enjoy

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“Don’t you remember me? I’m your friend, Jules!”

“The only ‘Jules’ I care to befriend are the kind right over there.”

Carmen startles awake, sweat running down her spine despite being trapped in a cold room. It takes her a moment for her breathing to return to normal, but her heart still pounds inside her body as if she was running away from someone, from something.

“Jules.” It scares her how easy the blue coat’s name rolls off her tongue, second nature by now despite being the second time she has ever said her name. She doesn’t dare say anything else, she knows she’s being watched and right now she has to focus. She has to escape and let VILE know they’re being monitored and that Crackle... He’s a traitor to them, Gray betrayed her.

“Please come back.”

“You sold me out, Gray.”

The bed she was on creeks as she stands, the noise tugging at her heart for no reason. The only source of light is coming from the ceiling, but its dimmed to the point she can’t pinpoint any doors that could lead her to freedom, but she can guess if there’s a door, it’ll be opposite the steel toilet and sink. When she looks up and sees a camera, clearly directed at her, she smiles.

Whoever captured her thinks they have won, and she’s going to be pleased when she escapes without any of them knowing.

“You were the only loose end. Until five seconds ago when I captured the elusive Carmen Sandiego.”

She bites down the scream that begs to be released as images of her and Gray bombard her. She doesn’t ever remember being on a train with Gray, especially with him pointing his crackle rod at her as she just sits there. She would of attacked him, disarmed him in a second for being dumb enough to threaten her with his little toy.

“It’s not real, it’s not real.” She repeats the mantra through gritted teeth but with every repetition the images become harder to ignore. The feeling of the black string wrapped around her fingers, connecting her to the bag holding the greatest treasure in the world. From a caper she doesn’t remember pulling.

The slight hum of Gray’s weapon as they talk, talk about her and VILE. His cocky smile believing he won, to the fearless look on his face as she points his weapon back at him, no hum emitting. 

“Fingerprint recognition”

“They never protect the face.”

“It’s fingerprint activated. It won’t work for you.”

“Won’t it? Being VILE faculty has its perks.”

It’s too much, right now all she wants is for it to stop. She feels her tears slide down her face as she grabs a hold of the nearby wall, her legs are shaking, and her breathing becomes erratic.

