#they both didn’t get to achieve that dream because society is shit

[https-bwi]

a little piece that i made for my creative writing workshop *^^*

(i wrote it in both tagalog and english but the tagalog version has extra parts and they ended not completely differently??)

[luthorao3]

Hey babe, could I get a "You're cold. Come here" for foxxay, please?

And 100% you do the build up to the big moments better than anyone I know, bitch

I hope you're feeling better 💖

darling <3 i would move the moon for you were it in my power! i'm setting this vaguely within the Camomile and Chlorine AU setting simply because i can and i have missed it kind of dearly.

Dusk, and the air pools like tepid water in around Cordelia’s ankles.

“Pick a hand,” Misty tells her, and holds out two closed fists. “Any hand.”

They’re sitting at Myrtle’s wicker bench set, one on either side and facing each other. One of Misty’s legs swings back-and-forth beneath the table, occasionally bumping Cordelia’s shin – cool where she’s removed her shoes. Their empty dinner plates have been stacked to one side, a candle burns just off-centre, and the cicadas chirp their mellow music to herald in the night. Cordelia tucks a hand around her wine glass, the other just beneath her chin. She eyes Misty’s closed fists with a quiet kind of intrigue.

“What’s in them?”

“In this one,” Misty says, shaking her right fist, “are all your hopes and dreams.”

Laughter bubbles up from Cordelia’s belly before she can think to hold it back.

“And in the other,” Misty says, eyes narrowed, pointedly ignoring her, “is everything that you tell yourself is more important. Work. Job. Career.”

“They’re all the same thing—”

“Reputation,” Misty talks over her, prompting Cordelia to laugh again. While she makes a valiant attempt to hold back her own amusement, she's clearly straining to keep her expression neutral. “Money. You know what I mean. All that stuff society tells you is important. Shit, I don’t know… a fancy car.”

“Okay,” Cordelia agrees, tucking a smile into her glass.

“So,” Misty says, and nods expectantly.

“So?”

“Why, how much have you had to drink, darlin’? Pick one.”

The pet name rolls off her tongue like it’s nothing, meant to tease, to jab, a barb against Cordelia’s inability to keep up with the way that Misty’s thoughts spiral into one another, and yet— Cordelia prays the night is too deep, the light from their candle too weak, to show the true extent of her blush. She takes another sip of wine. She clears her throat, twice.

“Well,” finally, eyeing Misty’s hands and not the amusement that dances like a will-o-the-wisp inside her eyes, “that seems like a silly question.”

“It’s absolutely not,” Misty insists, “but tell me why.”

“The answer’s obvious, isn’t it? The second option makes the first option achievable.” When Misty’s expression cracks with a frown, Cordelia elaborates: “Money. A successful career. I’d be able to build my life exactly how I want it – my house, my lifestyle, my travel… my brand new fancy car. It seems like it’s a no-brainer.”

Misty nods, expression guarded.

“But,” Cordelia says, and lowers her glass to the table. “But the way you said it, the two options you gave me, you make it sound like that second option doesn’t already include all my hopes and dreams. You make it sound like they can’t be mutually exclusive.”

“Huh. I guess I did.”

If Cordelia didn’t know better – if Cordelia had, perhaps, not already finished that first glass of wine – she’d call Misty’s expression knowing.

“Which suggests,” Cordelia continues, “that there’s something else I want. Some other… hope or dream. Something I’d want more than financial security, or a nice house, or a successful career. Some other, secret wish I’ve been hiding, maybe.” A giddy pulse trembles through her veins, but where Cordelia had meant to tease, she only finds herself wondering – if, perhaps, she’s accidentally hit some kind of mark that she’d never even known to aim for. “Something… better.”

Across from her, limned in silver, Misty tilts her head ever so carefully to one side and catches starlight in her eyes.

For a heartbeat, Cordelia loses her breath and her train of thought.

“So,” Misty says again, and emphasises both fists still held aloft, waiting for Cordelia’s answer. “What’s the verdict?”

Cordelia holds her gaze for a spell longer, asking herself that same question.

And maybe she’s a little tipsy. Maybe it’s the night time air and the spell that it casts over her, sometimes, filling her lungs and her head with fancy. Maybe it’s just because it’s Misty asking, and if Cordelia can be her true self with anybody, if she can expose the bones and bricks of herself, the foundations, the roots so deep even she may be looking upon them for the first time, she knows she’s at least in safe company.

Maybe it’s just a game and it doesn’t have to be that deep.  

But when she reaches out to pick a hand, there is no hesitation.

Her fingers settle over Misty’s right fist, a barely-there weight and yet heavy as an anchor. A declaration of intention. A promise. A secret.

“Jesus!” Misty hisses, and the moment bursts like the pressure equalising inside Cordelia’s ears.

She almost manages to draw her hand away before Misty is capturing it between both her own.

“You’re cold. Come here.”

Cordelia hesitates just long enough for Misty to tug on her hand, to threaten to pull her over the table herself, and then Cordelia is standing, losing Misty’s touch, making her way around the table. Misty shifts up the bench and does not hesitate to draw Cordelia into the warm spot she’s just vacated, to wrap her arms around her and rock the pair of them, laughing, from side to side.

Then their laughter calms, and the rocking stops, and they’re still sitting with their arms about each other, daring the chill air to part them.

Misty tucks her cheek against Cordelia’s shoulder and muffles her yawn.

“What is it, anyway?” she asks, blinking the moisture from her eyes. “This big, secret hope-and-or-dream you’re hiding from me?”

Cordelia’s smile is a private thing, hidden, at this angle, from Misty’s wondering gaze.

She feels very full of something. Something warm and bright and electric. Something that sparks inside her belly and makes her want to laugh, again, that she has to clamp her teeth around the soft inside of her cheek to keep it down. Repressing it makes her muscles shake, which Misty only mistakes as a shiver and holds her ever tighter.

“I don’t know… maybe I don’t have a name for it, yet.”

“Maybe you’ll tell me, when you do,” Misty whispers, and Cordelia relaxes in her arms.

Maybe I already have.

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

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

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

[adifferenttime]

Andrew Ryan vs. Robert House

On almost every House post I make, someone in the notes will reliably reference Andrew Ryan. I totally get it - they look similar, they're based on the same guy, the parallels are so clear that the NV dev team added an achievement for killing House with a golf club - but I think these commonalities tend to engulf both characters, blotting out some of their more interesting ideological/personal differences. It's useful to examine them in relation to one another, but part of that is figuring out what distinguishes them, which is just what I’ve attempted to do.

It's difficult for me to talk about Randian objectivism because I don't think it's sound enough to address on its own terms, but considering this is the philosophy Andrew Ryan has adopted, I kind of have to. What I’d identify as the core premise of Randian ethics is this: altruism is a moral wrong. Some Randians have argued that isn't really what they believe - that the real point is anything resembling altruism is self-interest in disguise - but they're departing from the beliefs of their icon when they make those claims. Per Rand:

The irreducible primary of altruism, the basic absolute is self-sacrifice – which means self-immolation, self-abnegation, self-denial, self-destruction – which means the self as a standard of evil, the selfless as a standard of the good.

The way Rand defines altruism is by linking it to self-sacrifice, which she uses to differentiate it from kindness or benevolence. Aiding others at no cost to yourself is benevolent, but not altruistic, and therefore not evil. Sacrificing your happiness to help another human being is, from Rand's perspective, evil, as is any philosophy that prioritizes the other at the cost of the self. This whole idea has been broadly rejected by most scholars on account of it being really fucking stupid. What justifies the leap from "man is naturally selfish" to "selfishness is good"? If selfishness is moral, wouldn't the most moral behavior be to exploit others through whatever means necessary, favoring force over the market? Rand defines happiness as "using your mind’s fullest power," achievable only when you "do not consider the pleasure of others as the goal," but why is this the only definition? What if your only options are self-sacrificial in nature? How do you weigh them if neither sacrifice is linked to values, individual achievement, or "your mind's fullest power" at all? Rand didn't care because she was too busy trying to ethically justify cheating on her man with her best friend's husband, but nonetheless, this is the philosophy Andrew Ryan’s adopted. He claims that "Altruism is the root of all Wickedness," in what's almost a direct quote from Rand herself.

To that end, Ryan builds a system that doesn’t just accept selfishness but actively incentivizes it. Every other principle he expresses is subservient to the ideas that selfishness rules man, and that for Ryan to act on his own selfish impulses is the highest good in the world. His lesser political principles (individual liberties, negative rights, the creation of a stateless society) don’t matter to him as much as the central precept from which they stem: that selfishness is his moral imperative.

What is the greatest lie every created? What is the most vicious obscenity ever perpetrated on mankind? Slavery? The Holocaust? Dictatorship? No. It's the tool with which all that wickedness is built: altruism.

It doesn't come as a particular surprise to me when he starts imprisoning dissidents or executing rivals or banning theft (standard practice in most societies, but not what an egoist would pursue; if you can get away with taking it, you deserve to have it, or so the thinking goes). I’ve seen him described as a hypocrite, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true considering everything he does is in line with his opposition to altruism. He'll adhere to his other principles only if they don’t sabotage his pursuit of personal power. This is evident in the fact that he only adopts a negative perception of Fontaine when his own interests are threatened, but doesn’t give two shits what Fontaine might be doing to sow conflict and harm people before that point. A guy named Gregory asks Ryan to step in against Fontaine early on before Fontaine's fully established himself as a threat to Ryan's power, and Ryan's extremely blase about it.

Don't expect me to punish citizens for showing a little initiative. If you don't like what Fontaine is doing, well, I suggest you find a way to offer a better product.

Contrast this with how he reacts when Fontaine has risen as a genuine business rival. This is from the log titled "Fontaine Must Go."

Something must be done about Fontaine. While I was buying buildings and fish futures, he was cornering the market on genotypes and nucleotide sequences. Rapture is transforming before my eyes. The Great Chain is pulling away from me.

This double standard is the natural outgrowth of his prioritization of self-interest. If your most deeply-held belief is that you should never give up your interests for others, ancillary rules become flexible in times of personal crisis, and Bioshock makes the case that putting someone like that in charge of a city will leave you with a crumbling, monstrous ruin.

Superficially, House has some similarities. Ryan executes political rivals; House has you blow up a bunker of his ideological opponents. Ryan is the highest authority in Rapture; House is the absolute monarch of Vegas. Their goals and moral codes, though, are almost diametrically opposed. When you ask House why you’re expected to trust him when he’s openly admitting to installing himself as the despot of the New Vegas Strip, he says this:

I have no interest in abusing others... Nor have I any interest in being worshipped as some kind of machine-god messiah. I am impervious to such corrupting ambitions.

Most of his resources are devoted to large-scale, impersonal projects, aimed either at building the power of Vegas or securing his long term goal of “progress” as he sees it. He’s rejected selfishness as a moral good because House is very far from Randian objectivism. He's a Hobbesian monarch.

In that respect, he shares an outlook on human nature with Ryan that I deeply disagree with (that human beings are essentially selfish), but in terms of what that means for the structure of a utopian society, House takes a very different position. From his perspective, human nature breeds suffering, not industriousness, and the only way to stamp out conflict - and, in a post-nuclear age, ensure the continued survival of the human race - is through a strong sovereign. The purpose of a state as laid out in Leviathan aligns very, very closely with the one House expresses.

...the foresight of their own preservation, and of a more contented life thereby; that is to say, of getting themselves out from that miserable condition of war which is necessarily consequent, as hath been shown, to the natural passions of men...

The monarch's successes are reflected in his society and the well-being of humanity as a whole. To subvert his goals is to subvert society's goals, and to doom humanity to the war, death, and suffering that exist in a state of nature. When you destroy his Securitrons/kill him, he doesn't plead for himself or get offended on his own behalf. He accuses you of betraying not him, but mankind.

Single-handedly, you've brought mankind's best hopes of forward progress crashing down. No punishment would be too severe. Fool... to let... personalities... derail future... of mankind? ...Stupid! Slavery... the future of... mankind? What... have you... done?

An important corollary of this idea which again distinguishes House from Ryan appears in Leviathan’s description of the political/moral responsibility of a monarch to his subjects:

...that great Leviathan, or rather, to speak more reverently, of that mortal god to which we owe, under the immortal God, our peace and defence. For by this authority... he hath the use of so much power that, by terror thereof, he is enabled to form the wills of them all, to peace at home, and mutual aid against their enemies abroad.

Hobbes and House give the monarch virtually unlimited power but match it to the monarch's duty, which he lives to fulfill. His obligation is to speak for the people, act for them, and protect them from all threats, internal and external. House generally abides by this, orienting his decisions around his goals for society irrespective of the personal cost (the negative consequences of his actions are a product of his fucked evaluations of what’s best for society, not personal greed). It’s not just a departure from Ryan’s philosophy but a complete refutation of it. He's almost died for what he's misidentified as the greatest good.

Given that I had to make do with buggy software, the outcome could have been worse. I nearly died as it was…. I spent the next few decades in a veritable coma.

This is not the behavior of an egoist. This is the behavior of an extremely arrogant but marginally altruistic (from a Randian perspective lmao) guy. This is some distorted “from each according to his ability” shit if you’ve managed to convince yourself your abilities exceed those of everyone else who has ever lived and that you can get the Mandate of Heaven by being really good at statistics.

The reason these guys develop such similar structures and hierarchies despite the ideological gulfs between them is because both of them are elitists who’ve experienced a massive failure of self-consciousness. They’re unable to conceive of other people as being fundamentally like them. Ryan separates people into the clearly-delineated classes of “producer” and “parasite,” ignoring the fact that everything he’s ever “produced” was reliant on a huge, coordinated effort between workers, architects, accountants, middlemen, and others, all of whom, in conjunction, contributed more to the realization of his dreams that he ever could have alone. Rather than realizing his own position is more parasitic and reliant on other people’s labor than that of anyone else in Rapture, he adheres to his doctrine of selfishness even when it’s not reflective of reality and is ruining the the lives of an entire city of people. He deludes himself into believing he’s a superman among ants instead of one flawed man who is reliant on the goodwill of others to help him survive, as are we all.

House, too, thinks he’s exceptional. Unlike Ryan, he acknowledges the necessity of the worker to a functioning society, but while he’ll accept his reliance on that labor, he doesn’t trust the laborer enough to share political power. House knows he’s invested in humanity’s survival and the creation of a better world, but he refuses to consider that he might not be alone in this goal. He chalks up the existence of the Legion to fanaticism/the ambitions of a sultanistic dictator and attributes everything the NCR has done to greed, without it ever occurring to him that the massive harm these nations have done was partially motivated by the same goals he’s devoted himself to - and that the atrocities he’s committed since his rise to power are, in some respects, very similar. House knows himself to be invested in the well-being of humanity, but he’s too arrogant to ask himself if his methods are wrong or trust other people to build a new path, one that doesn’t necessitate his complete control over the land and people of the Mojave. Ryan and House’s worldviews are distinct, and their flaws, as highlighted by their respective narratives, say some interesting things about how each set of devs view power and the pitfalls of elitism.

Anyway. If you put these two men in a room, they would probably try to murder each other, and I think that’s great.

[sendmyresignation]

In Defense of Teenagers:

Ok so. There seems to be a general consensus that Teenagers doesn’t fit on the black parade or that it ruins the trajectory of the album or that the song order of bp needs to be changed to fit the b-sides and drop Teenagers, or it should have just been a single- basically any option other than its inclusion between Sleep and Disenchanted would have been better. now, i’m not here to tell anyone that they’re wrong- i just want to offer an alternative perspective because i truly believe Teenagers is right where it belongs and that its inclusion on that album is, in my opinion, completely necessary to the album’s narrative arc. I want to focus on the way Teenagers builds into the foundation of the Concept Record, the way it bridges the gap between Sleep and Disenchanted so as not to delegitimize Disenchanted’s impact, and the fact that no other available material fits into the struggle the Patient endures at the end of the narrative (sorry this got LONG here’s a read more)

So, before we get into the meat of Teenager’s narrative significance, i wanted to briefly mention the way it makes Black Parade a more cohesive whole in relation to the material it is mimicking. Like Black Parade as an album is structured very differently from Pink Floyd’s The Wall- but it takes a lot of the same beats and recontextualizes them for a new purpose. Both records use war and relationship troubles and school and drugs to create an atmosphere that leads to disillusionment. In The Wall, this is quite literally the protagonist, Pink, building up “bricks in the wall” that isolates him from the rest of society and lead to a downward spiral into cynicism and hate. But Black Parade uses the same tools that The Wall does to say something different- things, specifically the actions you've made or the trauma you've endured, haunts you and makes your life seem insignificant in the face of what happens to you and those regrets are what causes the Patient to fall into a cycle of damnation and cynicism. This is representative of the Patient's descent through the afterlife- each new "layer" of the Patient's exploration is equivalent to a brick in The Wall's metaphor. Additionally, in this new context, this song in particular takes The Wall’s discussions of adolescence and the vice-grip control older generations attempt to force on teens and the disillusionment with the future and retells it from a new perspective- both literally in the fact the song is now more reflective of the 2000s post-9/11 and post-columbine culture, but its also literally from the perspective of the Patient as an adult. Teenagers, as a result, becomes a necessary piece of that puzzle- it is the refraction of Another Brick in the Wall repurposed to mean something new entirely- it’s no longer about kids being forced into complacency by a cruel education system from their own perspective (the children’s choir allows them to speak for themselves) but about the ways in which adults see those kids and why they decide to enact actions similar to those within The Wall. I mean even the imagery used in the song’s music video is purposely almost plagiarizing The Wall- it feeds into a separate analysis of the video and song outside the narrative as well- which i don’t have time right now to get into, its just very interesting that the band is bodily removed from their instruments at the end of the video and the teenagers in the audience have rendered them incapacitated (“they’re looking for a rockstar to kill” anyone?) it's the metaphorical tearing down of the wall from a completely different perspective. Anyway, the work Teenagers does for the narrative is it fits the album into the Concept Record Cinematic Universe- it is a piece that evokes the material it is influenced by to build off of the old to create the new- without it, the connections to The Wall would still be there, sure, but it wouldn’t be as complete- you cannot recontextualize the album without the foundation of Teenagers.

Teenagers is also, at its core, a subtle subversion of genre- using the blueprint of a specific kind of song to center the song within the timeline/narrative. In this case, the same way I Don’t Love You mimics and exaggerates the emotive and plaintive 80s rock ballad, Teenagers twists the classic rock of a bygone era to specifically call back on the stadium rock anthem.  Black Parade, on the whole, does this quite frequently- most of its songs take pre-existing genre cues and subverts them in ways that play off of the expected tapestry of a concept record to create individual sounding songs that seamlessly transition into one another yet remain entirely separate. It maintains their presence as scenes in a larger tapestry- specifically the fabric of the Black Parade being a morality play. This serves two purposes, it allows for this exaggeration of genre to become a motif within the work (see mama, cancer, house of wolves, i don’t love you, wttbp -> they all play with a different, varied song type/structure that is distinct from each other) and it plays off of existing genre-stereotypes in ways that contribute to the songs overall function. I Don’t Love You, for example, undermines the fundamental purposes of sappy power ballads- to express one of the two dualities of love songs: the cheesy unconditional “i will love you forever” types or the plaintive, melancholic end-of-relationship song by instead focusing on the complexity of a not-quite-finished relationship. The ballad then shifts from an expression of love to one of human loss- and the loss is less about the individual speaking, but moreso about what the other character has become - it’s a mourning not for the relationship, but for the person themselves, who they used to be in a way. It shifts from the one-dimensional view of what a ballad can achieve and instead infuses the anger, the resignation, the drama, the transformation- it humanizes a very stock genre full of platitudes and uses our expectations to create something more interesting. Similarly, Teenagers takes a tired genre and utilizes the working mechanisms of its typical song structure to subvert and repurpose those into commentary- its literally a stadium rock song that devolves into a chant. Looking at the loud drumbeat that resonates in your chest, the all together now as a command that lures the listener into singing along, the addition of more chorus vocals at the end like a crowd is shouting along, the screaming and the solo on after another like the song is falling apart a little bit, all of these elements build into a song literally meant to be infectious and replicated by the audience. Herein lies one of the songs many interpretations- humans can be easily influenced by the media they consume, the perspectives they are fed. What happens when the view that we have of adolescence is cloaked in mistrust and violence? This aspect of the song is less about the band reconciling teenagers being moved to committing acts of violence and more in analyzing how an audience can be persuaded into believing the erroneous view of teens as fundamentally destructive- are you not repeating the chorus? do teenagers not “scare the shit out of you”? Obviously the band doesn’t want you to believe this but it does what you to think about why this perspective is so common. It's a cultural subliminal message that is present in songs and tv and books that we simply do not question- it is a chant we cannot help but join in on. Teenagers is a replication of that process, but is clearly just subversive enough (both as a piece of genre and just as a song in general terms) that the listener knows its commentary and not itself propagating that viewpoint. Every song on Black Parade does this kind of “genre-bending” to make a point in some way or another, so it's a significant reason Teenagers fits into the albums cohesion.

But,Teenagers isn’t just important to the album in its sound- it lyrically parallels Disenchanted in a way that effectively moves on from Sleep without losing the album’s emotional momentum. Sleep, conceptually and lyrically, is a very heavy track- its influence from the Dune soundtrack’s Final Dream turn a cinematic, swelling piece of instrumentation into an oppressive blanket of noise that bears down on the listener and the lyrics are referential to the patient believing themselves to be irredeemable and monstrous. It's also inspired directly from Gerard’s vivid and violent night terrors during his stay at the paramour- including a recording of Gerard’s recollection of those dreams, that mentions being choked, seeing loved ones die, burning alive, etc. To transition directly from such a dark, personal subject into a reflective acoustic number about the narrator’s adolescence would be tonally inappropriate and almost laughable- it would stop the progression in its tracks, while also doing a disservice to Disenchanted. Having a break is necessary! And it's even more appropriate for that break to be a song about teenagers considering Disenchanted is so nostalgic. Additionally, Teenagers brings up a really interesting narrative thread about the Patient becoming disenchanted with the youth that then directly transitions into a song about him losing faith in his values and sense of self- they are directly correlated conceptually. Looking deeper, Disenchanted is a punk song. sort of. more specifically, it is the foundation of a punk song that becomes a ballad through narrative framing- it takes punk cliches (running from the cops, the crowds, the imagery of guillotining traitorous rich celebrities) and turns them wistful and sad because the Patient is looking back at something they no longer understand or identify with, it allows the narrative to illustrate how the Patient feels like their life was worthless and didn’t amount to much and they’re just another stupid punk kid who grew up and didn’t achieve anything. and you can’t get to this point from Sleep because it would weaken Disenchanted’s impact, make it seem insignificant and petulant in the face of Sleep’s heavy and grand sorrow. Lyrically, you need Teenagers to bridge the gap between the war metaphors and the visualizations of hell and the all-encompassing nature of cancer in order to redirect the focus to the Patient and limit the scope of the narrative at the end of the album. Teenagers, within the story, then functions as the Patient reflecting on the nature of youth and, in the wake of Mama’s “we all go to hell” rhetoric, comes to the conclusion that teenagers are wholly violent, easily manipulated, and unsympathetic. It's another step in the Patient removing his own agency and viewing his life as predestined at the same time it allows the “plot” to focus back on the more nostalgic and mundane aspects of the patient’s life. Doing so makes Famous Last Words so much more significant because it forces the Patient to reconcile with his past before he can move forward (whether that's living or dying its still applicable). so, Teenagers is very important to the overall “plot” of Black Parade- it is fundamentally necessary for the pieces to fit together.

