#they try to leave--and try to Not Look to abandon the spectacle as spectacle based critique says is the main concept of the movie

[merbear25]

Experimental w/ Law (NSFW)

MDNI!!! +18

CW: smut, although based on a yandere quiz I took, it isn't yandere themed, bondage, vaginal penetration, creampie, afab!reader, light choking and slapping, slight female degration, rough sex, takes place in an abandoned asylum so there's mention of some equipment being used on reader.

A/n: I was inspired by my results from this quiz on Quotev. Wanted to make something that was more NSFW (of course changing other parts a little bit, too) Idc if the quiz is centered around Halloween and I'm writing this in January! It's always Halloween in my heart <3

Inspo: Your One Piece Yandere Horror Story

Despite having been on your fair share of adventures with the Heart Pirates, you still had yet to be paired up with Law. It was purely by chance that this was your first time one-on-one with him on a mission. You'd already shared pleasant conversations and been able to get to know each other on board the ship. You both seemed to like the other's company.

Having spotted the somewhat small egnimatic island in the distance, Law's curiosity was peaked and interested to thoroughly explore it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but nonetheless, you'd been slipt up into groups to cover more ground.

Setting his sights on a white building peeking over the treetops, Law suggested the two of you search around its grounds. You saw no reason to protest, so you gladly journeyed along by his side.

When you both reached the building, its decrepit state was more than apparent. You hesitated to follow Law up the short flight of stairs to the main entrance. Looking back at you, he uttered, "Come on." Briefly maintaining eye contact, he broke it and continued through the rickety doors.

A sudden chill krept up your spine and made you hurry towards him.

"Didn't take you for such a scaredy cat," Law smirked over his shoulder.

Your cheeks grew rosey from slight embarrasement. Puffing out your chest a little, you strutted next to his side, "Being cautious is not the same as being scared."

His huff was the closest thing to a laugh you were going to get out of him.

Even though you were both checking the downstairs thoroughly, there didn't seem to be anything worth taking. You came across a few empty rooms with suspicious scratches on the walls that peaked your interest, though. Then, you both stumbled into what appeared to be an office. Thumbing through the files, you turned to Law and informed him of your suspicions, "These files are all of patients." He merely raised an eyebrow at your discovery. "They state each one's reason for being admitted." Looking down at the files you'd grabbed, you felt a twinge of sorrow.

"There's no use getting upset over what happened here," he went back towards the door, "It's all in the past and can't cause anyone any more harm."

"Somehow the room feels colder with you in it," You meekly responded.

Shrugging your comment off, he continued upstairs.

Not far from the railing a rusted sign down the hall caught both of your attention. Without having to bring it up, you simultaneously walked in its direction to check it out.

Forcing the door open, firstly your gaze settled on a dusty metal restraint table, then darted to the needles, pliers, and scalpels surrounding it, having once taunted those who were unfortunate enough to be made a spectacle of.

"This is more like it," he nonchalantly threw out and strolled past the equipment.

Slightly taken aback by that, you tried to regain your composure to avoid any more accusations of being a 'scardey cat'.

He touched the leather cuffs at the sides and your eyes met for a moment before averting his eyes back down to the cuffs. "Get on," coolly instructing you.

Leaving any fear you may have had at the door, you stepped forward trying to redeem yourself and reclaim your bravery. Gingerly easing yourself onto the contraption, your nerves started getting the better of you, shown by the tremors in your limbs.

The sight of your brave face being accompanied by shaking arms and legs was hard for him not to faintly chuckle at - he saw the glare you shot at him as a small price to pay. "It's not going to break," he reassured you while grabbing the side of the table and rocking it back and forth, "See? It's good quality. Not even that rusty."

Internally screaming and cursing this man to high heavens, you were far too stubborn to back out of this now. You laid down and before you could even finish asking 'now what?' he'd strapped your left arm down. "Don't move," he ordered. You watched him intently as he secured the rest of you and promptly locked the wheels in place. When he came up to the right side of you, he told you, "And don't worry. This'll be fun." Without any warning, he fastened your neck to the table.