“What did you do to me!?” She yells with all her might, refusing to fall back onto that creaking, uncomfortable, sorry excuse for a bed. “Gray! You... You traitor!” slowly she falls back into the bed, conscious as the pain continues to gain power. “You used to be my friend. I thought of you as a brother.” Is the last thing she whispers before falling unconscious.

```````````````

“It’s-”

“Yeah, Yeah.”

“For our own safety.”

For the second time Carmen jolts awake, breathing heavily and waiting for her body to calm down. She still has a mission to do, she needs to protect her family from those damn blue coats, Gray and... Shadowsan. He turned Gray against her, why else would he betray her and VILE? Shadowsan is going to pay for everything he’s done.

Carmen doesn’t move, not even when a bright light enters the room for a few seconds before disappearing. She waits patiently for whoever entered the room to speak. After a few minutes of silence, she looks up, grey eyes meeting black. Blood rushes through her body, reigniting the anger at the man she sees before her. “Shadowsan,” Carmen scoffs, forcing her body to attack. Quickly she pushes herself off the bed, throwing rapid punches towards the former VILE faculty, who easily counters every attack without hesitation. “I’ll make you regret ever stealing from me.”

“Are you with me?”

“To the end of the line.”

“I did not come here for the gem.”

“Neither did I.”

She continues, remembering everything Coach Brunt taught her on how to inflict excruciating pain to her enemy. Every punch and kick is evaded with ease, and yet he never strikes back. He dances around her, a song she doesn’t know forcing her to attack and hope she can land a punch on the shadow. “I do not wish to harm you, Carmen.” His voice and face show no emotion, but his eyes do: she saw a glimpse of sadness in her former professor’s eyes.

“you already did!,” three more punches followed by a swift kick finally land on Shadowsan, pushing him towards the wall. “You tried to stop me by cheating me out of a passing grade. When that didn’t work, you tried destroying the only family I knew by betraying us,” Carmen kept the distance between the two, giving her a minute to catch her breath and prepare for another blow. “If you think I’ll let you get away with murdering my father, you are sorely mistaken!”

Carmen yells, throwing her right fist towards Shadowsan’s face, who simply grabs it in his left hand, refusing to let her go. “Carmen, you need to listen to me. VILE has lied to you, I did not take his life.”

“You have been misled. I did not take your father’s life.” Anger pulses through Carmen’s veins at the denial of his actions. Why can’t he just man up, and admit he is a murder? Her attacks become rapid in pace, and Shadowsan is just as quick to avoid getting injured. He is able to counter all her moves, reading her movements before she can hurt him, they both move together as if they have practiced this fight before. “Please, you are in no condition to fight.”

Shadowsan quickly grabs Carmen’s left arm, his unmoving form doesn’t even react to Carmen as she struggles against his grips. Growling she tries kneeing him in his stomach, but none of her kick’s lands on her target. “Carmen, you need to rest. You should not be fighting.”

Shadowsan sidestep Carmen as she throws a left jab, screaming when he remains unscratched. Right, left, right jabs are thrown in quick successions which only prove to be able to make Shadowsan take several steps back to avoid her furry. A front kick to his chest pushes him to the nearby pillar with force, but she’s not done. She quickly follows it by two roundhouse kick, the second one striking him in the jaw with more power than the first. Lastly, she fires of three precise hooks to his stomach, effectively leaving him breathless. He falls to his knees, one hand clenching his stomach as the other props him from falling face first. He is left completely powerless to her.

“Normally, I’ll force you to beg for my mercy,” Her smile reflects the power she feels at besting her former teacher, former family. “But you know what they say: An eye for an eye.” A familiar crackle and green light fills the night, sealing Shadowsan to the same fate as Gray.

“Carmen-”

“Beg me. I want to hear you beg me to kill you,” Carmen chuckles at the shock and fear in the ninja’s eyes, beautifully illuminated by VILE’s color. “I said beg!” She demands after a minute of silence from him. Nothing will make Carmen feels as powerful as she feels right now, knowing she’s going to end the life of the man who tried to take everything from her.

“Carmen!” Turning around ready to strike the poor fool that dares interrupt her moment, she’s left stumbling and coughing as a gas is sprayed directly in her face. Dropping her weapon, Carmen tries to find her footing and focus on her blurring vision. “Are you okay?” The blue coat agent, ‘Jules’, ask Shadowsan as she helps him up, both refusing to let their guard down too long.

“Yes, thank you agent Arg-”

“You coward,” Carmen coughs as she falls to her knees, trying not to pass out from the gas. “Not man enough to take me out by yourself,” She can feel she’s slipping, and she knows that once she’s out they’ll take her away before she can warn VILE. “I’ll get you old man. And you too, girly.”

“I’m sorry Carmen.” Is the last thing she hears as she finally falls victim to the gas.

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Part two

[wherearemyglassesbro]

Omg omg omg omg everyone be quiet right now thank you @heyheyjay for THIS

For starters, it would absolutely have a very negative effect on Fran’s relationship with Arthur. He’s aware it’s irrational and his feelings are based on personal issues but having his rival/friend/lover defend a murderer? And have that murderer get away? Oh no, Fran would probably not talk to him for awhile after. Not because he’s mad AT Arthur, he just has to sort out his own feelings. He’s a complex guy and his feelings are like balls of colored yarn all tangled together. He has to take time to sort it all out and come to a conclusion. “I am not upset with you. I am upset with the outcome of that trial. I would like for us to go back to being friends again...If that’s alright...” he’s still closed off for awhile but eventually, he’ll open back up and go back to normal, the incident not forgotten but forgiven

The first two times Arthur saw Francis in a murder trial setting were VERY different. The first time, he was still somewhat of a rookie. He had gone up against Francis twice now in court and won both times. Now he wanted to study his way of speaking, his organization, his body language, that kind of stuff. So he sat in the crowd, off to the side out of the field of vison for the prosecutors booth.

Francis carried himself the same as usual. Confident and proud, speaking passionately on behalf of the victim, appealing to the jury. He did everything by the book and to be honest? Arthur was impressed. It was different watching him from the crowd than it was from the defense booth.

When Francis lost the trial, even Arthur was shocked. He watched him stiffly pack his papers away and leave the courtroom in a hurry. It was strange behavior for sure, something that he’d never seen before. Instead of his classic smile, he sported a frown and a look in his eyes that Arthur couldn’t place. To be nice, he caught up with him in the hallway “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but I want to let you know, you did fantastic in there. I don’t know how on earth you lost that-“ “Leave me alone, Kirkland” Francis all but shoved past him, making a beeline for his car. Arthur could hear the squeal of his tires from inside the courthouse

That was not the loud, extravagant Francis he knew. That was someone else, someone sad and angry...Maybe Francis was more complex than he thought (Spoiler alert: Yes. He is)

The second time he witnessed a loss, he was far closer with the Frenchman. He knew his mannerisms and his body language. The two were teetering on the edge of being in a relationship or just being super close friends. Francis didn’t want Arthur to go to this trial but he insisted “It’s my day off. I’ll come support you and we can go to lunch afterwards. No big deal. I like seeing you in court” Francis was reluctant but had him sit in the second row anyways for moral support

Again, he did everything right. Arthur was criticizing the defense in his head ‘you dolt, you’re talking too much. It’s giving Francis the upper hand’. Of course he wanted Francis to win. Even as a defense attorney himself, he knows a guilty face when he sees one. He’s once again shocked when Francis loses

This time he notices how his hands shake, clenching and unclenching. There’s tension in his shoulders, the mask of confidence gone from his face. He was fighting to suppress a frown, swallowing around the lump of guilt in his throat

Francis apologized to his clients when the court was released, hugging them and shaking their hands, promising paperwork in the mail....yadda yadda. Arthur noticed how tired he looked, the way his shoulders now sagged in defeat

“You did great out there love” “I don’t need your pity, Arthur” “I’m not pitying you. You did everything right” “Apparently not”

Arthur led him to the parking lot, cupping his cheeks when they were out of the public eye “I know how it feels to lose something big like this. It stings, I know. However, it isn’t the end of the world”

