#the whole spectacle felt like I was in her brain

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

So @taylorswift is the mastermind behind all the phenomenal camera shots right?? Working the angles and blending her live giant self with the background visuals- STUNNING

[inkspiredwriting]

Welcome to the Chaos, Maddie Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I know there are a lot of people who don't see Five as a dad, but the idea of ​​seeing Five as a father, I don't know, I just think it's sweet. Please tell me if you like it, because I have written many little stories with Five's and Y/n's daughter. But if most of you don't like it, I wouldn't post it.

Warnings: None

It was a surprisingly calm afternoon at the Umbrella Academy mansion. Five Hargreeves was in the library, immersed in a thick book about quantum mechanics, while his very pregnant wife, Y/N, lounged on the couch nearby, flipping through a magazine.

Suddenly, Y/N gasped and clutched her belly. "Five!"

Five looked up, immediately alert. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Y/N's eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and excitement. "My water just broke!"

For a moment, Five just stared at her, his brain struggling to process the information. Then, all hell broke loose.

"Okay, okay, we need to get to the hospital," he stammered, jumping to his feet and nearly knocking over a lamp in the process. "Where's the hospital bag? Do we have the car keys? Do we even have gas in the car?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, despite the situation. "Five, calm down! The bag is by the door, the keys are on the hook, and yes, we have gas."

Five rushed around the room, grabbing things at random. "Right, right. Bag, keys, gas... Okay, let's go!"

As they made their way to the front door, they were intercepted by Klaus, who was munching on a bowl of cereal. "Hey, where's the fire?"

"Y/N's water broke!" Five shouted, looking more frazzled by the second.

Klaus's eyes widened in delight. "Oh my god, it's baby time! Everybody, get over here!"

Within minutes, the entire Hargreeves clan had gathered, each sibling contributing their own brand of chaos.

Luther tried to help by carrying Y/N to the car, but ended up banging her head on the doorframe. "Sorry! Sorry!"

Diego insisted on driving, despite his notoriously terrible driving skills. "I've got this! Just get in the car!"

Allison was trying to keep everyone calm, using her power to influence the situation. "I heard a rumor that everyone stayed calm and collected."

Viktor was frantically searching for his camera to document the moment. "This is going to be amazing for the baby book!"

Ben, who was only visible to Klaus, was laughing at the whole spectacle. "This is priceless."

Amidst the pandemonium, Five finally managed to get Y/N into the car. He jumped into the driver's seat, pushing Diego out of the way. "No way you're driving, Diego. I'll do it."

The drive to the hospital was a blur of frantic instructions, deep breathing, and Klaus offering unsolicited advice from the backseat.

"Just think happy thoughts, Y/N! Rainbows and puppies and—"

"Shut up, Klaus!" Five and Y/N shouted in unison.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, the staff took over, guiding Y/N to a room and leaving Five to pace nervously in the waiting area. His siblings were trying their best to be supportive, but their presence only added to his anxiety.

"Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?" Allison asked, trying to make conversation.

Five ran his hands through his hair. "I don't care, as long as they're healthy."

A few hours later, a nurse came out with a big smile. "Mr. Hargreeves? Your wife is asking for you."

Five bolted to the delivery room, his heart pounding. When he walked in, he saw Y/N holding a tiny, wriggling bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. Her face was flushed, but she was beaming.

"Meet our daughter, Maddie," Y/N said, her voice full of love.

Five approached cautiously, as if in a dream. He looked down at the tiny face peeking out of the blanket and felt his heart swell with an overwhelming mixture of pride and love. "She's perfect," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.

Y/N laughed softly. "We did it, Five."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "You did it, Y/N. You're amazing."

Just then, the door burst open and the rest of the Hargreeves family piled in, eager to meet the newest member of the family. There was a chorus of "awws" and "she's so cute!"

Klaus, of course, had the last word. "Well, Maddie, welcome to the madhouse. You're going to fit right in."

Despite the chaos, Five and Y/N couldn't have been happier. They had survived the wildest ride of their lives and come out the other side as a family. And as they looked down at their beautiful baby girl

, they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Five looked around at his siblings, who had formed a noisy, excited circle around little Maddie. Despite their quirks and the constant chaos, he couldn't have imagined a better support system for his daughter.

Y/N, holding Maddie close, turned to Five with a warm smile. "You know, I think Maddie's going to be just fine with all these aunts and uncles watching over her."

Five grinned, finally feeling a sense of calm wash over him. "Yeah, she's going to be one tough kid."

Diego, trying to look serious but failing miserably, pointed at Maddie. "She better be ready to learn some knife-throwing skills."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Diego, she's a baby. Maybe start with something less... hazardous?"

Klaus leaned in close to Maddie, his usual mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Don't listen to them, Maddie. Uncle Klaus is going to teach you all the fun stuff."

Five shook his head, chuckling. "Just remember, if she picks up any bad habits, I'm holding you all responsible."

Viktor, gently patting Maddie's tiny hand, smiled. "She's already got the best parents. The rest of us are just here to spoil her."

As the Hargreeves siblings continued to banter and coo over Maddie, Five took a moment to reflect. Life had thrown so many unexpected challenges their way, but standing here with his family, holding his newborn daughter, he realized just how much they had all grown.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

Five nodded, squeezing her hand. "We have. And it's only going to get better from here."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Y/N, pulling her and Maddie close. In that chaotic hospital room, surrounded by his eccentric family, Five Hargreeves felt a profound sense of peace and contentment. They were a far cry from ordinary, but they were his family. And now, with little Maddie Hargreeves in their lives, the adventure was just beginning.

As they left the hospital, heading home as a new family, Five couldn't help but smile. Despite the madness, despite the challenges, they had made it. And as he looked at his daughter, he knew that together, they could face anything.

"Welcome to the family, Maddie," Five whispered, kissing her forehead. "You're going to love it here."

[sweetcollywobbles]

brain rotting with leon.| leon kennedy

CHUG JUG WITH YOU by leviathan ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• ∞ i realized i can write whatever i want. so have this short, stupid, and terribly written one-shot. leon hates the internet, but loves you. expect updates soon.

₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡. 𓂃

leon truly didn't like the idea of her having access to the internet, especially since he didn't really trust her all that much not to do something stupid. but she had begged and begged to peruse jeff bezos's internet on his phone. the more he declined her access to the world wide web, the more she bugged him about the issue.

frustrated, he came up with a compromise. leon would allow her to scour the internet to her heart's content, but he'd have to supervise her the entire time.

leon thought this to be a great idea. she gets what she wants and he gets more time right next to her. maybe even able to sneak in a cuddle or two.

it would be great.

it would be wonderful.

until it's 1:45 in the morning and she's on tiktok watching some stupid fucking video that he can't even comprehend. and, for whatever reason, she's giggling her ass off at freakbob interrupting a normal video with a phone call. which is baffling to him because she was just absolutely sobbing her eyes out at a video of lost dogs being reunited with their owners.

not to mention all the nonsensical phrases and terms that seem to have become a permanent part of her daily vocabulary.

after watching the spectacle that is the edge rizz dog, for a small period of time, everytime leon needed her to agree on something he had to start the statement with "rizz". after a while, he noticed that she will do it volunterially without needing to be prompted. that also meant he couldn't take her with him through drive thrus anymore because she just started doing it out in public.

not to mention her attention span has now decresed to a whole new level that leon's considering holding up subway surfers gameplay to keep her concentrated as he talks.

every room smells of japanese cherry blossom and she's always asking to drive a boat that she doesn't have. leon has now been addressed as baby girl and kitten while she addresses herself as things like alpha and daddy. in fact, the first time she ever called him kitten, leon felt his body actually buffer.

leon had just gotten home from work, absolutely tired from all the paperwork he mindlessly stared at all day. the pleasant smell of pot roast had wafted its way to the entrance of the home. following it like a cartoon character to a pie, it led him straight to her, standing there by the stove in her pink apron and humming a soft tune while she cooked. whether she liked it or not, the sight of her was the exact remedy that he needed. he slinked his arms around her from behind and hunched over to bury his face in the crook of her neck. just as he began to relax to the sound of her soft melody, she just had to open her stupid mouth to say some stupid thing.

"no worries, kitten. daddy's making you something tasty." she said it so fluently and without skipping a beat, like it was so normal and she just went back to humming. he just slowly raised his head and muttered a small "what?".

leon still isn't sure if she's doing all of this out of revenge or if she was always this…weird. although the videos are strange and a bit annoying at times, he can't help but laugh along with her. because at the end of the day, she's happy, so if he has to play into her little games, he will.

₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡. 𓂃

how does it feel to hold the gyatt of someone you love? rizz.

anywayssss, i believe my inbox is open lol, so if anyone has any feedback or ideas, please let me know!! again, this is all for shits and gigs. xxox

[gazsluckyhat]

Sarah's House *TW* - from this chapter on

Six - Chest Hair

Masterlist

Hey guys! I know I said there'd be consistent updates but apparently my brain doesn't work like that. Chapter six is a lot of talking and some sad things. But its getting good. Get a little banter in this one. I hope you guys enjoy!

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

or

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

Ghost and Gaz have the table set and ready when Sarah makes it downstairs. The food smells amazing and her stomach growls as she walks in, both boys looking over at her. Ghost finds her hand, pulling her to him and kissing her head before pushing her towards a seat.

"Good to know you're hungry." She nods towards Gaz. Starving. She doesn't say it. Doesn't want to admit how hungry she really was. Had wanted to steal the MRE Johnny had offered her on the flight, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Made something simple, easy on your belly we hope." Gaz has such pretty hands, she notices when he sets her plate down. His fingers aren't too small or big, just right and long. Manicured nails showing just how much he actually cared for himself. She wonders what else those pretty fingers were capable of. Shooting? Fighting? Strangling? Fingering? Would he shove them down her throat to shush her while forcing the other ones inside her?

It's not until a hand touches her thigh that she realizes she was staring, or daydreaming. She shoos the thoughts away with the idea they're wildly inappropriate. These men saved her and have agreed to get her back on her feet, nothing more. What she's feeling is normal, she tells herself. Most woman saved like she was develop attraction towards their heroes, but she should not act on it. Plus, she doesn’t even know if her vagina works anymore. Hadn't been used since before she'd went missing. Even then finishing was rare. No, she needed to focus on herself and not the increasing need to frisk the men sitting around her.

"Do you like it?" Ghost and Jesus, everyone else are watching her. She looks down and actually looks at the food. Pasta. Alfredo with what looks like chicken and broccoli. It looks like what she imagines Heaven will look like. She takes a fork full and tastes it. Fuck me. It tastes like what she imagines Gaz tastes' like. Fucking Heaven. She moans, doesn't mean to but the food is euphoric. She hasn't had anything decent in two years. Slop and molded food that only kept her alive and never fed.

"I'll take 'at as a yes." The men are all smiling. Watching her eat being the first step in a long recovery.

Sarah listens to the boys talk as she eats. Her dad chiming in with facts and stories. She finished her first bowl and got another, just listening and watching the people around her. How normal it was. Conversations not pertaining to murders, rape, or torture. How it felt to sit and eat and not be gawked at or have things thrown at you. What it was like to not have food used as a bargaining chip. She enjoyed food before. Loved to try new things. Sushi, BBQ, pasta, anything. The only reason she was as small as she was, was because of her training. Russia had ruined it. Took away the love and smothered it. She ate only because her body screamed for it. Had done horrible nasty things for scraps. Allowed herself to fade to the black and whatever happen, happen. She'd forgotten what it was like to be human. To talk and eat and relax. Relaxing was still far away but this, this was nice. She was safe, fed, clothed, and happy. Maybe happy? Wasn't sure what that was anymore.

"Do you remember Rabbit?" Head snaps up as she hears her pet name. Cheeks flaming as she realizes she's missed the whole conversation.

"Hop away did we?" Price is smiling, no anger or malice in her voice. He's asking her if she's okay without making it a spectacle. She gives a quick nod and looked down to take a bite. Failure. It's loud and in her ear. She jumps, head whipping around to face nothing. She doesn't clock the eyes on her. No, she's too focused on the loud sounds in her head. Whore. It's across the room. Shape dark and standing taller than her. Face clouded in mist, swirling around. It's speaking to her. Useless. She crinkles her napkin. Worthless. Scoots her chair out. Traitor. Standing she goes to run. The thing closer now. Russian garbage. Used like the whore you are. She's running before it finishes it's sentence. Footsteps pounding behind her, she goes to hide in her room. Sobbing she's in the closet in seconds. Hit's the back and crawls into the corner. The clothes concealing her from view. Hands over her ears she rolls herself into a ball. The voices in her head getting louder and louder. Someone's banging on her cell door. The guards are trying to get in. They're gonna hurt her, tear her clothes again and try to touch her. Her team is gonna find her though, no man left behind. They'd promised.

"Sarah!" Her name is strange agaisnt her ears. She curls tighter and sobs louder. There's a loud noise and some light. They've found her. They're gonna kill her. Sarah is screaming, loud and hoarse.

"Flower, c'mre." Hands are coming towards her, rough and calloused. Hands that have held a gun. Sarah screams louder, begging for help. Feet kicking as she attempts to crawl away. Her side still aching from the last guard.

"Price!" The person behind the one trying to grab her is built just like the one below. The light behind him casting a shadow. She's praying her team finds her soon, terror racing through her veins.

"Move, she can't see our faces." The shadow is gone and suddenly she sees her tormentor. Brown eyes. She knows those eyes. Dean. She reaches out to him. Tears soaking through her uniform.