Goose bumps were appearing from the cool metal prickling your skin and the rising and falling of your chest accompanied them. You barely had time to comprehend what'd just happened before he grabbed a scalpel and was admiring it. While he was tenderly pressing the blade against the tip of his index finger, you taunted him, "If you plan on using that on me, then I'd hope you have a tetanus shot to follow up with." A smirk reappeared on his stoic face and he bluntly asked, "Would you ever have sex in a place like this?"

Trying to convice yourself more than him at this point that you're brave, you huffed, "Sure. Why the hell not?" Your shrug went unnoticed. You decided to ask him the same.

Looking down at your form, a 'Might be fun' traveled past his lips. He hummed softly while tracing the curve of your hip and waist. You couldn't tell if your heart excelerated from the metallic touch or his. Which ever it was, his fingers found their way to your inner thigh. Gently squeezing the flesh that was so carelessly left exposed to the elements, his stare kept fixated on your expression. Trailing further up your leg, Law's fingers followed the lining of your panties. Your lovely cheeks were becoming more flushed and your delicate lips were quivering. With a bit more pressure, he ran his middle finger up and down your folds, which were still being concealed behind thin fabric. Finding your already swollen clit with ease, he ruthlessly toyed with it.

When the longing in your eyes became unmistakable, he eagerly yanked your panties down, swiftly pulling them down to your ankles. Wasting no time, he shoved his middle and ring fingers into you and after a couple of rough, fast paced pumps, his thumb persisted in tormenting your most sensitive spot.

Unable to freely squirm from the rush coarsing through you, you were reduced to whimpers and jerky thrusts in a desperate attempt at meeting his pace. You whined when you felt his hand pulling away from your needy pussy. A swift slap colided with your sweet spot and you drew in a sharp breath.

"Don't get ahead of yourself now." His other hand caressed your face. "I need you to understand who's in control here." Inching his face closer to yours, his focus shifted from your eyes to your lips. "Got it?" You nodded in agreement, but that wasn't enough for him. Your cheek received a firm slap and was hastily grabbed again, forcing your eyes to meet his. "Say 'Yes, sir.'"

You choked out his demand and were rewarded with Law's lips harshly meeting yours. His hand now gripped at your silky locks on the back of your head. As the kiss deepened, the other regained control over the lower half of your body.

Breaking away from your liplock, your breaths were harmonizing in desperate low moans. Your body still squirmed as if it was begging to be pounded mercilessly. Tightening his grip, his hand was now trapped between your clenched thighs, and he sighed in contempt, "Your cunt is throbbing." He tugged his belt loose but his hand hovered around his zipper. "Tell me how much you want it."

Lust overcame you, your chest felt hot, you couldn't deny him even if you tried, "Fuck," your hips bucked upwards, "I want you to fuck my cunt so badly. I need you to punish my throbbing pussy now," a sly smile appeared across your lips, "Please, sir?" You batted your doe eyes at him.

It seemed he couldn't get his pants off fast enough. Practically shredding the top half of his wardrobe off, he then swiftly climbed on top of you. Ripping your top and bra low enough, exposing your perky breasts and erect nipples, he just took a moment to admire their beauty before shoving his face in between their valley and softly twisting their peaks. Licking his way to the top of one, he sucked on it, fully allowing himself to bask in your beauty. He did so all while jostling your skirt up to your waist, leaving your most private areas completely bare.

You were just getting accostomed to his mouth when a sudden pain made you yelp. Law was holding your dainty nipple between his teeth and flicking the top bit with his tongue. Smirking up at you, he lunged himself forward, now towering over you. The tip of his cock twitched as it patiently waited to enter.

He leaned into a kiss and you hungrily plunged your tongue into his mouth, not even noticing a hand reaching over and behind your head. Your neck was forced back down, causing your breaths to be uneven. "This seems to have been loosened." Nipping at your nose he pulled away again, "That's better."