“‘It isn’t the end of the world’? Are you kidding me? You’ll never-! Forget it. I’m going home” “Francis? We were-“ “I don’t care about lunch” and with that, he got in his car and sped off, tires screeching once again

Arthur is invited over for dinner later on, Francis apologizes for the way he reacted and Arthur assures him that it was no big deal. He expresses his emotions differently than Arthur does and he is still getting used to it! And this is Francis’s first relationship since Jeanne so he’s still re-learning how to open up about more serious or intense feelings. There’s a learning curve for them both.

So I also I think I’m gonna talk about Jeanne again cause I WAS gonna have a single post dedicated to her effect on Fran and Art’s relationship but I think lll....Just go over it here. There is a small fic at the end but I can’t even really call it that, it’s 2 paragraphs of text lol so yeah :)

More under the cut cause this is getting long and I feel bad clogging your dashes :0

So Art knew about Jeanne before he really knew Francis personally. Before he goes up against prosecutors, he asks Eliza about them and their argument styles, stuff like that. She advised him to stay away from murder trials if Fran managed to get his hands on one and since he didn’t know about Jeanne he was like ‘pfftt what? You think I can’t take him?’ And she was like ‘No...He can’t take you’ oh...

Eliza told him like...The bare minimum. Francis’s girlfriend was killed behind a small party store and he was the one who discovered her body. That’s all he knew about it

But when he and Fran started to get serious relationship-wise Francis decided to sit him down to have a talk with him, pouring his heart out to him after a long, draining day at the courthouse:

// Uhhhh tw for the rest for death mention and description of finding Jeanne after her death. Like...blood and all so if that makes you uncomfortable: this is your warning :0 //

“We dated for five years. From eight grade to twelfth...It was like we were joined at the hip. We were always together wether it be baking in the kitchen, studying at the library, going to the movies or attending church camp. We did it all together. Hell...In highschool, we were voted ‘cutest couple’ every year. She was my date for every school dance and she would have been my prom date too if... If she had lived” Francis choked out a sad laugh “She had the most beautiful dress picked out and I had a suit to match. She was so excited about it...”

“That day was my nightmare. I relive that day over and over again in my dreams, thinking about everything I could have done to prevent that outcome. I should have taken her to the store earlier. I should have gone in with her. I shouldn’t have answered the phone and gotten distracted when my friend called. She was in there for forty minutes just to grab some streamers and a bag of candy for a piñata... When I went in to look for her she wasn’t there. I looked around, called her name, called her phone...no answer. The cashier helped me look too as I started getting worried. In the bathrooms, the stock room, the janitors closet, behind the refrigerators...All that was left was the rear exit. She didn’t go out there right? No...that was unlike her...” tears started to slowly make their way down his cheeks “When we pushed the door open, I remember seeing the pool of blood right there on the ground and thinking it was just a puddle. How wrong was I. My legs moved on their own, I rounded the corner and there she was. Her hair was covered in blood from the gash across her temple, her favorite floral blouse ripped and dirty. Her purse was gone. She was just laying there on the dirty, cold asphalt” Francis shook his head, rubbing his face as the memory replayed once more

“Out of the corner of our eyes, the cashier and I saw the perpetrator and he chased him down, catching him and sitting on him until the police arrived. I called them...I don’t even remember making the call but I distinctly remember them telling me not to touch her- not to mess with the ‘evidence’. I didn’t listen. I sat in the pool of blood and held her until the ambulance arrived, petting her hair as she slowly went cold in my arms...Praying that just maybe she’d make it. They were too late. I was too late.”

“What was it all for, you ask? That evil son of a bitch wanted her money. She only had $10 on her that day. He killed her over $10! And after all of my pain, her family’s suffering, that fucker got to walk free after two years? Two years! It isn’t fair at all. I don’t mean to ramble too much but before you and I become anything too serious I just- I need you to know about her. She made me who I am today, she’s the reason I practice law, she’s always here with me” he clutched his cross necklace in his shaky hand “Just because I still love her does not mean I love you any less, Arthur. I will always be here for you but at the same time, I will be there for her. I’ll still visit her grave and her parents...I’ll have her picture on the mantle...”

Arthur reached out to rest a hand on the blond’s arm. This was a new side of Francis he hadn’t seen before. Sure he knew about Jeanne by now, he had seen her picture in Francis’s apartment. He knew the other took the two hour trip up north to visit Jeanne’s grave and her family every other month. He knew she was important to him but he had never heard the full story like this before. He truly didn’t know the extent of the damage that day had done “I understand, dear. If Jeanne is important to you, she’s important to me. She’ll always have a place here with us” he assured, pulling Francis in to hug him against his chest to let him cry “I don’t think I can begin to express how badly I feel for you. But you can always confide in me, I’ll be here because I lo-like you a lot. I want you to be open with me. This...is a lot to bottle up” Francis nodded and wiped his eyes as Arthur brushed his curls out of his face “If it isn’t overstepping any boundaries, maybe I could come up north with you next time you go to visit her?”

“I...I think I’d like that. I’ve already told her and her family about you. I’m sure they’d love to meet you”

———

Well I hope that wasn’t bad! I haven’t written in a fic format in uhhh hehe a year or so so...yeah! Anyways! Yup! That’s all for now :) ❤️ thanks for reading this far if y’all did!!!!

((Looking back I hate the formatting of the ficlet thingy but tbh there’s not much I can do about it now :) ))

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi! So your oc Lila is dating SE Saeran but is she also dating Ray & Grave? :o (if not, I was wondering what her relationship with them is like!)

A reminder of what the boys look like in the headspace. 

Lila isn’t in a relationship with them at first. Ray and Grave need time to adjust to living in this world again. Ray woke up in a world where he wasn’t around at all and he had been wiped from it. There was no sign that he had ever lived in this bunker and it stressed him out. It was like he was intruding on Saeran’s new and better life without him. He spent the first few times that he woke up trying to see and learn what he could about this place. He was petrified of Saeyoung and had struggle being near him without feeling himself panic. The only reason that he’d kept control of himself was Lila. 

Before and after he revealed himself to her, she had always treated him with a great amount of kindness and respect. He never knew what it felt like to have a friend and she treated him... unlike anyone. Even if she didn’t know who he was at first. She became his first real friend, he’ll tell you that. He slowly let himself trust Seven’s two partners, Minji and Judas, but Lila was the one that he felt like he could truly trust because Saeran trusted her without hesitation. She smiled at him and never once judged him. She saw worth in him when he felt like he was a menace. 

Ray doesn’t realize that he’s got stronger feelings for her for quite some time, actually. They’re just friends for quite some time. She’s the one that noticed that he had an interest in photography and exploring that, even though Ray felt like it was wrong of him to do that when the subject of... photography is something that can bother Saeran. She gave him an outlet to do it. 

She showed him that it was okay for him to want to do things that the others didn’t want to try. Like, Grave had already taken up music as his hobby at that point, and Ray had relegated himself to only cleaning and cooking. Why is it that he shouldn’t do things that he likes? They share a lot of the same interests, too, both in photography and with cute stuff. Lila spends a lot of time helping Ray find things that he’d prefer to wear (she does that with all of them, clothes can help you feel more comfortable in your own skin; Grave isn’t allowed to dye their hair nor is Ray, because that stuff is fried and Saeran wants to let it rest, so clothes are what they can do).

That’s why most of his wardrobe is pink, cottagecore, and soft. He likes those textures. Ray spends a lot of time with Lila, and it feels right. He likes that they have a friendship that’s so strong and faithful. It’s just... one day he realizes that when he looks at her, he’s thinking about more than platonic cuddling and hand-holding. He starts thinking about what it would feel like to kiss her and what it may feel like to be able to do what Saeran does with her, but he doesn’t want to upset her, or Saeran, or anyone else. He keeps it balled up. That’s how he deals with his problems. 