"You found me." Why is her voice so gruff? And she's wrapping her arms around his neck. Clinging to the man she'd spent years bunked beside. "You saved me." She's being picked up, carried to safety.

"We found you. You're safe, flower." Flower? No, raven. Her name is raven, Dean came up with it. She's set on something soft and pulls back confused. The face she sees is not Dean's, no but it is familiar. Flower. Someone else calls her that. Someone with a skull mask. Her fingers touch the baklava. She catches those eyes again and notices the difference in them to Dean's. Instead of gold she sees chocolate. Deep and smooth. Those eyes did save her, they carried her away from the horrible pain. Her lip quivers and shes shaking.

"Ghost?" Voice so low he almost misses it. Hands on her face he nods. She leans into those hands.

"Right 'ere. Haven't left you." He can see the tension in her bones. She's wound so tight she could snap. She looks over his shoulder to the other boys watching, her father in front.

"I'm - so-rry." She hiccups. Ghost is shushing her, hands holding her to him.

"No, don't do 'at." He throws a look over his shoulder and her dad is there in a instant.

"Rabbit?" She nods. Doesn't know what to say. Refuses to tell him what happened. Instead she points to the bed.

"I wa-an-na sl-e-ep." It's broken but more than she'd said in years. Her father nods and kisses her head before rushing off down the hall. She catches the boys and tears well in her eyes again. She makes grabby hands and Gaz and Johnny join Ghost's side. Sarah holding each of their hands as she leans on Ghost's chest, breathing slowing down. She tenses for a second when she feels the dip in the bed, before instantly relaxing when Price's scent hits her nose. She's safe like this, boxed in by the only four men who'd not hurt her. Who'd only ever offered kindness and safety.

"You need to sleep, lovie. We can talk about tonight in the morning." Price is rubbing her hair, she can feel the exhaustion taking root as the adrenaline fades out. He's right, she's picking up that he usually might be. But she doesn't wanna be alone. She's been alone for two years. So she tugs on the hands and looks up.

"Not alo-ne." Gaz is tugging her hand away in a second, her eyes going wide and breathing picking up. He's leaving. Tears well up in her eyes until he takes her chin and shakes his head.

"Need to get ready for bed if I'm laying with you." She smiles as he kisses her head watching as he pulls away and goes to change.

"You wanna change too?" Ghost is turning her face up.

"Pl-e-ase."

"Course." He's in her closet right after leaving her to sit with Johnny and Price. Price who is still rubbing her hair, and shit, she could fall asleep like this.

"Gaz wins this round 'aye?" Johnny is joking, his need to always make people happy even in the worst of times. Sarah doesn't agree and instead tugs him closer.

"You t-oo-o." Her cheeks are crimson even asking. The idea taboo but she can't sleep alone. Not yet, not when she can still feel the cold of her cell in her bones. Johnny nods, because of course, he'd do anything she asks. "Cha-nge?" Johnny nods before he too exits. Ghost comes back with a pretty purple set that looks like a dream. Price gets up to leave.

"I'll leave you to it." Turns to say goodnight and she's already stripping. He freezes, not because she's naked but because she's naked. It's the first time he's seeing her clean and treated. Her wounds and scars on full display. He catches sight of a nasty scar on her side. He doesn't mean to stare, doesn't even know hes walked closer until he's brushing his fingertips agaisnt the scar. She freezes for a split second before looking at him, gauging his reaction. She expects disgust or pity, but instead finds anger? She leans away and he finally notices her face. Shame. "No, never. You 'ave nothin to be shamed about? No ones angry at 'ya. We're mad at what happened, at the people who did it. Never you." Ghost slips the shirt over her head and pushes her into Price who hugs her. Squeezes her and places a kiss on her head.

"Get some sleep. Long day tomorrow." She nods and nuzzles into Ghost's black hoodie. Gaz is back, slipping in behind her and grabbing her arm. She allows him to pull her into the bed, slipping under the blanket and making room for Johnny. Johnny who is only in a thin pair of sleep pants. Sarah looks away, hoping he doesn't notice her red cheeks.

"Better watch out, Johnny snores." She giggles and she curls into Gaz, grateful for the warmth. Johnny scoffs as he scoots close to her and slips a arm over her hips.

"Speak for yourself." Gaz laughs and Sarah can feel the vibrations in his chest. Its calming somehow. Johnny kisses her head and nuzzles into her back, his breath warming her neck. Its comfortable, being touched like this. She knows she doesn't have to worry about them hurting her. They actually care for her and wanna see her thrive. And here wrapped in both of them she knows she's safe. She can sleep and not worry about waking up to hands around her throat or thighs. This is relaxing, she realizes. Wrapped up and warm. Both boys breathing evenly and holding her. She slips off thinking how this is her version of home.

Johnny does in fact snore. Extremely loudly at that. But she's fully rested, the sun dim through the curtains. Gaz is gone, must have gotten up earlier. She curls closer to Johnny, his warmth on the verge of easing her back to sleep. And she would've too, if Johnny hadn't slung his arm over her chest and squeezed, nuzzling into her back. It cuts off her air supply and she has to slap at Johnny. Clawing at the fat of his arm, pinching him.

"So-oap." He moves a bit. "So-o-oap!" A little louder. "Soap!" That's it. He's up in a instant. Eyes finding her and helping her sit up.

"What is it lassie?" She giggles a little. He's cute. Mohawk a mess, dried drool on his chin and sleep in his eyes. "What?"

"Cute." She squeeze's his cheek for added effect. "Yo-ur lo-ou-d. Squi-sh-ed me." Johnny blushes. Sarah smiles and snuggles into his chest, nudging his arms out of her way. The light hair tickling her cheek. She sits there and listens to his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump quieting the voices. Johnny rubs her hair as he hums some old song his mum used to sing to him. Sits there for as long as she wants, her touch calming his nerves. Easing away the terror he felt last night.

"Oi! You're awake." Gaz is still in sleep clothes but looks wide awake. He climbs in beside her and kisses her head that is still pressed to his friends chest. "Sleep good?" She hums in response.

"Sn-ore l-ou-d." He chuckles and smacks Johnny's arm.

"Told ya' mate." Johnny is grumbling.

"Can't 'elp it!" Sarah chuckles and pry's herself off him. Her eyes staring into the sparkling blue of Johnny's. She rubs her nose agaisnt his, causing him to shiver and nip at her own.

"C'mere. You're dad made French toast." She happily climbed out of the bed and into Gaz's waiting arms. Mention of her dads favorite breakfast food causing her stomach to growl.

Breakfast is simple and no one asks questions about last night. Letting her eat and wake up. Ghost gives her a cup of coffee, gawking as she dumps sugar and milk in it. Grumbling about "coffee is black" and "already too fukin' sweet". She just giggles and sit back beside Price and her dad. Almost moaning once again when the toast first touches her tongue. Memories of Sunday mornings and laughter bubbling up. Tears come to her eyes when she first takes a sip of coffee. The warmth is brings reminding her of her mom, the coffee she'd make her every morning. She take a second, closes her eyes and lets herself actually feel. The ache from losing her and from not having her when she needs her the most. Price catches it, catches everything really. It is his job after all. He takes her knee under the table. Three light taps to let her know its okay. That she's okay. And she taps back. Giving him a smile when she opens her eyes. Thankful for his understanding.

"I'm gonna head back home today." She stares at her father. Shock in her eyes. Maybe a little hurt too.

"Why?" Ghost grunts it out, going between looking at him and watch Sarah for a reaction. All she does is a slight dip in her shoulders.

"I can do more from there then I can here. Last night was proof I'm not capable of properly helping. And I feel I'm only in the way here." She looks away. Out the back door and into the forest. The sun shining bright. She wants to feel the warmth. So she promptly gets up and walks out the door. Letting it shut behind her. There's a lawn chair not to far from the patio in front of a fire pit. She sits down and brings her knees to her chin. Turning her head up she closes her eyes and just basks in the warmth. The sunshine bright even agaisnt her closed eyes. She evens her breathing and tightens her hold on her legs. The burning in her throat the sign tears are coming. She can feel the person before they speak, but doesn't open her eyes. Knowing if she does she's gonna break.

"Your mom was sick before you were born." He doesn't try and touch her. Just speaks. "Her childhood was rough and her time in the Marines gave her enough problems. I didn't quite understand until it was too late. She'd disappear in her head for weeks at a time. Found her with a razor a couple times, nothing too serious. She stopped after a while, though she was getting better. You were born and she seemed so happy.  We both were. You were the light of our lives. Around your second birthday it got bad again. She would go to bed and just lay there. I'd find you in your crib, playing with the air. I tried to talk to her and help but it just didn't work. When you were two years old you walked in on her cutting words into her arms. I went to look for you and found you crying at her feet, your little hands bloody. You were asking her why she was doing it. I took you and cleaned you up, put you to bed. Then I went and called nine-one-one. She was gone for two days before coming back. I tried to get her help. But I wasn't enough. I lost your mother because of that, and I refuse to lose you for the same reason." Sarah chokes back a sob, allowing herself to fall into her fathers arm and cry.

"Mis-s her." He rubs her head, nodding with her.

"I do too. But she loved you. She may have had her problems but you brought her so much joy." She breaks harder at that. "I can't wait until you come home. But I know you are safe here. I trust you with these men more than you being home. They care for you, I can see it. I love you and want for you to be happy."

"Lo-ve y-ou dad." She knows when he's leaving, feels herself being handed off. Smells Price's musk and cries even harder. Knowing he was leaving to keep her safe.

"C'mere sweet girl. I've got ya'." She clutches onto him, sobbing into his chest as he rubs her hair and whispers in her ear.

[mitsuki91]

Of course because my brain can not stop and it's full of floating snowbaird plots, now I am thinking about a story post canon where Lucy Gray return to 12 and with Maude Ivory as the snowbaird ambassador... So I write a little bit and I present to you my own version of Maude Ivory, the new menance to society, who has the best (worst) part of Lucy Gray charm and Coriolanus manipulation:

She saw him again a year and a half later.

Unbelievable. Maude Ivory had insisted on taking part in this phantom Victory Tour that Panem was advertising everywhere - while Lucy Gray had stayed cooped up at home because she couldn't bear the thought of the Hunger Games, just as she had been at home during the summer event - and so she had gone to the square, alone in the crowd, to watch the little speech that that year's Victor was going to give.

And there he was.

Her hands itched. Maude Ivory bit her tongue, thinking back to the promise she had made, but there had to be a way... A way...

Coriolanus was not alone. He was moving with a small group of people - a blonde woman who looked like him, another blonde woman who looked like she had a stink on her face, and one with black hair so straight it looked like silk and an almost sullen expression - but she couldn't let this opportunity pass her by.

When the stage show ended she slipped through the crowd, taking advantage of her petite build and the fact that no one really paid attention to a nine-year-old girl, until she found herself just behind the group.

"... How dreary" the obnoxious blonde woman was saying "And you put up with what? A month? Far too long, if you ask me."

Maude Ivory leaned even closer and then tugged at the sleeve of Coriolanus' red coat.

He turned instinctively towards her and the world froze.

She saw it, in his blue eyes. An instant of panic, and then a pain so sharp it hurt reflexively, and then... Nothingness. A flat calm, deposited like the fine coal dust that covered everything at the Seam.

"... Do you have any caramel popcorn?" asked Maude Ivory, assuming her best good-girl-does-sweet-eyes expression.

The small group had stopped with Coriolanus and the girls were all puzzled and silent.

"No," replied Coriolanus, dryly.

Maude Ivory used her secret technique of making-a-cute-pout. Just a little glossy-eyed, to soften.

She let go slowly of his coat sleeve, trying to put in as much devastation as a poor, dirty, starving child could muster - which was a lot, she had to admit, so Maude Ivory congratulated herself as she waited for any reaction from him.

Which did not wait.

Coriolanus' lower lip trembled imperceptibly and his eyes filled with pain again - with regret, Maude Ivory realized at that moment.

A second later and Maude Ivory felt herself being lifted into his arms and found herself hanging by his side, her face at his height, while he smiled, tenderly, masking his suffering.

"Hey, how about I buy you a cake instead?"

"A cake? A whole one?!"

"Of course."

"Will you get me a chocolate one?"

"Whatever you like. Only, you have to help me. You see, I've never been to this part of the District: will you guide me to the bakery?"

Maude Ivory smiled and let out a few exclamations of enthusiasm. She began to guide him noisily and chaotically, pointing with her arms and hands, laughing when he pretended to take a wrong turn to be corrected. With a very small part of herself she was aware that the other girls were following them and that their expressions were priceless: of pure amazement, speechless in front of that spectacle in which Coriolanus almost made a fool of himself just to make a little girl laugh.

Perfectly so, thought Maude Ivory, enjoying the power she wielded over all of them, Coriolanus above all.

Barb Azure used to tell her that she was too smart and sprightly for her age, and in that moment Maude Ivory fully understood what her cousin meant. And she was proud of it.

Finally they arrived at the bakery, where Maude Ivory, still in Coriolanus' arms, made a lot of other scenes pretending to be undecided between different chocolate cakes. Finally she chose a medium-sized, heart-shaped one - because, it was obvious, even if he didn't know it, it had to be a gift from Coriolanus to his Lucy Gray - and as Coriolanus struggled to get the money out of his coat pocket, she threw her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulders, hugging and cuddling him. Surreptitiously she peered at the girls and saw that the obnoxious blonde looked disgusted, so she smiled brightly at her.