As he was repositioning his hips, you anxiously awaited the sensation you'd been chasing all this time. However, you couldn't have anticipated the sheer shock of him penetrating so agressively. Swirls of pleasure were muddled with pain, leaving only the restraints for you to brace yourself. Inspite of the twinges of pain being plundered into you, your wetness was fully coating Law's thighs.

The grip of the leather around your soft throat was harshly rubbing it. However, the uncomfortable pressure left your mouth parted and your eyes fluttered. Your body was tensing up, preparing you for climax. Your moans were growing louder and your hands struggled to find the much needed support from their leather confinements.

He was gracious enough to fuck you through your first orgasm of the day. It would've been far too cruel to pull out right as you were crossing that finish line. Though, as soon as you finished, he pulled out, leaving your body feeling like a hollow mess - aching to be filled once more. You whined in confusion, since you couldn't really see what he was planning for you.

You then felt the straps around your ankles fall off completely and his strong hands placed them on his shoulders. Before you had a chance to call out to him, he muzzled you with your own panties. Repositioning himself, you ended up being bent in half with his hands on either side of your head, gripping the top corners of the table.

No warning was given. He forcefully pushed past your swollen folds, granting him more dominance over your spasming slit. Your cries were still audible, but he loved hearing them being stifled by your dirtied lingerie. "You're such a slut, huh?" Although he was barely able to hold back his own moans, he couldn't help taunting you when you were in such a tempting state of vulnerability. "Gonna make you cum till you can't fucking see straight." With each seductive word, he showed no signs of letting up.

Tears were streaming down your temples, your hands still failing to firmly clutch to anything, your moans progressing into provacative screams, all of which were leaving Law in a state of pure ecstasy.

"Gonna stuff you full of cum, 'kay?" He'd been pumping so furiously, he could hardly speak, instead tiredly panting out to you. Nodding earnestly, you tightened around his length, encouraging him to drain his balls into you. With just a few more passionate plunges kissing your whomb, he offered every last bit of himself to you.

Catching your breaths was going to take a while. Gathering your barings was going to take even longer. The smell of sweat, bodily fluids, and musk surrounded the two of you and was far from dissipating, since the aroma of lust still had yet to be lifted.

Looking at your tear stained face, Law swept aside the dampened hair on your temple and kissed you with the first gentle one all day.

[scriveyner]

always summer #18

always summer #18: intercrural | bungou stray dogs |👿🐯 | #kinktober 🔞| ~1100 words

“I see that your evasive maneuvers still lack quite a bit of finesse,” Akutagawa said, having caught Atsushi in a tangle of Rashomon just inside the tree line. Atsushi had hit the ground hard and managed to lose his water gun in the ground cover at the same time.

Continue on ao3 or:

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, chin in the dirt. “Using abilities is cheating.”

“I recall no such rule,” Akutagawa said, arms folded and water still dripping from his hair. Atsushi had gotten the drop on him—literally—and he was going to make a big deal out of it, so Atsushi kicked his legs and started to roll to his feet, only for Rashomon to whip around Akutagawa, producing the cooler that had been sitting by the grill, and proceeded to dump its entire contents over Atsushi’s head.

“COLD!” Atsushi shrieked as half-melted ice cubes went everywhere. He transformed his legs without even thinking about it, freeing himself from Rashomon and going straight up the very large, very old tree they were underneath. Akutagawa smugly collected Atsushi’s abandoned weapon and stood at the base of the tree, looking up.

“That,” Atsushi yelled, barely visible several branches deep, “was a massive overreaction!”

“On the contrary,” Akutagawa said as Rashomon closed the cooler and Akutagawa perched atop his new seat, still looking quite smug, “it is well within the rules of engagement to exploit any known weaknesses.”

Atsushi said, straddling the tree branch, “I know where you sleep.”

Rashomon shot up the tree and severed the branch from the trunk. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Atsushi said in the split second before gravity won the day and he crashed through the trees and back to the forest floor.

“Now then,” Akutagawa said primly, as a shower of broken twigs and leaves rained down upon them both, “what lesson have you learned today, weretiger?”