Another larger aspect of Teenagers' importance is that it introduces the fate versus free will internal debate central to the ending fourth of the record. The song lays the foundation for this thematic idea by being about the fated violence of the youth and how they cannot help but to respond to their world with anger and cruelty. This realization about adolescence by the Patient leads to him perceiving his own youth as destructive and worthless and in following the themes of guilt/regret and damnation it's this violence that began his path to hell or his current state of suffering.  In that vein, Teenagers leads into the idea that your life is predetermined or that there is a destiny that we all have (in the Patient’s case its the absence of a future, or “a lifelong wait for a hospital stay”) and no matter what, you cannot fight that. While Mama gives a blanket statement about how "we all go to hell", Disenchanted centers the Patient's specific destiny by saying his whole life has led up to his illness and, looking further, there is the implication that life before that was retrospectively pointless. So, as previously mentioned, Disenchanted begins, structurally and lyrically, as a punk song- this sort of expression of youthful existence that, in any other song or under another faster instrumentation, would fit on some basement demo from 1986. But it doesn't stay that way, instead it actively subverts the genre it's cliches are lifted from- thinking specifically about “we ran from the cops” and the “roar of the crowd” that is juxtaposed with the change in structure  or theme. Namely, punk songs (speaking generally here) aren’t wistful because there isn't really a sense of legacy in punk music. There's history yes, but most songs are about the immediacy of emotion, not existential questioning. The retrospective nature and the shift into a ballad structure are elements reflective of a change in the main character brought on by the disillusionment present in teenagers from a punk kid to a dying young man looking back on the banality of youth and the hypocrisy, the trauma and the lack of agency. It's so much easier to think that nothing matters and the perspective makes it so much easier to give up.

This build from Teenagers into Disenchanted regarding the Patient's fate allows Famous Last Words to become an even stronger end because it's in direct opposition to that perspective. Famous Last Words is a song that screams fuck fate and fuck the past- the only thing that matters is moving forward. The image of the Patient keeping on whether he’s walking into the afterlife or continuing to stay alive as long as possible becomes something difficult, something he had to fight to achieve - he had to struggle to find a new understanding. That he can't be "afraid to keep living" or "going home" and that these are concrete actions, a use of free will. And that free will is very specifically defiant. Regardless of how you view the Patient's end, he makes the conscious decision to accept the present and move forward. We are not fated to die alone, nor is life worthless. Black Parade proves that the opposite is true, that we must grow to accept the value of life, and it's so much stronger having the Patient actively reject nihilism and apathy. Ultimately, Teenagers introduces the main thread of the final songs and without it, those songs would be narrative incomplete.

So, Teenagers has a valued place on the album sonically and within the narrative whole, that much is clear. But another reason that the album order of Sleep, Teenagers and Disenchanted is important is that none of the other material written for the album comes close to filling its place. In this case, I am going to be specifically talking about the b-sides since the demos are incomplete and we have no idea what the final version would have sounded like (but I would contend they don’t fit either). Beginning with the easiest song to discard from the narrative- My Way Home Is Through You has its moments in the lyrics but it's completely out of place musically- plus the tone is a little too hopeful for this point in the album which does not gel with Disenchanted’s hopelessness. It's also incongruent with the album since Disenchanted is effective as the only “punk” song on a record that plays with and explores genre and having this come before it would ruin the previously mentioned motif of each of the songs being individual and unique in form. Also, it really adds nothing to the fate vs free will theme- meaning its placement would weaken the disenchanted/flw combo ending. Moving forward, Kill All Your Friends seems to fit, considering its cynicism and nostalgia, but the bridge (“you’ll never get me alive, you’ll never take me alive, do what it takes to survive and I'm still here") doesn’t fit the Patient’s slow decent into apathy at all and contradicts Disenchanted’s loss of faith in the idea of living- it's too hopeful and centers survival and resilience in a way that makes it an ineffective substitute for Teenagers as a bridge song. And finally, Heaven Help Us is too religiously centered- it would refocus the fate vs free will discussion in the context of god/angels when that isn’t a theme in the album up to this point (hell is the grounded point of the album- the protagonist has already accepted their fate by Mama- having a reconciliation with a lack of faith or the absence of God seems completely out of left field when its just not an established part of the narrative) Black Parade is actually one of the mcr albums with the least references to god/angels in the heavenly religious sense- more centered around the human struggle against determinism: the usage of damnation is Catholic inspired but divorced from the division of hell vs heaven and is instead about guilt and worthiness and agency. The presence of angels or god or any divinity would simply weaken the narrative by expanding the album's focus outside its own limitations. Also, the Patient isn't ever a martyred figure, if anything he is purposely pathetic. Including any comparison of the Patient to Christ ("give you all the nails you need") or a saint unravels the key feature of the Patient's character: that he is insignificant. His insignificance and his struggles with his past actions make him a character who must find the strength to live through the guilt and pain to prove that everyone is worthy of life. The overarching purpose of Black Parade is emphasizing that no matter what we've done and how dirty we feel, we can move forward and either accept our afterlife or we can find value in being alive. Because of this contradiction, Heaven Help Us destroys the central theme of the entire album if it is included. With all of this in mind, it seems to me that the b-sides are their own nebulous thing- they don’t tonally fit on Black Parade (though I do think they fit together and are interconnected thematically) but any of them would break the flow since they seem angrier and gritter in a way that is noticeably absent and would be at odds with from a lot of Parade’s resignation. They also just do not complete the narrative, they are simple not as good as Teenagers at bringing all the pieces together.

If I still haven’t convinced you, a bonus reason Teenagers is a valuable memeber of the Black Parade tracklist, Ray was the only one who believed in the song- he called it genius (x) so listen to mr chemical romance himself telling you the song is Good and Important :)

anyway now you should, at the very least respect teenagers based on a couple thematic ideas expressed here, if not also understand why it’s imperative to black parade as an album, as well as the narrative itself. <3

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms part 2

Part 1 <-

Yang:Okay Weiss, your turn.

Weiss:What!? Why me?

Blake:Because you’ve been bouncing in your seat all through Yang’s story. You clearly want to gush about your kids.

Weiss:Pffft, What!? Nooooo, a little. Hehehe I can’t believe I’m that obvious. *smiles*

Ruby:Aww look at you, I never believe Weiss Schnee could look as warm as campfire.

Yang:And wearing mom jeans!? Little jealous that you still look completely gorgeous. Why does mom energy make you prettier?

Weiss:What can I say? I’m great. As far as my universe goes, I argue that I’m the strongest mom!

Blake:Such a bold claim.

Weiss:I carried twins! *points to self* this body handled two buns in the oven!

Ruby:Couldn’t be me. *shutters* I’d sooner loose an eye. Speaking of eyes, your scar has a friend. Got this whole upside down cross basically.

Weiss:Oh that? That’s uhhhh- how would I even explain this?

Yang:And your hair! It’s short!

Ruby:Yeah you’re just a surprise all over.

Blake:Guys, let her start from the beginning!

Ruby and Yang:Oh right. *covers mouths*

Weiss:(Yep, they’re the same sisters anywhere.) Thank you Blake. Now then...a good starting place? Well I suppose I could lay the ground work of Jaune and I getting better acquainted. It was about two weeks into reaching Atlas. Winter learned I got impaled and berated me not giving any kind of thanks. Since I had waited so long to do so, words wouldn’t do for her standards and she made me take him to a proper dinner. I think it was that night we actually talked openly to each other. A piece of me was annoyed at first because I thought he’d get the wrong idea again. But...he didn’t. He was just happy to spend time with me. That’s when I realized he had changed a bit *red* and apparently I changed too. Sigh, because that annoyed feeling was actually me forming a crush.

Blake:Looks like you changed more than he did. I think we can all agree that we’re pretty rough to deal with at Beacon in the beginning?

Yang:Hell yeah!

Ruby:Preach! Hehe, but it meant you grew the most too.

Weiss:Hey! You’re all assuming that I was terrible! Who knows, I could a Saint compared to your Weiss. Maybe I was a sweetheart at Beacon.

RBY:.....

Yang:Were you?

Weiss:*red* I’ll never tell.

Blake:(That’s just a no...) Two weeks into Atlas huh? I bet feelings raged whenever the whole place was under attack huh?

Weiss:W...What attack? Barely anything happened in Atlas.

Blake:Excuse me?

Ruby:Pfft what? You’re joking right? There wasn’t any threat of things falling out the sky or war threats?

Weiss:No? We showed up, put the relic in vault, and took time fortifying things while planning with Ironwood. The most exciting thing was a grimm wave and two of Salem’s goons showing up at a ball, but we handled that.

Ruby:....I...that’s...oh my head.

Blake:So what you’re saying is time in Atlas was a piece of cake?

Weiss:Well I had to deal with my father and and a lot of other family drama so I wouldn’t say it was cake. It was actually very stressful.

Yang:Well I think we found the massive shift between worlds. Atlas was different. I would say I dealt with anything like falling kingdoms. Atlas for me was one long Mission Impossible sequence. Espionage, jail break, fake deaths, but please continue with your love story.

Weiss:You sound a little envious. Anyways there isn’t too much of anything to tell in that part. Dates, fighting together, sibling healing, I was disowned publicly, Penny was being amazing-

Blake:You were disowned?

Ruby:(Penny is...alive? Huh, well, imagine that?) .....

Yang:*whispers* You okay Rubes?

Ruby:Yeah, processing. Hey Weiss? Not to control the narrative or anything, but how is your Ruby exactly? I get the feeling she’s quite different from me somehow if things like the adventure in Atlas are different.

Weiss rubbed her chin. She could tell the Ruby in front of her was pretty perplexed by the differences so far. In fact, Weiss could tell mentioning Penny made them all flinch a little. It was safe to assume they all hadn’t heard that name in a very long time. It made her feel a little bad. Did she somehow get a more ideal world?

Weiss:I think I might be able to answer that if you could humor me by getting a little further into my world’s reality? I don’t know how but I do get a since the two of you might have a key difference.

Ruby:I’m all ears.

Weiss: Blake, I’ll circle back to being disowned a little later. It’s one of the biggest reasons I am who I am now. Let’s see now, ah, the plan. After Atlas was infiltrated it was hard to save face to the rest of Remnant. That was until the world learned about Salem. It was a secret that was doing more harm than good at this point. On that day, our journey really began for us. Team RWBY wasn’t just four girls and their friends. It was one of four four girls commanding troops, organizing meetings, rallying others. We were the face of a revolution: along with JNPR of course.

Ruby:The world just...believed in Salem?

Weiss:There were plenty skeptics, but it’s harder not to believe it. Pen- our winter maiden, showed off magic. Then the others on our side followed the example. We had two relics to show off from the start, and a variety of ways to explain questions throughout history that nobody could answer before. We gave humanity’s suffering a face. People were more than eager to cling to it. From that point it was hard for Salem to make a move that wouldn’t give further validity to our story.

Ruby:An army huh, lead by us?

Weiss:Yep, mainly you when it came to the battlefield. You were anxious at first and definitely made moves that you regretted. But...after some time and experience, you stood tall in front of dozens to give a speech the night of the final battle. I still get chills. There wasn’t an eye that wasn’t on you. A person who didn’t want to march into battle with you. I don’t think I ever seen you more sure of where you were meant to be.

Ruby:Is that so? Hmm, I think...I think I get it now. Your Ruby must’ve stumbled quite a bit, but had people by her consistently. It was other’s strength that enabled her to get stronger. How old was she when the war was over?

Weiss:It ended on her twenty first birthday.

Ruby:Makes sense. An army isn’t made in a day. Plans and caution for everyone involved. A united force like that sounds like a thing Oz dreamed of.

Weiss:Actually, it was. My world beat Salem by gaining the relics. The gods witnessed the effort the world put in and stripped her of immortality. It was actually thanks to you that Salem went peacefully. Instead of damning her to a cruel fate, the gods let her pass on to her kids per your request. After that, gods and magic came back. Both are still mysterious. The gods are hard to find and there’s only one person born with magic so far.

Yang:Magic is a thing there!? That’s so unfair! Just imagine me with more fire!?

Weiss:Like you need it!? You’re already like a generator. Life after Salem wasn’t any calmer really. Terrifying grimm lurked where their could, an entire new way of life had been dropped on society, and even the world itself seemed to react. Weather has been more intense as of late. There was a lot things to keep people busy. Ruby being her usual self, started hunting. Blake used the momentum of faunus and humans working together to further her equality agenda, and Yang helped both of you out.

Yang:Look at me! I’m a great girlfriend and sister!

Blake:*mumbles* There at least.

Weiss:Yeah. Oscar and Penny decided to embarrass more of normal lifestyle, mostly. Penny went back to being protector of Mantle, but had way more free time to be a normal girl. Both of them had gotten really close over the years and eventually married.

Ruby:*wide eyed* Awwww, good for them! I always had a feeling those two would hit it off.

Weiss:They weren’t the only ones. You may have been busy, but you always made time for Whitley. The two of you were dating since our original trip to Atlas. There wasn’t a problem that either of you didn’t come to me for. You know hard it is to navigate other people’s relationships when you’re lost in your own? The blind was leading the blind. Worked out though. You were probably the prettiest bride out of all of us. Then again, you went ours and literally took notes.

Ruby:Hehe, that sounds exactly like something I’d do. You haven’t talked much about the charmed life after the war for you.

Weiss felt her face heat up. She placed her head on the table as if she gave up on something.

Yang:Yeah! Give us the scoop!

Weiss:Charmed isn’t what I’d call my life exactly. I was disowned, completely cut off. Even though I made my own mark in history, it’s not like people were gonna roll out red carpets. The world had to rebuild, and I needed a roof over my head. Thus began the modest life of Weiss Schnee, owner of a two bedroom Argus apartment. Fancy clothes a food were no more. Just clearance sales and two for one. Honestly, I didn’t hate. But that’s mainly because I wasn’t living alone.

Blake:Jaune?

Weiss:Living back home was just as unappealing for him as it was for me. That and the fact that I couldn’t cook for shit was concerning, to say the least. Moving in and splitting rent just made sense. We weren’t dating yet technically, but.....it didn’t take long for the relationship between us to...expand.

Yang:I cannot believe a Weiss Schnee finally caved to tall blonde and scraggly. I should be jealous, but I’m strangely proud of Jaune’s achievement. It’s like the first time I lost to him. I was upset, but man did he work for that win.

Weiss:Took about a month before all of you had learned just what the living situation was like and man did you three let the teasing begin? *smiles* it was fun though. If I had to wrong about something then I’m glad it was about me not thinking a person is reliable. Especially since they’ve bailed me out of trouble many times. Normal life had its pitfalls. We were constantly working to pay rent. Sometimes one of us had to work harder. Getting sick was disastrous, of long term assignments. What’s the relationship I have with Whitley in the other worlds?

Ruby:Casual. The two of are always throwing ideas back and forth to help the company.

Blake:The two of you are fine. I’m not too sure how much you actually hang out, but you both are pretty snarky whenever you’re together.

Yang:Thick as thieves. That man was always shifting money and finding sneaky ways to let us know when important things popped up.

Weiss:Good, that’s really good. *exhales* I can’t count the times he sent money without father knowing. I’m glad we reconnected. Without his and everyone’s help, I don’t think I would’ve managed. Especially when mom died...

Ruby:Oh. I...I’m sorry to hear that.

Weiss:It’s bound to happen when you drink the way she did. But yeah, didn’t handle it any easier. Between that and stressing over money, I really got overwhelmed often. I was very glad I didn’t live alone. Even if I didn’t want to talk about things, Jaune was always there to listen. I think it was around that time I realized just how in love I actually was with him. He makes me happy. That idiot must’ve known how much of a weakness I had for him. It was only a few months later that he proposed.

The simple memory of Jaune asking her under a street light on a cold yet peaceful night, made Weiss’s face a healthy shade of red. A gentle smile was all she could make thinking about it. A smile that left everyone stunned. They had never seen Weiss look so warm. So genuinely filled with love, happiness. To think she was once called Ice Queen? This one really did look like an Angel. Weiss quit daydreaming and got a little embarrassed.

Weiss:Uh, sorry! I guess I little mushy there. I’ve been told I’ve gotten pretty sappy through the years.

Blake:I think that’s beautiful.

Yang:Seriously. I’m...speechless really.

Ruby:A hardworking Weiss that struggled making ends meet. I gotta say that you look good doing it.

Weiss:Yeah well, that time has passed. My father got sick and in an attempt to “clear his conscious” or whatever he was feeling, he put me back in the family. I only saw him once when he was on his deathbed. Truthfully, I don’t visit my parent’s grave. I wanna say old emotions don’t get stirred up, but there’s certain feelings towards people that just can’t die I guess.

Yang:That’s fair. Who knows, maybe you just need a decade or two?

Weiss:Hehe, perhaps. However, before I got my fortune back, I was granted an either better one. Two in fact. That sly knight of mine managed to overachieve like he always does and give us a boy and girl.

Blake:I got a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t upset?

Weiss:Not for one second! I love my babies. My darling little Nick and Summer Schnee. One named after our grandfather, and Jaune and I are both really thankful for all that Ruby has done for us, so our daughter got named Summer. It meant a lot. My Ruby...she can’t have kids, or I should say getting and staying pregnant is extremely difficult.

Ruby:...*sniffling* These aren’t tears by the way. Just dust.

Weiss:My Ruby cried.

Ruby:Oh I bet! That’s some powerful stuff. Probably ugly cried too. Someone please say something? *misty eyed* Fuck, man that was a lot. *puts hood up* give me a sec, please keep going. *holding Yang’s hand*

Yang:Weiss, weren’t you a little scared about your living situation?

Weiss:It was a weird thing. We talked about having a family before hand. Money was always a concern, as well space; but I also knew that I did want to have a family of my own one day. So when the day came that the nurse told me I was pregnant, I should’ve been more worried. I wasn’t. All I felt was joy. Maybe it was because I had faith we could handle anything. We did have you all to help. Yang, you might as well be a superwoman honestly. You have been so amazing throughout my life.

Yang:Aye! I really love this other me.

Blake:What about me?

Weiss:You remain the most sensible person in my life and I thank you for it. Everyone else is crazy.

Blake:Yeah that’s pretty on brand. *smiles*

Ruby:Picture please?

Weiss gladly pulled out her scroll and showed off her children. It was quick to see both of them had gotten their father’s dorkiness. They stood in front of the camera playfully winking and were pretending to take a bite out the gold medals they had around their necks. It was crazy how much Summer looked like her mother, but clearly had Jaune’s eyes. Her brother on the other hand had the Schnee eyes and messy Arc hair. The two looked like barrels of fun. Then there was the man himself, Jaune Arc. He looked from the one in Yang’s photo. His hair resembled his days traveling to Haven and he was clean shaven, but he was noticeably healthier. It wasn’t even a physical thing much, though he did look good. He just seemed more vibrant.

Yang:Mine is cuter.

Weiss:Yours looks like your dad with the scruff.

Yang:Can you not?

Blake:How old?

Weiss:Sixteen. Little devils want sports car. I’m not dealing with that. Nick is really good at figure skating and is the oldest, so he’s the heir. Summer decided to be a little like her mother and pursue singing. Doesn’t have my voice though, but her range is better than me. I’m jealous. Both of them are always pretty decent in a fight if I do say so myself. Sigh, they grow up so fast. They still have a lot of growing to do though. Teenagers...

RBY:Preach...

Ruby:Everything okay though? Nothing too tough going on?

Weiss:Can I lie and say yes?

Yang:Hey I unpacked my baggage. Unload yours.

Weiss let out a large sigh. She looked at her kids lovingly, but had a smile that seemed...somber. All of her energy was brought down a bit and it showed.

Yang:Umm if it’s too much-

Weiss:It’s fine. It might be a little therapeutic to talk about it. Personally, I don’t I’m doing all I really can do. When they were very young, we all took a trip to go skating at a frozen lake. While I was there I found this strange ice dust that I’ve never seen before. Nick and Summer had gotten into a fight and by accident, Nick set off the dust. The shrapnel from it hit everyone, but Summer had it the worse. I’m talking it was lodged in her in multiple places. Not to mention the blast sent her flying into the water. I was hit so hard that I nearly blacked out. Thankfully, Jaune was the furthest and dove into the water while I managed to get Nick. He avoided a lot of it due to distance and was winded more than anything.

Ruby:Christ...

Blake:How young?

Weiss:Five. We rushed so fast to the hospital as soon as we could. The dust in Summer was freezing her until Nick activated her semblance and most of the shards got used up. Still, Summer ended up hospitalized for almost a year. Surgeries, comas, seizures; it was difficult to put it lightly. That picture doesn’t show it but she has puncture scars across her body, and a slight scar under her jawline she covers with makeup. That dust, though highly dangerous, it also healed her eventually. Summer had virtually no chance of survival. Not even counting the organ damage, that water should’ve put her into shock. But...she made a full recovery, on paper.

Yang:On paper?

Weiss:Several years later, Summer came in contact with the dust again and she...changed. Her eyes looked like mine, her light blonde hair went white, and she went mad. Her scars glowed with the dust that was still in her system and Summer started attacking everyone. I saw my twelve year old just use ice that was cold enough to burn. My extra scar is from me trying to restrain her. In the end it took my gigas pinning her down before she came to her senses. Summer had no memory of it. She said all remembered was feeling cold and hearing her own laughter. It wasn’t long after that it kept happening. Any time she got cold, this other...thing would come out. It eventually called itself Shiva.

Blake:Shiva? So...it’s a multiple personality?

Weiss:We don’t know. There’s so many inconsistencies. We got her checked up by the best and every test was normal. Her brain looks normal. But any time Shiva comes out, her blood turns blue and all she wants to do is hurt us. Shiva and Summer are even aware of each other now. There’s almost no day where Summer doesn’t hear Shiva in her head, wrestling for control. Between that, people at school who hate her, the scars, everything; Summer has become pretty reserved. She barely wants to go to school and she’s depressed most days. Nowadays she doesn’t open up about it outside of therapy. I...I can connect with her. Not in the way that matters.

Yang:I...shit, I don’t know what to say to that.

Weiss:That’s okay, few do. We’ve gotten good at preventing situations that get Summer cold but it’s through trial and error on something we know nothing about. Even with how far we’ve gotten, there’s a looming fear in everyone’s heart. Make no mistake though, that doesn’t stop any family from loving her with everything, but the mental strain of it all is more than anyone should deal with. Nick is kind soul. He blames himself for this and is constantly doing all he can to be there for everyone and put on this brave face, but he suffers inside. For a time, he went to therapy. Your sister almost killing you is a visceral experience. Getting him to sleep and take a break is like telling a fish not to swim. He is pretty open about this though, which helps a lot. It’s just...how do convince somehow they’re good enough when they think they’re not?