"Who are you?" she asked her, direct and innocent.

She emitted an annoyed snort.

"Livia Cardrew," she replied, "Coryo's girlfriend. You know, the guy who's buying you a cake for no good reason." she added in a hiss, addressing him.

Maude Ivory felt Coriolanus stiffen beneath her and widened her smile.

You are deluded, blondie.

"Then prepare yourself, for when I am grown I will take him away from you," she replied, quietly, and saw the dark-haired girl turn to hide a laugh in the palm of her hand.

"Oh really?" asked the third girl, smiling amused "And what is your name?"

"Maude," replied Maude Ivory. She purposely didn't say her middle name because, she knew, 'Maude' could be a Miss Nobody, but 'Maude Ivory' belonged to the Coveys - and the Coveys were a secret she only wanted to share with Coriolanus.

He seemed to appreciate it, however, as he turned his head slightly to the side to leave a light kiss in her hair.

That earned her another grunt of disapproval from stink-below-the-nose-Livia and an even squeakier laugh from the other girl.

"Then nice to meet you, Maude. I am Tigris, Coryo's cousin, and in a few years I will be honored to be a relative of yours."

You don't know how much, thought Maude Ivory.

Coriolanus had managed to pay, so they all left the bakery.

"Will you take me home?" asked Maude Ivory to Coriolanus "I'll tell you the way."

"Of course," replied Coriolanus, in a low voice.

Maude Ivory knew she was directing him towards many memories. Good memories, she hoped, though they must be full of bitterness since he didn't know Lucy Gray was back and well.

Fate would decide.

She would not break any promises, she would not say anything, but Coriolanus was going to return to the Covey house. And there he was going to find Lucy Gray.

They walked for about a quarter of an hour. Maude Ivory had chatted a little with the girls - she had found out that the third was called Clemensia and that she had been invited to attend the Victory tour as a friend of Tigris, who was the stylist, and Coriolanus, who was responsible for the success of the event.

Then they had arrived. The last house before the meadow.

Maude Ivory had stirred and slipped out of Coriolanus' grasp. Tam Amber had come out of the house and merely observed them, puzzled.

"Look!" had exclaimed Maude Ivory, taking the bag from Coriolanus' hands "Coryo gave me a cake!"

The girls called him that, so she had decided she would do the same.

Tam Amber took the bag from her hands and opened it, looking at the box with the cake shop symbol.

"Mmmmh..." he commented, neutral "Did you say thank you properly?"

Maude Ivory returned to Coriolanus and pulled him tightly into a hug. He, puzzled, merely looked at her.

"What a warm coat!" she exclaimed, looking up at him and enacting another skit of her own "I bet it would look great on my cousin Barbie! Do you know she has to run every morning to get warm because we don't have enough fabric for winter clothes?"

Come on, thought Maude Ivory, take the bait.

Coriolanus stared at her for several moments, confused. Then he raised an eyebrow, puzzled. He looked both irritated and amused.

“You want my coat? For... Your cousin?” he asked finally.

Maude Ivory performed a huge sly smile.

"My cousin would thank you very much if she were here, I'm sure."

Holy stars in the sky, that wasn't even a lie.

Coriolanus hid his mouth behind his hand. A flash of pain in his eyes, and then a secret laugh.

“You know what? That's fine. You've earned it,” he finally told her, taking off his coat. Maude Ivory heard the blonde hen exclaim "What?!" and ignored her. She took the coat from Coriolanus' hands and folded it back on itself, holding it up so it wouldn't touch the ground.

"Thank you! We will make good use of it!"

"I hope so. It's fine tailoring, you know."

"Fine what?"

"Never mind."

Coriolanus tousled her hair in a gesture that was both affectionate and familiar. Lucy Gray always did it to her.

"Kiss?" asked Maude Ivory.

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow again and then leaned towards her to leave a small kiss on her cheek.

"I really have to go now... Maude."

"Well, thanks for everything, stranger."

Coriolanus turned, after nodding to Tam Amber, and had almost reached the end of the street when Maude Ivory shouted one last thing to him.

"If you can, send me some caramel popcorn when you get home!"

She heard him burst out laughing and smiled back with thirty-two teeth. Coriolanus turned for a final wave and then disappeared behind a turn, tailed by the girls.

Maude Ivory, still with the coat in her hand, went round the house until she found Lucy Gray on the other side, standing at the wall, pale and with a terrible expression on her face.

As if she had seen a ghost.

And with a pain that mirrored what she herself had seen in his eyes.

Maude Ivory handed her the coat.

"I have not broken my promise, I swear," she told her. Lucy Gray remained silent. She did not even seem to be looking at her, lost in some memory she had not shared with her "It still smells like roses" Maude Ivory insisted.

With a terrible sigh Lucy Gray came back to reality and, with trembling hands, picked up the coat. She detached herself from the wall of the house and wrapped it around herself, sinking her face into the collar and sniffing at the top of her lungs.

“Thank you, Maude Ivory,” she said at last.

She was not stupid enough to refuse such a gift even though, Maude Ivory was sure, in a few days she would be scolded good and proper.

"Are we all celebrating with cake tonight? It's chocolate."

She saw Lucy Gray smiling, and smiled back.

The stars had not graced them this time but, she felt, sooner or later they would help her sort things out.

She wasn't going to stop trying anyway.

[randybutternubber]

What’s everyone’s opinions on Rusty? I’ve been thinking abt this for a while- I’m super curious because on one hand he can be read as a helpful character but on the on the other he could also be interpreted as either a really big dumbass or semi-malicious out of desperation

What was the plan for noone after they escaped- were they gonna save her or like…? And also I can’t help but think that convincing her to scream BIG TOP over and over could have been a way to distract the dummy and the man in the purple suit rather than warn him of their presence.

Rusty also gives noone the “best seat in the house” which makes me wonder if he placed her in an area where he knew the dummy and his purple idiot husband would appear. It was by such short notice too- did noone just happen to show up at just the right time for them to incorporate her into their plan?

On the other hand though, I think it’s totally possible that Rusty did think someone was going to save noone or thought she could get away, or maybe he straight up didn’t think at all because he has a ball of mush for a brain.

It’s all such an interesting situation because noone could very well be an unreliable narrator.

I think something a lot of people forget is that the reason why noone felt so attached to Rusty was most likely because she also knew the trauma of being “put under the spotlight” just as she was because of her being cured from whatever water sickness is.

Was she blinded by that sort of trauma linked kinship and the dazzling spectacle of the funfair? Or maybe Rusty just has brain damage because the dummy dropped him as a child and then stomped on him until he was a little ginger stain on the ground.

My personal interpretation is that Rusty didn’t intend to use noone as bait, but in his desperation to escape, he basically convinced himself that she would be fine and that they would be able to save her. Alternatively he was so desperate to escape that he was willing to do it at any cost, including that of another. It seems like Rusty wasn’t just going to escape the funfair either but rather “ this whole rotten world”

Ln 3 also mentions something about “a fate worse than death” and we know that Rusty is a teenager- perhaps his desperation to leave was because he was terrified to become an adult or something

And then he got curbstomped by a coked up puppet

Anyways rip Rusty I’ll design you soon and I am so sorry for giving you incredibly depressing lore (if you know you know)

[starchaserdreams]

Wolfstar Microfic: Admirer

“That’s the fourth one this week!” James said gleefully. 

Remus kept his eyes averted, pretending to focus on whatever Marlene was saying. That was okay, her words really weren’t meant for him, they were meant for Lily, he just happened to be listening in. And he kept his eyes focused on them for a moment longer just so it wasn’t obvious where his intention really was.

Every other eye at the table was on Sirius, where he sat pink-cheeked with a singing telegram in front of him. 

He was blushing furiously, but obviously pleased with it. Sirius had always loved to be the center of attention, and he certainly had all eyes on him today. 

Remus finally turned his head when Marlene and Lily both stopped to look. It would have been hard to miss, given how loud the thing was, and the fact that it kept throwing exploding confetti in the air.

Remus already knew the whole song, he’d had to teach it to the telegram after all.

He’d meant to put on the spectacle once, just to be silly about it and embarrass Sirius, but then Sirius had seemed so happy about it, had seemed to love the moment, and so Remus had just kept doing it. It had been meant as a stupid prank, to trick him into thinking there was some girl out there sending him cards, but then Remus really just liked how happy it made his friend. 

He’d always been a bit of a sucker for doing things that made Sirius happy, so why not.

The first few days, Sirius had speculated endlessly about who could be sending them. His ego allowed him to imagine it could be almost anyone at the school, teachers included. 

But that night, he came up real close behind Remus and whispered in his ear. Suddenly he seemed confident. Suddenly he seemed to have no doubts at all.

“I know it was you, Moony,” he said, breath tickling Remus’ neck. All of the hair on Remus’ body seemed to stand on end.

Remus stood stock still, heart beating loudly in his chest. 

Remus still hadn’t turned around, so Sirius turned his head to speak - still ever so softly - into Remus’s ear. One of his hands settled gently on the side of Remus’ waist, so delicately Remus almost thought he imagined it.

“I know you’re my secret admirer.”

Remus rubbed his hands down his arms, trying to smooth down the goosebumps. He turned to face Sirius, quick to correct him.

“Secret admi- no,” he tried, “it was just a prank, it wasn’t-”

Sirius just laughed. “Don’t worry, I was hoping it’d be you.”

Remus’ words died in his throat. 

Sirius had WHAT.

“Wouldn’t have been right if anyone else sent me love songs by Queen, now would it?”

Remus hadn’t meant it as any sort of declaration of love, though now that he thought about it he could see why Sirius had thought that, and could see why it would definitely seem like it had to be Remus.

But Remus couldn’t figure out how to put any of that into words. Because Sirius was standing so close that it was short circuiting Remus’ brain, so close that he felt the heat of Sirius’ body all around him. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sirius brought his hands to Remus’ sides, and pulled him even closer.

“I always hoped you’d want to be my Valentine,” he whispered, “never thought it’d be so dramatic or in January, but I still always wanted it to be you.”

Remus was dimly aware that he should say something, maybe that he should own up to the truth of it, but all he could focus on was Sirius’ mouth, and his pleased smirk, and the way his fingers were slowly skimming up Remus’ back until suddenly his left hand was on Remus’ cheek. 

“Can I kiss you, Moony?” Sirius asked slowly, quietly. “Do you want that?”

“YES,” Remus replied immediately. Whatever the truth was suddenly didn’t matter. The only thing that was true was this moment between the two of them, this moment where Remus realised what it was to want - and realised that what he wanted was Sirius.

@wolfstarmicrofic

On AO3 here

[fanfoolishness]

Midnight thoughts on the new episode. AHHHH yell at me if y’all have watched it!

Okay so we didn’t get an emotional breakdown from anybody BUT we got Crosshair’s hand being so. Much. Worse. when he had to talk about Tantiss. I’LL TAKE IT but FUCK how is he going to be back there?!? Man I am just waiting for all of you wonderful giffers to feed my Crosshair-obsessed brain with closeups on THAT HAND.

RAMPART! Noshir!!!! It’s good to hear your smarmy bastard self again! Also you’d think he’d be like “fuck the Empire” now, but nope, still an asshole. Guessing we are NOT getting a Kallus angle here 😂 But at least Crosshair got to literally kick him, I fucking love it 😂

Hemlock is such a fucking idiot. I mean we all knew she’d go to the vault, but we also know she will organize an uprising and kick serious ass. This guy is such a fucking maroon you just signed your death warrant, you nozzle.

Emerie, find your courage already! You can do this!

Does Rey literally have Omega’s blood running through her veins? (It’s where the compassion comes from! 🥹)

I’m glad Wrecker is okay ❤️

Okay, starting to hope CX-2 isn’t Tech, because he’s a little shit. His own people don’t like him and he pushed Omega twice. What a dick! Please don’t be Tech (but if he is we have got to save him!! He can’t die again like this!)…

But the showrunners are really being dicks about it. I mean look at this. Phee is literally next to AZI’s big yellow spectacle lens eyes with Tech’s goggles in the background WHILE talking about Tech. COME ON.

Thank god Lula’s still okay ❤️

This episode felt super short! But I’m so happy there wasn’t a huge time skip and that Crosshair got to kick an asshole even if his hand has gotten worse. I just rewatched the Infiltration/Extraction episodes and he talks about Tantiss and the CX program at a few points, with only the typical slight shaking occasionally. Nothing like the tremors starting to affect his whole arm (as if there’s a movement it’s trying to do and he’s fighting it). Even though they barely talked about Omega… the idea of going back to Tantiss for real now because they need to help her has him really struggling. 🥺 Not to mention that maybe he hasn’t been able to tell them he missed the shot. 🥺

[bellafarallones2]

prison break (1/2)

in which The Moth breaks an innocent man out of prison. tw for references to incarceration, death penalty, etc. this is based on an au i talked with @thiswasinevitableid about a long time ago, and Indrid's whole deal also owes a lot to her superhero/supervillain fics

The Moth sometimes liked to listen to the radio while he tinkered in his workshop. Maybe that’s how he first found out about Barclay Cobb’s case, though he didn’t consciously remember hearing it. 

But the vision, when it came, was too vivid to be forgotten. Indrid’s screwdriver clattered to the floor. A man with big brown eyes, in a prison jumpsuit he’d done nothing to earn. An innocent man, trapped in a prison cell while his case wound and rewound through appeals, hundreds of lawyer-hours and hundreds of thousands of dollars paid by the state of Nevada to decide that yes, they were going to kill him. 