The only reason that comes clean to her is that he tries to isolate himself and it backfires on him. He feels ashamed of himself for having feelings for her when she’s dating Saeran. He’s supposed to help Saeran, not do something like this. It takes a lot of talking with Saeran for him to... feel okay with it. Saeran’s not very angry with him. Saeran’s not like how he used to be, and he understands why Ray would be drawn to her. She’s got a strong heart, even if she’s a little different than how she was when they first met. He has learned that he can trust Ray, and he tells Ray that as long as Lila is okay with it, he can talk to her about his feelings. 

That takes a bit of talking with Saeran and Lila about it, though. Lila is surprised by the revelation but she’s not upset with him. She’s flattered that someone else likes her like that. It’s a first for her. She’s fond of him as well, but she didn't want to rush him or scare him. She knew that he had a crush but she didn't want to make him upset. 

So, they quietly start a relationship as well, but it’s different than how she is with Saeran, of course. They’re different people. Most of the time, they’re just curled up together on the couch watching movies, working in the garden, or baking together. They don’t need to go out and do wild things, they just enjoy each other’s company. With Saeran, they’re always together but they’re much more expressively tied together. They don’t need words. With Ray, Lila has to take the lead often and remind Ray that she likes him. It just feels right. 

Now, if we’re talking about Grave...

That’s another story entirely, and that’s even more intense. You see, Grave was around when they were in Mint Eye together. Grave is the one that blurred the lines with Unknown whenever something dangerous happened. Grave is the one with the memory of the worst moment in Mint Eye; Spoiler Alert for Petunia, the main Assistant AU fic: Wisteria rushes into the room at the last minute to try and stop Unknown from shooting V, but she gets shot instead on accident. Nobody knows this, but Grave is the one that flooded to the surface at that moment as Saeran overloaded. 

He’s the one that pulled the trigger. But, both Saeran and he shares this memory... and neither of them knows for sure who really pulled the trigger, though, Grave said he did. That’s actually why Grave woke up. Saeran fears hurting someone. He fears hurting her again. Even though she’s forgiven him and understood why that happened. Grave could feel the anger... he can remember his anger. He wants to burn everything down and he nearly lashes out to blame Saeyoung for what happened when he wakes up. He blames him for that. He won’t say outright what the trigger was to him wanting to lash out, but there’s a hint. 

Lila is the one that tells him that he has a right to be angry. She’s the first person to tell him that it’s okay to be pissed off. Anger isn’t a bad thing, he just can’t go and hurt others because of it. He can be angry, but he’s only hurting himself by doing this. He clearly wants to protect Saeran, but hurting the ones that he cares about won’t help. So, Grave grits his teeth knowing that she’s right. He’s very intense with her, honestly, very much so at first. He says that he tolerates her because she’s the only person in that house with sense. He’s seen her angry, and he’s seen her spiteful. He knows that she understands him... if only just a little. 

She suggests that he tries new things to even himself out. He decides to pick up music again, it was something that the Savior let him do when he needed to go and shift his focus. He’ll often come and sit in her workroom to practice since he hates prying questions from Saeyoung, Minji, or Judas. She doesn’t ask, she just lets him exist. Lila actually likes listening to him, he’s very talented and quite a fast learner. There’s something about the way that he plays that makes her rather emotional. She never comments on his music unless he asks, but she’s very honest with him about it. 

He chides her often and tells her that she’s gotten too soft, he wants to see her call him out for missing a note. You see, Grave pushes Lila’s buttons. He wants to see her crack. He wants to see how hard he can push this girl who wants to play nice. It’s intense. Grave is someone that pokes at a lion in a cage for fun, to be honest. They bicker a lot. Grave likes to debate and he likes pushing her back, the Lila in the SE endings is easier to make angry. She pushes back, and honestly? The tension between the two of them during those arguments is far too strong. I mean, it’s obvious he likes her but he’s acting like a bully who pulls your hair on the playground. And, after she opens up with Ray and starts dating him as well, that leaves Grave out of the loop.

He’s angry about it but he doesn’t know how to express it without doing things like, “You’re mine too! It’s not fair that they get all your attention when I deserve time with you too!” and he insults Ray, and she won’t have that. They get into a small argument and it turns into one of those things where you’re pinned against the wall and you just wind up kissing because there are so so many emotions in that room. By the time either one of them realizes what’s happening, it’s too much for Grave. He sinks back out of the front for a while. 

He has this internal struggle of: Why the fuck did I do that? Why the fuck didn’t I do it sooner? What the hell are these feelings? Basically, a repeat of what goes on in the latter days of Another Story, we all know the song and dance. Lila, of course, is honest with Saeran and Ray about what happened, and they’re not upset. They’re more upset that Grave blew her off like that and won’t even talk it out. It takes a little while for Grave to open up to her. 

It mostly takes Lila being honest with her feelings for him to open up. He doesn’t want to be the first and he doesn’t want to look weak. So, she has to frame it as her needing him in a sense. She gets it. His pride is fragile and he doesn’t know how to be in a relationship. So, she opens that dialogue with him and offers to give him a chance to try this out. With Grave, it’s like a heated discussion about things. They’re always involved in that, or they’re discussing the finer points of something without mincing words. He just enjoys being close to someone that doesn’t overwhelm him. 

Grave isn’t always touchy-feely. The most that he does for quite a while is simply kiss her when he wants affection. He doesn’t know that he can ask for hugs or hold her hand. He’s not Ray or Saeran, you know? She gets the hint and often does the first move with him, to ensure that he knows that she understands what he wants. Time spent listening to the other work in silence is common for them. 

So, she does wind up in a relationship with Grave and Ray but it’s not happening in a single day. 

I can talk about her friendship with Su-Jin if you’d like to ask about that as well, but that’s just fluff because he’s a kid and she looks out for him like a big sister would. She dotes on him a lot, ruffling his hair and letting him know that he is doing his best. She’s the one that does his hair, actually. If you’ve seen what I drew for how they see themselves in the headspace, you’ll notice that Su-Jin has some rabbit clips. Lila gave those to him! That’s just wholesome fluff that they all deserve. 

[muilkyu]

Treasure's Types of Dates

🐷 Hyunsuk

"This would look so good with the new shoes I got last week." Hyunsuk gushes while picking up a pair of shades.

"Hyunsuk, that's amazing, but my feet hurt now. Can we leave now?" You whine. 

"Just one more store babe. I saw this dress the other night that would look adorable on you," he says. Then he walks away, spotting a different pair of shades that he just needs.

Thrifting dates are a must for both of you

You both drag each other to underground fashion shows when you can

If you are staying home you decide to have a runway date with both of you just playing around with different types of styles 

For lazy nights it's just face masks and a Netflix movie party

🐼 Jihoon

"Tilt your head to the left!" Jihoon yells from across the field of wildflowers he's crouched down eyes squinted holding his camera trying to get a good picture, "Extend your foot. A little more! Okay perfect!" 

The sky is a beautiful orange shade that compliments the wildflowers and your sundress. Jihoon was right about this being the perfect place for a photo. 

"Okay. You look gorgeous. Come look," He says again. You make your way over to him looking at the photo. He really does have a talent for photography. "These are my best ones yet. I don't know if it's the sun or the model I should be staring at more."

Jihoon likes to visit places where you can get a pretty picture

He finds the best cafes for dates. Even though he wants a picture before you can eat which can take forever

You often travel outside of Seoul to see even more of Korea

You got to Busan often for your dates just spending a day walking around and enjoying the city

🐯 Yoshi

"If you fall I will catch you."

"I trust you, but I also can't take the chance of that happening," You say placing a foot on the skateboard. It's staying still for right now, but any second it also could move forward, "Just hold my hands and guide me." 

Yoshi was 100% determined to teach you how to skate. Even though you told him you had no interest in skating. When he told you he wanted to teach you his face lit up so you agreed.