Ruby and Blake:You can’t....

Weiss:Exactly. It’s so...*tearing up* How am I failing at helping my kids worse than my own mother?

Yang:And that’s where I draw the line. *stands up* Now I can’t begin to fathom dealing with a a situation like this, and what I’m about to say is gonna be a little hypocritical but I really don’t care. Weiss, the last thing you are is a bad mother. I could tell immediately from the way you are that there hasn’t been a single as a parent that you haven’t made a choice without your kids in mind. I get feeling like there’s a gap that disconnects you from there; but the fact you keep your arms stretched out to bridge it makes you mother of the year in my eyes! Don’t believe for a second you’re a bad mother. Your the gold standard!

The room filled with silence for a moment. Weiss felt a lump form in her throat as she fought back tears that she eventually had to wipe away. She tried letting out a small laugh, but with it came more tears that ran down her face. Weiss couldn’t tell if it was from Yang’s words, or the stress. All she knew was that right now, she felt very thankful for being here.

Weiss:Damn it Yang, making me cry is something you’ve always been good at. Maybe that’s why I look up to you so much?

Yang:*red* Y-You what?

Weiss:My Yang, I downplayed just how much I adore her. Her daughter, Veronica, she’s got her fair share problems that stresses Yang out, but I never see her stop trying to connect with her. Even when she’s sad it’s like it’s only for a second, then you’re trying twice as hard. It’s amazing. If I’m being honest, and this is embarrassing, but I kinda picked up a mother from you. You’ve always been a bit motherly.

Ruby:She’s right.

Blake:Mom energy since day one.

Yang:Really? *rubs head* I was just being myself. Never really thought about it. Now then, wipe those tears! It’s upsetting that you look pretty why you cry. Meanwhile I look like a hot mess, and not in the fun way.

Weiss:*wiping face* Oh please, I don’t wanna hear that from someone who’s never needed make up. Those genes of your went to Veronica. Kids a genuine beauty. She’s just angry all the time.

Yang:Yeah that sounds appropriate... Weird to think I have a daughter that’s not Yujin. Wish I could see her.

Blake:Me too. Though I think I’d be overwhelmed seeing all my different kids. I’d probably want them all.

Ruby:My hands are full with ones I have and I wouldn’t say I’m juggling them well, so I don’t need other kids from universes. I’d be so stressed.

Weiss:Especially if they’re violent.

Ruby:Yeah, that would bad....

Weiss:Phew, I do feel a bit better. Even though I said all those things, my family still had good times. It’s not tense and we joke around like everyone else. As a family, we’re happy. We just have shit we gotta sort through.

Blake:Rich or poor, life has certain things that hit everyone. Is Jaune doing well.

Weiss:Yeah, he gets through to Summer pretty well, and he’s typically calm when it comes to giving guidance. He had his fears, but that’s why I’m here. We confide in each other.

Blake:May you and everyone else find a light at the end of the tunnel.

Ruby:Hey Weiss. Does....actually, never mind. Forget it.

Yang:We both know that’s not happening. Spit it out.

Ruby:I was just about Shiva. I’ve encountered weird things in my world, but this is unique. I was wondering if you have any positive experience with her.

Weiss:Not a single one. Here since of enjoyment in the displeasure of my children is a thing we disagree on. Though....her eyes, they do throw me off. For some reason, they don’t match her joy.

Blake:Maybe that part is still Summer. Eyes are the window to the soul and all that jazz.

Weiss:Maybe? I hope the kids are okay right now. I wonder what they’re up to?

xxxxx

Summer:WHAT’S UP VALE!!!!!!!!

A massive crowd screams “what’s up Summer”in excitement. Flashing lights and chanting fans’s voices make the sold out venue shake with their passion. Summer can only bask in it. There’s no better feeling than when she’s on stage. She looks to herself excitedly. This one was extra special. Nick comes out on stage with a base around him and a second microphone.

Nick:WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!!

The crowd chants louder. Summer responds by starting a rift on her guitar. She faces Nick with a smug look. Yes, having him on stage is always a joy, but that didn’t mean Summer wanted him hindering or stealing the show.

Summer:Well look who’s here!? Atlas’s favorite son! Think you’re ready to play with the kids up here. This isn’t your normal stage.

Nick smiled. He responded by playing the bass and letting the audience speak for him. Summer was chessing fool. Slowly she bopped up and down, urging him to do the same. It wasn’t long before they in sync. Drums, piano, and other background musicians began building up the tune as planned. The twins whipped around to face the crowd.

🎶Get down! We won't let you go!

This time, can you bring us down?

Back up! fly far through the sky

BLACK ROVER!

Let's go! All together now

And at last this world can't slow us down

For now, let's dye it all in black

BLACK ROVER!🎶

The two stood back to back...

🎶As more join and stand beside me,

The void doesn't feel so empty!!!!!

I know there is much more in store

Let's open that door -!🎶

Nick looked over his shoulder and saw Summer doing the same thing. This was gonna be one for the books. Jaune watched from backstage with one of the stagehands.

Stagehand:Should we tell them to save their energy? This charity event is six hours.

Jaune:Nah, let them have fun.

[taehyungs-perm]

strawberry girl pt 4

taehyung x reader; college au; childhood best friends to lovers au; jock!fratboy taehyung

genre: fluff; major angst lol

word count: 11k

summary: i can pretend i don’t miss you. i can pretend i dont care. all i want to do is kiss you. what a shame you’re not here.

Part 1 here ; Part 2 here; part 3 here; part 5

playlist vibes

i like me better | lauv 

get you | daniel caesar 

japanese denim | daniel caesar 

lovers | anna of the north

comfort crowd | conan gray

idontwannabeyouanymore | billie eilish 

It was probably not ideal to start your morning by sobbing in the lap of your best friend, but it be like that sometimes.

Hana was softly combing the little strands of hair out of your face, “_________, it’s okay. Why are you so upset about this?”

You rolled over so you could see Hana, brushing the hair out of your face, “Because Hana, I told you what happened last time. I fell for him and it hurt me so much. I was trying so hard to avoid this.”

She looked at you with a serious look in her eyes, “__________ you can't choose what feelings you feel. But you can choose how you act. You have to tell people how you feel when you feel it. You missed that chance two years ago but you have it again now. This is a good thing. Tell Taehyung how you feel.”

You sat upright, looking at her seriously, “Hana, it’s not that simple. He probably doesn’t like me back. And if I confess and he says he doesn’t like me like that, then what? I’ve ruined our friendship over something that doesn’t even matter.”

“It does matter! Your feelings do matter. And that won’t happen. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. He definitely likes you. Stop over thinking.”

“I’m not overthinking. If anything, I’m not thinking enough. I just should keep my mouth shut and hope this goes away.”

Hana shook her head, “What the fuck will that do? You’ll just sadly pine over him from a distance while he continues to fuck the rest of campus. Will that make you happy? Seeing him do that?”

“Hana, if Taehyung and I were meant to be, we would have been by now. But we aren’t. We are two different people and he just doesn’t see me like that.”

“And I’m telling you that he does! Even Jungkook has noticed the way Taehyung acts around you. It’s obvious to everyone but you.”

“It was just like this last time too, Hana. I thought he was so into me, but he wasn’t. He was into some other girl the whole time. It made me feel like a piece of shit. Like I was worthless and that I created this romance all in my head. I’m sick of waiting for love and I realized my life isn't anything special.”

She put her hands on your shoulders, “You have to start romanticizing your life. You have to start taking risks and do things for yourself. If you keep being afraid of what could happen, life will continue to pass you by and all the little things that make it so beautiful will continue to go unnoticed. You can’t keep wallowing in self pity. You need to do something about your life and for once not let it fuck you over. This isn’t just about Taehyung. This about how you live your life. I know you better than you think __________.You have to start thinking of yourself as the main character. You need to change your mentality of thinking you’re worthless and not enough.” 

You sighed deeply, knowing everything she’s saying is so true, “I know it okay. I know it’s the fucking capitalist misogynistic society that cultivates these ideas of insecurity and women and profits off of it to create an endless cycle of ‘I don’t feel enough’. And I want to get to that point where I can feel like I’m enough on my own. But it’s hard.”

Hana pulled you into a hug, “________ I know it’s hard. I just don’t want all of your fears and insecurities to stop you from achieving your dreams and going after things you want.”

You pulled away from her, “Do you really think I should tell him?”

She nodded excitedly, “I really, really do. Tonight is the perfect chance.”

You let out a deep sigh, releasing all the pent up tension in your body, “Okay. Tonight.”

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

You and Hana made your way through the somehow already crowded lodge.

“God, Jungkook is such an idiot. I told him not to invite too many people because he only has one house, but guess what?” Hana said huffing as she firmly gripped her duffle.

“What?” You were following closely behind her so as to not get stuck in the crowd. 

“He somehow got permission to use his neighbor’s lodge too. As long as everything is exactly how it was. Which there’s no fucking way that’ll happen.”

You nodded in agreement. There were already too many fucking people here. But to be fair, you and Hana did arrive late. Most people arrived in the early afternoon to go skiing and tubing. You and Hana decided to catch up on homework and studying and arrived in the early evening instead. Hana ensured that both of you dressed in cute outfits because she really wanted to take photos for her Instagram. 

Hana was wearing an emerald green satin tank top with black skinny jeans with black strappy heels.

You rarely wore dresses because the lack of practicality with no pockets infuriated you but Hana somehow convinced you to buy the maxi length black floral dress you were wearing. It had thin straps so you paired the dress with a black long sleeve shirt and white sneakers.

She dragged you upstairs. “Jungkook gave us this room,” Hana said, taking you down the hall. 

“Us?” You asked snarkily. 

“Okay, in theory I’m supposed to stay in this room with you.” 

“But?”

“But...I’ll stay with Jungkook and Jungkook’s roommate will stay here.”

You already knew where this was going and you felt your anxiety growing. You rubbed your temples, “Don’t tell me..”

“Taehyung said he’s perfectly okay with it so...”, she said through a large grin.

“Hana, I told you. I just-”

“And I told you! He likes you too! This is your chance. Your opportunity!! You two are so cute together. You just need to talk to him about your feelings,” she said pushing you into the room. Thankfully, there were two beds. You felt like you couldn’t handle another night next to Taehyung. You might literally have a heart attack, feeling his body that close to yours again. 

“I don’t know Hana. I don’t know if tonight is the right time,” you said, setting your duffle bag on your bed. 

You were about to continue before you heard a knock on the door. At the doorway was Taehyung and Jungkook, the causes of your incoming migraine.

Jungkook walked over to Hana and enveloped her in a big hug. “I missed you, love,” he said as he kissed her forehead.

“Miss you too,” Hana mumbled from his embrace.

Your heart yearned with longing at this interaction. How you so badly you wanted someone to love you. How so badly you wanted Taehyung to love you back. You then remembered that he was in fact standing right in front of you.

You smiled awkwardly at him. His fluffy curly hair was covering his eyes a bit. He was dressed in a somewhat sheer black floral shirt tucked into black skinny jeans. He looked like a model. He waved recognizing that you were a bit uncomfortable.

Jungkook, still with Hana in his embrace, left the room, saying something about how she needed to see the beer pong table in the basement.

“Hey,” Taehyung said casually, leaning against the door entrance.

You felt your heart beating fast. God, did he always make you this uneasy?

“Hi,” you squeaked. Oh my god. Why are you acting like this? Can't you just be chill?

He laughed, “Are you okay?”

Be chill. Act normal. “I’m fine. Just tired. I was at the library since you left this morning.” You were trying to distract yourself as you started unpacking some things from your duffle. He walked over and sat on your bed next to your duffle.

“Hmm. Seems like we’ll be spending another night together,” he said, grinning wickedly. 

Your cheeks reddened at his words. You cleared your throat, ”Well, you’ll be sleeping in your own bed. So not really.” You continued to take out items from your bag, so you didn’t have to make eye contact with him. 

He angled his face in front of your bag so you had to look at his doe eyes, “Oh really. It’s just that after last night, I don’t know if I can sleep without you next to me again. By the way, I usually sleep shirtless.”

You immediately felt your face flush and the textbook that you were holding (you brought it just in case you got bored) slipped from your hands, thudding loudly on the wooden floor. 

He gave you an infuriating smile as he leaned down and picked up your textbook. 

“Sure everything is fine?” He said handing you the book.

“I’m perfectly fine! We should go downstairs,” you said hastily as you set the book on the bed.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said standing up.

“Wait lemme fix my hair,” you said glancing in a mirror. It looked like you just woke up. Which to be fair, you kinda did sleep the entire way to the lodge.

You undid your braid and pulled it into a ponytail. You turned to him and he frowned. 

“What?” You said, feeling self conscious.

He walked over to you and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, “I like it when your hair is down.” He secured your dark pink scrunchie around his wrist. 

Your heart fluttered. Wait, did that mean he didn’t like when your hair was styled in other ways?

He pulled your hand and gave you that contagious smile, “I know what you’re thinking. I do think you look good in different hair styles. I like it when you wear braids or ponytails. But you rarely wear your hair down. I want you to know that I like that too.”

You looked down at the wooden flooring, trying to hide your smile, “Fuck off. I could care less what you think.”

“Ayy, there’s my girl. Now c’mon you look pretty let’s go!” Taehyung said, leading you down the stairs.

It seemed like time had no concept here as everyone was drinking and dancing as if it were midnight. Taehyung led you to the basement where there were somehow even more people. The colored lights were flashing and the music was blaring.

You found your friends sitting on the couches towards the back. Hana was sitting on Jungkook's lap next to Yoongi and Hobi. Even though you technically came with him, Taehyung’s presence was making you overly jittery so you opted to sit in the free seat next to Jimin. He gave you a cheerful smile and you tried not to look at Taehyung as he sat opposite of you two. Hana glared at you in frustration when she saw your seat choice. You responded by flipping her off and turned to talk to Jimin.

Your conversation with Jimin was cut off by Jungkook exclaiming, “Okay, let’s play truth or dare.”

Hana scoffed, “Are you kidding Jungkook? That game is for children.”

“Not the way we play it,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You immediately shook your head, “I’ll sit this out.”

Jimin whined at you, “Cmon ________ you have to play.”

You shook your head, laughing, “In your fucking dreams.”

Jimin stroked his chin with his hand, thinking hard, “You have to play otherwise...”

Hana chimed in, “Otherwise I’ll hide your textbooks.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, “You wouldn’t dare.”  

“Try me bitch” Hana said with a smirk. 

You sighed, giving up because you knew she actually would do it, “Fine but if it starts getting fucking weird I’m leaving.”

The dares got weird pretty fast. 

Jin was dared to lick whipped cream off of Yoongi's leg. Hobi and Namjoon were dared to go skinny dipping in the pool. Taehyung had to sit on Namjoon’s lap for the rest of the round. Jungkook revealed almost too many truths about himself, talking about his fantasy threesomes and his kinks. Hana was dared to do body shots off of Jungkook (she seemed a little too excited for that). Jimin was dared to remove his shirt for the rest of the game.

Luckily you had only been asked two times and chosen truth both times. Namjoon and Hobi were nice enough to ask questions that weren’t too exposing. However, things started going downhill once it was Hana’s turn again. You swore you saw her eyes glitter with mischievousness. 

“_________, You already used up your two truths, right?”

Fuck, you forgot about the two truths only rule. 

Jimin piped up, “Yep! She did.”

God, fuck Park Jimin for being such a boy scout. You nodded weakly. Your heart started to pound. You knew she was going to say something stupid. You uneasily glanced over at Taehyung. He had been suspiciously quiet to you all night, but you also were actively avoiding him. 

Hana cleared her throat, making sure to get everyone’s attention, “Okay so _________ I dare you,” she smiled widely and you knew you were fucked, “I dare you to make out with Taehyung.”

Your mouth gaped open. She didn’t. You looked at Taehyung and his face was almost as shocked as yours. 

You chuckled nervously, side eyeing Taehyung, “No, no.” 

Taehyung spoke softly, “Nah she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.”

Jungkook laughed loudly, clearly having a great time at the expense of your misery, “It’s the rules. She has to. Other people had to do way worse tonight.”

You felt your face heating up and your heart was beating faster with anxiety. 

Jimin was trying to help the situation, “How about they go in the guest room so it won’t be as awkward.”

Hana pondered this for a moment, “You have to send a picture then. We need evidence that you guys actually kissed.”

You tried protesting but Jimin physically pulled you off the couch while Hobi did the same to Taehyung.

“Guys, guys, how about you give me another dare? I promise I’ll do that one. Just give me a pass,” you pleaded as Jimin dragged you to the guest room.

Your pleas went unheard as Jimin and Hobi pushed you and Taehyung into the guest room with the rest of your friends following behind. Once Jungkook slammed the door close, you tried pressing against the door but it wouldn’t budge. You sighed and dropped to the ground. 

“C'mon guys just let us out,” Ttaehyung tried to say in a serious voice, leaning against the door. 

“Kiss and then we will let you out,” Jungkook shouted through the door. 

Taehyung ran his hands through his hair and sat next to you, “We can just wait it out. They’ll let us out eventually.”

You nodded and buried your face in your hands. Then you heard chanting outside the room “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

Oh my god, I’m going to literally murder Hana. I am not going to do this right now.

He leaned next to you and whispered quietly, “I know you don’t wanna do this so let’s just sit here and wait. It’s okay, don’t let what they are saying get to you.”

You looked at him and felt your heart swell. God, you were so in love with him. 

The best you could hope for was that they get tired and give up. However, It had been like 10 minutes and the chants were still going strong 

You looked at him, desperate, “What the fuck do we do?”

He chuckled nervously, “Um...we could kiss?”

You looked at him. You could but this isn’t what you wanted. You wanted him to want you because he liked you, not because of some game.

You felt your anxiety come to a point where it was overwhelming and you weren’t thinking properly so you said rather forcefully, “No!”

His puppy dog eyes lost its spark. He dropped his head, “Oh.. ok. I know you think I’m really annoying or whatever but I didn’t think you hated me.” He sounded hurt. 

You groaned, shutting your eyes in frustration, “Ugh it’s not like that.” God, he was totally misinterpreting the whole situation.

Taehyung looked at you, clearly confused, “Then what is it like? Cause it seems like you’re so repulsed by the idea of kissing me.”

Then without thinking, you frustratingly yelled, “Oh my god, I just don’t want it to happen like this!”

Your eyes widened in realization of what you said. 

You began to stumble out your words, “I mean like I just think it’s weird because we are so platonic and like it’s weird and I think we can forget everything I just said.” 

Your words were becoming a train wreck and you couldn’t watch the disastrous scene unfolding in front of you.

He stared at you, wide eyed. He leaned his head against the wall, completely silent.

Oh my god, I need to fucking get out. You looked around the room and saw a small window at the top of the opposite wall, next to the bed. Bingo.

You glanced over at Taehyung. He was on his phone, texting. He probably thinks I’m a fucking psycho. 

You tightened the laces on your shoes and walked over to the dresser next to the bed. You climbed on top of the dresser and then you pushed on the window hard. It creaked open 

You heard Taehyung's voice behind you, “_________, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I just need some fresh air you know. I just need to do this really fast.” You pushed the window fully open and you felt the cool air of the night press against your face

You were able to reach your arms through the window and once you got a good grip on the grass, you began to hoist yourself up.

“_________! What are you doing?” You couldn’t look back at Taehyung, but he sounded very confused and shocked.

“Um I just really need to go. I'm feeling so claustrophobic,” you struggled the words out as you pushed yourself through the window. Once one of your legs made it through, you began crawling out the window, “Ow! Why are there so many fucking rocks?”

You hadn’t realized that while you were struggling to crawl out the window, Taehyung had shouted to your friends on the other side of the door about your antics. 

You heard voices fill up the room and Hana’s voice yell, “_________ get the fuck down here! You could get hurt! What are you doing?”

Great, this is exactly how I wanted the night to go. But it was too late, you were already more than halfway out.

“It’s fine.” You shouted back, “I’m okay!” 

You exclaimed a cheer of victory once you were able to make it through the fucking window. You stood up and looked down at your clothes. Your dress was caked in mud. This is so great. Your life was a fucking mess. 

You looked around and realized you were by the pool. You desperately hoped none of your friends would come up looking for you. You dusted off the dirt from your dress and walked around the pool. You walked into the kitchen and breathed out a sigh of relief when you didn’t recognize anyone there. Then you heard Taehyung’s familiar voice and immediately ducked behind the kitchen island.

You glanced up and sighed when you saw him with Jennie. She was smiling and had her arm wrapped around his neck. He was keeping his distance with him trying to pull her arm away from her. You didn’t wanna stick around any longer because you were worried you would see something that would upset you. You made your way back to your room upstairs. 

Obviously seeing Taehyung with Jennie hurt you, but what could you do? They had history, real history and you were simply Taehyung's friend. How could someone like you ever complete with someone like Jennie? You loved Taehyung but how could that even compare what Jennie could offer him. He said to you that he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, just sex and Jennie was giving him exactly that. It was so fucking stupid of you to think you could confess to him.

Once you got to your room, you changed into black sweatpants and a simple gray tee shirt. You grabbed a towel and headed to the empty hot tub in the back of the house. 

Finally a spot where there’s no one and where no one will find me.

You rolled up your pants and soaked your legs in the hot water. You pulled out your phone and started reading the new book you started this week, Malcom X’s autobiography.

It felt really relaxing and peaceful to simply be by yourself for a while. Being social situations always drained you out a lot. You became so absorbed in your reading that you didn’t notice Taehyung walking up to the hot tub. 

“Hey strawberry girl,” he said right into your ear.

You got startled by his closeness, almost dropping your phone, “Oh my god, you’re so annoying.”

“So...what happened? Why the fuck did you crawl out of a window?” He asked, concerned 

The million fucking dollar question. Time to play it off chill. “I dunno. It just got kinda overwhelming. I told you I was getting claustrophobic.”

You obviously couldn’t tell him you were so fucking afraid of your feelings toward him and how you couldn’t possibly kiss him (game or not) because he most likely doesn’t like you back.

Luckily, he didn’t press further “Yea, it’s actually really nice and quiet out here. Can I sit with you here?”

You nodded and he sat next to you, not dipping his feet in the water.

“I’m so fucking sore from all the practices and games this week,” Taehyung said, stretching his shoulder.

“You should get in the hot tub. It'll relax and soothe your muscles,” you said still reading on your phone, not looking up at him.

He stood up, “That’s a good idea.” 

You assumed he would agree and then go and grab his swim trunks. Except Taehyung didn’t do that.

You heard a light clanking noise and looked up at him. He was taking off his belt and unzipping his pants right in front of you. You felt your entire face redden, mortified at what he was doing, “Taehyung. what are you doing?” You said averting your gaze.

“I’m getting in the hot tub?”

“Go and get your swim shorts!”

“Nah, fuck that. Don’t worry _________, I’m not going in nude.”

Thank god. You don’t know what you would’ve done if he decided to do that.