Lying flat on his back, and with all ten claws dug deep into the severed branch hugged to his chest, Atsushi said, “I hate you so much right now.”

“And here I thought cats landed on their feet.”

“I am going to make you eat that water gun!”

“Oh, you are, are you?” Akutagawa allowed Rashomon to dangle the plastic weapon above both their heads. “I would dearly like to see you try to retrieve it, first. Or,” he added, legs crossed at the knee and foot bouncing, “you can have it back for the toll of…hm. One kiss.”

He lifted the foot he had been bouncing illustratively, a smirk on his face, and Atsushi turned in one motion, springing straight into the air, tiger claws flashing toward Rashomon. He had intended to slash through the ability; but while Atsushi was fast, Rashomon was faster, and Akutagawa’s control kept the gun deftly from Atsushi’s hands.

“Two kisses,” Akutagawa said without moving, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Atsushi snarled and leaped for it again. Akutagawa rested his elbow on his knee and put his chin in his hand, watching Atsushi leapfrog through the trees after the ability, snaking around the trees and through the branches. “If you’re going to be so difficult about this, I will up the ante to an orgasm.”

That distracted Atsushi just enough that he clipped a tree trunk with his shoulder and hit the ground hard. After a moment of inventive cursing—again, passively absorbed from Chuuya—he stomped over to Akutagawa and glared down at him, chest heaving.

“Just one?” he said, and Akutagawa’s smirk grew.

“Are you offering me more?”

Akutagawa clearly intended for there to be some form of negotiation to this; but Atsushi was clearly in no mode to accommodate. He grabbed Akutagawa by the shoulder, and he put up no defense, roughly turned over, hands braced on the cooler automatically to keep him from slamming his chest into it.

“Oh, weretiger,” Akutagawa said mockingly as Atsushi yanked down his shorts—but didn’t get a chance to complete the thought as Atsushi slapped his hand over Akutagawa’s mouth, muffling him.

His other hand went right around Akutagawa’s dick, and Akutagawa made a muffled noise against Atsushi’s palm as he stroked Akutagawa to erect.

Atsushi had fitted himself against Akutagawa’s back, one knee between his legs and breath harsh on his neck. “You just like riling me up,” Atsushi grunted into his skin, and Akutagawa rumbled against his hand and then bit him. Atsushi yanked his hand back, swearing again, and Akutagawa hung his head, mouth open.

“Make it hurt, weretiger,” he panted, braced on his elbows against the cooler’s lid.

Atsushi released his dick and Akutagawa groaned in disappointment, Rashomon rippling from his shoulders until he felt Atsushi rest his own cock against his backside, and he exhaled again, this time eager for it. Atsushi wasn’t really interested in giving him that, though, as his cock slipped lower, tucking into that tight space between Akutagawa’s thighs, and the slick head nudging against the back of his balls. “What are you,” Akutagawa grunted as Atsushi began to thrust in the narrow space. “Ah, fuck, weretiger—that’s not enough…”

He rocked back against Atsushi though, kept his legs tight even without Atsushi’s hand on his hips, and Atsushi sank his teeth into the juncture of neck of neck and shoulder, exposed by the slide of his open shirt. Akutagawa shuddered, groaning appreciatively at the flash of pain; but then Atsushi let out a soft grunt, hips moving quick and uneven, before Akutagawa felt fluid coat the inside of his legs.

“Did you just come?” he snapped, stunned, Atsushi’s breath still being panted into the back of his neck. “Going off so quickly, just like a child—”

Atsushi’s hand slipped down his side as he pulled back, and Akutagawa waited for his fingers again, firm and familiar, to wrap around his aching cock…but that relief did not arrive.

“The toll was only one orgasm, you didn’t mention whose,” Atsushi breathed into his ear, a level of self-satisfied in his voice that Akutagawa was going to have to remove limbs to recompense. Rashomon immediately stabbed the air where Atsushi had been behind him, but punctured nothing, and by the time he whirled, pulling his shorts up one-handed, Atsushi had scooped up the forgotten water gun and bolted.