The type that wants to share his hobbies with you so that's usually your date idea 

Yoshi likes to make you laugh on dates 

You don't do too many dates at home unless you are playing a game or something

Sometimes you spend time helping him make art which leads to a big mess and paint staining both your cheeks and clothes

🐨 Junkyu

"We have been here before," you point out as Junkyu lays out a blanket on the grass.

"I know, but it gets even prettier every time we come back." He says laying down on the blanket.

"Don't you think we should go somewhere else next time? We have been to the Bank river on just about half of our dates."

Junkyu shakes his head patting the blanket, "Nope. Now let's lay down and watch the clouds."

Not the best at planning dates at all

You can tell he tries however so you let it slide

Dates are usually more relaxed than exciting

When you want to have full-on fun he makes you do something 'crazy' aka roller coasters

🐹 Mashiho

"Bend your elbow a bit more so you can aim properly," Mashiho says pushing your wrist back.

"I won't make it either way." 

Mashiho smiles, "Exactly why you have me as a teacher. Now bend your knees and shoot." 

You do as he says. You watch as the ball hits the back of the rim and then slowly falls into the basket. 

"You did it! I told you I was a great teacher."

Dates with Mashiho are always playful

You end up either playing a game outside or shopping for cute toys and plushies around Seoul

You pick up hobbies together that interest you both 

You rarely go out to eat or order food for dates, but when you are getting food you stop at a bakery for sweets

🦁 Jaehyuk

"We will take whatever the chef recommends," Jaehyuk tells the Waiter. He's decided to bring you to a very fancy restaurant, definitely one that you don't deserve to be at, but he insisted. 

"This is all so amazing Jae." You say looking around. You're sitting right next to the window which allows you to look out into the Seoul nightlife.

"I know right. I've always wanted to eat here and now I can with you it makes it all that more special."

Fancy dates. At nice restaurants and cafes. 

He likes to pamper you when you go out together so he doesn't hold back

All of the money he has saved up goes towards making you happy

A true romantic at heart he loves to spoil you and make you feel loved

🤖 Asahi

"Which color should I use for the flowers?" You ask digging through the pencil bag of markers. 

"Why are you adding flowers on my self-portrait?" Ashai questions. He's still sketching he's very focused on his drawing. 

"I know, but I went above and beyond and gave you a background. I should get extra points." 

He chuckles at that remark, "I'm highly doubtful you can beat me, but you should do pink."

Homeboy dates 

You end up trying to cook homemade pizza which turns out horribly so you just order in

One time he built a fort and you snuggled inside with a movie marathon and hot chocolate 

🦊 Yedam

"We should get green tea and a banana nut muffin," Yedam suggests as he looks over the menu. You're at your favorite cafe that's just down the street from your dorm. Yedam suggested you have a study date today which is exactly what you agreed on. 

"I want a muffin, but order a different drink. I'm not in the mood for tea." 

"Okay," he circles the option on the menu and sets it aside. A worker will walk past soon and pick it up. He unzips his bookbag pulling out a binder and a workbook ready to work, "What are you going to study?"

"I think I am going to start on my Language Arts report. I just need to decide on a topic." You say pulling your laptop out from your tote bag. 

Yedam smiles, "I can help you with that."

Study dates happen often because grades are important to you both

Sometimes you end up at a Karaoke bar because you would be a fool to not love his voice

You walk around in parks often just looking at the scenery and enjoying nature

🐰 Doyoung

"Are you sure you should be adding so much salt?" 

"I'm only adding a little bit. Trust me It Will taste amazing." Doyoung smiles. 

"After your strawberry jam disaster, I don't think I should trust you." You say looking down into the pot at the bright red liquid boiling. 

Shrugging off the comment Doyoung reaches for the sesame oil adding a teaspoon, "It will taste fine. Now can you please set the table?" He pushes you towards the table so you leave him to his work.

Doyoung is a wildcard for dates

At times he will bring you to a restaurant for a nice dinner

At other times he will insist on cooking something

Sometimes he finds really weird places for dates such as going to a token food market or he books a ceramics class

One time he tries to teach you a dance one can only imagine how that went

🐏 Haruto

"So what do you have planned for me today?" You ask pulling off your crossbody bag hanging it on your chair. 

"I was thinking we should watch a horror movie." He says. 

You laugh, "No seriously what are we gonna do?" 

"I am serious we should watch a foreign film together and eat popcorn." 

"Are you sure this is a good idea? The last time we watched one you wanted to be the knight in shining armor, but I had to walk you home." You point out recalling the memory from a few months ago. 

"I promise I can handle it. Let's pop some popcorn."

Spoiler Alert: You only made it 15 minutes into the movie before you had to turn it off. You ended up watching Wreck-It Ralph instead.

Haruto doesn't really plan for dates be just goes with the flow

Most nights you just enjoy the presence of each other talking for hours 

Haruto seems quiet but when he is comfortable he loves to sit and talk with the people around him

🐺 Jeongwoo

"Why did you tell me to wear pants?" You ask as you meet Jeongwoo. 

He just smiles, "With what I have planned you'll be happy you wore pants." 

-

"You're not going to win!" You shout while running after Jeongwoo. He's decided to bring you to an indoor jumping park. The floor is filled with trampolines and there are sections for different games. 

He has a head start already making it to the jumping area, "Hurry up. I want to beat you in dodgeball."

Jeongwoo has a lot of energy so most of the time he has you moving around when you meet to go out. 

Sometimes you're screaming your lungs out on a roller coaster other times you're racing him just to see who will win

When you want to just stay home your still moving around either just singing and dancing till you can't anymore or eating ice cream and watching YouTube

🐮 Junghwan

"There is a zombie behind you!" Junghwan shouts. He's right next to you, but he still feels the need to shout. 

"Kill it more me I'm still smelting the iron!" 

He shakes his head, "No you do it I have to go look for more diamond." 

"Wow, you're not gonna protect me from a zombie. I'm gonna take all the diamonds and leave you then." You say turning your character around to kill the zombie. 

"I was just kidding. I'll kill any monster that tries to hurt you."

Video Game dates at home 

You both enjoy taking each other down or working together to meet a goal in a game

When your not gaming for a date you just walk around Seoul till you find something fun

Him being from Iksan he's only really looked at bits and pieces so you just walk to you find interesting shops and stores

-

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed!

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Open Heart: Second Year

I don’t think I’m saying anything that hasn’t already been said before but this is bugging me like crazy. I don’t use Tumblr very often but I don’t know anyone else who plays Choices, so here I am (I guess spoiler alert for those who haven’t played Open Heart).

Open Heart book 1 is one of my favourite books, possibly even my most favourite. I genuinely couldn’t decide between Bryce, Raf and Ethan. I switch between the male and female MC and I’ve been able to give them different personalities. The book had strong writing and a coherent plot with probably three main storylines: Patient X, Panacea Labs, and Mrs Martinez, which all tied together beautifully at the end. Even all our patients came back in the last chapter.

And then Open Heart: Second Year. Where to start.

Obviously Ethan is our boss, mentor and colleague so he will have a vital role in the story, but why push the other LIs aside? Why can’t Bryce romancers steal a few minutes in the hospital corridors where Bryce gives you a flirty wink and a pat on the butt? Why can’t Jackie romancers sneak into her room every so often?

And let’s get started on Rafael. First of all....what the fuck?

I love a little bit of angst so I wasn’t initially too mad when Sora was introduced (actually I think it made me want Rafael more, because apparently I only like men I can’t have...and I’ve gone off Ethan because he would be too easy). But there was none. Sora appeared in chapter 2, where it’s described as ‘stings a little to watch’, but doesn’t appear again until the baseball game in chapter 8 where they cheer for Edenbrook a couple of times. The only kind of ‘angst’ Rafael romancers got was dancing with Raf at the music festival where Sora is briefly mentioned and MC closes their eyes and listens to Raf’s heartbeat (which was a sweet moment, to be fair). Are you seriously telling me that none of their friends acknowledged that he and MC used to date? That they wouldn’t have asked if MC was OK at least once? That they would have invited Rafael over to the apartment without giving MC a heads up? And when PB was asked about this they gave some crap about making things realistic and exploring the mature themes of a medical drama. If Open Heart were realistic, MC would have been fired halfway through book 1 (one of the dialogue options with Ethan in book 1 chapter 6 actually leads him to say ‘consider yourself lucky you’re even getting a next time’) but NO, we get ‘realism’ by losing a beloved love interest and character that people have grown invested in and spent money on, and then completely waste the opportunity for drama.