You peeked at him from the corner of your eyes. He was wearing blue boxers and he was unbuttoning his floral shirt. He luckily was wearing a black short sleeve shirt underneath. He had really nice calves, tanned and well defined. 

Taehyung stepped into the hot tub and let out a deep moan. Your face reddened at the sound. 

Then, your eyes met. Then, all while giving you a deep stare, Taehyung reached behind his neck to pull his shirt off. You felt your face flush even further. He has to know what he’s doing to me. He has to know that he’s riling me up with all of these moves. 

You gulped at the sight of his prominent collar bones and honey colored skin. You tore your eyes away from him and tried to concentrate on your book. 

It didn’t work because Taehyung's suspiciously quiet presence unnerved you. 

You set your phone done and raised your eyebrows at him, “What?”

“What? I haven’t said anything”

“Exactly. You’re being quiet. Which is weird.”

“You said you liked how peaceful it was out here. So I wanted to let you enjoy it.”

“Whatever. It’s weird when you're quiet,” you sloshed your legs in the water.

“_________?” Taehyung wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was staring at the water. 

“Yea,”

“Why haven’t you had a boyfriend?”

Ouch. 

“Why are you asking me that?” you said a bit hurt.

“I didn’t mean it to come off as mean. I’m just curious. Because, I don’t know, you say you want love. But did you go after it?”

“Why are you thinking of that?”

“Well, cause I dunno. I never thought about love. Or getting a girlfriend. But on the way here Namjoon hyung and Jungkook were just talking about how great it is. Being in love and having someone to love. And someone loving you back. And Jin hyung said he has met someone as well but he’s keeping it lowkey. And then you talked about how you want love too. That’s why you’ve waited. I know you've had crushes. But I don’t know why you haven’t gone for it yet. Or why you haven’t had a boyfriend yet.”

You stared at your feet in the water. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He just wanted to know about your life. You felt like you should be more honest with taehyung. He was always so genuine with you.

“I don’t know Taehyung. There’s so many reasons.”

“What are they?”

You gave a cold laugh, “No one has ever liked me like that. So there’s that. Then I’m scared. I’m scared of opening up to someone and they leave me. I talk a lot of shit I guess for someone who has never been in a relationship. I want love but I guess I realized love doesn’t come without heartbreak. So that’s what scares me. But I guess it’s fun to romanticize something that’ll never happen for me.”

“What are you talking about? Are you saying you’ll never fall in love?”

“I’m saying no one will ever love me like that. So I can say whatever I want about wanting love and a boyfriend. Because that won’t happen.”

He looked at you, astonished, “________ what the fuck? Are you being for real?”

You exhaled deeply. You knew he wouldn’t get it. Taehyung has never been in your situation. He’s always been wanted, adored, loved. You’ve never experienced anything like that.

“Yes Tae. I’m being serious. I’m not really looking for sympathy or anything because I’ve accepted it but I know guys don’t really like me. I know why, but I’m not going to change myself for a guy. It’s just the facts are there, Taehyung. I’m almost twenty and no guy has ever been interested in me. So it’s just whatever now. It’s kinda blessing though. I can just focus on school and not get distracted or sidetracked by any guy.”

He scooched over time where your legs were dangling. He held your hand that was planted firmly against the concrete. 

“________ please don’t think like that. You deserve love. Stop saying that you don’t. And you will find it. I promise you. I don’t know why you think guys don’t like you but I swear, you are literally perfect the way you are and I’m so glad you didn’t change for anyone. Your strawberry boy is out there. And he’s probably the most perfect guy to exist.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. Your strawberry boy did exist. And he was the one holding your hand. You didn’t want anyone else. You wanted him. You wanted Kim Taehyung.

You reflexively made a joke, just to move away from the fact that you were about to cry over his words, “I guess. You’ll have to beat his ass if he doesn’t like strawberries tho”

Taehyung laughed, “Don’t worry. I’m always here to beat anyone’s ass for you.” 

He rested his back against the edge and looked up into the night sky. 

“So... are you into Jennie? Is that why you’re thinking about love and girlfriends?” you asked cautiously. You honestly had no idea why you asked this question. You didn’t even want to know the answer. 

“Haha no. It’s just...I dunno I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’ve always said I didn’t want a girlfriend but I don’t even know why I’ve had that mentality. But now.. I think I want that.”

“Want what?”

“That closeness, that dependability, that love”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“The right girl I guess.” 

You winced at those words. Were you not the right girl? 

Trying to distract yourself, you pressed further, “I mean you dated Yeji did that not count?”

“No, it counted. But our relationship was definitely highschool. It wasn’t....deep I guess. The way Jungkook talks about Hana...I know I never felt that in my relationship with Yeji.”

“I’m sure you can find a girl who makes you feel like that.” You hadn’t meant for that to come out as sneakily as it did.

He chuckled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well...you’re literally the most adored boy on campus. And Jennie really wants to date you. So it’s not like you don’t have options,” you said truthfully.

“Yea, but none of that matters,” he said, sighing. 

You gave him a quizzical look.

He continued, “If I’m going to date a girl, I want to be friends with her first. I want to fall for her. And then I want to date her. I don’t want to be unsure of my feelings for her.”

Friends first? We’re friends. Could this...no. Taehyung and I have been friends for so long. If he had caught feelings, he would’ve said so by now.

You kicked your legs in the water, sad because it just seemed this talk with Taehyung just showed you to your face that he didn’t like you. 

You spoke softly, “That’s a good idea. No point in wasting anyone’s time.”

“Exactly.” He stretched his arms out, “Aren’t you going to get in the water?”

You shook your head no

“C’mon, get in. It feels so good.”

You continued to shake your head, “I didn’t bring swim clothes.”

“I’m not in wwim clothes,” he said, looking down at himself.

“If you think that I’m going to go in the hot tub in my underwear, you’re fucking insane,” you said cackling. There was actually no fucking way in hell you would ever do that even if it was your own hot tub, much less with Kim Taehyung right in front of you.

“Okay, just come in with your clothes on.”

“Tae I literally didn’t bring clothes for this. These are the only pajamas I have.”

He pulled your arm and your legs slipped into the water, your pants getting soaked.

“Taehyung!” You exclaimed, shocked at what he just did.

“I have clothes here, you can wear mine. Now please, relax for a goddamn second” he said, laughing.

You narrowed your eyes at him and flipped him off, “I can’t believe you did that.”

He was still laughing and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

You eased your back against the wall of the hot tub, your shoulder touching Taehyung. You didn’t know if your body was heating up because of the water or because of how close Taehyung was.

He perked up, his eyes dancing with excitement, “Guess what?”

“What?” You couldn’t help but feel endeared at his cuteness.

“I finished the second season of Avatar!”

“For real? Oh my god. Wasn’t the ending insane?”

“Bro it was fucking insane. I can’t believe Zuko sided with Azula. And I can’t believe she shot lightning at Aang! That was crazy,” He ranted ecstatically.

You and Taehyung had given each other anime recommendations since you both were looking for new ones to watch.

He rambled on, “I don’t get why you’re in love with Zuko. Like he literally betrayed his uncle, the one dude who was on his side. Maybe for a minute when they were in Ba Sing Se when he was a cute tea shop boy, I understood, but now?”

“Patience Taehyung. You’ll understand soon enough. He’s just lost and confused okay? He just needs someone on his team.”

“Ugh whatever I guess. I’m still not convinced.”

You shook your head, he would understand once he finished the show.

Then you remembered his recommendation, “I’m almost done with the first season of My Hero Academia.”

“Bet. Isn’t it good? Who’s your favorite character?”

“It is good. I like seeing Class 1A interact with each other. They are all so angsty teens, it’s so funny. Umm it would be a tie between Todoroki and Bakugou.”

He looked shocked, “Bakugou? You like him?”

“Yes okay! I believe in him. He just is confused. I'm rooting for him. I think he’s a sweet boy.”

Taehyung shook his head disappointed, “Do you just like all the broken boy characters?”

You opened your mouth to retort something back but couldn’t come up with anything. He was right, you really did love the broken boy arc. It was just the fact that you desperately wanted to help them and show them the love they deserved. Your eyes caught Taehyung and you couldn’t help but feel the same way. You wanted to be the girl that gave him those feelings of real love, to be a real girlfriend to him.

You and Taehyung continued to talk for a while until you realized you two were probably in the hot tub for way too long. 

Wrapped in your towels, you and Taehyung trudged upstairs, shivering from the cold.

Taehyung dropped you off to your room and mentioned that he would be back with clothes. You sat on your bed, buzzing with a warm feeling. Even though the voice at the back of your head was doubting every moment, telling you that Taehyung doesn’t like you like that, you couldn’t help but hold a feeling of hopefulness. He was here, with you right? Didn’t that count for something? 

He came back, dressed in shorts and a black t-shirt, clutching clothes for you. 

You took it from his hand and went to the bathroom to change. You smiled when you saw he brought your favorite sweater of his, the soft gray one, for you to wear. His pants were obviously way too large but you managed to fold up the pant legs so you weren’t drowning in his clothing.

Taehyung was laying on your bed, stretched out scrolling through his phone. He sat up when he heard the bathroom door open and grinned, “You look so cute wearing my clothes.” 

“Shut up,” you said trying to hide your smile.

You walked around the room and noticed the glass double doors between the beds opened. You pushed open the doors and the coldness of the night sent shivers up your spine. You walked over to the edge and rested your elbows on the railing.

The back of your mind was still spinning with Hana’s voice, “Just tell him how you feel!” But you couldn’t do that. There was just too much you were risking: your friendship with Taehyung, your heart.

You tried to calm your waves of nausea and anxiety by taking deep breaths. Was this even worth it? You looked up at the night sky and saw the moon above your head. You sighed, your gaze fixating on a dim star by the bright moon. It actually was quite a beautiful night. It was quiet, a comfortable temperature warm with a light breeze, and the stars amplified the moon's beauty. 

You heard Taehyung's voice behind you, “Damn jungkook really gave us the best room.”

You turned your head and saw Taehyung's boxy smile leaning against the railing right next to you. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You immediately turned your head back to the star.

“Maybe he felt bad for making Hana ditch me,” you smirked.

He gave you a teasing smile, “C’mon ________ you didn’t want another night with the most handsome guy on campus?”

“And you wonder why I don’t shower you in compliments like everyone else on this fucking planet,” you said shaking your head.

“It’s ok. I don’t need the verbal confirmation from you. I know what you think of me.”

You glanced over at him, “And what’s that?”

“Even though you find me annoying, you also undeniably find me endearing. And you also think I’m hot.”

Your jaw dropped in shock at his words, “You’re so fucking full of it.”

He leaned in and brushed away the strand of hair covering your eyes, “Deny all you want but I know it. I can see it in your eyes.”

“My eyes?” you said, scoffing at his ridiculousness.

“Yep, your eyes give away everything.”

“Oh really? What else do they give away?” You said playing along with his game.

“They give away that you definitely don’t know how beautiful you look right now.”

You rolled your eyes. He exclaimed, “See! Right there. You don’t know that. I got that fr-“

You interrupted, chuckling lightly, “From my eyes, right? You’re so full of shit. I bet you use that line on all of the other girls.” 

“What other girls?” he said innocently.

Taehyung was definitely something, creating his own understanding of you, pinpointing things you didn’t even notice about yourself. He looked at you, his big puppy dog eyes glittering in the moonlight, his fluffy curly hair ruffled by the soft breeze of the night. Everything about him made your heart ache with want. 

He cleared his throat, grabbing your attention, “_________ why did you climb out the window? You weren’t getting claustrophobic in a bedroom.”

Oh, so he didn’t believe your answer. You tried to answer as calmly as possible, trying to not let your nerves show, “Um..I just didn’t wanna play the game anymore.”

“What did you mean by when you said ‘I don’t want it to happen like this?’ ”

Oh fuck he didn’t forget you said that. You dropped your head, desperately not wanting to make eye contact with him, “Huh? I don’t remember saying that.”

“Well, when I asked why you didn’t want to kiss me you said that.”

“I think you misheard. I said ‘nope not this’ ”

He said in complete disbelief, “I misheard? With you standing right in front of me?”

“Yep. It’s okay. You should go see a doctor about it though.” You quickly tried to divert his attention, “The stars are really beautiful tonight.”

Luckily, he seemed to understand that you were obviously not answering his questions.

“Guess which star is my favorite?” his head tilting in the direction of the night sky. 

You laughed, “I don’t know. There’s so many out there.”

“Just guess. I have one that’s my favorite.”

“I don’t know. I guess that one” you said pointing to the brightest star in the sky. It was quite far from the moon. 

“Nope. Try again”

“Taehyung, I’m never going to guess it. I give up, just tell me.” 

“That one.” He said pointing in an area near the moon. 

You tried pointing it out with your own finger, “That one?”

He leaned over and placed his hand over yours and guided it in the right direction. He looked at the star for a second and then looked at you “That one.”

You were fixated on the star and when he pulled your hand in the right direction, you realized he was talking about the star you had been staring at the whole night. You turned your head to exclaim to him the coincidence and you found his head only inches away from yours. 

The words got stuck in your throat. His jet black eyes were staring into your soul. 

“That star is my favorite because it’s the most beautiful. It might not be the flashiest star out there and it’s trying to be hidden in the brightness of the moonlight but I see it. And I think it’s the most beautiful star in the entire night sky. “

You realized you had been staring into his eyes for too long. He took both your hands that you hadn’t realized were trembling and enveloped them in his. 

You were panicking. Your heart was beating insanely fast . Your palms felt sweaty. You tried to back away from Taehyung, pulling your hands away. You took a couple small steps back.

He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t want me. Why would he ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty as Jennie. You needed to get yourself out of this situation before you get your hopes up and it fucked you over completely.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your arm being tugged back in his direction. You spun into Taehyung's arms and he caught you in his embrace.

His hands were placed firmly on your waist and your arms were wrapped around his neck. You never realized how tall he was. You were on your tippy toes and you still had to crane your neck slightly to clearly see his face. Tilting downwards, his face was centimeters from yours. His eyes were sparkling with a mischievous glint and he was smiling.

It felt like your whole heart was going to explode. 

What the fuck? Why did he do that?  Is he not completely revolted by me? 

You were attempting to speak the thoughts running through your mind but your brain had completely stopped functioning the second you got a whiff of his cologne. Your mouth was just slightly open trying to breathe because you truly were so confused as to what was happening. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered. 

The only thing you could manage was a small, shy nod. 

Then his soft lips molded against yours. You closed your eyes as you felt your brain short circuit. The way his lips pressed against yours for the first time didn’t feel like electricity struck you. Instead, it felt comforting. It felt like home: his embrace, his lips, his hands on you. Like this was always meant to be. He tasted like strawberry chapstick and spearmint His right hand crept up to the side of your face

and cupped your cheek. Your breath hitched. Taehyung tilted his head at an angle to open your mouth further.

You took this opportunity to push away for a second and breathe. “Taehyung,” you breathed out.

“Shut the fuck up,” he pulled you back into a needy kiss. His plushy lips sucked on your bottom lip and you moaned for a second. Your cheeks reddened at the sound you made. 

“That was so fucking hot,” he said in a shaky whisper. Your hands shift from his neck into his curls, balancing on your toes. You tugged on his curls, pulling his head closer to yours, something you’ve daydreamed about.  He cupped your face and brought you even closer to him. the kisses became deeper, more fervent. As if he couldn’t get enough of you. 

Your mouth opened in response. He took this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. His tongue gilded against yours.  It was better than you ever imagined, better than you hoped, the feel of him; it was making you lose your fucking mind. 

One of Taehyung's hands remained at your waist and the other moved to the small of your back, pushing the front of your chest onto his. 

It seemed like time had stopped. Once you realized you were completely breathless, you pulled away. You were breathing very hard, your heart hammering, and your mind completely numb. He placed two more soft, sweet kisses on your lips. His pupils were completely blown out and his hair was a fluffy mess.

He breathed out, shakily “This is what you meant right?”

Before you could say anything, you heard a knock on the glass door.

“Hey, Taehyung, we need you downstairs.” Jungkook’s head poked out the door. 

Tae’s eyes looked apologetic when he looked at you. 

“I’ll be there in a sec,” he called to Jungkook

You were still kinda breathless. His hands were pressing into your hips as if he didn’t want to let go.

He leaned in and kissed your cheek softly. He whispered in your ear, and you felt a shiver trace down your spine, “I’ll see you soon.”

You nodded and he nuzzled your neck for a second, his lips barely grazing the mole on your neck. 

He slowly let go of your hips, his hands skimming your elbows and then your hands.

You watched him leave as your legs wobbled beneath you. You stood there, in complete shock as to what happened. Your whole body was buzzing, your arms covered in goosebumps, chills from what just happened. 

A cold burst of wind finally snapped you out of whatever trance Taehyung put you in. You softly closed the glass doors behind you as you re-entered your room. You laid down in your bed with a stupid grin that you couldn’t get rid of. You curled up into a ball and relaxed against the pillows. For the first time in a long time, you fell asleep with no thoughts of insecurity or worry plaguing your mind.  

You slowly opened your eyes and felt a familiar weight on you. You carefully looked behind you and saw once again Taehyung completely enveloping you in his embrace. His body heat felt so inviting and comfortable. Your face heated up when you saw he was indeed true to his word and was in fact sleeping shirtless with you. You grabbed your phone and saw a text from Hana.

Hana: leave by 10:30?

You: yep

It was almost 10:30 so you shifted in the bed to get up. Almost immediately, Taehyung pulled you back and whined sleepily, “Where are you going? Sleep with me.”

You giggled at his cuteness, “I have to go. Hana is waiting for me. And I have to get shit done today.”

He nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, “Okayy. My smarty pants girl has to study.”

My girl? Does that mean...? No, he used to say stuff like that before. God, you and Taehyung really did need to talk about whatever this was. But for once in your life, you didn’t feel insecure. He must like you somewhat, right? He kissed you. That has to have meant something. You slid your hands against his broad chest, tracing his well defined muscles, “Yea, I do. But you can text me once you get back to campus. You should sleep in for now.”

He nodded and lifted his head from your shoulder. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. You couldn’t hide the smile that was blooming on your face from him.

You packed up your stuff, got ready, headed downstairs after saying bye to Taehyung. 

You texted Hana to let her know that you were ready to go. You sat on the empty couch in the living room, patiently waiting for her to join you. You were scrolling through Instagram when you heard a petite “ahem” in front of you. You looked up and saw an overly cheerful Jennie in front of you.

“Hi _________!” She said planting herself in the seat next to you.

“Hey Jennie,” Why the fuck is she talking to me?

“So, Taehyung was with you last night?”

“Uh ya,”

“So how was it?”

You wrinkled your eyes in confusion, not understanding her question, “How was what?”

She squealed, “The sex silly! How was it? It was your first time right? That’s such a big deal. Can’t believe you let taehyung be your first! You know he doesn’t get feelings for the girls he fucks right?”

You opened your mouth to say something but she kept going, not stopping once to take a breath, “Oh my god, wasn’t it so good though? I mean actually it might not have been that good since it was your first time but Taehyung is so caring, especially when it comes to sex. And oh my god, isn’t his dick so big? I know I shouldn’t really talk about that but since you guys hooked up I can talk to you about it. But his dick is so huge like you don’t even know since you haven’t been with other people. I’m honestly so surprised you guys fucked though. Like Taehyung usually likes girls with experience. And I guess girls who are...more into the party scene. Like it’s totally cool that you are into school but you're just like not really his type. But it’s okay because you guys fucked so his type might have changed, but I seriously doubt it. Anyways, I’m rambling. So tell me how it was!”` 

You blinked a couple times to fully process every word she said. Every single feeling of insecurity that you thought had disappeared came rushing back into your mind. 

What the fuck. What the fuck was I thinking. I never even told him I liked him. And he never told me. Taehyung is a fuckboi; he doesn’t catch feelings. He could have just kissed me because he was bored or some shit. Why would he trade a relationship with an average looking girl like me for fucking hot girls every weekend. I’m so stupid, what was I thinking!

You took a deep breathe and gave her a smile, “We didn’t fuck. We aren’t together. “

“Oh. Well. Then like girl to girl, I just wanted to let you know that Taehyung and I will probably be together officially very soon.”

You raised your eyebrows at this comment, trying to stifle a laugh, “Does he know this?”

Jennie looked offended but before she could ramble on again Hana texted you that she was outside. You immediately got up and headed to her car.

She squealed, “Soo what happened last night?”

You tried to act nonchalant, “uh, nothing much. We kissed.”

She almost crashed the car when you said that. 

Hana berated you with questions and you gave her the sparknotes of what happened, including Jennie’s weird little monologue in the living room. Hana was almost in tears when you recapped the embarrassing moment of you crawling out a window so you didn’t have to kiss Taehyung. She apologized for her stupidity in suggesting that dare but she insisted you needed the push.

You told Hana how you were feeling, especially how unsure and insecure you felt about the situation with Taehyung. She agreed that it was definitely unclear because neither one of you actually said the words “I like you” to each other. 

You and Hana came up with the plan thay the next time you were to hang out with Taehyung alone, you were going to confess. 

You only piped up the courage to do so because Hana made the convincing argument that Taehyung must like you back. 

However, once you returned to campus, the entire week, you were absorbed with finals and studying. Because of this, you and Taehyung were unable to find time to peacefully spend with each other. Also, your finals were finished a day earlier than Taehyung’s, so you went home early. 

This proved to be working against you as with all the free time at home was only more time for you to worry and overthink about Taehyung. Then, once again you were back to avoiding Taehyung and his messages because you were too scared to actually tell him how you felt.

Tae: hey. just got home last night. wanna hang out? 

Tae: ??? 

Tae: ur so annoying u don’t even have school what could u be doing 

Tae: im literally going to come over i live in ur neighborhood in case u forgot 

You didn’t think he would actually follow through but Taehyung did indeed ring your doorbell that evening. You pressed your ear against your bedroom door to hear the conversation between Taehyung and your mom.

You heard his deep voice, “Hello Mrs._________. How are you doing?”

You rolled your eyes at your mother's overly cheery voice, “I’m doing good, Taehyung. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. You’ve grown up so much!”

“Yes it has been awhile. I’m glad that _________ and I are good friends again. Speaking of __________, is she home? I tried texting her but she didn’t respond. Is she alright?”

“Oh, you’re so sweet! She is feeling a bit under the weather. She’s barely left her room since she’s come home. I’ll let her know that you stopped by.”

“That would be great. It was nice seeing you again Mrs. _________.”

“You too Taehyung. You should come over more often! I know _________ missed you a lot.”

Ugh god, your mom was embarrassing you. 

“Of course I’ll try to stop by once _________ gets back to me. Bye!”

You heard the door close and you groaned. You had to face Taehyung soon. 

Your mom ended up coming to your room and went on and on about how Taehyung was such a nice boy. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. That’s what he needs, more praise.

You laid on your bed, trying to fall asleep but of course it didn’t come easily. As you were trying to focus on the white noise, you realized you kept on getting distracted by a loud pitter patter sound. You got up and heard the sound coming from your window. You walked over and peered out your window.