There were many innocent people in prison. Intellectually, Indrid knew this. There were many more guilty people in prison who still didn’t deserve what the state had decided they did. But perhaps Indrid could do something good for this one man. 

–

The night wasn’t quiet, because it was never quiet on death row, but it was about as quiet as it ever got. Now Barclay was trying to make his head quiet so he could go to sleep. 

(Nights weren’t nearly as bad as mornings. Mornings were the worst. Especially if Barclay had dreamed of before, dreamed of fresh air and going to work and laughing with his friends, and then he woke up in his narrow, uncomfortable bunk and realized again that he was going to die here.) 

And then there was the sound of an explosion, and Barclay’s eyes flew open. 

The cinderblock wall of the cell block had disintegrated, making a hole large enough to walk through. 

Barclay got out of bed and stood there, feeling the cool night breeze from on his face, but paralyzed by the shouting of guards and fellow inmates. He couldn’t see three feet in front of his face from the dust. Then he felt a strong hand on his arm, and a voice in his ear. “You’re coming with me.”

Barclay went. He had, quite literally, nothing to lose. His rescuer dragged him out through the prison yard, out through a hole in the barbed wire fence, and into the woods. Barclay’s prison sandals were already almost disintegrating. 

Looking at the back of the man leading him, Barclay wracked his brain to see if he recognized him. 

He was dressed in black. There was some kind of mechanical contraption attached to his back. He had his hood down so Barclay couldn’t see his face. He was tall, but not quite as tall as Barclay, and very thin. 

They walked almost a half mile through the woods before they got to a black car parked on a dirt track. The man opened the trunk and tossed a pile of clothes to Barclay. There was a t shirt and a flannel, jeans, and socks and underwear folded discreetly between the shirt and pants. And a pair of nice new hiking boots. Barclay changed as fast as he could while the stranger tapped the steering wheel impatiently. 

“Just throw your old clothes in the trunk. And get in.”

Barclay got into the front passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. The car engine revved, sounding powerful and expensive. “Who are you?” said Barclay. Now he could see his rescuer’s face in profile: the high cheekbones, silver hair cropped close to his skull, eyes covered by red-tinted spectacles.

“I’m the Moth.” 

The name meant nothing to Barclay, but he certainly sounded like a criminal. “...What do you want with me?”

“I want you not in prison, Mr. Cobb.” It was a relief to hear the man say his name. If he’d gotten the wrong person Barclay could see that being bad for him down the road. 

He still had no idea why he was here. “Why?”

“Does it matter why?” the Moth snapped. “You’re out. Isn’t that enough for you?”

For the first time Barclay realized that the Moth’s hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. He was nervous. 

The Moth paused at the end of the dirt track, making sure there were no cars in sight before turning onto the main road. Then he started driving away from the prison. 

Barclay could hear sirens in the distance, and at one point three police cars sped past them in the other direction, but they didn’t stop. 

Barclay tried to relax. They were driving down I-80, passing trucks in the darkness, the headlights lighting up billboards and signs for roadside attractions. The red numbers of the clock on the dashboard ticked forward. 

After an hour Barclay’s bladder began to complain. After another half hour he got up the courage to ask “can we stop so I can go to the bathroom?”

“Fine,” said the Moth. 

He pulled off at the next rest stop. The building was empty, the truck parking spots in the lot all full and silent. The bright lights inside hurt Barclay’s eyes. 

The Moth waited outside the men’s room while Barclay went in. He sat down in a stall and for a moment just closed his eyes and appreciated the silence. The fact that he could close the stall door behind him and lock it. The way the clothes felt on his body - nice, and exactly his size. How did the Moth know what size he was?

When he was done he went back outside and found that the Moth had bought a package of fruit snacks from the vending machine. “Do you want anything?” said the Moth.

The vending machine in the prison visiting area had the same kinds of things, and Barclay was sick of them all. “No, thanks.”

“We’ll stop for breakfast around seven,” said the Moth. 

“Alright.”

They got back in the car and kept driving. 

After dawn broke, Barclay relished every moment looking out at the land they passed. Open space had become foreign to him, the idea of a world not closed in by concrete walls and barbed-wire fence. 

At 6:55 they reached the outskirts of a town, and at 7:02 they pulled into the parking lot of a diner. 

There were a few customers inside, men and women who looked like farmers, all watching with significant interest the television in the corner playing breaking news about the largest escape of death row prisoners in United States history. Enough inmates had escaped that they flashed Barclay’s face on the screen only briefly, but it still made him nervous to sit there in public. 

“You might want to shave your beard,” said the Moth.

“Yes,” said Barclay.

“Order whatever you like,” said the Moth. “My treat.”

The waitress came by to take their order. The Moth ordered iced tea; Barclay ordered coffee. The Moth ordered a big breakfast, so Barclay did too. 

When the Moth’s glass of tea arrived he tore open four sugar packets at once and dumped them in, far too much sugar to dissolve. 

When Barclay took his first bite of hash brown, his eyes watered with emotion: it was his first taste of non-prison food in almost ten years. 

–

Soon after breakfast they crossed the border into California, and then into the outskirts of Kepler. The Moth got off the highway and cruised down residential streets, Barclay’s face glued to the window. There were so many people out there - talking, walking, unaware of Barclay’s presence or what he’d been convicted of.

The Moth pulled into the alley behind a residential building. “Home sweet home,” said the Moth. “For the time being, at least.”

Barclay followed him into the building and down the stairs into a basement apartment. 

“I’ll give you the tour,” said the Moth as he flipped on the lightswitch. “I don’t have more than one bed yet, so unfortunately we’ll have to take turns sleeping on the couch.” 

The space was so barren it looked like someone hadn’t quite moved in yet, or was halfway through moving out. The kitchen was empty except for the box of fruit gushers on top of the fridge. There was a single bed pushed up against the wall, a sofa, and a television. “This is my workshop,” said the Moth, gesturing into the room that would have been a bedroom under a more conventional decorating scheme. “I’m letting you look in now so you won’t be tempted to go inside later.”

Barclay looked. There was a workbench and a huge plastic organizer full of electrical components. Some machine he didn’t recognize was disemboweled on the workbench. “Okay. No going in the workshop. Got it.”

Then the Moth showed him how to operate the security system, and gave him a piece of paper with the code on it to keep in his pocket. “Don’t let anybody in when I’m not here. Also, I can’t let you contact any of your friends or family.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Barclay yet, but now his heart hurt at the thought of not being able to let them know he was okay. 

“I’m sorry,” said the Moth, sounding sincere. “The police will be watching them. If you try to get in touch with any of them, you will get caught.”

Barclay sighed. “I know.”

The Moth pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and started peeling off bills. “I don’t know what you like to eat, and you’ll need more clothes… and I’ll give you my library card if you promise not to lose anything you check out.” 

–

Barclay spent much of the next week sleeping. Enjoying being able to shower in privacy. The Moth’s schedule was as unpredictable as the weather; Barclay could never guess whether he’d be asleep on the couch, curled up in his blankets like a caterpillar in a cocoon, huddled over the table in his workbench, or out. 

Once, when Barclay was about to leave to get groceries, he paused in the doorway to the workshop.

“Um. Moth?”

“Indrid,” he said.

“What?”

“My name. Please call me Indrid. ‘The Moth’ is more of a title.”

“Okay. Indrid. I was just going to ask if you’re allergic to anything?”

The Moth - Indrid - turned his head to look at Barclay, mouth open slightly in surprise. 

“I’m going to make chicken noodle soup. It’s, um, what my mom always made when I was sick or needed comfort. But the recipe makes way too much for one person to eat. So I was thinking maybe you’d like to share it with me.”

“No, I’m not allergic to anything,” said Indrid slowly. “And I would be grateful to share soup with you.”

Suddenly Barclay felt very awkward. “Good to know. Thank you. I… I’ll be back soon.” 

–

When Barclay came back with his shopping bags, he was only slightly disappointed to find that Indrid was gone. 

He chopped the vegetables, enjoying the familiar fragrance of rosemary, carved up the chicken, and sat down on the couch to let it all simmer. 

Then he heard a bang at the door, and froze. Someone was rattling the handle. Indrid had told him not to open the door for anyone when he wasn’t there. And this didn’t sound like the police. 

“Drat!” came a voice from outside, and then the door opened and Indrid stumbled inside. But something was wrong. He was limping, his shirt was stuck to his body with blood. 

Barclay leapt up. “You’re hurt!”

“Hm? Oh, hello Barclay.” Indrid went into the bathroom and turned on the light, peeling off his shirt and throwing it into the bathtub before getting in himself. 

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” said Barclay. “I can drive you!”

“What? Oh, no, I’m fine.” Indrid closed the bathroom door, hiding himself from Barclay’s sight. “I’ll clean all the blood out of the bathtub, don’t worry.” 

He sounded so nonchalant Barclay almost doubted what he’d seen. But no, someone had taken a knife to Indrid’s torso. “So… you’re a criminal?” said Barclay through the bathroom door.

A moment of silence. “I’m a supervillain.” More silence. “So, yes, but I like to think I have a little more style than the average purse-snatcher.” 

Barclay knew about supervillains. They were a particular feature of Kepler, in the same way San Francisco had its streetcars. But since he wasn’t from Kepler, it hadn’t occurred to him that Indrid was one of them. Though in retrospect, it should have been obvious. A regular criminal didn’t have a title like The Moth. 

“Does that mean you have superpowers?” said Barclay. 

“In a manner of speaking. Though I like to think I make good use of my gadgets as well.”

“Ah.”

“Barclay, would you mind going into my workshop and getting the first aid kit out of the bottom drawer on the right side of the desk?”

“Of course,” said Barclay.

He hadn’t gone into Indrid’s workshop since his first day here. On the wall above the desk was a corkboard, mostly covered in blueprints, but with a snapshot of a man in a green costume Barclay didn’t recognize pinned to the corner. Was this a superhero? Indrid’s nemesis?

Barclay got the first-aid kit out of the drawer and brought it back to the bathroom. Indrid was kneeling in the tub in his underwear, looking very skinny and vulnerable. He put out a hand and Barclay put the first-aid kit into it. 

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” said Barclay.

“Not at the moment,” said Indrid. “I am rather practiced at this, and you are not. But please close the door again. You won’t like watching it.”

Barclay closed the door. 

“I can see the future,” Indrid said, sounding like his teeth were gritted. “I had a vision that you were innocent. And it’s how I knew to come find you.”

Barclay went cold. “If you know that I’m innocent… What actually happened to Agent Stern?”

“I don’t know,” Indrid admitted. “I’m sorry. I can’t see. But just because I can’t right now, doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying,” he added.

Barclay sat down on the couch. “Oh. I just thought…”

“I know.” A few more moments of silence. “Would you like to tell me what happened? In your own words, I mean.” 

Barclay took a deep breath. He’d been thinking about it for a while. Telling Indrid. “I was a cook,” he started. “At a diner outside of Reno. A total nobody. And he came in for lunch a couple of times.

“He was so handsome, I thought he must be a movie star. Definitely someone important. He always dressed so well. We got to talking one day, and he left me his number. So we started seeing each other. Turned out he worked for the FBI office in Reno, and he had a thing for tall guys, and luckily for me there weren’t that many who were taller than him. I thought it was so cool that he was a special agent. He was so smart. Smartest guy I ever knew.

“And then one night we were seeing a movie together - Godzilla, he was so excited for it, he loved monster movies, it was so cute how excited he was - and I dropped him off at his place afterwards, and…” 

Barclay squeezed his eyes shut, tears forcing themselves out through the lids. “He never made it inside. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what happened. I drove away. I didn’t see anything. I’ve thought back to that moment a thousand times. I just wish… I never would have hurt him. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him!”

“I’m so, so sorry,” said Indrid.

“They didn’t have any real evidence against me!” said Barclay. “No murder weapon, no body, no anything. But because I was a loser, and I was the last person to see him, and they couldn’t think of anyone else to blame, they figured I must have done something terrible. I didn’t have a criminal record at all. I just…” Barclay took a deep breath. “Indrid?”

“Yes?”

“Do you enjoy hurting people?” As a supervillain Barclay supposed it was part of the job description. But to him, Indrid had never been anything but gentle. 

Indrid was quiet for a very long time. “I don’t think so,” he said finally. “Not anymore.”

“When I was in third grade I got suspended for fighting.” If Indrid didn’t know already, he’d find out soon enough, and Barclay couldn’t bear not to tell him. “There was this guy in my class who wouldn’t stop harassing me and my friends. Stupid shit, like pulling books out of our hands and throwing them on the floor. Just to piss us off. And one day when we were out on the playground, I just… hit him as hard as I could. I didn’t really know what would happen. He was fine! And I learned my lesson. That violence never makes anything better. It didn’t even feel good to hit him. I’ve never tried to hurt anyone since then. But the prosecutors called my fucking elementary school principal to the stand to tell everyone what a violent animal I was.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Indrid. “I’m sorry.” 

The timer went off that Barclay had set to remind him when the soup would be ready. The bathroom door opened, and Indrid emerged, a clean white bandage taped to his stomach. “Soup time?”