And then there’s chapter 10.

And going back to realism, they couldn’t think of anything else apart from vengeance and terrorism? Not, I don’t know, just a highly infectious patient which is probably more likely to happen within a hospital?

I do think that chapter 11 is one of the strongest chapters of Second Year, and the book has got stronger since then. But knowing that it might have ended with the death of Rafael leaves a VERY bitter taste. I’m very glad they rewrote it...but what on earth was the thought process behind that?!? Going back to realism again, if they wanted drama and emotions, why not have Kyra die of surgical complications? At least we’d have been somewhat prepared for that as she was introduced as being a cancer patient, and there would have been more angst (especially for Bryce romancers) as he would have had the guilt of not being able to save her when he promised MC he would, even if it was out of his hands. But sure, have Rafael caught in an assassination attempt, that makes sense. And it still doesn’t really excuse Sora, I mean, imagine the pain if he was still an LI and he and MC were saying their last goodbyes in that room??

I was happy with the rewrite to chapter 11 and the kiss between Raf and MC in chapter 12 was beautiful. And PB have actually made something of an effort to include Raf in the rest of the story; I was half-expecting to not see him again until the obligatory 30-diamond scene in the last chapter.

Chapter 12 was so emotional and it was so clear that each character and LI was struggling with the events. And the end of chapter 12 and the beginning of chapter 13 made it very clear that MC was terrified of returning to work. MC has butterflies in their stomach as they walk in to Edenbrook and then...nothing. That was that. As if they just needed to face their fear and they’d be alright again. Now I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure PTSD isn’t as simple as that? It would go far deeper than ‘Oh, I’m alright, just taking it one day at a time’. And the narration specified that MC was uncomfortable at the idea of going back into the diagnostics room where the attack happened, but chapter 14 we’re back in there without batting an eyelid.

Someone (I don’t know who...if you’re reading this let me know!!) pointed out that Danny and Bobby could have been mentioned at the gala...there could have been some kind of ‘in memory’ and donors could have been guilt tripped by MC. But no, not a peep. I keep thinking that we could have had Baz, Zaid and Inez (I miss her) catching up with MC and asking how they’re doing and how worried they were. If you’re going to the gala with Raf there could have been a highly emotional scene between them about what happened in the room. Raf alludes to it in a line of dialogue but there was potential for so much more.

And how about the fact that a group of doctors cured the incurable OVERNIGHT and it worked without proper testing? NO ONE has mentioned that since! Surely there would be papers being published and deeper research being conducted now that lives aren’t on the line? We had a whole chapter about how a research grant would save the hospital but now...nothing?! Ed Farrugia hasn’t been mentioned since chapter 12. No one in the team is talking about how it was June’s idea to convince him to switch to Edenbrook. Surely that would be a huge elephant in the room? Wouldn’t she at least say something like ‘I never wanted this to happen, we went too far’? Something?!

The fact that there has been no follow-up to the attack suggests to me that it was purely for shock value. They just wanted drama and didn’t care about keeping it grounded. And assuming that Rafael died in the original, that’s more upsetting. I can’t believe that he was the least profitable character in the history of Choices ever. And even if he was, was it because no one bought his diamond scenes, or because he didn’t have diamond scenes to buy? I romanced Bryce in my first playthrough, but I remember choosing to assist on his surgery without even thinking about it, I didn’t even look at the diamonds it would cost. So a beloved character would have been killed, and it would have brought nothing to the story.

Furthermore, Sora would never have been explained. Rafael almost explained in chapters 2 and 12 but both times MC cut them off. If Rafael was originally going to die in chapter 11, Rafael romancers would never have got that explanation, unless they were to hear it from Sora themselves afterwards (doubtful). And it’s highly unlikely it actually will be explained. PB will probably say ‘it’s up to you what happened!’ like they’re doing us a favour by creating our own headcanon, but to me that’s just lazy writing; they wanted to write off Rafael and they didn’t care how they did it.

If Second Year hadn’t opened with a funeral scene we might never have been clued into what was going to happen and demanded a rewrite.

Aside from that, there’s Esme. She’s introduced as breaking Dr Thorne’s hand and then has to diagnose and treat him in chapter 10. Depending on your choices, he gets surgery and thanks Esme for saving his life and apologises for the bar incident. Otherwise she doesn’t run further tests and he messes up a surgery which eventually forces him to resign. And then Esme gets her plotline with Levi. If Dr Thorne wasn’t her main plotline, what was the point in introducing him? It’s another storyline that had huge potential--sexual harassment in the workplace, for example--but had little to no payoff and fell off the radar. If PB wanted to introduce MC and Esme the night before they both started working then MC could have just literally walked into Esme and either apologised, asked if she was OK, or told her to watch where she was going, and that would have affected how she greeted you in the hospital the next day. But no, we get this storyline hinted at which is then written off and replaced. Maybe it was a rewrite, I just don’t see why it would have been.

Like I said before, the main storylines of book 1 all tied together in the end, but the storylines we’ve had in book 2 have just felt like completely separate events, just a bunch of stuff that happens and is quickly forgotten. I think the balance of the LIs has been better since chapter 11; even when the gang went to Vegas, Raf romancers got a quick phone call with him. As a Raf romancer, I appreciated that, and it only goes to show how PB could accommodate for all LIs whilst having Ethan integral as our boss (see before, bonus scenes for Jackie romancers sneaking into each others rooms, bonus scenes for Bryce romancers having flirty interactions in the corridors). 

There is such a difference in dialogue if you’re playing Ethan’s romance route or not. I had him stay behind in chapter 11 and I thought it came across as a sweet conversation between a mentor and his protégée. But the other LIs don’t have anything close to that level of detail. Ethan romancers get pretty close to being official in chapter 17 but I’ve heard Jackie and Bryce didn’t get that. And Raf romancers didn’t even get caught sneaking back into the gala. I’m still holding out hope that book 2 will end with all LIs saying ‘I love you’ and being official with MC, but the inequality makes me sad.

I might have had some more to say, but this post has been longer than I intended and I don’t remember what that might have been. I really wanted to like Open Heart: Second Year. Book 1 will always be a favourite, but book 2? It’s like going from the classic era of The Simpsons where Homer was a lazy dumbass but genuinely loved his family, to the modern era of The Simpsons where nothing makes sense and Homer is a straight-up jerk. I just hope that, if we get book 3, they would have learned from their mistakes and Open Heart can be saved. It doesn’t deserve this.

Well, that’s my two cents. Sorry for the long post. If you got this far, thanks for reading.

[infinites-chaser]

dark night fireworks | mlqc | lucien/mc | dreams and memory

spoilers for ch.13 and somewhat inspired by ch.16

warning for drinking and vague + non-explicit sexual content

“Lucien,” you whisper, as if speaking his name aloud will somehow make it real.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. The only thing that matters is this moment. This moment a million times over. And what’s a moment in a dream if you make yourself believe it’s true?

‘oh, love, even if I wake up and it all disappears and becomes a mess

oh, love, I’ll wait for this night again’

xii.

Once, when you were young, you caught a butterfly, trapping its delicate wings between your hands. Most of your childhood memories have faded to sepia and tones of grey, but this you remember in vivid color. It comes to you now in fragments, like a painting ripped to shreds: The butterfly's wings, bright yellow blurs that tickle your palms. Your father's horror. The warm wind, his panicked scolding, and the wide blue sky.