“You have got to be fucking with me right now” you said, rubbing your temples. 

There was Taehyung, standing outside, throwing pebbles at your window. 

You opened your window, the cool air immediately giving you goosebumps. 

You yelled in a hushed tone, “What are you fucking doing?”

His body smile immediately lit up, “Hey strawberry girl.”

“Taehyung, are you stupid? What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I’m here to see why the fuck you’re ignoring me.”

“I’m uh sick,” you gave two fake coughs, hoping he would be convinced. He was not.

“Cmon _________ I know when you’re lying.”

You heard some clatter coming from downstairs. Fuck. Your parents would be pissed if they saw taehyung outside your window. They obviously thought he was a good guy but your parents had a strict no guys rule. Taehyung was the only exception since you two grew up together but even he wasn’t allowed to come up to your room. 

“Taehyung, I have to go. My parents will see you and we will both get in trouble. We can talk later.” You were about to shut the window but he called your name again. 

“__________! That’s such bullshit. You keep avoiding me. Can’t we talk now?”

“Tae, I can’t keep shouting from my window. I’ll call you. Just go home.”

He stood firmly planted out your window, “Nope. You won’t do that. I’ll stand here all night throwing pebbles at your window. I don’t care if I get in trouble with your parents.”

Fuck. fuck. What should I do? Then you remembered. You went to your closet and found it stored on the highest shelf. Taehyung had actually bought you a rope ladder a long time ago for this very reason of sneaking you out. But you never ended up using it because you were always afraid of getting caught. You threw down the ladder and climbed out of your window quietly. 

Once you landed on the ground, you walked over to Taehyung, arms crossed, pissed that he made you do this. Before you could start yelling at him for being so fucking annoying, he pulled you into a giant hug.

“Missed you. Don’t ever ignore me again,” he whispered into your ear.

And with that hug, you realized how much you missed Taehyung. His warmth, his embrace, his cute smile, his fluffy hair. 

You mumbled, “Missed you too,” softly, hoping he would hear.

You pushed away from him and tried to hide your smile, “My parents are literally going to kill me. I hope you know that.”

“__________ you’re in college. You’re legally an adult. You don’t need to be afraid of getting in trouble with your parents.” Taehyung said, chuckling. He shoved his hands in his hoodie and pulled up his hood, shivering in the cold.

“Okay but you know my parents. They don’t give a shit.”

“Actually, that is very much true. I don’t think they like me very much.” He tugged your arm, leading you down a familiar dirt path. 

“Nah, they like you. For some reason they think you’re like a good kid.”

His mouth opened in shock, “What do you mean for some reason? I’m a great influence on you.”

“Oh really? Like sneaking me out or taking me to frat parties or..” you were trying to think of more dumb shit Taehyung had fully encouraged you to do.

“Or sleeping with you?” He said with a wink.

“Shut up. But for real. They can never know. They would bury us both alive.” 

“Man, we’ve known each other since forever and they still don’t trust me around you.” 

“Don’t take it personally. You’re a guy. They are just strict about boys in general.” You began to recognize whereTaehyung was leading you to.

“Is that another reason why you haven’t dated anyone?”

“Yea I guess. My parents think dating is a distraction. Unless it’s for the intent of marriage then what’s the point. Which I understand. “

Taehyung gripped your hand as he led you down a rocky path, “That sounds lonely.”

“It is. But like I said, it’s not really something I chose. It just kinda happened to me and it’s whatever.”

“I guess I understand in my own way. Dating does take up a lot of time. And I guess I’m afraid it’ll end the same.”

“Same as what?” 

“Same as Yeji. We broke up and I was so upset over it. It hurt a lot because we realized we had no future together. It was just sad that we made all those memories together and now we barely speak.”

“Fuck, that sucks.” 

He nodded, fully agreeing.

Suddenly the path opened up to a clearing, a grassy field with a large tree planted by a shimmering lake. 

He still held onto your hand as you made your way to the tree. You sat down, leaning your back against the tree and Taehyung laid his head on your lap. You started to ruffle his curly hair, playing with the strands.

“Remember how we used to come here?” Taehyung said, softly smiling.

You nodded, recalling how you and taehyung would come here on the weekends, having picnics, reading stories, playing cards. This tree by the lake was filled with precious memories for you and Taehyung. You kept coming even when Taehyung and you weren’t friends.

“Why were you ignoring me _________?” He asked looking up at you with his big brown eyes filled with worry.

“We were both so busy with finals I just wanted us to focus on our studies,” You said, only being partially honest.

“Sure, it’s not cause of anything else right?”

“What else could it be?”

“Maybe the fact that I kissed you and we haven’t spoken about it all.”

You closed your eyes, regretting opening your mouth. Fuck, you really didn’t want to talk about your feelings. You felt the familiar anxious feeling creep up into your heart. You took a deep breath and tried to remember Hana’s words, “___________, this boy likes you.  A lot. He kissed you. He spends time with you. He texts you.. He cares about you. He treats you like a girlfriend and he wants to do boyfriend things with you. He likes you, there is no doubt about it.”

You snapped back to reality, “Yeah that has to do with it.”

“Okay so let’s talk,” He said sitting upright, leaning again against the tree, his shoulder brushing yours.

“Um. Why don’t you go first?” You said as you felt your heart race in your chest. You were going to do it. You were going to finally tell him how you felt.

He gave you a cute little smile, “Well it was a really nice kiss. How did you like it? It was your first kiss.”

“Um uh yea it was really nice. Really sweet,” You babbled out.

“Okay cool. Well then that’s that. We don’t need to be awkward around each other right?”

You nodded. It was now or never. He seemed to have such a chill response to the kiss. He didn’t freak out so he must have enjoyed it. So that means he likes me, right?

Your voice got quiet, “Taehyung.”

His eyes met yours. You whispered out, heart pounding, “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” He asked, earnestly.

“I um...” you were racking your brain trying to find the right words to say. You were fiddling with your hands, hoping it would calm you down.

Taehyung looked at you, wide eyed, and took your hands into his.

He leaned in close, his breath tickling your ears, “Hey. You can tell me anything. I'm listening.”

Your brain shut off the second He held your hands. “It's you. It’s fucking you. I like you. I like you a whole fucking lot Kim Taehyung. I think I might love you at this point. And I just really needed to tell you.” 

It went dead silent. All you could hear was Taehyung's soft breathing, the rustle of the wind, and the quiet ripples from the lake. 

Then he smiled and let out a light laugh.

Your heart immediately lifted. He’s smiling. That’s a good sign. He’s going to tell you that he likes you too and then you could be a couple. You were freaking out over nothing. 

“Are you being for real?” He said shakily.

You narrowed your eyes brows, confused at his response.

He laughed nervously. Your confidence was going down rapidly. 

“__________ you aren’t being serious right?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m being serious. I meant what I said.”

“Cmon ________ why would you do this to me?”

Your heart dropped. Oh my god. It was slowly becoming clear to you. He doesn’t like me. He’s mad that I told him how I felt. This was literally your biggest fear. He doesn’t want you. He never did. 

You couldn’t look at Taehyung anymore. You tore your gaze away from him, “What are you saying? You don’t have feelings for me?”

“__________ I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. But you literally do know that I’m not interested in dating anyone. I’ve told you this.”

Your voice was faltering as you tried to maintain a calm demeanor, “But...you said that...you were thinking about it.”

“Yea I was thinking about it. That doesn’t mean I want to involve myself with someone right away. I’m honestly not ready for a relationship again.” He sighed, clearly frustrated, running his hand through his curly hair. You were frozen, you felt hot tears well up in your eyes but you were determined to not let him see you cry.

He continued, sounding somewhat angry, “I just told you how much my break up with Yeji hurt me.” 

You closed your eyes, letting yourself absorb all of his hurt words. It was too late now. You couldn’t take it back. You let it all out, all your thoughts and feelings and it turned out to be exactly how you feared. You were an idiot. You let your guard down again and you let him in again. And he broke your heart. Again. 

You voiced another nagging thought, “But you kissed me...”

His words were sharp and cold, “It was just a kiss __________. It’s not that deep or that big of a deal.”

This is exactly what you were afraid of. Losing these meaningful moments with someone who not only doesn’t care about you but also someone who finds them unimportant. The kiss meant everything to you and absolutely nothing to him. 

Taehyung's voice softened, “I’m sorry ________ but I don’t know how I feel okay? I’m confused. I do like you but I’m just not sure if it’s the way you want me to.” 

You felt his hand cup your cheek and he tiled your face towards him, finally making eye contact. He saw your teary, red eyes that you tried so hard to hide. “I’m sorry,” he whispered out. The way your heart was thudding against your chest made you realize no matter what he did, no matter how he hurt you, no matter how many times he would take your heart and crush it into tiny bits, you would still love him. God you were so fucked.

You whispered back hoarsely, staring deep into his dark eyes, feeling brave enough to speak your mind to him one more time, “Don’t be. I just...always had this hope in my head, I guess. Maybe that with time...you could love me the way I wanted you to. But if we were meant to be, we would have been by now. Someone like me doesn’t end up with someone like you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You got up abruptly and left. You heard him distantly calling your name but you couldn’t turn back. Every muscle in your body wanted you to turn around and just say “forget it” to Taehyung and have things return back to normal. But for once, you listened to your head, it was over, you told him how you felt and he didn’t give a shit. 

You walked home, alone, feeling comforted by the coldness of the night. You climbed back in your room and threw the ladder deep into your closet, knowing you would never need it again. You laid in your bed, processing what just happened. You believed in something that wasn’t even real. You glanced at your tear stained face in the standing mirror across from your bed. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that wasn’t enough for him. The truth was you couldn’t be mad at Taehyung. You didn’t even love yourself. And that’s how you understood why Taehyung didn’t either. You closed your eyes, finally letting the exhaustion set in and breathing slowly, as if all of the pressure of stress and anxiety were dissipating from your body. 

The reality settled in your brain and your heart: being lonely fits you. 

author’s note: part 5 will definitely be the last part. i was writing this and i realized it was getting very lengthy and there are some plot parts im still working out lol. anyways i was very inspired by some tv shows and movies i rewatched recently for this part (new girl, princess diaries 2, & ofc to all the boys). lmk what you think and if you would like to be added to the taglist!

tags: @fleurmoon @tangledsparkles @chocolatebelievercrusade @brokenobserver @ncitydreamies @soulstaes @bonnyskies @thelilbutifulthings @busansgloss @imluckybitches @xlectrahearts @embrace-themagic @bts-dreamybaby @belshka @trinbin039 @xxlostinseoul @sheislikearock @madjammil @guksflavor @yn-the-reader @kingjvngins @ggukkieland @waves-and-woods @aa-ronpa

[mikkeneko]

10 favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms

Tagged by @drowningbydegrees  :) Like her, going with "first ten that came to mind" over any other, like, universal all-encompassing criteria.

I could swear I've done a list like this before, but when I checked to make sure I wasn’t repeating characters it looked like I’d done 10 favorite overall characters, not female specifically. Always nice to have a more specific search term!

1. Cordelia Naismith from the Vorkosigan series

Cordelia has been a favorite character from a favorite series for years, but having her return in Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen to show us how she’s grown and changed in the thirty-five years since we last had her as a POV character really deepened my appreciation for her. Cordelia mostly held the role of the Progressive Expat in the feudal, militaristic and overwhelmingly male-dominated society of Barrayar that she married into, and she spend her entire life fighting to bring more egalitarian and humanitarian perspectives to her adopted culture. Gentleman Jole showed us some of the changes Barrayar worked on her in return; she’s a lot harder, a lot more bloodthirsty, and a lot more tired  at the end of her career than the beginning, although she never lost hold of her core principles. Above all I really have to admire Gentleman Jole  for saying “You know what? Fuck it. Cordelia gets everything she wanted. She no longer has to put her dreams and wishes on hold to try to help her husband or son’s career along. She gets to retire to the planet she discovered and she gets six baby girls and a hot younger boyfriend and a seat on a scientific research committee. No more sacrifices. Cordelia gets everything she ever wanted.” and I for one think that’s extremely good.

2. Eowyn from the Lord of the Rings

Was just having the discussion with my fiance yesterday about how despite the fact that Tolkein is on record as saying he doesn’t know how to write female characters, he did a pretty great job with Eowyn, giving her a full multifaceted personhood with a lovely character arc of her own (which is not, despite first appearances, centered on being in love with a man) dealing with themes and issues that are still  relevant, and  doing so in a way that was specific to the female experience of the society she was written in. So either he underestimated his capacity to write female characters or he was smart enough to listen to the input of a female editor, either way, good job. It would be nice to have more  characters like Eowyn in LOTR, but no complaints about this one.

3. Vin from the Mistborn trilogy

Sanderson generally writes pretty good female characters, although they don’t always overshadow the male characters in the same books. Going to pick just one from Sanderson’s stuff it was either going to be Vin or Vivenna, and I came down on the side of Vin because she’s just pretty great. I think my favorite thing about Vin is that she became a legend in the world that came after Mistborn,  and that as much as she is admired for her achievements Marasi still points out, correctly, that not all  women should have  to be the Ascended Warrior, there are other valid ways of being a woman (and a hero.)

4. Gideon Nav from the Locked Tomb trilogy

There’s something extremely, extremely refreshing about how pure of a himbo Gideon Nav manages to be, and I adore her for it. Gideon Nav saw a giant skeleton juggernaut with swords for hands and her immediate reaction was “I want to fight that.” Icon.

5. Sophie Hatter from Howl's Moving Castle

There are a lot of really great female characters in Diana Wynne Jones so it’s hard to pick just one, but Sophie is one very dear to my heart. Suddenly finding oneself to be ninety years old and taking that as an excuse to fling off all the ridiculous social restrictions of your age and gender? Mood. Feeling like a failure despite your repeated and provable talents as an organizer and your newly discovered talents as a witch? Big  mood.

6. Kiri from Madness Season

I am always at a loss about what happened  in C.S. Friedman’s other books because she can  write female characters well! Kiri and Hesseth prove she can! She just... doesn’t. Anyway Kiri was the best part of The Madness Season,  being an unimaginably old alien from a race of energy-based shapeshifters who mostly regard the antics of the ‘embodied’ species with tolerant fondness. Her species and society rely very heavily on having symbiote partners of an embodied species and she spends most of the book slapping the protagonist character upside the head and yelling “You! I choose you! Get your head out of your ass, get your immortal shit together, because you’ve got to be my partner now!” And he does, and in the process saves the galaxy, it’s rad.

7. Agatha Heterodyne from Girl Genius

Agatha Heterodyne is an absolute Mary Sue of a character, a busty blonde knockout who one day discovers herself to be the secret genius heir of a continent-spanning mad science empire, and people come from all over to swear either loyalty or lifelong enmity with her. And you know what? She’s valid.

8. Miriam from Spinning Silver

Spinning Silver contains a very excellent trio of great female leads, but Miriam is IMHO the best for the sheer spite-fueled power of “fuck the world that’s done this to my family, fuck the Winter King who thinks he can ride in here and walk all over me, and especially fuck you demon-infested tsar who is at least partially culpable for BOTH of these things!” 

9. Parker from Leverage

I didn’t want to leave one of my favorite TV shows off here, but mostly I admire Parker for how much she learned and grew; she starts off the series with an extremely specific set of skills and very narrow set of priorities and over the seasons that follow, she grows to encompass more wants and obligations and dreams and she grows so much  in skills that by the end of the series she’s the Mastermind, and she deserves it.

10. Wen Qing from The Untamed

Wen Qing deserved better than she got, she was placed in an impossible situation and she did everything she could to protect her family, both immediate and extended, from callous warmongers who wanted to use her. She never lost her pride or her principles even when the world was busy grinding her into the dust, she tried so hard, she got chewed up and spit out by a cruel society and unlike the main character, she never was given a second chance. I cry for Wen Qing.

Tagging in turn @faux-fires, @ushauz, @fairandfatalasfair, @curiosity-killed, @cersee?

[songofclarity]

For a character who was the catalyst for all the events of the novel WRH got way too little attention and show time in the novel heck we don't even get a face off between him and the protagonists. To me if JGS was a pig in a golden pigsty, JGY a sneaky fox, and XY a rabid dog, then WRH was a mighty dragon. He had all the makings of an amazing villain but that potential was wasted and imo that is one of mdzs' greatest flaws

Mighty dragon Wen RuoHan is so true, Anon!

The spoiled pig in the golden pigsty came out on top after the Sunshot Campaign. He had all the money, a beautiful family, and an intact sect, and yet he wanted all the power left in Wen RuoHan’s wake--as if the world hadn’t fought for three years to get rid of the original.

The treacherous snake who cuddled up to others to steal their warmth and yet bit to kill at the first sign of movement. He acted like that warmth was his due and he had no choice but to bite. Surely the actions of others would either do him harm or leave him cold! He tricked Wen RuoHan into believing their scales meant they were similar, but he only ever dreamed of being a pig in that golden pigsty. (There is a connotation of mischief and charm with “sneaky fox” that does not fit Jin GuangYao in my mind lol)

The rabid dog who was used to being beaten and yet would accept a warm bed and a dish of food from any kind hand. He won’t bite the hand that feeds him but he will absolutely maul anyone who threatens that warm bed and new home he found--or anyone who looks like an easy target for some fun and games.

And then there is the mighty dragon!

I've been trying to respond to this ask for a few days because I agree and yet I also kind of disagree on that last point. I find it hard to say Wen RuoHan’s potential was wasted because it’s his potential to do harm that kept the Sunshot Campaign alive but also his lesser-discussed potential to be influenced towards doing good that could have prevented a lot of grief. Although he didn’t get a lot of page time, his importance to the story is practically on par with Wei WuXian himself and he continues to exist as a specter of evil even after he is dead.

This quote comes to mind during empathy:

On Koi Tower, people came and went. Before Nie MingJue's high viewpoint, the crowd parted again and again, with both sides nodding at him in respect, calling him "ChiFeng-Zun." Wei WuXian thought, Such a show of extravagance is going to reach even the heavens. All these people both fear and respect Nie MingJue. There's quite a few people who fear me, though not a lot who respect me. (Ch. 49 ERS)

One of the major conflicts in MDZS is based on one question: who gets to be the next Wen RuoHan after the Sunshot Campaign? And the sane answer is that it should be nobody. The Sects are independent entities who should take care of themselves and work in cooperation without controlling each other. The Wen Sect was never actually in charge of the other sects so it’s quite twisted for the Chief Cultivator position to be created in the wake of Wen RuoHan’s death. Wen RuoHan is still a catalyst for events even after he is murdered!

More so, when people were saying they hoped Wen Qing would one day take over as Sect Leader Wen because she had a normal way of doing things, it’s because Wen RuoHan calling the former Sect Leader Nie over to passive-aggressively slap his saber a few times and tell him it is a good saber is just bizarre. Of course Wen Qing’s ways of doing things are normal!

Compare Wen Qing being angry:

"If you really are grateful then put in some effort! What [the] hell kind of medicine did you just make? Brew it again!" (Ch. 60 ERS)

To Wen RuoHan:

And, thus, Wen RuoHan wasn't pleased anymore...

Wen RuoHan laughed after he heard. “Are you sure about that? Well, I want to see.” (Ch. 49, ERS)

But back to the scene at Koi Tower, it’s funny that the one closest to becoming Wen RuoHan is quite possibly Nie MingJue, the one now respected and feared, the one who fought the most against Jin GuangShan creating the Chief Cultivator seat. Why did Jin GuangShan create the Chief Cultivator seat? Because no one was ever going to respect him or to listen to him, much less respect him and fear his power to let him do whatever he pleased. But even then, Nie MingJue had to travel to Koi Tower to point Baxia while he made his demands. Jin GuangShan and Jin GuangYao had to murder and lie and scheme to get what they wanted. Wei WuXian had to figuratively set himself on fire. Wen RuoHan simply had to call his target of his ire over and he came, and then he let fate run its course.

Wei WuXian, Nie MingJue, Jin GuangShan, Jin GuangYao--none of them ever held even a fraction of the power wielded by Wen RuoHan. A power shown when Lan XiChen and a bunch of other juniors looked at the waterborne abyss and didn’t even dare to speak the name of the Qishan Wen aloud. Our spoiled pig and even rabid dog look to demonic cultivation to gain that fear element since they lack the wow factors of a powerful cultivator. Wei WuXian and Nie MingJue end up dead because a spoiled pig and a treacherous snake want their golden pigsty to go uncontested.

So it’s hard to speak of Wen RuoHan not meeting his potential when all the Sects left in his wake never achieve a fraction of what Wen RuoHan had. And even then, at no point in the story does Wen RuoHan ever wake up in the morning and pick murder, although the same cannot be said for the likes of Wen Chao, Jin GuangYao, Xue Yang, and even Wei WuXian.

So what I’m getting at here is that despite Wen RuoHan’s lack of appearances, we learn a lot about him through other characters trying to either work for or against him or emulate him. And he does face off against one of our protagonists: Nie MingJue! Although that we don’t get to see their first fight in Yangquan when Nie MingJue was fresh is truly frustrating!

Because even though we do get a Wen RuoHan face-off with a protagonist, it’s his assassination that gets all the attention--and it’s because Nie MingJue avoids talking about traumatic experiences and Jin GuangYao already got what he wanted from that event. The mural at Koi Tower immortalizing the assassination of Wen RuoHan is a snapshot of the heroic Jin GuangYao taking out the Big Bad in a glorious moment. It was also, however, a huge red flag that Jin GuangYao is willing to murder someone who gave him respect, protection, and empowerment so long as he could use their blood to pave his road ahead.

I do have to wonder on the degree of Wen RuoHan’s villainy when he didn’t even bother to take the life of his son’s killer and he passed on the opportunity to torture him, too. But no one in the story talks about Wen RuoHan as a person. They talk about Sect Leader Wen as a symbol, and he becomes a symbol of evil.

Everyone becomes so focused on Wen RuoHan as the Big Bad that for all the crimes the spoiled pig and the treacherous snake perpetrate, the majority of the cultivation world responds with, “If this [evil act and/or abuse of power] was done by the Wen Sect, we would be really concerned. Since the people doing it are not-Wens, it can’t be evil and thus we can allow it to happen.”

And thus the Jin get away with doing a lot of evil. Lan XiChen can look at Jin GuangYao and say, “he has his reasons,” because Lan XiChen has been victimized by the Wens and Jin GuangYao murdered Wen RuoHan so surely there is a divide there between good and evil, right and wrong. This is a very convenient way for letting the Jin get away with doing a lot of bad things! Wei WuXian rescuing the Wen Remants, meanwhile, places him conveniently within the Wen-Sect-Is-Bad camp, and we all know how that goes.

So I do agree that Wen RuoHan had all the potential to become a great villain, not just because he has all the power and followers that let him do whatever he wanted but also because the cultivation world sold us the story of him being a monstrous villain who loved blood and torture. But when the other sects create an uprising against the Wen Sect and label it the Sunshot Campaign, not once does Wen RuoHan try to subdue them. Not once does Wen RuoHan ever turn to violence and punishment or slaughter. He had the potential to be a great villain and stomp on all of them! But he doesn’t.