(update 6/16: part 2 has been posted!! https://bellafarallones2.tumblr.com/post/753467997825433600/prison-break-22)

[gingersnappe-9]

In a Crowd of Thousands: Mirrorbright (13)

Din Djarin/Mando X Fem!OC || Star Wars/The Mandalorian Universe

Series List || #star wars anastasia || PREVIOUS || NEXT

2.8K words

Warnings: PSTD/disassociation-like symptoms, canon-level trauma/grief 

Din’s whole body hurt. He didn’t know how, but his heart hurt as well. Whatever Ava had done –  intentionally or not – seemed to be tearing his soul apart. No, that wasn’t right. Ava hadn’t done anything. This was Din and Boba’s doing. They lied to her. They didn’t tell her the entire truth and a lie of omission was a lie nonetheless. Din had betrayed her trust, something he knew they both didn’t give haphazardly.

He lay on the ground as he watched Ava run away – the deep blue of her dress trailing behind like a once in a lifetime commit – The last person he wanted to see running from him, and Din was the only one to blame. 

A few guests stared at the spectacle of a Mandalorian being knocked onto his back by a girl, who barely even touched him. Din tried his best to think about what to do next… what to do next? What was there left to do? Princess Leia Organa had refused to listen to anything he had tried to say. There was no way he was getting back into her viewing box without using force which Din had decidedly taken off the table. 

Pushing himself back onto shaky legs, Din racked his brain as to what to do next. Muffled music began to play through the gilded walls. The final act of the show was beginning. Din had until the end of the performance to figure out his next move. 

I lied to her, but I won’t go back on my promise. 

He was going to help Ava reunite with her family, one way or another. 

Din found himself standing outside of the theater on the steps. The rest of the street was silent aside from a few individuals walking by. He stood off to the side, shadowed by a large statue that flanked the bottom of the stone steps. He was lying in wait.

He figured if Princess Leia wasn’t going to listen to him, he would take her directly to the person she was meant to see. He had gone around to the back of the theater where countless hovercrafts were docked and waiting to drive their owners home. He paid off an attendant to tell him which craft was Leia’s – something he found deeply disturbing but didn’t have a spare moment to dwell on further – quickly disabled the droid driver and reprogrammed it to his vambrace. 

As Din waited patiently for the show to end and Leia to exit the theater, he thought back to the moment Ava realized he had lied to her. The look of betrayal on her face. Memories of the previous night flashed through his mind. The way she gazed at him then was full of love. It had to be. Because even though she couldn’t see his face, Mando looked at her with the same adoration. He was enamored by this woman. Him. A Mandalorian. Sworn to a life of solitude and anonymity. He never knew he could feel so much pain, yet be so in love with the person at the root of said pain. 

Something about that train of thought gave Din serious reason to pause. No, that’s absurd. Mandalorians don’t… fall in love. I couldn’t possibly be… I can’t… In that moment, despite all rational thought or deceptions he tried to convince himself with, Din knew. 

He loved her. 

He thought about her nearly every waking moment since he met her. He knew nothing could compare to the way she looked at him. It would explain why he felt so uneasy about being away from her, and the moment they reunited, it was as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Din felt at ease around her, a feeling he never truly experienced given his life as a Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

Din was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice the swarm of people exiting the theatre. Snapping himself back into the moment, Din scanned the crowd for Leia’s biosignature. Once he locked onto his target, Din hailed the hovercraft. 

He moved stealthily through the crowd making sure to stay out of Leia’s line of sight for as long as possible. Once she climbed into the back, she obviously waited for the droid to drive her home. Din broke this false sense of security when he climbed in next to her and through the connection to his vambrace, ordered the droid to drive them to Luke’s estate instead. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Leia screamed as she glared at him. Din knew the gravity of the situation. He was kidnapping not only a member of a royal family, but also one of the most important leaders in the Resistance. 

Din tried to keep his voice level, “I’m fulfilling a promise to someone. The same person you refused to even look at.” 

Leia scoffed at his response. “Oh is that all? Listen here, Mandalorian. I refuse to believe any of the lies you’ve fed to this girl in the hopes of getting that reward. It’s over. My sister is gone. I won’t let anyone tarnish her memory with lies and false hope.” The longer Leia spoke, the more Din picked up on the hurt in her voice. She masked it well but he knew underneath the hard edge of her voice was a woman who had come undone at the repeated loss of her sister. Hope could be a powerful ally, as well as the cruelest temptress. 

Din remained as collected as he could for the short remainder of time it took them to reach the house. Once they had come to a stop, Leia hardened her position making it clear that she refused to move. She didn’t even seem to realize it was her brother’s estate they were parked outside of. 

He got out and walked over to Leia’s doorside and opened it forcefully. He was starting to see the family resemblance. Stubbornness seemed to be a familial trait with these girls. 

“You have to talk to her,” Din jabbed a finger in Leia’s direction as he spoke sternly, “Just look at her.” 

Leia kept her gaze forward, unyielding and guarded. 

Ava furiously threw the new clothes she had acquired into the case. The tears had finally stopped making it easier to see what she was doing. Ava was already trying to figure out what she should do next. She didn’t want to see Mando, maybe ever? The only logical step forward was to figure out a way to get off planet. 

Boba was still out on a hunt, she could possibly pawn some of the jewelry and clothes for credits. Maybe find a shipyard or mechanics shop and work until Boba returned or she could find someone else to give her a ride. Where would she go? Back to Tatooine? After everything she’d been through and seen, could she really bring herself to return to that miserable life?

The more she thought about everything, the more it hurt. The memories were so fresh and constant on loop. They seemed to burn scars into her mind so she would never forget them. The realization that Mando had used her to get money from that woman. The pain in the fact that everything that happened between them -- the kind words, the dancing, the laughter... their first time -- was all a lie. Ava was just a con. A bounty. 

I’m just such an idiot. What was I thinking? How could I for even a second have believed that they actually cared about me? That I… That Mando -- 

There was a knock at the door. Ava stilled for a moment, “Go away, Mando.” Each word was spoken clearly and curtly so there was no confusion or mistranslation. Despite her words, the door opened and Ava stopped what she was doing. Too tired from crying, Ava stood up straight to prepare herself for more heartache before turning around. 

About ready to yell some more, Ava realized the person standing in the doorway wasn’t Mando but rather, a woman. “Oh, I’m sorry. I… I thought you were… someone else.” 

The woman appeared to be older than her, not by much though. (describe her dress & hair). It was Princess Leia Organa. The woman they’d trekked so far to see. The one who would ultimately decide her fate.  

“I know very well who you thought I was. But the biggest question remains. Just who are you?” Her voice was smooth, direct with no sugar coating. 

And Ava just stood there for a moment, unsure how to answer. Who was she anymore, really? Not the lost castaway Peli found. Not the mechanic girl on dusty old Tatooine. Not a quarry waiting to be passed off to a client. Who then? 

“I was hoping you could help me. I’m… I’m just looking for where I belong,” Ava fiddled with her bare hands trying to keep herself from crying, “Please. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

That last statement by Ava seemed to strike a chord with Leia. But not enough to convince her entirely. The regal woman walked towards Ava, observing her a bit; taking in the sight of a girl who felt like she was an imposter in a gown far too luxurious for someone like her to wear. Leia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

She walked by Ava over to peer out onto the beautiful balcony. Leia took in a deep breath of the cool night air as it gently brushed in through the open doors. It seemed as though the weight of an entire world rested on her shoulders. Ava could practically feel the pressures of expectation and duty wafting off this pristine woman. 

“Young lady, I have not lived in this galaxy very long, but I’ve seen far more than you could imagine. I’ve lost a great deal. And I am tired of being conned and tricked.” 

Ava felt her heart sink. She knew now that Leia thought she was just another con-artist looking for a score. “I don’t want to trick you.” 

The older woman turned around with a knowing smile. “And I supposed the money doesn’t interest you either?” 

Ava fiddled with her hands and looked at the ground to try and calm herself. “I just want to know where I belong. Whether I belong to a family… your family.” She gestured towards Leia sheepishly. 

Leia turned, a small smile on her face. She stood there quietly in the open balcony doors. Her silhouette outlined by pale moonbeams and the faint street lights. Looking at Leia, Ava couldn’t help but feel like she recognized her. She could see someone from long ago. Images started to flutter in and out of her mind. 

“You’re a very good actress,” Leia chuckled a bit, “The best yet in fact. But I am far too busy to pursue these fantasies only to have my heart broken over and over again. I’ve had enough.” 

As the princess began to walk towards the door, Ava caught a whiff of a wonderful scent. It smelt of warmth, something like spice and… fire? More images began appearing in her mind. Clearer than any memories she’d had before. 

A woman with a beautiful face, round cheeks and rich brown eyes. She smelled the same. 

Ava knew the name of the scent.

“Chinar?” 

Leia paused as she reached for the door handle. “Yes. An oil for my hands.” 

Ava’s brow furrowed in concentration. “That’s right… She always smelled of chinar.” Leia was frozen at the doorway watching as more memories came into focus for Ava. She turned and stared out into the night gently pulling her necklace out of the neckline of her dress to hold.

“You were so excited when she told you that you were old enough to start wearing it yourself. But…” Ava rubbed her head slightly fatigued, “I spilled the bottle. The carpet was soaked. It always smelled like chinar after that. I would lie on that rug for hours when you went away, waiting for you to come home.” Ava turned back to see Leia sitting on a small stool in front of the vanity next to the door. A look of intrigue on her face. She could see Ava holding her necklace, but not the pendant itself.

“What is that you have there?” Leia asked softly. 

Ava peered down at the pendant in her hand. “This? Well, I’ve had it longer than I can remember.” She sat down next to Leia and as she explained, Ava was nearly floored by that strange sensation hitting her full force. Leia must’ve sensed it as well. The two stared into one another’s eyes for a moment before Leia looked down into Ava’s hand. 

Leia raised a hand over her mouth when she finally saw what the pendant was. The small gold rectangle, two rounded notches missing along each side with small carvings across its front. 

“May I?” Leia’s voice broke a bit when she asked.

Ava was hesitant to hand it over. It was the only thing she had that she ever cared about. She never gave it to anyone. Not even Peli. But something inside told her it was the right thing to do. 

The princess gazed at the necklace with a look of astonishment. “I only let one person borrow this necklace… It was our secret… Aruelia’s and mine.” The two looked at eachother, unsure of what to make of everything. 

Ava spoke with a voice that was barely loud enough to be a whisper, “You would let me wear it while you were away. You always blessed it with the lullaby before you left… so I wouldn’t forget you.”

Something overtook Ava entirely. She was suddenly a small child again in a lavishly decorated room with a bed far too large for her. Before her was an older girl, the younger version of the woman who sat with her now. Younger Leia lifted her arms to place the necklace over Ava’s head. 

The two gazed into one another’s eyes. She didn’t know what it was, or how it was even possible, but Ava knew Leia was seeing what she was seeing. And when the two locked eyes once more, they began to sing their favorite lullaby. 

Mirrorbright, shines the moon, it's glow as soft as an ember

When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember

Those you have loved but are gone

Those who kept you so safe and warm

The mirrorbright moon lets you see

Those who have ceased to be

Mirrorbright shine the moon, as fire die to their embers

Those you loved are with you still -- 

The moon will help you remember 

The vision faded and Ava was looking at Leia as she was now once more. Tears welled up in both of their eyes. 

“Aurelia.” Leia whispered in disbelief.

The younger princess smiled back at her sister. A happy tear fell down her cheek. “I promised I would give this back to you, didn’t I?” 

The two girls laughed and pulled one another into a deep embrace. Happiness flooded their hearts. Whatever the force was, it allowed them to feel their love for one another on a deeper level. Almost like some kind of magic. But whatever it was, it brought her home. Ava was no longer that castaway from Tatooine. 

The lost princess of Alderaan had been found. Aurelia had finally found her family. 

Leia hadn’t left the house since Din had dropped her off. Well, technically he kidnapped her, but everything seemed to have worked out as planned. Ava was their princess after all. 

Din stood outside the house looking up at the window he knew was Ava’s. Light seeped out onto the balcony as the wind rustled the translucent curtains. He hoped to the Maker that she would walk out and see him standing there. That he would get to look up at her, her silhouette bathed in the warm light of the house solidifying her as the angel he knew her to be. 

A dull ache pulsed through his chest with every heartbeat. Din couldn’t tell if it was from the force of whatever Ava had done at the theater, or if it was something regular people called heartache. 

Mandalorians didn’t have the means in life to experience something like true love or a broken heart. How could they? The Creed, the beskar, the wayward lifestyle all stood in the way of being anywhere long enough to let someone in. So why was Ava so different? 

The longer Din stared up at the empty window frame, the more it hurt. 

He flexed his hands trying to forget the feeling of Ava’s lithe fingers brushing over his. Mando tried to forget the way her lips felt pressed against his the night before. He tried to ignore the subtle panic he felt at the thought of him not being near her. His mind was constantly pulling him towards her. It was too much. 

He had made up his mind. Princesses don’t fall in love with bounty hunters. 

So he left.

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[steampunkforever]

I saw Bablyon quite awhile back, in theaters, and was ready to love it. Chazelle is a great director and I was ready for him to make something so “out there” that the twitter letterboxd Ari-Aster-worshiper crowd that usually flocks to Chazelle’s movies would give it bad reviews rather than filming video essays about how “no, you don’t get it” in a way that serious film critics reserve for discussions on “Chopping Mall.”

The signs were all there. A 20s period piece. A great cast. An indulgent runtime. Bad reviews. I was ready for it to flop commercially but (as a connoisseur of indulgent, polarizing, and pretentious movies) sweep ME off my feet.