~*~

Chuuya was smoking on the balcony, having locked Dazai in the master bedroom for the quiet. Movement caught his eye in the distance, and he watched with detached interest as Atsushi bolted out of the trees like a rabbit startled by the shadow of a hawk; several seconds later an enormous wall of Rashomon tentacles followed.

He got a fair distance across the grass before Rashomon reached him, catching him by the ankle and wiping him out. Akutagawa stumbled out of the tree line in its wake, and there was faint yelling that he couldn’t make out from here—but then Rashomon yanked Atsushi off his feet, spun him once through the air, and flung him off roughly in the direction of the lake.

After several seconds, there was a distant splash.

“Huh,” Chuuya said, and blew smoke into the afternoon.

[dracowars]

Hii, could I pleaser request a draco x reader based off of the song heather by Cohan gray where basically the reader and draco were close until this other girl came along maybe angst with a lot of fluff at the end and can you please make the reader a gryffindor? ❤

while i die | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x gryffindor!reader

word count: 2,4k

summary: where draco replaced y/n

a/n: when i tell you that i listened to this song every day when it came out (i still do, actually lol)

warnings: angst

universe: harry potter

With your eyes narrowed, you stare through the filled Great Hall, over to the table of the Slytherins, whose students are all dressed in their usual green, enjoying their breakfast, joking around with each other here and there, or just chatting. A couple of them have a book or piece of parchment in front of them, probably doing their homework for Charms at the last moment before you, the Gryffindors and Slytherins of year six, go to Professor Flitwick’s lesson together.

However, you are not staring there for no reason, no. You are looking for something specific, for someone specific, even though you know very well that you should not be doing so. You would hurt yourself again, like so many times before. And yet you can’t avert your gaze, even when you do not find what you are looking for.

With a sad sigh, you finally turn to your plate of delicious food of which you can hardly choke down anything again today, your stomach aching with hunger. You are still too affected by what happened. The gaping wound in your heart that you once believed would decrease over time, still present, giving you a stabbing pain every time you think back.

The lively conversations of your fellow Gryffindor friends around you are slowly falling silent as you get lost in your thoughts, a habit you only recently acquired. Completely drowning in your thoughts, your gaze wanders to the table on the other side of the Great Hall one more time and suddenly all your thoughts disappear in the matter of a second, the stabbing pain that you are so afraid of, returning. Now that you have discovered him.

With her.

Your reasonable mind screams at you to finally look the other way, to finally get over it, get over him, but your broken heart easily wins the fight within you. Your gaze stays fixed on him as he touches her, as he looks at her.

The way he once looked at you.

Before everything broke apart.

While you watch him, the pure emotional chaos reigns inside of you. You have already shed so many tears because of him, but now you can’t even cry anymore, not because of him. You quietly suffer on your own, so far away from him, only watching him from a distance as he goes on with his life while he has stopped yours.

“I do not ever want to see you again”, his hurtful words echo in your head, painfully piercing through your heart for the thousandth time. “Get out!”

Your common sense finally wins the upper hand to some extent and you blink a few times, trying to banish the horrific imagines from your head, but as soon as you close your eyes, they reappear right in front of you. Your sad gaze now directs itself to her, who is still a part of his life, who has replaced you.

Right at the moment your gaze meets her, you have to hold your breath. She looks so beautiful again today. Her long, smooth brown hair playfully falls over her shoulders, the strands, which are cut shorter in the front, framing her face perfectly, the smile on her lips making her shine brightly. The green of her school uniform compliments her eyes, makes them shimmer even more. Even the oversized dark gray sweater she is wearing today fits her perfectly. A sweater that used to adorn your body too.

Back when everything was still all right, when this piece of cloth supposedly suited you better than him.

And now it suits her better than you.

You have to watch how he looks at her with so much love in his eyes, happier than ever, how he looks after her as soon as she leaves the table to attend her next lesson. She has got him mesmerized while you are dying inside.

For him, she is now his one and only and for you, he still is yours.