And I don’t think that’s because his potential went unmet. That’s just his character. He is an antagonist with the potential to become a great villain and yet he stays his hand. His power instead draws villains to him like flies to honey. There’s a reason people wear their time spent as a guest cultivator of the Wen Sect with pride! Wen RuoHan is good to his Sect. The perks and benefits cannot be matched.

But it’s not only the dregs of society that come to the Wen Sect and abuse its power. Wen RuoHan has three morally distinct people closest to him that reveal that he has the potential to be well-rounded:

Wen Qing: speaks her mind, a doctor, refuses to kill, intelligent, talented in the liberal arts, accompanies Wen RuoHan to discussion conferences, pays her debts, won’t die for the main branch which is just an alternative of her don’t-kill policy which is don’t-die-for-stupid-shit-customs policy

Wen ZhuLiu: loyal to a fault, dedicated, obedient, was told to protect Wen Chao and does his job incredibly well because this is how he pays his debt to Wen RuoHan for saving him, doesn’t do anything unnecessary, doesn’t speak unnecessary words

Meng Yao: loyal only to himself at the end of the day, prideful, hardworking, scheming, ambitious, supports petty revenge, pro-murder, stabs as a warning, will sell you to satan for one corn chip, does not acknowledge owing debts to anyone but has the receipts on what others owe him

All three characters are respected for their talents and effectively do as Wen RuoHan tells them. Wen Qing leaves for the Yiling Supervisory Office and takes her rational mind with her. Wen ZhuLiu leaves to protect Wen Chao and leaves Wen RuoHan undefended. Meng Yao makes himself useful in Nightless City and thus stays closest to Wen RuoHan’s side. So who is the one speaking in Wen RuoHan’s ear the most? The one saying murder is OK so take revenge.

And even then Wen RuoHan still doesn’t take his revenge, I’m just saying.

But what I’m trying to get at on this scenic route is that Wen RuoHan is left with all this wonderful potential for a reason. Not only do we see his potential but other characters see it, too. His potential is turned into someone else’s profit. Nie MingJue claims that Wen Qing should have spoken up more, which implies Wen RuoHan has the potential for change or even to do good. The majority, however,  persist on not just his potential but his status as a great evil. The characters in the story make Wen RuoHan into the penultimate evil by a post-war consensuses. With that, the ceiling is pushed so high that other evils are able to bloom in the glass house they’ve made.

“Whatever we do can never be as bad as what Wen RuoHan and the Wen Sect did,” the cultivation world says as they let a mass murderer run rampant, as people are used for demonic cultivation test subjects, as prisoners of war are beaten and killed, as a dozen women are raped and murdered for petty revenge, as brother betrays brother, as a father murders his innocent son for political gain, as juniors are kidnapped and used as bait...

So absolutely Wen RuoHan was a catalyst for many events because people either wanted to be him, have him in their fighting corner, or kill him. He perpetuated events by wanting to correct the cultivation world as he saw fit by indoctrinating juniors in the Wen Sect ways or by setting up supervisory offices to prevent rebellious behavior. He delegated these tasks which put people in positions of power that they only saw fit to abuse.

But Wen RuoHan’s potential to be a great villain competes with his inherent lack of interest in causing death and destruction. I think that makes him not just a compelling antagonist compared to all the others but a fascinating character in general. Considering MDZS gets praised for all its morally grey characters, I don’t think Wen RuoHan should be left out of the conversation.

[inessencedevided]

One thing I can not forgive jin guangyao for is marrying his sister and killing their kid. All the other stuff is bad of course but for his point of view very clever of jin guangyao. Jin guangyao best most clever villain hands down.

This answer is going to be a bit rambly :D

So, i adore Meng Yao/Jin Guangyao, both as a villain and as a truly fascinating and complicated character. I have a thing for villains that do objectively terrible things but for reasons that make you sympathise with them.

There is a small part of me (the same that wishes Jiang Yanli had just snabbed and stabbed a guy at some point) that looks at some of jgy's crimes (like killing his father) and thinks good for you. Because i get his anger towards the injustice of it all. But the thing is, he did not actually get justice or win anything. He did not change a corrupt system, he merely used the corruption to get ahead in it. He didn't defeat the system, the system defeated him.

And here lies the tragedy of the story: I don't think that there was a moral way for Jin Guangyao to achieve the kind of recognition he craved because he was craving it within this already immoral society. (The kind of recognition he gained from nie mingjue and lan xichen, simply as Meng Yao was obviously not the kind he craved)

And that's why he went so far and why even complete innocents had to suffer, like his son.

(It's a bit depressing, honestly. We talk at length about how in mdzs/cql, society is the real villain. Jin Guangyao, is in the end, perceived a villain because he tried to defeat society at it's own game by playing by its bloody rules. Wei Wuxian is perceived a villain when he tries to go against these rules. The only ones who get their happy ending? The ones who more or less leave the cultivation world altogether. Luo Qingyang, Wei Wuxian in the drama and Wangxian in the novel because they might live in cloud recesses but they pretty much do their own thing)

So, it's not even really about the morality of his actions. There are plenty of people who do awful shit in mdzs, I'd argue almost everyone to some degree. It's about wanting to get ahead in a society that , in order for you to do so l, requires you to do immoral things. Jin Guangyao simply pushes that to the extreme.

So much so that he is willing to sacrifice the real connections he already has with others. His innocent son, his wife who could have been an ally and Lan Xichen who was willing to truly see him and accept him as he was, son of a whore and all. (Btw, I absolutely think that Lan Xichen knew at least of some of the things Jin Guangyao was capable of. He knew for example that he had killed Nie soldiers to secure his place next to Wen Ruohan. Do you think what I really think Lan Xichen's blind spot was? Whatever hardship he faced because he had so much responsibility at such an early age, he never experienced true powerlessness and disrespect for the very essence of his being. I honestly believe it's their difference in privilege that separated the two of them. Lan Xichen, however empathetic he is, could never understand the deep humiliation of having every part of you disregarded, disrespected and drowned out.)

So when ge kills his son and marries his sister, I think he's simply in to deep to give up and choose the right thing over the thing that will keep him where he is. In his mind, that is the most important thing so he makes what I'm sure he thought were necessary sacrifices.

This was probably not the answer you were looking for, anon,but I said it would get rambly ^^

If you just look at the individual actions btw, yeah, killing his son is obviously right up there at the top of his list of fucking AWFUL shit he did to keep his position. As to marrying his sister, that's kind of ... not at the top for me. Obviously it's not right but a) the majority of my anger there is directed at Jin Guanshan who raped a woman and thus put them in that possotion. And b) he only learned of it right before the wedding and he is right, calling the wedding off would have been extremely difficult for both him and Qin Su. (And even more so if they had told the truth about why. Qin Su especially would have suffered then). If I'm remembering the novel correctly, they even already conceived Jin Rusong before Jin Guangyao learned the truth. (Correct me of I'm remebering that part wrong) Honestly, the least awful solution would have been to tell Qin Su. They could have still gotten married but never consumated it (at least in cql canon). Jin Guangyao had an heir in Jin Ling anyway and i think their reputations might have survived not having children. (Just imagine. They could've been besties and, from time to time, wingmen. Qin Su could have helped jin guangyao to tell Lan Xichen the truth and then given them their blessing to pursue a relationship. Eventually, when she falls in love, jin guangyao could have done the same for her ... a girl can dream)

But that would have required a more trusting, less damaged Jin Guangyao and that person would have made different choices anyway ...

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Be Mine - A Loceit and Dukexiety fic

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Logan was falling. He didn’t realize it at first. Or maybe he did, and he didn’t know what to do. However, the time came when he could no longer ignore what he was feeling. When he could no longer ignore the fact that Janus haunted his every thought, smirking, laughing, and smiling. When he could no longer ignore the fact that Janus sent him into red-faced spasms of suppressed laughter and grins whenever he even said anything. When he could no longer ignore how hard it was to breathe at even the slightest brush of contact with the other side, and the lightning that seemed to fill him. When he could no longer ignore how Janus undid him, and made him want to be something more.

Logan snapped his book shut, stood up, and stretched. Setting it neatly down on his desk, Logan strode towards the door of his bedroom and slipped out. Walking quickly down the hall towards the living room, he shoved the already growing nervousness deep down into himself. “Hello everyone!” Logan called out, striding into the room. Doing his best to be subtle, Logan faced the opposite direction as Janus. “I plan to stay functional today. And, as much as it pains me to say, me around him is the opposite of functional.”

“Hey Lo. It’s been a while since you’ve come out of your room. Now, I am all for reclusively hiding in one’s bedroom, but it’s you. There must be some reason that explains why you’ve been, well, hiding from us.” Virgil smirked as he leaned backward on the couch, his eyes saying he knew full well why Logan had turned reclusive. “Virgil, I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. I’ve simply been busy, that is all.” Logan replied as he opened the pantry and pulled out a packet of ramen. “Oh come on Lo-Lo. We know you! You always come out of your room regularly! And we especially know that you never, ever eat ramen. Why, only last week you were going over how bad it is for you and how it will negatively influence your health in the future. So, what’s up?” Patton unabashedly pulled out his puppy eyes, silently begging for Logan to tell him what was happening.

Roman and Remus grinned from the corner. After Virgil, who was made extremely observant due to his nature, not counting Logan, Roman was the next most observant side. Especially with things to do with love and romance, Roman was observant and usually knew what was happening. And now, he could tell very well what was up with Logan. And Roman had without a doubt informed Remus of his revelations. “Well, I know what has gotten into our nerd’s brain.” Remus called to Patton with a shit-eating grin on his face. “He’s got a crus-” Remus tried to continue but was promptly cut off by Logan, hissing that “If you say one more word I will kill you Remus, and I wouldn’t advise testing me on this.” Logan straightened, breathless, and wasted no time fleeing from the room with his freshly made ramen, without so much as a word.

Janus, who had been completely silent this entire time, began to run over the conversation in his head. In truth, he himself had been harboring a crush toward Logan for some time now, and even the slightest chance of reciprocation sent feelings equivalent to glorious sunsets and crashing waves and entwined hands shooting through his head. Losing himself to his head, Janus departed from reality, and allowed himself to imagine a life with Logan. It was filled with laughter and teasing and riddles and late night mystery movie marathons. “I love you, Janus. And I won’t ever let you go.” Logan would say, smiling a great big smile and holding him close. Janus could feel himself smiling softly, but at that moment he couldn’t care.

“Oh my god, look at Janus. Both of them are so far gone it is unbelievable.” Virgil muttered to Remus. “I mean, I would know the feeling. Because I am so far gone for you I can barely believe it either.” Remus’s face shined as brightly as the sun at this, and replied with a whispered “Oh Vee. You have no idea how much I love you either.” The two embraced tightly, completely unaware and uncaring of the others in the room.

Pulling out of the embrace, Virgil stood up and locked his phone before setting it down on the table. “I’m going after Logan. I cannot stand this any longer. I’m going to do something or be murdered by a nerd trying.” Remus grinned, nodded his approval, and sat back. “I’m going to be waiting here. If my predictions are correct, then I’m going to be hearing some yelling or the crashing of broken objects soon. And I am all in favor of that.” Virgil, rolling his eyes at that, took off down the hall, all the while planning what he was going to say. He knew that Logan would be the issue. He stalwartly refused to admit to experiencing any type of romantic feelings or even the possibility of it. “Oh well. He may be stubborn, but so am I.” Virgil thought as he neared Logan’s room. Knocking on the door, he stood back and waited for Logan to answer it.

On the other side of the door, Logan was pacing the room, waging a furious debate with himself. Upon hearing the knock at the door, he heaved a sigh and went to open it. Logan knew very well that it was Virgil, and he also knew very well that Virgil wouldn’t move from the door until it was opened, or until Remus came to drag him away. Opening the door slowly, Logan cringed as he prepared for the outburst. And he was not disappointed.

“Logan. You’re smart, so I know you know why I’m here. And you know I’m not going to leave.” Logan sighed, took off his glasses, and set them on the bedside table. “Yes, Virgil, I do know why you’re here. But I must confess, I don’t know what you expect to achieve with this-” Logan was cut off by Virgil, who had followed him into the room and now practically exploded with words. “Logan, come on! We both know that you’re pining for Janus and have been for a while. Roman knows, Remus knows. Hell, even Patton is starting to suspect. Janus is the only oblivious one, and if he would open his eyes he would see it. You are majorly crushing, and so is he. I spent WAY too much time denying my own heart, and I am not about to see it happen all over again! Do you know what happened when I spoke to Remus?” Logan made an attempt to speak up, but then fell silent again.

“One thousand pounds of weight was lifted from my shoulders. I felt like I could finally breathe again. And now, I’m so much happier. I’m so happy I wouldn’t have even believed it possible. Now, you’re going to march in there and say something! Anything! Anything to break the ice you’re both walking on.” Virgil paused for breath, his eyes shining with some hidden emotion.

“Lo, come on. Please. Both you and Janus are some of my best friends that I have. It sucks for me to sit by. And watch. And wish for either of you to make a move. So, I’m begging you. Please. Don’t make the same mistake I did.” Virgil finally fell silent, seemingly waiting for Logan to say something. Logan took a deep breath, mustering a thousand different excuses, all of which quailed with one withering look from Virgil. Logan then uttered several soft curses under his breath, and placed his glasses back on his head. “Ok. Very well. I do see your point, but… Virgil. What if he says no. What if he laughs in my face.” In that moment, the doubt nearly drowned Logan. “Oh come on Logan. I can promise you that he won’t. You may be a genius, but I can read people. I can promise you that he will not say no.” At that, Logan strode to the door, gave a nod of thanks, and took off down the hall.

Emerging once again into the living room, Logan was at this point running on adrenaline and very little else. Walking up to Janus, he blocked out Patton’s squeals, Roman’s quiet laughter, and Remus’s downright smirk. “Janus. I-well. I think you’re really cool, and nice, and interesting, and-”

“Oh my god, I sound like a middle schooler.” Logan thought to himself as he fidgeted under Janus’s gaze. “Well, I’ll get to the point then.” Logan took a deep inhale, preparing to take the dive. It was only at this moment that Janus seemed to realize what was happening, and his eyes widened. “Janus. I think you’re spectacular. An amazing person, and somebody I am so glad to know. And I have something to ask of you. Will you let me be yours?”

Logan said all of this in a rush, blushing and stuttering, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go through with it if he didn’t get it over with quickly. Now, having said it, he felt the world crashing down. Not even waiting for Janus’s response, Logan turned and fled, leaving chaos behind. Patton was squealing loud enough to raise the dead, Roman was cheering, and Remus was downright cackling out loud at the chaos that had been caused. Janus was bright red, and constantly having to remind himself to breathe as he realized over and over again that everything he had been dreaming of had just come true. Standing up, Janus sped after Logan, not allowing the situation to slip away like water.

Logan arrived back at his room, entered it, and slammed the door shut. Running his hands through his hair, Logan sat on his bed and contemplated whether he would ever return to society. “Oh my god, I messed everything up. What on earth was I thinking? There’s never a chance that that could ever be a thing. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” Logan fought to calm himself even as his ecstasy began to rise and a weight lifted from his shoulders. “Well, this is the oddest combination of emotions I’ve ever experienced in my life.” What Logan wasn’t expecting however, was the knock on his door.

Janus stood at the door, shifting from foot to foot. “I do hope he opens it. This would be incredibly awkward otherwise.” The door opened then, and a disheveled Logan stood before him, shock evident on his face. Janus raised his eyebrows in question, and Logan hesitantly nodded, opening the door farther to let him through.

Janus adjusted his hat before turning to Logan and beginning to speak. “Well. I can’t say that wasn’t unexpected. But may I say, it was also completely welcome. As I’m sure Virgil has already assured you many times, there is no way I couldn’t feel the same.” Janus advanced towards Logan slowly, not halting eye contact and not stopping talking. “So, I have come for clarification. What you said was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because I like you Logan, I like you very much.” Logan realized about now that he was completely cornered by Janus, between him and the wall. Reminding himself to breath, Logan stared right back at Janus, even as his heart went ballistic. “So, Logan Sanders. I guess I could say I’ve come to ask you something. I’ve come to ask you if you will be mine.” At that, Logan heard angels sing and didn’t allow himself to hesitate before he whispered “Yes.”

With this, Janus leaned in towards Logan and their lips met. It was an explosion equivalent to a nuclear bomb. It was a meteor strike and glittering stars. It was pounding rain and drifting clouds. It was high piercing mountain peaks and deep ocean depths. It was the wonder of a full moon and the freedom of a raging fire. It was the joy of loud cheers and it was the thrill of an electric shock. It was everything groundbreaking in the world, condensed into one moment. It was perfection, as Logan threaded his hands through Janus’s hair and Janus wrapped his arms around Logan’s back and brought him closer.

That night, the air around both would glimmer gold. The mindscape would be full of shy glances and hidden smiles and muffled giggles. It would be saturated with joy as the very atmosphere seemed to breath and settle for the first time in a while. It would be filled with the smiles that Virgil and Remus sent each other and the kisses they shared, as they cuddled close together. And with the quiet murmured promises they spoke to each other, swearing to never leave them and to love them for all their life and whatever was beyond it. It would be filled with the pride and happiness Roman felt for his friends, and his hope for their futures. It would be filled with the joy of Patton as he silently cheered for them. It would be filled with pure, undiluted hope, and pure unfiltered love. It would be filled with the dreams of Logan and Janus, tinged in soft colors and glowing stars, as bright as the blossoming feelings and strong as the faith they had in the other that they could rely on them to always be there. It would be filled with every good thought there was in the world, as the sun set and rose again, the harbinger of new, happy times, filled to the brim with laughter, joy, and love.

[verse50]

How can a gentlemen show attention to his lady on a regular basis without looking needy ?

What an absolutely beautiful question. Thank you for sending it in. 

First, let’s address the “needy” part. Today it’s very cool to shame people for being needy and the definition can vary from person to person. I think there are two ways to approach it.

Healthy needy. Humans are social animals. We are biologically wired to need physical touch, communication, and facial expressions to navigate our relationships and build connection. This is how we create a functioning society. We use our bodies to connect. We talk, look, touch, and feel the world around us. Personally, we need clear communication, respect, boundaries (social and intimate), kindness, affection, compassion, honesty, and morals to build good relationships. Never allow someone to accuse you of being “needy” when you want any of those things. It’s ok to ask your partner to speak in a lower tone of voice so you don’t get scared. It’s ok to text “I really miss your arms around me, can’t wait to see you.” It’s ok to stop a sexual encounter because any or all of the participants feel uncomfortable. A healthy needy person wants to connect with someone on a deeper level and respect the feelings that both of them have.

Unhealthy needy. This comes from fear and insecurity. I also believe it is one of the main triggers for domestic violence. Here, someone is mistrustful/angry/shamed inside and projects this to their relationship, trying to fix everything the wrong way. They get controlling. “Give me your phone. Where were you? I texted and you didn’t text back right away. Where did you get that jacket? You weren’t wearing it when you left the house.” They stalk, sulk, and create terror. It starts slow but builds up. Conversely, this needy can also show up as extreme anxiety and the inability to trust in the reality of a good relationship. After a time the mistrust erodes the good. This person is an empty well of need. No matter what you do, it is not good enough.

So, we want our need to create connection, not separation. Healthy need allows the self to be vulnerable and reach out for that connection in meaningful ways.

Daily routine. A couple is going to have some sort of routine with work, kids, school, hobbies, etc. Your day should be built so the relationship is noticed and supported within the routine. This means you become teammates and try to relieve the stress of life. Do you work opposite shifts? Come home at 2 and she comes home at 5? Have agreements on division of labor. Pull your weight. You might take care of all house stuff and she is the car person. Think about what would make her/your life easier. You might get up early and clean the snow off her car while she takes a shower. You can take the kids to the park while she studies for the exam. Ask her “what can I do to help you” then listen to the answer. Notice her achievements. Praise her for things that have nothing to do with her body. 

Affection. All women crave touch from a partner they love and trust. Incorporate touch into every aspect of your life. Walk together and hold her hand. Skin on skin in bed. Touch her arm during conversation. Hold her face when you kiss her. Brush her hair. Massage her feet/hands/neck. Arm around her waist and tuck her hand into your elbow. Wrap her up in a towel out of the shower. Snuggles on the couch. These touches are the stars that make up the galaxy of deeper sexual touch. 

Words. Some guys are not big talkers, I get that. You can talk in voice or writing. I’ve even heard of guys who have a tough time saying “I love you” coming up with a code that means that, e.g. three hand squeezes means “I love you.” Any way you do it, she wants to hear you. “I was thinking about you this morning. That shirt looked sexy on you. I heard you talking to my Dad, I know he is difficult but you were so kind to him. You are my best friend. I love kissing you. Can’t wait for our weekend together. I got hard just thinking about those beautiful eyes looking at me. I need to feel your hands on me.” If it makes you feel good to think it, it will make her feel good to hear it.

Responsibility. Women these days are busy. We have families, careers, are caregivers for elderly parents, have school schedules, hobbies, and fitness routines. The best thing you can do is not mess up the good she is trying to do in her life. Take care of your shit. Don’t spend $3000 at the strip club when she is scraping pennies together for a new car. Don’t burn the house down trying to be an unlicensed electrician. Don’t sign the kids up for classes without a conversation about who is going to transport them for it. Don’t drink and drive. Be a good person. Find ways to elevate your character and it will automatically add to her life.

Notice. She has a body. mind, goals, dreams and ideas. You might not know all of these very well. Notice what she reveals and ask questions to learn more. You don’t need to control or give advice unless she wants it. Just support. Again, ask “how can I help you with this” and listen. She has a life attached to you and parts that are hers alone. Even if she doesn’t need help, celebrate her uniqueness and efforts. Value who she is as a person, not just her relationship to you.

Rituals. This is the bread and butter for D/s. Check-ins, greetings, honorifics, rules. In general, think of ways you can build a structure with her. Is there a Friday night movie? Do you spend lunch break together once a week? Do you write a love note and leave it on her steering wheel? Always get her an orange when you go to Walmart? The smallest thing done on a consistent basis means the world to her.

I hope this is a good starting point. I’m sure the fans will have some great ideas as well. Do think about checking out my Patreon and Instagram. Couples love reading my stories together before bed.

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze Pt. 13/25

Previous ___________________

Cidaris was a loud and bustling city. The sky was hazy and at night it glowed from all the lights of the city down below. All in all it was everything that Istredd hated. He grimaced as he sidestepped a splatter of vomit that was streaked across the pavement. The remnants of some rowdy night out the evening before. He was starting to wonder why he’d even decided to make the trip. It would only end badly.

With Yenna, it always did.

There was too much bitterness and betrayal in their history.

And yet. He never stopped loving her.

Yenna did seem to have that effect on all her lovers. It was as if she cast a spell on them and wove herself into the very fabric of their soul. It had been over a decade since he’d dated Yennefer and to this day he still felt a tug in his heart when he saw her. He’d known her since they were both children, before the operation to straighten her spine, back when no one else would even look at her. She’d changed a lot over the years. The operation had given her more opportunities in their fucked up and cruel world. Suddenly everyone else could see the beauty that he’d always seen in her and over the years she’d almost begun to resent that.