But it didn’t. This confuses me! Because the ingredients are all there for me to love the movie.

Amazing cast? Check.

Great performances? Check.

BEAUTIFUL cinematography? Check.

Jazz soundtrack? This is a Chazelle Movie, we live and breathe jazz here.

Complex characters? Check.

Fabulous colorwork? Check.

Sharp editing?  Check.

Unbridled nostalgia for old forms? Again, this is a Chazelle picture we’re talking about.

Everything in this film is shouting “this was tailor made for you to love me!” and if I did love it we’d be going into deep analysis on how the film tracks Ford Mustang Design Cues/our cultural shift away from pure nostalgia (post-9/11 brain) and into optimism and hunger for the future and a shiny new world.

Yet the entire movie was an uninspired slog! None of it was even fun. This is Chazelle letting loose with an R rating and it sucked! The nudity, the the gross out humor, the violence, all felt cheap, unearned, and overdone. Even the ever-lovable Margot Robbie couldn’t make her character a sympathetic awful person and instead had to settle for slightly charming but unlikable. The whole thing was gaudy and gauche and not in the way I hoped it would be. And I signed up for overindulgence!

I wanted overindulgence like devils food cake, and this was overindulgence like a hot tub hangover. A spectacle in how spectacularly dull it managed to make sex, drugs, and violence.

The end of the film is the perfect example of how badly Chazelle fumbled this movie. After a meaningless 5th act (I lost count waiting for the thing to be over and then being sad about how I was waiting for this to be over) one of the main characters revisits the old stomping grounds of his once-successful career in the movies. Stepping into a theater, he seats himself amongst a crowd of movie goers and sees the fruits of the life he left behind, projected onto the big screen. He makes a sad face, sheds a tear, and we zoom out over the crowd to see everyone enjoying his work, oblivious as to the star who sits in their midst.

It’s an effective ending! For as much as I found myself asking why I liked every part of the film but not the final combination, I was impressed by the elegance of the ending. This was promptly ruined by a garish, flashing nostalgia montage unrelenting in its resolve to beat a dead horse named “Hollywood” into a liquid paste.

Coming out of the film on that note, it encompasses the biggest flaw of the movie, in that when describing it to friends with one word, I initially chose “overdone” but decided instead to just use “sucked.”

[brehaaorgana]

You entirely missed the point. He is not Black and therefore should not be encouraging people to watch videos of antiblack violence. You are also not Black and so it is not your place to decide either. Can you and everyone else please spread Black voices not what you think the "correct" yt opinion is.

I....think this was exactly my point I was trying to prompt though.

Literally quoting myself here:

I think it's... not great to encourage people to make a spectacle of black people being murdered, especially in the US, especially given the horrific history of using black murders as a recreational visual consumption activity by non-black people in the US.

With me so far? I have mentioned a racist history of non-black people actively and recreationally consuming images of black murders, which I think contextualizes the discussion we're all having. I am stating non-black people consuming images of black murder has a racist history in the United States. As a non-black person, I have brought up the negative and antiblack history of how non-black people have viewed the murders of black people as part of why I'm uncomfortable with telling people (general public includes non-black people) that they ought to go view a black woman's murder.

I am speaking about non-black people's behaviors.

Okay so then I said:

Basically I would say there's a lot of questions people need to ask themselves if they do this.

I'm saying this because I'm illustrating more of the issue I have here, with what these people aren't thinking about. I am leading in to rhetorical questions which I think should help people come to conclusions about the issue here I have pointed out.

"who decides if, how, and when it is respectful for you/me to watch someone's murder?"

The hint is that they're supposed to go "...oh, it's not up for a non-black person to decide they're respectfully and educationally watching the video footage of a black woman being murdered."

Like I am prompting people to think for a second about why they don't have the authority IN GENERAL to decide this is respectful or ethical or educational.

I am not actually deciding FOR people. I am not capable of forcing anyone to do fuck all. I am saying there's a terrible history of non-black people doing this and I don't believe it is necessary to be an eyewitness of the footage of murder in order to understand what happened.

...also just to clarify a few things:

I'm Mexican-american. I could just be talking based on how I feel about the history of white consumption of Mexican lynchings and the parallels there, but that felt inappropriate and besides the point! So I brought up the history of antiblackness specifically.

Also all of these things I have said are based on my time as a TA for an art history professor who specialized in Black American Photography, who was a Black woman, and who specifically addressed these topics in her lectures and prompted some of these considerations to her class. This whole response is because I listened to a black woman who is an expert in the field of literal images of black americans.

This is not about me presenting a ~correct yt opinion~ I basically asked people to consider who grants the right to say your consumption of the murder of a black woman is respectful or educational in a way that can't be accomplished by literally not doing that.

Idk anon I think I am clear to tell fellow non-black people to use two brain cells about this.

Edit, black voices on this topic:

PBS: White people don’t understand the trauma of viral police-killing videos by Dr. Monnica Williams.

Al Jazeera: Videos of police brutality can perpetuate Black trauma — The wanton display of footage of violent Black deaths re-traumatises Black communities and promotes racist tropes.

Sage Perspectives: When Black Death Goes Viral: How Algorithms of Oppression (Re)Produce Racism and Racial Trauma

Jstor Daily: Viral Black Death: Why We Must Watch Citizen Videos of Police Violence

This whole book: Bearing Witness While Black: African Americans, Smartphones, and the New Protest #Journalism

What to Consider before Watching Videos of Police Brutality

the New Republic: What Does Seeing Black Men Die Do for You? (Apparently retitled as: Videos of Police Killings Are Numbing Us to the Spectacle of Black Death)

NPR's Codeswitch: A Decade Of Watching Black People Die

[animefinatic]

Spoilers for Pokémon Scarlet and Violet

I’m going to talk about the story lines!! All three of them please just keep moving. I beat the game over the past weekend and I was just letting it simmer in my brain and I think I am ready to talk about it.

Team St⭐️r:

I’m not gonna lie when they first dropped info on them in trailers of them just being some rowdy kids who refuse to wear their uniform correctly and causing mischief I was disappointed. Ever since Team Skull from alola the ‘evil team’ just not evil-ing like they used to. I like triumphing over an evil organization. However as I progressed through the operation Starfall story and it just unravels how it was just a group of kids who were being bullied and after clearly receiving no help from the adults decided to band together and confront their bullies and they eventually became the villain after the kids cried and left the school. It’s crazy how the narrative switched up and they became the bad guy after defending themselves. With defeating each boss it was touching to see just how much team star meant to them. Giving me nakama vibes.

Clavell being in disguise the whole time was funny af. He thought he was cool.

Penny being the ultimate boss of team star was shocking for me. Usually I’m good at capturing the obvious reveal but I guess I missed the mark this time.

Victory Road:

At the core I’m a filthy traditionalist and I enjoyed collecting gym badges as usual and I absolutely looked up the ‘correct’ order of who to challenge. I never minded there was an order to the gyms I don’t care if they never allowed us to play the gyms in every order. However since they did give us a choice and really selling the open world aspect I’m disappointed they didn’t scale lvls accordingly. I had Sprigatito and pawmi early on. If I wanted an easy gym badge why couldn’t I go to the water gym and beat his ass? Like sure I could go anywhere I wanted (within reason, like if you could only run on korai/miraidon) but it didn’t mean I should go anywhere. But overall I enjoyed the gyms I enjoyed Rhyme, Grusha and Larry for various reasons. Can I just say Larry looks as tired as I feel. The elite 4 was kinda lackluster. I wonder if it’s because I’m so used to Galar. They made EVERYTHING a spectacle. Other than ‘wow hi Larry’ moment when he came back as an elite 4 member nothing really stood out. Even the champion Geeta wasn’t that impressive like they built her up for being the overall champion of Paldea and it wasn’t impressive. I like she’s involved with the academy and the Pokémon league and she running things but getting that moment to battle her I didn’t feel a spark. The only thing that tripped me up as not knowing what the heck the Gilmora was was and making the mistake of hitting it and having to get poisoned on switch in.

Nemona was an amazing rival, sure I’ve never had a problem with beating her but I can feel she genuinely wanted us to grow and thrive as trainers. Leaning she’s always had to hold back and just wanted a true rival in battling made me want to lowkey impress her with my skills. Though each of her battles were never hard for me. That battle with the tournament where we finally could fight as equals was exciting. This was the battle I had hoped to have with Geeta. My only thing was that early on it’s implied she had other Pokémon when she joined the academy and that was why she didn’t get a starter pokemon, getting the one weakest to ours(Quaxly for me). But I’ve seen her battle with the same Pokémon including the end. I had hoped to see a few different Pokémon on the roster as if to show she really went and got her old and strongest partners to come at us. But when I won and the cam pans over to Nemona it was like holding my breath everyone waited for a reaction. Rather than upset she was ecstatic. The look of joy on her face and just being so excited was such a nice feeling. When I first beat Hop I felt horrible since I killed his dream of fighting Leon but beating this rival felt good in a different way from beating those douche bag rivals of the past.

Mystica Hunt:

Y’all this is the best story in the whole game. I didn’t think knocking out totem—I mean titan Pokémon to steal a magic herb to make sandwiches was going to be good for much other than just be a way to upgrade our riding companion. When I saw Arven being introduced I just thought him to be so pretty and thought with his rude behavior in our intro this would be the annoying rival I was missing with Nemona. But then…2nd mission drops and it’s revealed he just wants to make medicine for his sickly dog who seemed to be an inch from death took me. So much emotion and showing me a different side of him I wanted to help him. But have a cute moment in the caves eating sandwiches and hanging out. With Arven I felt like I had a friend. Rivals like Hop, Barry, Cheren & Bianca were supposedly childhood friends and even the kids in x and y were supposed to be our new friends. But I’ve never felt my character was friends with them. We go our separate ways and occasionally battle. With Arven we were going through things together. And then we finely get his Pokémon back I was overjoyed. Starfall made me feel bad lowkey and the gym challenge is business as usual for me. But this mission felt so fulfilling even when I felt bad about having to battle him and his beloved Pokémon shortly after. The way I was disappointed when the next stage of the story with the professor couldn’t continue until I beat the elite 4.

The professor (Sada/Turo) being not only a robot this entire time but the original professor was dead for years. YEARS. no one, not even poor Arven, knew. Game freak really got me. I did not expect that. It was crazy enough we didn’t meet the professor the entire game mean but when we finally do it’s a robot. I saw one person on tiktok say it feels like it doesn’t fit with sada being scarlet professor and that game is about the past and the robot is a future element. Basically the robot plot twist didn’t fit and they felt like game freak made the plot line for violet and tried to make it fit scarlet. And I disagree. The technology in the Pokémon universe is pretty advanced. Why is it out the ordinary that Turo can make an Ai in his timeline and not for Sada’s? She is studying ancient Pokémon sure but if I’m not mistaken the Ai was made to help the professor with their research. It doesn’t matter the area of study, past or future. using the power of the crystals in area zero to get the Ai to actually run and help with the research is like a fancy assistant. I think it still fits even for the professor Sada story line.

Overall I love the three story lines as it gave me a little more to do than just the usual gym challenge. I like that Gamefreak is starting to breath more life and personality into these characters bc yes I’m always here for Pokémon but I like when the characters around me have personality and have more depth than being just a rival or just an obstacle for me to lvl up my Pokémon in between gym badges. Is the game glitchy? Yes, but it didn’t hinder my game play. I’ve seen some wild glitch stuff happen to others on tiktok and I’m glad I was spared the torment. I always took care to save periodically just in case. Well worth the money imo.

[archivallyfound09]

Entering the Villain Era pt. 10 (fin.)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (f)

Summary: The one where she can dish more than he can handle. And, oh, does he deserve it.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), drinking (reader is of age), suggestive situation. A very emotionally aware reader and a whipped Hangman.

Part One. Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Part Five. Part Six

Part Seven. Part Eight Part Nine

"I can't believe the Admiral is retiring." Fanboy pulled at his dress whites uncomfortably. Phoenix rolled her eyes and adjusted her skirt.

"Yes, you can. We all thought Maverick had done him in with this stunt," she nodded out towards the rest of the mission team that was mingling nearby. Fanboy shrugged and made his ways towards Bob and Coyote with the female pilot in-two behind him. "I'm honestly surprised it only took eight months for him to get out."

"Any sign of Rooster yet?" he asked as he stood next to Yale, getting nothing but headshakes and shrugs. He laughed and nodded, downing his drink. "Wait, what about Hang-"

If only summoning the devil was that easy. Before Fanboy could finish his sentence, a new energy fell over the room and the newly reunited mission crew turned towards the entrance of the large ballroom. Collectively, they all held a breath without realizing it.

In walked Lieutenant Jake Seresin. No surprise there. What was a surprise was the woman on his arm decidedly not in uniform. Phoenix and Bob slowly turned to each other, confused looks exchanged as the rest of the group's collective brains wracked their memory trying to place the woman. Hangman smiled politely as he saluted the guest of honor and then introduced the woman next to him. She offered her hand and shook her head smiling when he went to salute her.

"What'd I mi-holy fuck, who's the smokeshow with Hangman?" Rooster seemingly had appeared out of the pale green and cream wallpaper. His appearance shook the group's collective focus and they all turned to each other trying to get answers.

"I mean, has anybody seen him since we wrapped up everything?" Rooster was met with multiple headshakes- no one had seen him after the final night of the mission. He had effectively disappeared, his base housing empty, his car gone, any trance of Hangman was erased. Rooster ran a hand through his curls and looked up again and caught the eye of the woman who was now being introduced to a long line of admirals and their wives.