You remember him telling you that trapped things, once let go, are never the same after. He told you catching the butterfly crushed its wings, and it would never fly straight again. You cried, you think, as you often did, and opened your hands.

You can't remember the rest. Did the butterfly emerge from your finger prison, its cocoon? Did it fly away? Did it fly straight and true?

Memory is reconstructive. If you reach for the pieces enough times, your mind will build its own answer.

But, now, the truth: the butterfly was already dead. It had been dead since you first snatched it from where it danced in the golden spring sky.

When you laid your palms flat, the butterfly's bright wings had stirred once and then fell still. You cried. To this day, you're still not sure why you don't remember this, your Schrodinger's butterfly. In your hands, it had become a lesson from your father, something with the possibility of being not quite dead. In your memory, it becomes immortal, that butterfly you remember entrapping but can never vividly picture flying free.

i.

The bar is not pink, as its name, The Peony Pavilion, might suggest. Its walls are a deep purple that fades upward to dark blue, then a black which stretches across the ceiling, uninterrupted save by tiny pinpricks of light. The floor, by contrast, is a softly glowing grey, carpeted and plush, muffling even the heaviest of footfalls of more intoxicated customers or louder, untrained personnel.

It is crowded normally, seats filled with patrons, troubled dreamers, and drunks. On busy nights, a spiraling chandelier will descend from the endless ceiling, shimmering with the colors of sunset: yellow, pink, and white. The air will still-- the frequent visitors know what’s coming, they tell their newer compatriots to be quiet, to wait.

A woman will unfold herself from a crouched position in the half-light, hair like unbound midnight, her dress a pure sparkling white. On cue, the patrons will clap and cheer, but she will gaze past them all, her eyes worlds away, caught up in a vision only she can see. She'll sweep a bow. They'll all fall silent.

The clock will strike twelve, and the lights of the chandelier will dim to a shade of purple, a twilight hue a few hours softer than the color of the walls.

The woman will open her mouth and begin to sing.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the bar’s doors are closed. Only the bartender stands behind the counter. All seats sit empty, save two.

xi.

He catches your attention from across the bar. (It’s easy. You’re the only two inside.)

One stolen glance and you're lost in his eyes again, like a moth to a dark flame. You're reminded, briefly, of the sleepless nights you once spent following him through the city, a lonely journey down moonlit alleys, into the cinema, into bars. They're nights from a time you know you can't return to, a time you, even after everything, still hold dear.

You read about the primacy effect one time in a psychology textbook, following along for a few pages over his shoulder before you stifled a yawn. He’d marked the page and closed the book, and turned to caress the top of your head with a gentle smile.

The study those pages had described surfaces in your mind now, as he raises his glass and drinks, dark eyes never leaving yours. The scientists had split their participants into two groups, and given them the same list of traits in different orders, one presenting a fictional man with his flaws first and strengths last, the other, the reverse. They'd then asked each group for their impression of the man.

Despite being given the exact same listed traits, they had opposite responses. The first, remembering most clearly his flaws, thought him a terrible person. The second saw him simply as human, and sympathized with those natural flaws.

At the time, you hadn't understood it. You couldn't think of how it related, out of the study and academia, back to everyday life. Of course now, you do. You're in his experiment. (You're in the second group, presented strengths first, flaws last.)

You can't help but continue to stare, your traitorous heart twisting with endlessly conflicting feelings at the sight of slim fingers you still remember holding, and the elegant panes of his face that you’ll never forget.

ii.

He'd explained primacy again, after you'd watched Memento, a movie he'd called one of his favorites. You don't know anymore if that was true. You don't think you know a single true thing about him. But still, you remember it. His words. The movie. The Polaroid. Don’t believe his lies.

The movie starts centered around the main character, and it’s intensely subjective, he’d said. We see him and his world through his eyes. We learn the details of the plot along with him, even as he forgets, and by the time the movie tells us he’s not as good of a person as we’d like to remember and we finally step out of his head and question his character, it’s too late. We're back at the start. A beginning at the end, an ending at the beginning.

The movie’s a bit like those classic math puzzles, he had said, and had chuckled at your groan. We begin with two trains going in opposite directions towards each other: one from the past, in black-and-white, going forward, one, in color, from the present going back, and they meet somewhere in the grey in between, at the start of the movie. Only, we’re introduced to his positive perception of his present self first.

So we call the movie’s arguable villain hero, up until the movie’s end. Just as you would like to think of him not as Ares, as a villain, up until this dream ends.

xi.

You know you’re dreaming when you blink, and he’s gone from the shadowy corner only to reappear right next to you, your name on his lips with a smile.

“Lucien,” you whisper, as if speaking his name aloud will somehow make the moment real. As if a dream could ever become reality.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. The only thing that matters is this moment. This moment a million times over. And what’s a moment in a dream if you make yourself believe it’s true?

He raises his glass to your lips, a silent invitation.

You meet those dark eyes. You drink.

(A different movie, but. You fall. He's your totem, your ever-spinning top. You wait for the kick.)

iii.

The world shifts and swirls around you. Only he stays steady, awash in a sea of sunset colors and midnight starry lights. You take his hand, your anchor, and he lets you.

Your dress is a soft purple now. Now, you say, since you think it used to be pink, and before that, white. (If the bartender would speak, she'd tell you it looks like the chandelier: dripping in crystals, iridescent, reminiscent of the fading day, the coming night.)

x.

There's an invisible glass wall between you and him. (You don't remember Ares. You don't remember why.)

You press up against it, and it shatters.

iv.

He calls your name, and you surface, dizzy, from your daze.

"Why did you come here?" He asks. His hand's hovering, almost reaching, on the verge of taking your glass away or perhaps tucking an escaped strand of hair behind your ear.

"Why do I do things? Why does anyone do anything?"

You're definitely a little drunk.

"What I do isn't meaningless just because there are things I don't remember," you say, and what you mean is things you've made me forget.

"The world doesn't just disappear when you close your eyes, does it?"

"Memento," he notes with that same gentle, enigmatic smile. "Touché."

Then, musing, quieter:

"So, you remember that night."

"I remember everything."

(You both know that's a lie.)

ix.

(a tangent.)

Once, you asked, waking from the middle of a nightmare to a starless night:

"Daddy, why do I forget so many things?"

Your father held you close without a word. (You weren't expecting an answer.)

Now, you think it suits you, being a girl cut loose in time.

v.

Your head hurts.

You'd ask the bartender for a glass of ice water, but the silent, white-clad woman's gone. In her places stands a gleaming door. Behind the door lies silver stairs.

Your temples throb again, and you think, fresh air. He takes your hand, and you let him. You pass through the doorway together.

viii.

(another tangent.)

A question without a proper answer: what does it mean to forget?

You searched it on the internet for Miracle Finder, found Wikipedia pages on the different types of memory and how your brain wires them all. Each article was long, convoluted, and a little pretentious.

(You gave up.)

Spoiler alert: neuroscientists still don't know.

You asked Lucien. He doesn't, either.

(The beginning of the hypothesis of an answer, buried in words about synapse strengthening and weakening: forgetting is just another word for loss.)

A better question, but one you'll never get a proper answer for: when your memory of someone is erased with Evol, which part of the brain is it affecting? What neural connections are lost, overwritten by the unnatural?

After all, Evol goes beyond the explainable, but it'd be wrong to say it doesn't affect those circuits at all.

A quick lesson that Lucien will never teach you: memory loss isn't like what you see in the movies.

There's many types of memory. You already know the first two: short-term and long-term. The temporary. The eroding. (outside these two-- the already lost)

(Memento's different. In it, he's lost the ability to make new long-term memories. Not quite memory loss. More like he can't feel time.)