She had never been enough to them before and now they fell at her feet.

Istredd knew they were all fools.

And he was the biggest fool of them all. He’d pushed her away.

But he still loved her.

Her extraordinary violet eyes haunted his dreams.

Her eyes were a constant, unchanging thing in the whirlwind that was the life of Yennefer Vengerberg. Many people thought that she wore contacts to achieve the startling colour but he knew better. The unusual colouring was the result of a genetic mutation, one that made her particularly sensitive to bright light and she often got headaches as a result. She was supposed to wear sunglasses outside to protect her eyes but her vanity prevented her. Her eyes were the one thing that had always been called beautiful by those who wanted to tear her down.

He understood why she wouldn’t want to hide that.

He double checked the address in his phone and looked up at the building he’d stopped in front of. He chuckled softly. It was an incredibly stereotypical artsy type building. The dusty brown bricks looked on the verge of falling apart and the door was reminiscent of an old barn. It was probably some converted loft. The name of the gallery was painted haphazardly on a blackboard that was pinned above the door. He was surprised that Yenna hadn’t gone for a more modern look, the types of buildings that were a piece of art in their own right, architectural masterpieces that drew the eyes of everyone that walked past. In contrast this building blended into the rows of old shops like there was some kind of illusion spell cast over the old bricks.

On second thoughts that was very much like Yenna.

He took a deep breath and then pushed the door open. Inside the old, almost derelict, exterior was an entirely different world. Yenna must have hired some kind of sorcerer to do the interior design. It seemed as if the room was about twice the size as he should have been. The room was bright white and sterile, the floors were almost glittering from the lights that were scattered evenly across the room. Yennefer was sitting at the far end of the room, engaged in conversation with one of her patrons, a petite artist in a button up and high-waisted jeans, their hair was a vibrant turquoise and coifed messily on top of their head.

Yenna looked up when she heard him enter and smiled brighter than the sun.

“Is! You made it.” She patted her friend on the shoulder and glided across the room. “I wasn’t sure whether you would come.”

“For you, Yenna, always.” He said sincerely and she scoffed.

“Now now. Don’t get sentimental on me now.” She chided as she linked her arm with his. “Come on. We can talk in the back room.”

“The gallery is beautiful.” He hummed, awkwardly trying to make small talk with his ex. “You’ve done well, Yenna.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She smirked as they entered a smaller room at the back of the gallery.

This room was cosier than the gallery floor. There was a large sofa, that took up most of the space, which was covered in soft teal and gold blankets and an array of cushions. Beside the sofa was a small fridge and table with a kettle and microwave balanced on the top. It wasn’t the most functional of rooms but it was warm and lit with a string of fairy lights that were hung across the ceiling.

“I should have visited sooner.” He said, his voice full of regret.

“Yes.” She cast him a disparaging look. “You should have.”

“I was so busy at work and finishing my doctorate. Years just faded away into nothing. I’m sorry.” It was a weak excuse but it was the truth. He was in the final stage on submitting his final thesis that would grant him his PhD and he would, at last, be a Doctor of History and Archaeology, a dream he’d had since childhood.

After that he was considering leaving Dol Blathanna behind. He loved teaching and the age group that he taught were just beginning to understand the potential of history and how the study of the often misunderstood subject could help them to better understand how society had developed and predict the patterns of the future but he was starting to grow tired of the same routine year in year out. As teachers their hands were tied behind their backs and they were forced to stick to some Government syllabus filled with eras of history that really didn’t interest him. It was all modern history, events that had happened over the last few decades but his passion lay with ancient history, the long forgotten secrets that were found in dusty temple ruins or trapped under layers of ash and dirt. There was evidence to suggest that their earliest ancestors lived in a society where, what they would call, magic existed, runes carved into the altars, daggers, staffs.

It was fascinating and he was determined to unearth more of their secrets. He was unsure whether the magic was real or more of a belief system, similar to their current religions but he wanted to know. He needed to know.

Yenna’s hand on his arm pulled him back into the room and he looked into her violet eyes, shining with hope with a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Why now?” He asked.

He’d been surprised when she’d texted him earlier in the week asking for him to visit the city that she now called home. They’d been messaging back and forth since she’d visited the school back in October, trying to rekindle their friendship. It had been strange at first. Even when she’d been teaching at the school, they hadn’t really associated one on one. Triss was often right there by her side and they’d fallen out of touch after she’d moved to Cidaris.

And then out of the blue she’d decided to give him her number and now they were texting on almost a daily basis, as if the last decade hadn’t happened at all.

“Nostalgia.” She said with a shrug as she fell ceremoniously onto the sofa. “Regret, maybe?”

He frowned. “Regret?”

“All those moments we missed because I couldn’t forgive you.” She shrugged and threw a pillow at him. “Oh for Lilit’s sake. Sit down.”

He perched on the edge of the sofa and she dumped her feet on his lap. “I didn’t deserve forgiveness.”

She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. Her violet eyes almost glowing in the dimly lit room. He wondered, not for the first time, whether she had fae blood running through her veins. “No, but was that really worth losing decades of friendship over?”

He furrowed his brow but she didn’t let him answer.

“I’m not saying I’ve forgiven you though.” She watched his reaction carefully. “Just that maybe it’s time to move on.”

“Like you did with Geralt?” He whispered, his words cutting through the air like a knife and he knew instantly he’d made a mistake. She recoiled from him and shifted as far from him as was possible in the tiny room, but he couldn’t take the words back now so he continued. “I never stopped loving you and you knew that.”

“Is.” She sighed.

“You just flitted around in front of me with him and I just had to watch as he broke your heart over and over again!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice but they’d never managed to get the closure of their relationship and this was a discussion they’d been putting off for years.

“And how was that any worse than you breaking my heart?” Yennefer challenged. “Almost destroying my career, my livelihood. Years of teaching in that pathetic school because Aedirn tarnished my name and reputation. It took years for me to rebuild that! You don’t get to be angry about Geralt because of your petty jealousy.”

He closed his eyes and sighed before reaching out and taking her hand gently in his. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have invited you here.”

His heart clenched in his chest. “Yenna.”

“I should have known but the universe fucking hates me.” She turned away from him but she didn’t make any attempt to take her hand back. “You’re the only one that ever saw me, Is. The rest of them never knew what I was like before. How difficult it was to wake up every single day, knowing the looks I’d get. The pity, the scorn, the hatred, but you knew me and you still wanted to be my friend, more than that even.”

“I still want that.” He answered quietly. “I’ve always wanted that but it’s been almost twelve years, Yenna.”

“So why now?” She repeated his earlier question. He nodded and she sighed. “The truth?”

“The truth tends to help.”

“The truth is shit.” She spat out bitterly.

He squeezed her hand and pulled her towards him so she could tucked herself into his side, just like so many years ago.

“I don’t know what it is, was, about Geralt. It was like an addiction. No matter how many fights we had or how many times we tore each other apart, we always ended up back at the beginning again.” She said softly and he swallowed down his jealousy.

He’d seen that happen many times since they’d broken up, it was part of the reason he felt so much hatred towards the man. He wanted to be the one that Yenna couldn’t stay away from despite of their breakup.

“And when we broke up a couple of years ago. We said it was final, I said it was final. I was so tired of the fighting all the time. I was done. I wanted out. The look on his face when I… when I broke his heart. It was as if I’d shattered him but I walked away.” She laughed bitterly. “It didn’t stop that part of me from believing that it was just another bump in the road.”

“And now?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his touch.

“I’ve had lovers since Geralt.” She sighed sadly. “One night stands, a few short term relationships.”

“Chireadan?”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“He’s been pining over you ever since.”

“Yes well. He was a sweet thing.” She smirked. “It was never going to last but I digress. Did you know Geralt hasn’t dated properly since we last broke up?”

Istredd shook his head. “The amount everyone fawns over him. I assumed he would have his pick of lovers.”

“And he never looked at any of them, not really.”

Istredd felt as if he could hear the penny drop.

“Until now.”

“I don’t even know what Geralt sees in him.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. “He’s so annoying!”

“Him?” Istredd raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t known Yennefer’s ex was flexible in his sexuality.

Yenna laughed. “You don’t know? I thought the rumour mill at Dol Blathanna would have been all over this.”

Istredd shook his head. “The only gossip about Geralt is between Mr Pankratz and Triss.”

Yennefer hissed under her breath. “I knew Geralt was just her type!” She scowled and then spoke louder. “But if you don’t know then I won’t spoil the surprise. Plus the idiots don’t seem to even realise they’re dating. They insist it’s just friendship.”

He was curious but knew Yenna enough to know that if she wanted to keep secrets then there was nothing he could say to stop her. He had a feeling that he knew who she was talking about though. If she thought the teachers at the school would know about Geralt’s secret affair then that meant it was likely one of them, and the only real candidate that fit Yenna’s description was Jaskier.

“So Geralt’s moved on, and now I’m here.” Istredd surmised.

“Well it sounds terrible when you put it like that.”

“I’m not going to be your second choice, Yenna. Don’t ask that of me.” He begged.

She pulled away from his chest so she could look at his face, and his resolve almost crumbled on the spot.

Loving Yennefer Vengerberg was such sweet torture.

“How about a friend?” She asked and he nodded, that much he could do.

____________________________________

His resolve hadn’t lasted very long.

They’d gone out for a late lunch shortly after their conversation in the backroom of Yennefer’s gallery. He’d caught her up with all the non-Geralt related gossip from the staffroom, rumours running rife about the headmaster’s conduct at work. He’d always been on the creepy side but the women on the staff had finally begun to talk about their experiences with the headmaster after Miss Findabair had flown into the staffroom one day complaining about Stregobor making a move on her. Triss had piped up with a similar experience of her own and it had turned into a much larger and longer discussion.

Yenna had scoffed and noted that she would have had a few of her own stories to add.

The whole topic had split men in the staffroom into two camps. There were some shits, Valdo Marx and Sorel Degerlund being two of the loudest voices, that fully supported Stregobor, claiming his behaviour was just light hearted teasing and there was nothing wrong with that. Triss and Tissaia had had to hold Jaskier back from tearing Valdo apart after that one. It had been a tense day in the staffroom but they now had a plan to try and expose the headmaster’s ill behaviour once and for all.

Yenna listened throughout his story, her eyes burning like fire, gripping her wine glass so hard that he thought it might shatter in her hands. By the time he’d finished she’d pulled out her phone to text Triss, Stregobor was going down and Yennefer was going to help in any way she could. Not that he expected any less. Her feelings may be well-guarded but Yennefer would always help when it was in her power to do so.

After that they’d moved to lighter topics. He discussed his thesis in great depth and, although she clearly found the subject matter a little dull, she listened and even managed to make some well timed jokes. In turn she told him all about her growing art gallery. It was still a fairly new enterprise for her, funded by the success of her art critic career. She was still in high demand when it came to her vlog and she had been known to make or break careers of young artists. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of Yennefer Vengerberg. She told him that she’d been invited to Beauclair in two weeks time for a week long art festival and asked him to join her over the weekend if he wasn’t too bogged down with work. It would be tough to make it. They were half way through the year now, the second half of spring term would be starting on Monday, and his tutor group would be starting to prepare for their mock exams and the province of Toussaint was not an easy journey from his house in Gulet.

Still, when she’d looked up at him with those magical eyes, dark raven hair falling softly in front of her face, he’d been helpless to argue. He’d almost booked train tickets to Beauclair on the spot.

There’d been a tension in the air between them that had been growing throughout lunch. Despite agreeing to remain as friends it had been all too easy to slip into an easy flirtatious repartee now that there wasn’t a third party in the conversation. It had been too easy to forget the years they’d spent apart and they fell into their old routine, artfully avoiding topics like Geralt or Aedirn, and the night had ended, rather spectacularly, in the bedroom.

No. His resolve hadn’t lasted very long at all, he thought to himself as her hands threaded into his hair and he stared up at the ceiling.

“So…” He broke the silence with some hesitation.

“You’re over thinking this, Is.” Yennefer said stoically and rolled off the bed to gather her clothes. His eyes followed her across the room, lingering on the jagged scar that cut down the length of her spine. “We’re both adults, this doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

He nodded. “And if I do?”

She glanced over a shoulder back at him with a disbelieving smile. “Then we have a lot more to talk through.” She was right of course. “You said it yourself. You don’t want to be second choice.” She pulled on her dress with an enviable grace. “And we’re both different people than we were when we were teenagers.”

“I can’t move to be with you.” He added.

Back when they had been teenagers he had been willing to give up everything to follow Yenna wherever her career took her, before he’d accidentally fucked the entire relationship up with his foolish naivety. She’d managed to convince him that he could continue his studies and research anywhere and he’d believed her but now he had his kids to think of and after that he was going to apply to teach at Oxenfurt.

It was an ambitious dream but it was his.

She frowned and finished getting dressed swiftly. “Are you staying the night here or did you have other accommodation?” She asked sharply.

“Can I stay?” He asked softly. “Or would you prefer me to find hotel?”

She refused to meet his eyes as she answered. “Do what you want, Istredd. Melitele knows you always do.”

He laughed at that. “I do what I want?” He scoffed.

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going for a shower. Stay or leave. I don’t care.”

She did care.

He knew that. The sharp remarks and hard mask that she hid behind were all signs that she cared. It was easy to rise to her baited taunts but underneath it all he knew it was because she cared.

He sighed. Before she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable with him. He’d lost that privilege along with her trust. Yenna was right. They would have a lot to talk about before they could even consider the idea of being anything more than friends. He just needed to work out whether it was all worth the effort. He closed his eyes and lay back onto the bed.

Who was he kidding?

Yenna would always be worth the effort. 

____

Next

[makeste]

what we could have been

this is a post about the similarities between these old farts

and these lil bubbas

but more importantly, it’s a post about the differences.

so! the manga has recently entered the Internships 2 arc, also known as the Child Soldiers/Todoroki Drama 2.5 arc! so far it is very exciting, and I can’t wait to see how Deku and co. will somehow level up by a factor of 11 just in time to defeat Tomura and his new new upgrade. I assume that this will happen though, since the alternative is... [checks] everyone dies a horrible death. well shit.

anyway, we’ve already had like 12 arcs of All Might being a mentor, but this arc features the first time Endeavor has tried his hand at it! this is of course a universally beloved decision by Horikoshi which everyone in the fandom is very happy about! but I actually do like it, because the Endeavor redemption arc is complicated as fuck and endlessly fascinating to me, and because, truth be told, there is something that even a Certified Son Of A Bitch can still teach these young whippersnappers. even if Endeavor is 99.9% a dick, that 0.01% can still impart something of value. but anyways that’s not what I came here to talk about so let’s move on.

what I want to discuss is the fact that Izuku and Katsuki share very obvious similarities with All Might and Endeavor, and there are very obvious parallels between their respective arcs. Izuku is basically All Might 2.0, whereas Endeavor is presented as a version of what Katsuki could have been. but they are not the same people, either of them, and their paths have started to diverge in ways that are very much for the better. and the reasons for that can all be traced to one simple action, which in turn stemmed from one simple, honest impulse. and I have approximately 10,000 thoughts about it, so here goes.

first let’s briefly touch on those similarities. as far as Izuku and All Might go, their backstories very closely resemble one another. they both started out as quirkless kids who nonetheless held a stubborn idealism and were driven to help others. they’re both incredibly determined and remarkably self-sacrificing. both of them spent the first part of their lives overlooked, undervalued, and underestimated, and they both understand the combination of validation and gut-churning pressure that comes with being chosen as the successor to a great power and a heavy burden. the similarities between them are a large part of why All Might chose Izuku as his successor, despite there being other options on the table. All Might sees himself in Izuku, and that’s part of the reason why they share such a strong bond.

now let’s talk about Endeavor and Katsuki, who share absolutely no bond at all (for now, anyway), but nonetheless hold just as much common ground as their counterparts. they are both fiercely determined and have made it their goal to reach the top. they’re also both foul-tempered with notoriously unfriendly attitudes. and last but not least, they’re both loners who have a tendency to push others away.

one thing that’s interesting is that both Katsuki and Endeavor formerly held strong beliefs about quirks being inextricably tied to strength. Katsuki shunned and scorned Izuku for years because he lacked a quirk. meanwhile Endeavor wrote off 3/4 of his own children because their quirks didn’t develop the way he wanted them to. and it’s only recently that each of them has come to see the error of their ways, which in Endeavor’s case is quite unfortunate, because he’s already well into his forties and has only just now started to con on to the fact that he’s an asshole. whereas Katsuki started this process a whole lot earlier, and as a result is a lot better poised to bounce back from his mistakes and make redemption his bitch.

so segueing now into the “differences” part of this comparative essay, that is Key Difference # 1 for you: Katsuki managed to not waste the next 30 years of his life focusing only on Achieving Strength at the cost of destroying every other positive thing in his life. and while I think there is one reason in particular for this, which I’ll get to shortly, I’ll also go ahead and give Katsuki some of the credit here, because what he did is hard. it’s hard to realize that you have had the wrong way of thinking for your entire life, and to take the steps to get it straightened out. many people are not that open to change. rather than admitting their mistakes, they double down on them and stubbornly defend them. but Katsuki was willing to question everything he’d ever known, and look at it with an open mind, and realize that he was heading down a wrong path. and then he was able to course-correct.

and that takes strength. not the kind of strength he’s so preoccupied with, but an inner strength that he might not have even realized that he has. in this respect he is much stronger than Endeavor, who’s had much more difficulty doing his own course-correcting, although he too is finally starting to figure his shit out (too late to salvage some things, but “better late than never” is a term that still applies here regardless). in my opinion, Katsuki’s willingness to accept his own faults, and to try to change them, is one of the most unexpected and remarkable things about his character, because you wouldn’t necessarily see that coming based on his attitude at the start of the series. anyways, I really like it.

but I did say some of the credit, as opposed to all of it. and the reason for that is because in my opinion, it’s actually Izuku who deserves most of it. but before I explain, let me first backtrack and talk about another aspect of All Might’s character, one he does not share with Izuku.

All Might, like Katsuki and Endeavor, is actually a loner as well. we tend to not notice as much, because he doesn’t really seem to fit the stereotypical profile of a loner-type character; he has a very close bond with Izuku, and he speaks with an earnest and straightforward candor about emotions and subjects that most people wouldn’t be able to discuss with the same sincerity. but it’s true nonetheless. even putting aside this moment in chapter 166 where he outright admits it, there are numerous other little details in the series that show this. he has no family that we know of. only one close friend (and a non-hero at that). at the start of the manga, he was estranged from both his mentor (referring here to Gran, not Nana) and his sidekick. he’s close-lipped about a lot of things, including things he honestly should have been upfront with Izuku about much sooner. and he hides his true self from the world in an effort to preserve that unwaveringly steady image that people have put their trust in.

in the very first chapter of BnHA, All Might makes a speech to Izuku about the reason why he smiles: “to stave off the overwhelming pressure and fear I feel.” All Might was the Symbol of Peace, the pillar that society relied on -- but he was a lone pillar. he kept to himself, and made the choice to bear that weight alone. and this had consequences. I’m speaking not only of the chaos after his fall, but of other, subtler impacts as well.

so now, let’s talk about Izuku.

let’s start with Key Difference # 2: Izuku is not a loner. yes, at one point he was alone -- not by choice -- but that isn’t a defining trait of his character. Izuku reaches out. he reaches out to everyone. he makes friends easily. he’s open with his feelings in a way that All Might is not (and which All Might in fact often scolds him for).

boy just puts it out there. he’s not ashamed. but anyways, it’s actually the part about him reaching out to others that I want to talk about. I’ve said in past essays that Izuku has an instinct to save others which surpasses even All Might’s. when he sees someone in pain, his instinct is to reach out. he will do this every time. regardless of whether it’s asked for, and regardless of how often his attempts may be shunned.

and this, right here, is the most important difference between Izuku (and Katsuki), and All Might (and Endeavor). because you see, All Might, for all his strength and sacrifice, always stood alone.

he kept his burden to himself, and never looked back.

but Izuku did.

“I got my quirk from someone else.”

this was in spite of All Might, his hero, telling him in no uncertain terms to not share his secret with anyone else. and in spite of the fact that Katsuki hadn’t been anything close to a friend to him for many years. like, it’s actually wild to think about all of the reasons that Izuku had not to do this. but the fact of the matter is this: that where All Might never turned, never wavered, and never attempted to help anyone else cross that gap, when Izuku saw Katsuki in pain, he acted on the same instinct that has guided him his entire life: he reached.

and that...

...has made all the difference.

Izuku pulled Katsuki across the gap with him. he let him in. he did this with no expectation of reward, or even gratitude. quite the opposite; Katsuki had always rebuffed his attempts to help before, and even in this case, it initially appeared that he had misjudged again, and that he was just lucky that Katsuki didn’t press the matter. it was a move that defied not just common sense, but all of Izuku’s past experience; nothing about their past relationship ever hinted at a hope for common ground in the future. nothing, that is, except a shared dream.

but he reached out anyway. and because of that, Katsuki was eventually able to put two and two together. and when he did, he did something very unexpected: he reached back.

he asked Izuku for help. he did something that Endeavor never managed to do until after All Might had retired and he found himself, at long last, in the number one position, but adrift and without a driver’s manual.

it took a lifetime of failure and the loss of everything he’d been working toward for Endeavor to finally realize he was doing something wrong, and to ask for help. but this isn’t the case with Katsuki. partly because he was able to put his ego aside in this one crucial moment, but even more than that, it was simply because Izuku had never left a gap between them. Katsuki never had to work to build a bridge. Izuku was laying planks behind him every single step of the way. never expecting that Katsuki would actually follow them, but leaving them there for him regardless. leaving this path back open for them to reconcile, should Katsuki ever choose to finally meet him halfway.

and because of that faith, because of his open and giving nature, the end result is that he now has something that All Might never had: a partner. someone to help shoulder that weight. someone else who understands that burden. and someone who is now working together with Izuku with unexpected earnestness.

and so this is Key Difference # 3: whereas All Might and Endeavor were only ever at odds, two opposites on a polarized scale, Izuku and Katsuki are learning to work together. to learn from one another. to share what the other lacks, and to make each other stronger.

incidentally, just in case any part of this essay has come off as me being overly critical of All Might, or pinning the blame on him for the failures of the previous generation, let me assure you that I don’t fault him at all. All Might did what he thought was right, and managed to turn an impossible dream into a shining reality against all odds. the Symbol he became brought about peace for many years and inspired the next generation of heroes. he was not wrong in what he was trying to do; his only flaw was in being so determined to shield others that he ended up taking on too much by himself.

and I’ll say this for All Might too: in the end, he himself realized where he had gone wrong. there’s a reason why, particularly since his retirement, he’s started mentoring Katsuki in addition to Izuku. All Might knows better than anyone else the burden that sits on Izuku’s shoulders, and he knows just how hard it is to go that course alone. I already gave credit to the boys, but let’s go ahead and give All Might some credit as well, because he, too, is now course-correcting. he’s learning from his mistakes, and helping build a new generation that can succeed in building an even brighter future than the one he once sought.

as a certain melty-face scenery-chewing villain once said, “when people know that there will be an end, they entrust.” this series began with the passing of a legacy from one generation to the next. and now in this latest arc, we’re again seeing that theme of entrusting, of the old guard passing down the torch to the young guns. and shockingly, not just with All Might, but Endeavor as well. reluctant though he was at first, he, too, is now doing his best to help guide these kids down the right path. placing his faith in their strength.