Rooster's blood ran completely cold. He felt like a wormhole had engulfed him entirely. He knew that stare.

"Then I'll start fucking talking."

"I've clocked every decision you've made in the last 144 hours."

"Let's get those motherfuckers."

The words echoed in his head and the look that crossed his face was keenly observed by the rest of the pilots. They turned and looked at you, making a decent spectacle of themselves. The woman dropped her smile and raised and eyebrow, amused, but also slightly disappointed.

"Oh my fucking god."

-----

You held Rooster's stare from across the room, mentally ticking every second it took him to put all the puzzle pieces together. Jake had your arm tucked into the crook of his elbow as he shared pleasantries and introductions with a variety of officers, most of which you had met at some point or another.

When the realization dawned on Rooster ("..a whole 38 seconds. He's slipping.") you watched necks practically snap as the rest of the crew turned to see you. You calmly and smoothly turned back to Admiral Bates, a smirk plastered on your face. Jake had taken a step slightly closer to you, but did not move his hand to your back. He stood rigidly, very conscious about your rules for the event.

"So, do you miss it yet?" Your ears perked back, turning to see Admiral Simpson walk up to your right. You gave him a polite smile.

"Every day, sir," he laughed, "But I've heard of this thing called a 'vacation'" you waggled an eyebrow and earned another laugh from the pair in front of you, "and I'm looking forward to figuring out what that is. Hopefully a break will do me good." Simpson nodded.

"You've certainly earned it," he said, smiling and taking your hand, encompassing it with both his palms. "Congratulations." You nodded and squeezed his hand. As Admiral Cain appeared at the group, Jake bowed out and took his leave. Bates gave you a quirked eyebrow and you laughed.

"Just an escort for the evening. Wasn't sure they'd let me in to this shindig," you chuckled at the comment and it was reciprocated. Cain patted your shoulder.

"I know this is supposed to be about me," he gestured to everything around him, "but enjoy this as a resignation party." He gave you a wink when you nodded and laughed, "besides, this was mostly for my missus." You and three powerful men turned to see Mrs. Cain fussing with some decorations and then waving joyfully over to her husband.

"Maybe we can vacation together," he smirked and you and Bates laughed, Cain slightly unsure of the inside joke he had just stumbled upon. You shook your head and held up a hand.

"I'm not even sure what a vacation is," you explained, "but if I figure it out, I'll let you know."

------

Hangman made his way towards the bar, very conscious of the stares that were boring into the back of his head as he ordered his drink. He sipped it and tipped the bartender, giving her his signature smile. He turned turned around, leaning his elbows and back against the cool marble top. He looked at the group and held his rocks glass up, toasting them in the most aggravating way possible.

Phoenix rolled her eyes and stalked towards the egotistical pilot at the bar and practically dragged him over to the group that was slowly making their way out the side doors onto the large stone balcony. You glanced over when Simpson commented "I think your escort was just absconded with." You shrugged and picked up your drink from the waiter that appeared nearby.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

-------

"HOW. Just. Fucking. HOW."

Phoenix's voice was louder than the rest of the group, the volume getting decently loud outside as the smirk glued on Hangman's face just spurred on the frustration. He sipped his drink, savoring the slight burn of the liquor as it provided a nice balance to the absolutely delightful scene in front of him.

"It's some weird sex thing. You're like her puppy," Rooster groaned and Hangman rolled his eyes, still refusing to say anything.

"Mind control," Bob said quietly, earning a nod from both Coyote and Payback. Fanboy hadn't been able to close his mouth all the way since he had figured out who the woman was on Hangman's arm. Hangman took in a deep breath, almost as if he was dragging on a long cigar and let it out slowly, fully enjoying all the attention on his for a change.

"It's-"

"Lieutenant Seresin."

The surprise interruption caused a few of the pilots to jump. jake looked to the sky and closed his eyes, knowing you would pull a stunt like this. "No labels." You had both agreed that you would figure this out when you figured it out. Until then, it was no one's business. Tonight you were just in need of an escort onto the event and he happened to have the credentials to get you there.

Well, that was the bullshit you were telling yourselves.

He straightened up and smiled as he turned towards you, drink coming to rest near his hip. You stared at him cooly, trying desperately to ignore the prying stares of the rest of the group.

"Yes, ma'am," he quipped, giving you an absolutely sinful look that only you could see. You felt you that familiar pull in your stomach as you cleared your throat quietly and held his gaze.

"Just needed you to move away from the doors, " your gaze travelled up and down him and then to the rest of the group. Captain Mitchell is here and he's looking for all of you. So, instead of gossiping, shall we?" You held the door open and felt the deja vu from the carrier almost a year prior when you had stumbled into a conversation also about you and Hangman.

Jake gave you a look, popping a toothpick into his mouth as he strode past you bringing up the rear of the group now beelining it over to Maverick. You leaned against the nearby wall watching the interaction with a surprising amount of fondness.

-----

"It's from the gentleman at the end of the bar." You looked up from your seat at the hotel bar, ready to go postal if necessary. When your eyes met Maverick's, you smiled and motioned him over. Jake had long ago disappeared with the rest of the crew to go find booze and food, and probably a darts board.

"It feels like a crime to see you like this, " he commented, laughing, as he sat down. You motioned to yourself, clearly showing off the perfectly tailored dress.

"Is red not my color, Captain Mitchell?" You teased and sipped your drink. He closed his eyes laughing and staring ahead at the illuminated bottles of liquor on the back wall of the bar. You kept your eyes trained on his face.

"I swear to god, you're even giving me some thoughts," he shook his head, pulling his eyes from the bottles to his drink. You laughed and hit his arm.

"I promise you Mav, it's still the bitch you had to work with," you both chuckled. "I just clean up a little better when it's not government issue. Who knew?" You smiled and he turned, offering his glass. There was a loud clink as you met his drink and then took a sip, the burn barely felt after the party and, honestly, your tolerance.

"So when's he back?" you gave Maverick a faux quizzical look and he bought none of it. "Hangman. You're here together," he stated, matter-of-factly. You nodded.

"He's off on another mission in two months. Then back here- Simpson says I can have a job here, civilian or not," you shrugged, "Not sure what else I'm good at, but it's a nice back up. Maybe I'll bartend for Penny...." you winked and earned a terrified laugh from the veteran pilot on your right.

--------

The group that stumbled through the doors of the elegant hotel made for quite a scene. They had all changed out of their uniforms, but shirts were wet and wrinkled, jeans with spots of drinks, stamps on backs of hands and wrists. You and Maverick looked up.

"It's 11pm. They're old," you joked and earned a nod of agreement.

"Yours seems to be missing..."

"No, sir," came the reply behind you and you felt your heart speed up as Jake's hand landed on your shoulder. "Thank you for keeping her company," he said, his accent a bit thicker after some whiskey, no doubt. Maverick smirked and gave you a wink as he headed towards the other elevators, hoping to get some rest away from the drunk horde that had just stumbled in.

"Can I escort you up to your room?" Jake asked, his body now close enough that his smell engulfed you entirely. You closed your eyes and then, taking a deep breath of him nodded. You followed in Maverick's footsteps towards the elevators across from the lobby where the other aviators waited. You knew their eyes were on you, the hairs on your arms standing up out of habit. Jake's hand was on your lower back, but as the ding of the doors sounded and they opened, you felt it slip lower, giving his crewmates a bit of a show.

Once the elevator doors closed, you were pulled together stronger than magnets. You hands were in Jake's hair and he hoisted you up, grateful for the bar halfway up the back wall of the elevator. He propped you there, his legs quickly standing between your legs. You could practically hear Jake's mental cheers at the two slits in the dress, which made this maneuver possible and incredibly sexy.

His lips were all over you, his hands following suit. You brain had gone completely blank of anything except the man in front of you. The last few months had been difficult and full of cerebral soul searching and trauma dumping, but you knew that this was the final piece. You had faced your old life, Jake had respected your rules, and now you could finally molt into the new phase of your life.

You were shaken from the thoughts of only Jake when the elevator dinged again and the doors opened up to your floor. Jake looked at you and then, with no hesitation, scooped you up over his shoulder, your ass in the air. "You have no idea how badly I've wanted to do this since I saw you the first night at the Hard Deck," he groaned, a well-placed smack hitting your ass. You let out a surprised laugh and jake found the key in his pocket, quickly opening the door and carrying you inside, practically throwing you on the bed.

"Oh my god this dress," he sounded almost feral, the Texan drawl incredibly apparent now; you smirked. "Oh fuck, it's going to look so pretty on the floor." You opened your mouth to protest, but Jake was already capturing his lips in yours, kissing you like it was oxygen ad his hands started to undo and tug the dress of your body. You helped him as you pulled at his t-shirt and the buttons on his jeans.

"If they haven't figured it out yet," he said between kissing your lips and leaving marks on your neck, "they're going to figure it out tonight." And that was a promise that Jake did indeed keep.

-------

The next morning in the small bar you had been in the night before, you sipped your coffee, Jake seated across from you looking at the paper. You smirked as you saw the hungover and exhausted pilots stumble out of the elevator. You smirked and nodded to them as Jake gave a wave. The group made their way towards the two of you, ordering coffee and talking to Jake as he promised to text when he was back stateside and then started making plans with Coyote and Payback to go shooting sometime.

You looked at your coffee, happy that most of the awkwardness had subsided. You looked up and caught Rooster's eyes. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck; you were keenly aware that he had either seen and/or heard you last night.

"Ma'am, will you be joining Hangman when he comes back around?"

The room felt as if all the air had been sucked out. No one had dared speak to you. Slowly, everyone looked at you. You took in a breath, placing the small coffee cup down on its saucer.

"I will be, Bradley." you paused, "If that's okay?"

Rooster couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face. "Yes, ma'am. As long as you keep him in line," he added as an afterthought, the laugh he earned breaking up the last bit of tension in the group. You smiled at Jake and took another sip of coffee, savoring it as conversations continued around you. This was certainly something you had not seen as the end of your era, but it wasn't a bad transition you decided.

-------

A/N: That's all folks. This one was HARD to wrap up and it went different than I thought, but I think we all need some fluffy Hangman, right? :) thanks to all those who commented, shared, and liked this story! It means the world!! Send any idea or requests to the inbox, as always! xoxo

-----

Taglist: @alldaysdreamers @ponyboys-sunsets @hopefulinlove @wannabepoe @maverooster @rosiahills22 @ancabifi @multifandom-fangirl4 @dempy @luckyladycreator2 @chlo-feigh @sopheeg @kkrenae @blue-aconite @angirlofallthings22 @rln108 @pricklepearbloom @natasharomanoffisbaebby @loveforaugust @mizzy-pop @lizzie-rdj @mavswife @quackwackfawck @obiwankenobis-lap @icemansgirl1999 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @alitav99 @arieltwvdtohamflash @jostyriggslover96 @notanordinaryprincess95 @luckyladycreator2 @mistressslytherin @fogle97 @thebluelioness @littlebadariell @daisyhollyxox @idfkwhyimhere4357 @actorinfluence @lieutenant-rooster-bradshaw @no-pilots-please @imagineyneyjr  @hey-its-kayla-claire @8oopsiedaisy8

[incorrectpizza]

Leaving Valhalla

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER

This is just a little fanfic I wrote on the fly this weekend because I'm in denial about the end of the movie. Canon-compliant, short and sweet, not terribly well written cause I don't usually do Marvel stuff, but I figured I might as well share this one with the world:

Time seems to be an illusion in Valhalla. The skies are always blue, the sun always shining, the clouds just a spectacle to add contrast, the grass still green despite the lack of rain, the pools of water always clear and deep. Jane spends endless days with Heimdall, and Frigga, and Odin and a hundred other new faces she’s grown to call friends, strange as that term seems in the afterlife. The arrivals are the only stick by which to measure the timelines of other worlds. Jane likes to watch, sometimes, as eerie as it seems. She does not recognize most of those who come, but there have been a few. Most notably, one armed Lady SIf, raging, looking not much older than Jane remembers her. Sometimes she watches the gates, standing tall. She watches as glitter flies in and turns to flesh. 

Until, one day, she spots a figure walking across the horizon, slowly, picking up pace as he nears.

She freezes in recognition as she registers tall, blonde, red cape, Mjolnir!-

“Thor?” 

He stands feet from the gate. He looks…different, somehow. More and less. Taller, more tired, yet also more alive and bright and whole than he’s ever been.

Before she has time to think, or move, she notices a woman behind him, wearing an eerily familiar beanie…

“Darcy!” She practically yelps. Her feet are suddenly freed, flying, and the two women share a quick embrace before she takes her friend at arm’s length to see just how time has treated her. “How did you end up in Valhalla?” “Well, there’s this incursion thing threatening us and there’s this man claiming he’s the smartest man in the multiverse and-”

“We’re not dead.” At first, she doesn’t even notice Thor’s hand on her shoulder. Her brain, instead, plays his words on repeat as they slowly sink in. Not dead. Not dead. Not dead?

“Earth is in grave danger, and Darcy said you were the only one who might be able to help.”

“Wait, you want me-” She gestures wildly, towards herself, away from herself, back to Valhalla, down to earth, as she struggles to understand the impossible. “To return to Earth? Bingo. The universe gets saved, I get my best friend back, you get to spend more time with the God of Thunder-” She ticks off each item on her fingers, and she’s grinning, and stars, Jane can’t believe she’s right here, in front of her. Thor’s hand on her arm, too, feels like a relic from a prior life.