Within the eroding are two subtypes: explicit, and implicit, or conscious and unconscious.

First, within explicit:

Semantic memory, our memory of general facts. It's how we familiarize ourselves with the world. (The sky is blue. Grass is green. The city the company headquarters are in is Loveland City.) A knock on the head to important bits involved here, and you won't remember the name of the president or how many cents add up to a dollar, but you'll still remember your childhood.

Episodic memory, the memory of our personal experiences. Many people argue this is the memory that makes you you. Say the amnesia-inducing Evol removes this. You forget an important event (a dream, a nightmare where he was Ares and you still called on him for protection, and he came, he saved you).

There, you say. Question answered. Problem solved.

But wait. The lesson's not over yet. There's still implicit. The unconscious part of your memory. (Freud's favorite.)

Implicit memory contains multitudes. (We'll just focus on a few.)

The important bits: implicit memory stores the memories necessary to learn. Procedural memory covers skills.

Then there's association, and key to association are your emotions. (You'll remember things that make you happy, make you angry, make you sad. You just won't remember why.)

Lastly, priming, also known as pattern completion. (If a puzzle was put in front of you, you'd be able to solve it, if you had before.)

Long story short, memory loss by Evol, if scientific, doesn't wipe them all out. Let's say it just wipes episodic. No more memory of the event. No more memory of the event itself. Let's say the emotions remain. Let's say you're still primed. But we digress.

(Lesson over.)

vi.

You race up the stairs, past pipes, through smoke, and burst onto the roof, giddy, flushed, his hand in yours the whole way. In the night air, your dress shimmers and darkens to a midnight blue, just a touch shy of the black of the silk of his suit.

The roof is wide open and empty, save for a delicate floating canopy of fairy lights. Beyond the rosy glow, vivid colors of fireworks shatter bright against the velvet curtain of night.

He pauses at the sight of the fireworks, the city far below, and you stagger back against him, one hand raised to the sky, laughing, drunk. Neither of you notice when the silver stairway disappears.

You loop your arms around his neck and stare up into his eyes. At first, the light doesn’t reflect off of them and you almost freeze, but he clasps a hand to the small of your back and draws you closer. When you blink up at him again, the dark of his gaze is warmed by the shine of the veil of lights.

“Where are the stars?”

“Shall I go and fetch them for you?”

Before you can respond, he leans in and catches the swell of your lips between his, dark eyes closed.

The first kiss is gentle and teasing, like his words. The second kiss is yours when he pulls back for air and you follow him. The third devours you.

His hands move in opposite directions; one floating up to cup your cheek and draw you in further with a caress, the other creeping down your back, leaving a trail of fire, aroused nerves, in its wake. It settles on the back of one of your thighs, and grips rough, possessive, hard and--

you gasp a single word between stolen breaths,

Lucien.

His name burns stronger than any alcohol on your lips, on his, it consumes you both, and you're glad of it, you're content to go up in flames. Your hands move to match his, to mark him as your own. You think this is perhaps what fireworks feel like, the moment before the end.

(You explode. It's not as pretty as a fireworks display.)

You arch your back against him and you suddenly remember the butterfly, those vivid splinters from your childhood so small they could hardly be called memories. You are not certain of much anymore but you are certain of this: You are his Schrodinger's butterfly, dancing futilely, dead in the palms of his hands.

He pulls away, panting, and you want to, but this time you do not follow. You don't move at all. Trapped things, you hear your father say, voice shaking, the butterfly long gone, once let go, are never the same after.

Your mind doesn't remember, but something in your heart does: this has happened before. He's altered your memory so many times, but you still can't remember to forget him.

(Emotional memory, and now. Priming. Some part of you sees the same pattern fall into place.)

His hand, cold against your flushed cheek moves to cover your eyes, and you know: you won't remember the ending of this, either. You don't try to stop him.

"Go back to sleep. Forget this nightmare."

His voice comes, silky smooth and soft. Sad, you want to think, though you know it can't be.

"What if I wake up, and this isn’t a dream? What if that's the nightmare?"

"Then find your way back here. I'll be waiting."

You close your eyes under his cool fingers, and wake to warm sheets.

In your dream, he's still smiling. You're sure of it.

xx.

You're waiting for someone. Someone's waiting for you. (You aren't sure which it is. You aren't sure who.)

The butterfly's wings flutter in your small child hands, light yellow heartbeats tickling your fingers. The sky is grey. A chill wind blows. Your father is silent, frozen and smiling. Gone.

You remember (or at least you tell yourself you do):

When you opened your palms, the butterfly flew straight. It flew true.

[feelingsforrosie]

Ateez reaction to their crush confessing to them

Seonghwa

Seonghwa wouldn’t be surprised because he already suspected you liked him. Regarding the fact that you two have been friends for a while, you would just accidentally blurt it out while watching a drama together and that’s how your story started.

“Aww y/n, I like you too! Let’s get some food to celebrate this.”

  Hongjoong

Hongjoong honestly didn’t have a clue you liked him as well, since he always thought to himself that you wouldn’t be comfortable with something more than a friendship. Spoiler alert: he was wrong.

When the two of you met up again and you gave him the lyrics to a love song you wrote, he finally understood that you definitely are interested. He would then proceed and quickly take the weight off your shoulders by telling you that he liked you too.

  “I’ve been liking you for quite a while now. I’m so happy you feel the same way!”

  Yunho

Yunho would be kind of surprised because he also planned to confess to you. When you shyly handed him a handwritten note with your feelings written in it, he’d immediately feel very happy, embrace you and tell you that he felt the same way. Yunho would then suggest planning a cute and romantic date to celebrate your love for each other.

  “Y/N, you make me so happy with this. I like you too!”

  Yeosang

Yeosang would turn into a blushing mess after you nervously confessed your feelings to him during the walk to his dorm. He was pretty shy about opening up about his feelings for you, that’s why he felt like the happiest boy on this world when you gained the courage to mention your feelings for each other.

“You can’t imagine how long I’ve waited for this, thank you so much for telling me! Let’s go out on a date soon~”

  San

After you randomly confessed to San during his dance practice, he would joke as if he had known about all of your plans, but then get serious and tell you how grateful he feels for your words and your trust. He knows that it’s not always easy to talk about your true feelings. He really appreciates your courage to do so.

  “Wow, y/n, I’m so proud of you for opening up about your feelings. I like you so much!”

  Mingi

Mingi would have known you had feelings for each other, ever since you went out to an amusement park together and randomly held each other’s hands. He still didn’t know if this was what you really wanted, or if you changed your mind. That’s why he never planned to talk about this occurrence again. What he didn’t know was that you thought the same thing about him, until you couldn’t endure the silence anymore and spoke up about your feelings. You told him that you actually really enjoyed your trip to the amusement park, and you would like to repeat it.

Mingi would immediately hug you and express his feelings for you.

  “I was worried you might not feel the same way, so this is the best news ever!”

  Wooyoung

The two of you were quite confident about your feelings for each other, but no one really considered talking about it. That was until Wooyoung decided to ask you out to a restaurant. At the end of the night out, you decided to finally confess to him. You held his hand and looked him in the eyes while you told him about your feelings. He’d hold you closer and place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

  “I have always felt the same way! You’re so special to me. Thank you so much for speaking up about it.”

  Jongho

You two have been friends since you were kids and always felt some kind of feelings for each other. No one planned to really talk about it, though. You didn’t want to make the situation anymore awkward. That was until you spent a few days off at home, where all of your memories overflowed you. Finally, you decided that it would be the best way to talk to him in a familiar environment.

After your confession, Jongho opened up about his crush on you and you’d end up laughing about your childhood memories.

  “Y/N, I never knew you’re also feeling this connection between us. You make me so happy every single day.”

I hope you enjoyed reading this post. Have an awesome day! :)

- Mary