I started off this essay by saying that All Might and Endeavor are who Izuku and Katsuki could have been. but now, to conclude things, I think it’s only fitting that I turn that on its head. All Might and Endeavor are not who Katsuki and Izuku could have been. Izuku and Katsuki are who All Might and Endeavor could have been. they are the ideal vision that never came to pass. the brand reimagined. the song remastered. Izuku and Katsuki will be able to reach heights that All Might and Endeavor never achieved, because they were able to shed loneliness and pride in favor of trust and a sincere willingness to learn.

so yeah.

 all hail the new kids.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

6. Passion Project

“What the hell am I reading?” The woman squealed in his ear, “And why is it ALWAYS something bizarre with you?”

“Did my favorite perennial flower get my emails?”

“Simon… you do know that I have both college AND a job to do, right? That not all of us achieve our dreams the first try?”

“I pay you good money for the work that I ask you to do!” Simon complained. “Unlike your day job that both pays you less than your male counterparts and less than you deserve in general.”

“Yeah, well… I live in the real world. Not like there’s some magical train to take me away from society and all it's problems. But, seriously… researching is one thing, but this feels oddly like stalking. First of all… I had to do some very illegal things to get this information - which, yes, I went ahead and did it, because by the time I got to that point I was feeling a little bit insulted by the thought of failing. Secondly… who IS this woman, Simon? How do you even know about her and what are you going to do with this information?”

“I met her in my everyday life and was interested in her, but found a simple background check difficult. I was people watching for a new story, but it’s become more like a passion project, now. But, I feel like you’ve got a lot to tell me about her!” He was teeming with excitement.

“I… found out things, things that I never would have wanted to ever know about anybody and am now honestly considering charging you for the therapy it’s gonna take me to get over this information… Where in your everyday life did you meet this person?”

“Why… what’s… what’s wrong with her?” Simon asked.

“A LOT. But… I don’t know… I guess she’s doing better, if you’re just seeing her out and about, but… I just…” Tulip yelped.

“Tools???” Simon called out.

Deep breathing. Then, she was back. “Sorry. Mikayla’s out, so I’m by myself and EVERYTHING is startling me. I’m gonna send you everything I found and my charges for this information. And Simon… please don’t ever send me anything like this again, and I mean it.”

“I only wanted to find out if she changed her name and why. How difficult could the information have been?”

“Most people don’t just change their names out of boredom, Simon. Also… it isn’t right to look into somebody this way. I’m only giving it to you because I don’t deserve to be the only person who has had to look at this.”

“That bad?” He heard sniffling. “Tools…”

“No, Simon! This is messed up! Don’t ask me for another favor again if you don’t know ANYTHING about the situation!”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” 

She let out a deep breath. “Is your mom going to the retreat or whatever this year?”

“Yeah. She’s super excited about it. She says that she hasn’t seen yours in too long. Is she going?”

“Yeah, she was able to scrape up this year to reserve her spot.”

“Mom’s already pulling out all of her Single Mom Squad shit.”

Tulip groaned. “I’m really glad that they had a support group and stuff, but honestly. Why did it become their entire personality for so long?”

“Because it was their little escape from having smartasses like us at home.” Tulip laughed and Simon reiterated, “Really sorry about whatever you read about Grace.”

“I… Is this somebody that you think that you could care about, Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Okay. Just… be careful. I don’t see how they’re even still standing, much less how they’re in a position to care for someone else. I don’t know if I’m more afraid that you might get hurt if you get attached or that she might, but… it just looks like it’d be super hard to build with this person. They’ve got… a lot of... history.”

“She’s tried to warn me of that and I ignored her and will most likely ignore you.”

“Well, I did my part, anyway.”

.

Her name was not Grace St. Catherine… Well, it was, because she had it legally changed four years ago. But it had been Grace Monroe when she was born… up until when she was 10.

She was kidnapped when she was 10. Apparently there was a ransom requested, and whenever it was set to happen, the kidnappers took the money and did not return the child. Nobody who knew her before saw her again for 8 years.

When she was 18, she was arrested for assault and when giving her name to arresting officers, said 148, but eventually Grace Monroe. From there, she was discovered to have been missing for 8 years and her parents were contacted.

The Monroes conducted every possible test available to check the well being of their now 18 year old daughter. She was treated for several illnesses, including STDs and a number of mental issues...

She was committed at age 18, and declared a ward of her parents, instead of convicted, and spent the next three years recovering. At age 21, she was allowed to be classified as an adult. She changed her name, and lived with her parents until 2 years ago...

When she began working at the bookstore...

Tulip had even been able to find court documents, police records, and psychiatric files. So… yeah. He owed her big time, even beyond payment for having read even a portion of this stuff. Some of it was simply things Grace had reported to her doctors. Some were things that she had not spoken of, but there was physical evidence enough to grant some ideas. 

Years of damage to her uterus… Bruises and scars on her back, knees, thighs, wrists… A symbol carved into the back of her neck… He clicked on the images given from medical reports and saw the same A that had been spray painted on targets’ doors. He now knew who these people were, and why they deserved whatever Grace and her friends were doing to them. He looked at the photos of the girl before her disappearance vs the teenager in the mugshot. That didn’t even look like HIS Grace. She was the same person. He saw familiar features - her perfect round nose and beautiful full lips, the shape of her face a little more shapely there - probably wasn’t eating as well… but… that was a stranger. Only her eyes looked the same. Passionate but filled with pain. Beautiful and wide enough to get lost in, but dark, cold, and freakishly mysterious. 

He quickly called her and she picked up, “Did I not just see you a few hours ago?” she teased.

“I was just thinking about you… hoping that you’re okay tonight. Are you okay?”

She laughed, “Are you?”

“I just… want you to know… whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you.”

She was quiet for a long time. He wondered what she was doing on the other end of the line. She was looking at a selection of masks and knee pads, but her mind was no longer on the outfit for her Date Night, but the man on the other side of this phone conversation.

“Thanks, Simon… Um… Are… you sick? Is something happening to you? This just really feels out of nowhere and quite frankly, I’m a little worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about! I’m fine. I just… really care about you, and had to tell you that.” 

Grace could’ve sworn that she saw a chorus of red flags being twirled around before her. Dancers, circling her and performing tricks with them. She was never one for rose colored glasses. She learned a long time ago that those weren’t for her… so these were red flags. She also knew that she often saw red flags where there were white ones. Because she didn’t believe in surrender, only blood for blood. She was angry in general, and usually seeing red. Simon’s red flags were probably no more red than any other poor guy that tried to simply make her smile over the past few years. But then he said,  “Grace, I lo…”

“Simon, I really can’t do this right now. I’ve got something I’m in the middle of. So, like… Just… I’ll talk to you another time.” She hung up and snatched a mask that looked like it was crying blood and a pair of purple knee pads. “Not L words, Simon. For fuck’s sake…”

.

Simon had learned so much, then she was just gone. She wasn’t at the bookstore in days and whenever he finally asked her coworker, they said that she had a no call, no show and they hadn’t heard from her since. She didn’t respond to any of his texts. She seemingly deactivated social media (or worse, blocked him), and she wasn’t even staying at home, because he drove by several times for two days, then literally camped outside for another two. If she was inside, she hadn’t answered, and he hoped that she wasn’t just ignoring him pining through the door. He hoped that she just wasn’t there to hear him beg her to please at least tell him what he did wrong.

He went into the flower shop and the guy that he had become super familiar with as “152” online, even though his nametag said “Heath,” asked him what he could help him with. Simon ordered a bouquet and wrote out a card for Grace, apologizing for whatever he did wrong and asking her to come back, He sighed and asked Heath, “Could you make sure that Grace gets this, please?”

“Grace?” the guy repeated, eyeing Simon suspiciously. “I don’t know any Grace, Mister.”

“148, maybe?” 

Now, the guy looked downright ready to fight. “I don’t know what you mean, but you’re making me uncomfortable, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave, now.” He even tried to refund him for the flowers.

“No, no… Please, just… tell her that I’ll be waiting, if she ever feels better…” He left and Heath followed him out of the door, watched him get into his car and drive off before he went back in to call Grace, panicked about that visit.

“Who the hell is this person and how does he know where I work?” Heath asked. 

“Let me guess, a little taller than me, skinny, blond with gray eyes and something on his head trying desperately to be a ponytail? That was Simon. I must’ve mentioned the flower shop, or something.” She knew that she never had, but to tell her friend that this person had potentially stalked her and learned about him in the process just seemed like it would cause more harm than taking the blame.

“You must’ve mentioned it? Grace. Either you mentioned it, or you didn’t, and YOU would know. It isn’t like you to be careless about our personal information!”

“I know, I know, but maybe I said that it was my favorite flower shop or something. Heath. You know that if you want, I can get you a job at basically anywhere else that I own.”

“I like flowers!”

“Then, I’ll buy another flower shop you can work at, if he made you feel threatened.” 

“Are you safe? He seems a little attached. He bought a really expensive bouquet and left a card. It’s sealed but I can read it to you.”

“No, I’ll stop by. I’ve got some job hunting to do, but…”

“Why don’t you just work somewhere that you’re familiar with, or somewhere that you own?”

“I don’t know. Because, I’m suddenly hyper aware of how messed up I am again, and I wanna feel like a normal person.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but normal people don’t get to just start over when life seems to be too much. We’ve gotta just continue to live it out, and change only ourselves, and maybe eventually our circumstances. Normal people would have called out of work (if they could even afford to) and came back, whether or not they were better and pushed through being miserable.”

“Are you suggesting that I return to the bookstore and ask for my job back?”

“Yeah. If it’s normal that you’re shooting for. But… I’ve got the feeling that you’re avoiding this creep.”

“I think things are moving way too fast. That’s terrifying.”

“Good news… that’s terrifying for normal people, too. Not everything that we do and feel is because of what the Apex did to us. If your manager likes you and values you, you can probably coax them into forgiving you for vanishing, with a good sob story.”

“Gonna go with dead homie,” she said. “Meds, etc. The whole works. If that doesn’t work, guess I’ll buy the bookstore. I really don’t feel like looking for another job, anyway… And I guess I can’t avoid him forever.”

.

She was back at work the next week. She noticed Simon sitting in the coffee shop whenever she came in. She skipped going for her old routine, to clock back in and get to work. She had to take down the Read Across America stuff and make sure to have all the Easter and Earth Day stuff situated… When was Easter this year? She checked her calendar as she grabbed her legal pad to start planning displays whenever she almost ran into Simon. He’d come over when he saw her return to the floor. She was startled. Then annoyed. “Simon. Please…”

“What did I do?”

“You’re… getting a little bit too… familiar. You didn’t do anything, I just don’t know how to handle having somebody else in my space this much. I just… need some space.”

He frowned and nodded his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Okay. You’re the boss.” She wanted to say something… explain why she was like this… why she could only trust her friends, who were more like her immediate family than her parents… even that she desperately wanted Simon to be in her space and to wait for her to be comfortable with having him there…

But, she couldn’t find any of those words. Even if she had, what if she were wrong? What if Simon catching feelings would be the worst thing to ever happen to her, or to HIM, for that matter. She watched him go, and hoped that after she had some time to chill out a little bit, she might be able to contact him again, and get another chance. So, she watched him leave the bookstore and get into his car. He peeled off, and she didn’t know if that meant he was angry or if there was a fluke with the car. She just hoped that he didn’t just show up at her friend’s job or anything else like that. Or something worse. The last thing he wanted while sad was to get on her friends’ bad side. The last thing she wanted was for him to learn that the hard way.

Simon overthrew every piece of furniture in his home. Samantha rushed into her room and hid, terrified of the noise. He cried, shook, paced…. How could he show her that he was on her side? Why did she want space?? Was she afraid of him??? DID SHE HATE HIM???? He flopped onto the floor, holding his head and shivering with tears, trying to catch his breath. 

He needed some place else to handle dealing with her, he realized as he glanced around his demolished home. A storage unit, maybe… He collected all of his stuff pertaining to her and put it all together. He stuffed it into one of his bags and put it into his trunk. He could clean up his house whenever he stored things away safely. He needed a big storage unit. He had a feeling that he was going to be collecting more while giving her some “space.”

This was how he might cope. He turned on the light in the new storage space and set down a few boxes. He hadn’t been back into the bookstore. There was no need. He wasn’t writing right now, anyway. He had more important things to do. He’d printed out  everything Tulip had researched for him and made plans to visit places he highlighted from all of the files. He got some photos professionally printed up - some poster size, some not as big, and some he simply just had various photo sizes. He just thought they would make nice decor for his new space. Grace had deactivated, but he still had just about every photo of her saved to his phone or computer, and they had taken a few as well…

He also… was starting to take them of her whenever he watched her… He just really missed her. It was only a couple of months in her presence, but that was longer than he had been interested in another person in a while, and he had never been this interested in anyone before. Any time he ever thought that he might be going too far, he reminded himself that she had both done and been through much worse than anything that he was up to at the moment, and that became his truth up until the very last time that he ever had to tell himself anything. 

That was May. By May… he didn’t think. It was simply part of his lifestyle. Following, watching, studying, photographing, sometimes recording. But, she still hadn’t reached out to him, and he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to reach out to her. He tried to test it, by leaving her a bouquet of those red poppies that he’d seen her and her friends put on their friend’s grave. He watched, recording her reaction whenever she got home and saw them on her doorstop. She looked around, startled, kneeled to check the card. “Missing you. - S” She looked… relieved. He wasn’t sure who she thought they were from, but she grabbed them, went inside, and moments later, came out with an overnight bag and her turtle. She didn’t come home for days.

Next, he texted and said, “Hey. Sent you flowers. My mom asked about you. Hope you’re okay.” He watched her check the text before she went into the train station, but she didn’t reply. So… she still wasn’t ready, but he was letting her know that he was still waiting. By that time, nothing felt unreasonable to him. He was simply waiting for her to realize that she’d had enough space. He was curious about where she went to when she’d leave for days. The next time he scared her into not staying home alone, he’d follow. It was all that he could do at the moment.

07. Things Went Wrong

[randomguywithwords]

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 19 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 19: Old Chains

AO3 Link

Previous Chapters: 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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The girl bowed and left the room in a hurry, nearly tripping over her feet as she did so. Geten watched her go, her lips pursed. Her behaviour reminded her of that messenger at her lodgings, but while she had smirked at the boy’s cowardice just a few days ago, she felt uneasiness coil around her stomach. 

Do they all look at me like that? How long has it been since I’ve been in the city? 

She rarely ever walked down a street, not having any need to with her cryokinesis. Transporting herself with her ice was much preferable to reducing herself by commuting alongside the other soldiers in the MLA. The few times she interacted with them...they always had the same look on their faces. 

She put those thoughts aside and returned to an even more unpleasant subject: the book in her hand that she had requested the girl bring to her. It was familiar to her like a mother to her infant. The same indented red cover with its engraving of the symbol of the MLA. The same title emblazoned with gold. 

Meta Liberation War. 

She knew the book back to front. If prompted by anyone, she could recite the pledge, the paragraphs or the sign off by Destro in a heartbeat. She had spent years memorising every key sentence, every declaration made by the founder of the Army she belonged to, and so on.

So why am I holding it in my hand?

Well, for one, she needed something to keep her distracted while she was stuck in the hospital ward, thanks to a certain fire-user and a dumb pact made just an hour or so ago. 

“Ok, five day hospitalisation, doc’s orders.” Dabi turned to leave the room. 

“No, I’m leaving tomorrow,” Geten shot back, crossing her arms. 

“Uh huh, because you’d be fully recovered, right?” 

She paused, searching for a retort. “You can’t make me stay here.”

Even to her, it sounded childish, and Dabi’s choked laughter told her he was thinking the same way. “Tell you what, what’s your favourite food?”

The question caught her off-guard. She blinked twice, wondering if that question came from him. “I don’t have one.”

“Bullshit. Everyone has one.”

“Unlike you, I’m not that much of an adolescent to show preferences for food. I eat whatever’s there.” 

“It’s something cold, isn’t it? Soba?” 

“How – wha –” She spluttered. “No, no it’s not.”

“You chill here until Friday, and I’ll get you soba.”

“Even if I did like it, I could just get it myself.” She was hoping her expression wasn’t betraying how much she liked the noodles. 

“Not in Deika City, obviously. You think this shithole has any good food?” 

“We can’t just leave –” Her exasperation was overpowered by his when he cut her off with, “Do you want the soba or not?”

A spasm of pain coursed through her ribs, causing her to wince. “Fine,” She muttered, and sat down on the bed. 

“See you Friday then. My god, you’re stubborn.” He left and shut the door. 

The memory, fresh in her mind, was oddly warming to think about, while the metal-engraved title of the book felt cold to the touch, pulling her back to the present. 

The second reason was repetition – too much of it, that is. She compared it to her mastery over her meta ability made it a part of her, that she barely gave a thought whenever she levitated ice. Likewise, she could recant any part of the book with no hesitance. But even though I speak the words out loud, how much thought have I given their meaning?

She flipped open the book. Destro’s words filled Geten’s head like a lullaby a parent might sing to their child, not that the young woman knew what that was like. 

“I am not in a prison. I am in solitude, and in this solitude have I found solace…” She read out loud to herself in the ward. It was habitual to do so, but as she kept reading, her voice trailed off as she studied it, and a growing void inside her gnawed at her heart. 

I dream of a society where the use of our meta abilities is uncontrolled, as the great power that granted the human race this blessing intended. It was, and is, and will always be, a gift. Yet it is also a responsibility to bear. We must show the world the truth the governments try to conceal. They pass human laws that goes against the natural law. I, and my army, tried to show them this truth, but it is with great regret and sorrow that I announce an obstacle in our path towards destiny. My incarceration. 

 …

Strength is survival. Strength is our meta abilities, and honing them to perfection, achieving what we called “apotheosis” in the ancient past. To become god-like. 

“And yet, you died, Destro,” Geten murmured. “And still we...we honour and revere you…” The void grew larger. 

The journey unto death is one I will undertake after I finish writing this, but know that death is not the end for us. While I concede death is a frightening concept, I encourage you to believe that it is an inspiration for others. To die in battle is honourable. I only wish I had done so, but what has happened is set in stone. My death is a protest to the laws that chain us, but it is also your empowerment, to do what I could not. 

“Death,” Geten whispered, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. She remembered both times she was one thread away from it: the barrel of Trumpet’s gun pointed at her, and the fists of Takame. In the first, she was not in combat. It would have been an assassination, would it not? And in the second…

Her chest hurt at the thought. She felt no honour, only emptiness and fear, knowing what the Liberation Army had done to her attacker’s family, and knowing her death was imminent. 

Is it possible that Destro had feared death as well? 

The reminder about Takame’s wife brought her to flip the pages to the section on the powerless, or, as Destro put it...

It is not some genetic disorder as the men in white coats would tell you. They are simply the unfortunate ones to not have received this gift. Pity them, for they, the outcasts, deserve your pity. 

“Mihara…” She looked just like her. If she was wandering around Deika City, Geten would have thought she was some ordinary soldier. An ordinary person, even. How was she an outcast? Why did the MLA start hunting down the quirkless? Out of pity? They deserved it?

She slammed the book shut as the image of her dead body appeared in her mind. She drew deep breaths to calm herself – had she been hyperventilating this entire time? Her fists were trembling, blood pounding in her head in anger of it all. 

The agony was a python writhing on her chest while old memories resurfaced from the aching in her brain. She remembered what Re-destro taught her, and how he did it. 

A growl rose in her throat. 

Kicked. Starved. Left alone to fend for herself, in the name of “liberation”. Everything that she did. Everything that was done to me, was in the name of liberation, but it shackled me more and more. 

“Gah!” She flung the book across the room and buried her head in her hands. 

She sat there upright on the hospital bed for some time, the silence screaming all the answers she did not want to hear, but had to, to her. 

“You don’t find anything wrong with that?” Dabi had said on the plane. She remembered his countenance, a mixture of irritation and pity, whenever she spoke about the MLA. She had chalked it up to the arrogance of the victorious, or just a dislike of her, which was mutual then, so it never bothered her to think further. The pieces started to click together. 

“You dropped this.” A dry voice made her look up, and a paleness spread across her face like permafrost. 

Tomura Shigaraki stood at her doorway, dressed in a crimson jacket whose sleeves ran down his arms and black undershirt, whilst wearing jeans. He looked like any other ordinary person, if not for the severed hand on his face. In his hand was the book. 

Instantly, thoughts of a legless Re-destro, or the piles of dust that once were Shigaraki’s opponents flooded her mind. She gripped the bedsheets tightly. 

“Why are you here? And...I don’t need that.” Geten averted her eyes.

Shigaraki tossed it to the side and shut the door behind her. “I’m not here to kill you or anything, don’t shit yourself. I came here to see how you were doing. I gotta say, you look like you got broken up with.”

His words didn’t reassure her in the least, especially not the way he said ‘kill you’, but his posture didn’t indicate any animosity, so Geten took his word for it. Clearing her throat and steadying herself as best as she could, she responded, “I’m fine.”

“What’s with the book throw? Test tomorrow?” 

“No,” She replied with an edge to her voice. 

“You pissed?”

She exhaled. “Yes,” She said, mustering all the civility and politeness she had left. 

“How nice,” He said, the concern in his tone matching that of his expression. “Anyway, you’re free to do what you want now. I got nothing for Violet Regiment. You’re excused from the council meetings till you’re discharged, whenever the hell that is.”

She blinked. “That’s all?”

Shigaraki cocked his head. “What, you were expecting a celebration of your win?”

“No...never mind. Th – thank you, Commander.” She bowed her head. 

She heard the door slam and looked back up. She let loose a shuddering breath of relief from the sole fact that she was alive and not missing a limb, or an entire torso. He had looked more disinterested, as if she was an ant on his finger, but she would gladly accept that over a smiling Shigaraki. 

Did Dabi actually talk to him? She recalled the promise he had made on the motorbike ride.  

Maybe the consequences were waiting for her once her hospitalization was over, which made goosebumps appear on her skin. She held the sheets closer to her. Still, Shigaraki didn’t seem like the type to grant her catharsis before unleashing whatever hell he wanted upon her. If he was going to punish her, he would have done so just now. 

Geten sighed and sunk back underneath the covers. Or maybe I’m just lying to myself...

It was only mid-afternoon, judging from the sky outside, yet fatigue, both physical and mental, weighed her limbs down as if she had been training the whole day. The bed suddenly felt like the softest, most comforting thing in the world. Unable to fight against her body, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, her thoughts too cluttered to sift through. A few names and words stood out, one of which was, Find Dabi. 

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Had some time to finish this up. Hope you liked it.