“No. I can’t.” Turning, she breaks free of Thor’s grip, Darcy’s pleading stare She focuses back towards the banquet hall, towards the glassy lakes. This can’t be happening.

“Jane. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want-”

 Her eyes roam the sky and the lush landscape, the sacred, beautiful land that, try as she might, she’s never felt fully at home in. “No, no, it’s not that, Thor. This doesn’t seem…it doesn’t seem right. People don’t leave Valhalla.” Valhalla. A god’s paradise, a mortal’s prison.

“I know.” Thor’s booming voice, etched with concern, is impossible to ignore. “It is not a choice you should make lightly, Jane.”

“Is it-”

“We don’t know for sure it will work, and even if it does…” He trails off.

“Not to rush your little reunion here, but we have seven minutes until Love’s ship goes back with or without us.” Darcy taps her watch - a new accessory, Jane notes, with gems and - is that a ring on Darcy’s finger? She’ll have to ask.

“I’m coming.” Jane takes one last glance around the wild place, gathers up her skirts, and moves towards the ship. She laughs as she catches sight of the goats. 

But before she’s taken three steps, a hand reaches out and stops her. 

“No. Jane. There’s one more thing you should know.” Thor’s eyes glimmer - tears? - as his mouth moves to form gravelly words.

“We can’t be sure the cancer won’t be there when we return.”

Jane’s arm twitches, trembles, as her left hand instinctively reaches to scratch her right wrist. She takes a deep breath, forcing her arms back to her side, fighting off the memories of the pain.

“If you come back, you’ll have to immediately begin intense chemotherapy.”

“I saved a whole bunch of your lab stuff, and it’s all set up in the hospital in New Asgard.” Darcy reassures her as she walks, backward, towards the ship, pointing at her watch once again.

Jane closes her eyes, opening them slowly, thumbing the scar on her lower arm. 

“I’m still in.” 

“I can’t let you pick up Mjolnir again.” Thor’s voice even lower, barely a whisper, as he fingers the hammer's strap reverently. “But thankfully this time, the world needs Doctor Jane Foster, not the Mighty Thor.”

[sweetwolfcupcake]

hi! i absolutely loved love poison, like the whole wedding vows just gave me chills. not to annoy you but can you do another part (even if it’s just in flashbacks) where it shows how reader and namjoon met, fell in love, and how their relationship was before reader discovered who namjoon was? hope you have a good day!

Love Poison #3

Flashbacks in italics

***

It was cliché- a chilled spring evening with (Y/N) skipping her way towards the café she was supposed to meet her best friend with. Ever since she had joined college, she rarely had any time left for—

She saw the shirt before she could cease her skips. She was a few moments too late and before she knew it, all she could see was black. Her senses flooded with the fragrance of pinewood and a hint of vanilla. It was soothing…And embarrassing as her face remained pressed against the chest of the man in black shirt for a moment too long and she ended up red and bowing ceaselessly in apology.

She did not even have the courage to look up. She felt heat radiating off her ears and cheeks and tongue slipping.

The stranger chuckled “Hey, it’s alright, please straighten up.” the voice was molten dark chocolate with a tinge of roasted cinnamon yet possessed a caramel sweetness to it.

And it immediately made her gaze rise. He was a sight for the sore eyes, cinnamon skin, deep dents on his cheeks, a swan neck, wide but fit form, a heart-melting smile and eyes twinkle with amusement. He was taller, standing proudly around six feet, his hair was set perfectly and a pair of spectacles hung from the hem of his shirt’s neckline.

(Y/N) blinked, stuttering an apology one last time but he only shook his head. “It’s alright, really, I was wondering if you were hurt? You are not. Are you?” he asked kindly.

“Oh no, no, I’m—”

“(Y/N)! We are here!” one of her friends called out from the end of the cafe, finally taking notice of her (abrupt) arrival.

You passed them a nervous smile and waved.

“Seems like you already have an engagement, I was considering coffee.”

“Huh?” she was dumbfounded by his words. Why would such a piece of perfection want to have coffee with her? Besides, he was a stranger, a handsome one indeed, but still a stranger.

“I…I need to go. My friends are waiting.” she mumbled out, still dazed before rushing towards her best friends. She did wish to turn once but did not have the courage perhaps.

---+++---

It was all still blurry and her eyes were heavy and exhausted, her brain was muddled, her thoughts under the grip of pure fear and panic. Her stomach churned, but she could barely speak.

Everything hurt, she had never felt so helpless before. Fingers patted her head, the voice was far off and beyond her and before she knew it, she was slipping into oblivion again.

---+++---

She could not believe she was sitting in the very cafe she had met the beautiful stranger before. And she was sitting in front of him at a corner table. They had met again, and this time, she could not bring herself to decline his proposal of a friendly coffee date.

And his name was Kim Namjoon, and while some (many) of their interests matched, he was way out of her league. He was a successful businessman, one of the youngest and she was yet to finish college.

“You have been quiet, are you always this quiet? Or am I missing the mark?” he had the familiar amusement dancing in his eyes and she ended up being flustered once more.

“Oh me? I am quiet around strangers—I mean beautiful strangers—shit—Uh, I mean just strangers…You know?” and by the time she finished, he was chuckling and she had a burst of nervous laughter bubbling out of her.

“Yes, I understand, I know what you mean. But since we are here for coffee and getting to know each other, we are not strangers anymore, are we?”

Actually, he was right. They were not actually strangers, they were not friends either.

----

One meeting had given hope for another, then another, and another. And one day, Namjoon wanted to go somewhere else. They had taken out their bikes and had ventured to the city forest. It was so beautiful and would have been perfect had it not been for four men following them around.

“For safety reasons” Namjoon had explained that being a man of eminence came with certain threats. But he assured her that they would not be a bother.

And they were not. She and Namjoon enjoyed the sunset and while the sun melted into the horizon, their lips melted together into a warm, promising kiss, their warmth found each other and the world around them just…Vanished

—--+++----

The world appeared in glimpses, in fragments, in muddled shapes- familiar but not distinguishable. But she could feel the arms carrying her, the warmth against her cheek felt familiar too, she was close, so close to guessing. But the warmth vanished and she felt the cool but soft surface underneath.

There was a voice speaking, but it seemed so far off and muffled, she could barely catch anything. But she did feel a cool sensation encircling her ankles. The rest was consumed by an imposed slumber.

---+++---

A person would meet many, many people in their life, but there were truly a few with whom they form a true connection. There were so many people she had met so many people before, (Y/N) had been in relationships before, she had fallen in love before. But the connection she shared with Kim Namjoon was something she had never felt before, it was almost…epiphanic.

Her first love was…well, magical, and she had never stopped reminiscing about the boy and the memories they shared. But with Namjoon, it was peaceful, it was as if she had known him since…forever.

“What do you mean ‘the most beautiful moment of your life’?”

They were on the terrace of his penthouse, a luxurious space with a minimalist approach to interiors.

And Namjoon had included a few warm touches of her presence in his life, a framed picture of them both in his(their) bedroom- they had taken the picture on their first date- in the city forest. A few of her night pyjama sets and nightgowns in his closet, her favourite brands of ramen and ice tea packs stocked up in his kitchen and refrigerator. She had also caught sight of a picture of hers laying safely in one of his desk drawers in his study.

“Well, you see, the moment that rattles you, that one that either brings forth a life-changing epiphany or sets the course for your destiny,” Namjoon replied.

“Well, you never know until you are old enough.” (Y/N) reflected.

“What if I do know.”

“Really?” she quirked an eyebrow.

Namjoon turned to her, the soft lighting made him glow, or perhaps he did glow under the night sky. His gaze was even softer.

“What if it is right now.”

“What?” she chuckled out, even though her heart thrummed and her cheeks heated up.

“What if…What if the most beautiful moment of my life is the moment I realise that I am in love with you?” his words were sincere, and his gaze the most honest reflection of his heart.

(Y/N) could not hold back the tears, it was an inexplicable state of emotions, her mind was scattered, yet she was all too fuzzy and warm within. Although she shared a profound bond with Namjoon, she had never spoken out her feelings for him, she had not been confident herself. But his confession made her realize that she indeed was, deeply, irrevocably, immersively in love with Kim Namjoon.

And his confession might have been the most beautiful moment in her life.

“Say something?” Namjoon sounded a bit unsure of himself.

And she did not need to wait any longer before pulling him into a warm, desperate kiss.

---+++---

Her eyes were bleary and vision, muddled and flickering. From her head to toe, she felt the heaviness weighing upon her. It took her a few good minutes to come around and be able to fully assess the situation she was in. The first thing she noticed, was that she was not in a bride’s gown anymore, instead, it was a comfortable nightgown, it was soothing to her skin but also thin and light. She felt a shudder due to the cool atmosphere in the room. Everything was pristine and so familiar—

“No!” the flashes flooded her mind and floated before her one after another, overwhelming her in the process.

“No, no, no!”

She was trapped!

She was in the very penthouse that tormented her dreams and she was trapped in unholy matrimony. Or was that to be even considered one?

A tug on her ankles made her realise that she was unable to quite separate them. Panicked and bewildered, she threw away the comforter keeping her lower half warm. And to her horror, a pair of handcuffs greeted her, holding a familiar malevolent gleam under the artificial light. They oddly reminded her of the way the dreadful gun gleamed laying on the floor.

She let out a quivering breath, trying in vain to contain the sob so vehement on erupting from her throat. And it did erupt, with so much a force that she had to palm her mouth. Her lips would not cease wobbling and soon, she was a shivering, tearful, hiccupping mess.

Every memory turned sour to her, all the sweetness evaporating into nothing but bitter residues. Probably, there was nothing true about him- Kim Namjoon, the man she was smitten with and probably still loved. As shameful as the acknowledgement could be, she knew that it was impossible to just unlove someone. At least to her, it was.

She had failed to sense the approaching footsteps and the door opening soundlessly. It was only after that a pair of arms engulfed her and the nauseatingly familiar cologne surrounded her that she jumped back into her senses. Her movements, though, were restricted by the arms.

“Oh, Jagi, what happened here? Poor girl, you have been sobbing so hard.” Namjoon’s warmth suffocated her, his embrace suffocated her. But he was not letting go.

She looked up to him, fear clouding her mind as residual tears had her vision. He was the same man she had loved, the very man who had smitten her with his gentle disposition and subtle shyness, his stunning intellect and sarcastic sense of humour. How could she not love such a man? But the man holding her was not the same man, his eyes no more seemed gentle, instead, there was a glint of malice in them, his touch no longer felt the same, it was cold and alien to (Y/N).

“H-How could you? How could you?” she found her voice back soon enough.

“You are thirsty Jagi? You should have warm water. Dinner would be here soon.” his voice was laced with concern as his eyes scanned her form.

She realised that whatever he had given her, it had kept her unconscious for hours. It was dark outside, she could see that through the window. He helped her with the glass of water placed on the nightstand, her throat felt parched anyway.

“Why would you…How could you…” she was still coping, but the most recent discovery left her horrified.

She gripped the restraints encircling her ankles and tried to yank them off.

“That’s useless, you know it.” the nonchalance in his voice flared her temper, all of the helplessness, anguish, frustration came forth and without a second thought, her hand rose and struck him across his face.

The burn on her palm felt satisfying, but he had barely flinched, only shut his eyes and tilted his head, but she could see the way his jaws tightened. He turned to her, gaze cold and cheeks sucked in fury, but he smiled, a slow, sinuous smile that made her tremble.

“Thank your stars that I love you.” he drawled, his gaze turning frosty, making her breathing hitched. Her fear must have shown as his eyes softened once more.

“I know you are upset, Love. And I truly hate seeing you cry. I had to take necessary precautions, you see? Look, (Y/N), please, look at me.”

But how could she? It was turning increasingly challenging to keep her eyes on him. Every time she looked into his eyes, she felt the once-dream-like garden of their love rotting away into a foul state, with his actions, with his betrayal, he had defiled something as pure as their love. And he dared to still claim to love her?

“You are a monster,” she whispered out, making his eyes narrow at her “You are a monster Namjoon and I do not remember falling in love with one.”

“Keep this up and you will never be free.”

“Why? Isn’t the wedding vows enough? I’m tied down forever, am I not?” she spat.

“I’m talking of these, Jagi.” he asserted, his fingers trailing lightly over the gleaming cuffs, making her skin crawl.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Want to find out?”

(Y/N) felt her heart drop, the cuffs felt to be sitting a bit too tight on her skin, almost biting it- as if they had teeth of their own- she knew it was just her mind but the fear of never being free again did not help.

“All I want is new beginnings, for us, for our love. We are married, Jagi, is it not amazing?”

She sighed and looked away. Was he delusional even? But the fingers gripping her jaw compelled her eyes to meet his.

“Look at me,” Namjoon warned

But his next words turned her dreaded anticipation into reality. She was not surprised, but her throat had surely dried.

“And we will start with our wedding night, Jagi.”

****

A very Happy and Incredible New Year, all we can wish for in these tough times is that we all remain safe and healthy. I joined Tumblr this year and had never expected to receive so much support and love. Thank you to all of my lovely readers and friends. Have a great year ahead!

@sunshyngal @manchuria @illnevertrustmyselfagain @raynom @iceprincessviviane @omgsuperstarg( Kindly remind me if I have missed anyone)