Eventually managing to avert your gaze from them, you stand up when you notice how everyone around you has already got up to go to their class as well. In a hurry, you shoulder your bag, press the books, which you originally planned to take a look at while eating, against your chest and quietly follow your small group of friends out of the Great Hall – to your surprise – without looking back another time.

When the doorbell rings for the break, you flinch hardly after your thoughts wandered off again – how could it be otherwise – and left your body behind in the reality, a reality that you would gladly escape from forever. Rolling up your empty parchment lying in front of you and stowing it in your bag, you step out into the corridor teeming with students.

You follow your friends, who are chatting excitedly while repeating the spells you apparently have just learned, down the hallways, keeping a little distance from them but still close enough to be counted as part of their group. When you pass the courtyard, you unintentionally stop all of a sudden when something catches your eye.

Not far from you, in the middle of the courtyard, they stand, hand in hand, laughing with each other before he gives her a loving kiss. His hand is so much bigger than hers and it embraces hers perfectly, just as it once did with yours. Not noticing that you are watching them intently, he gently puts an arm around her, which she accompanies with a shy chuckle. You, in turn, suddenly become ice cold and unpleasant goose bumps cover your skin, running over your entire body. Shivering and slightly trembling from the sudden cold, you wrap your arms around your body while a feeling of anger slowly builds up inside of you.

A feeling of anger that is not directed at her because how could you ever hate her? She is an angel on earth and always so incredibly friendly and accommodating. No, you would never hate her.

You do not even hate him. The rising anger you feel in this moment is directed at you, for what you have destroyed.

Your hand instinctively reaches for your wand tucked in your pocket, clinging to it like it could be able to protect you from the worst. And suddenly it might not be that bad after all if she instantly drops dead right here, right now.

You only come back to your clear senses again when you feel glances on you and your eyes directly meet his. His gray eyes look at you without any emotion, while yours are just overflowing with emotions. Abruptly, you turn away, trying to control your fast heartbeat before running down the hallway.

What you do not notice, however, is Draco’s sad look he threw after you, almost seeming like he is pitying you.

You promised yourself that you would never ever shed a tear for him again and yet, here you are again, sitting in an empty, abandoned corridor on the floor, your knees drawn closely to your body while you sob sadly. Nobody could ever take away the pain you have to endure every day. It has become a part of you.

A part that you have to live with.

“Y/N”, his voice sounds in your ear, which makes you laugh bitterly. You always loved the way he pronounced your name. It feels like it has been years since you last heard his voice.

“Y/N?”, his voice repeats in your ear and finally causes you to look up when you feel a breeze flying past you.

What you thought was only happening inside of your head was actually real. You did not imagine it. There he is, Draco, standing right in front of you, his eyes roaming over your fragile body with worry. You frantically get up from the cold ground and wipe away your precious tears, turning your body away from him in order to protect yourself, preferably wanting to flee in a different direction straight away.

“Is everything all right?”, he asks you and takes a step closer to you while your gaze fearfully escapes through the corridor, searching for his friends who are probably just waiting around the next corner to watch the funny spectacle unfold.

Trying to muster up all your courage to answer him, you terribly fail and instead burst out into tears, quickly running past him, not expecting to get pulled back immediately. Startled, you look at him, look at his hand which is holding your wrist tightly and thus preventing you from walking away.

“I can see that you are not fine”, Draco whispers sadly, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, even though deep down he already foresees the reason which has done such cruel things to you.

“Let go of me”, you ask him, trying to stay as calm as possible when in reality you would love to yell at him from the top of your lungs that he should not talk to you, that he should stop being nice to you.

“I just wanted to see if everything is okay”, Draco defends himself and from one second to the next the expression on his face goes back to how it was the last time you talked to each other. Hurt and angry.

“You are too late for that”, you speak through gritted teeth, his hand still not letting go of you. The way he talks to you makes you angry. How he treats you as if nothing ever happened makes you furious.

“You gave her your sweater”, it suddenly bursts out of you before you can stop yourself and you watch how Draco’s eyes widen at your statement. You lower your gaze to the floor, not believing that out of all the things you could have said, you chose to say this.

“It is just polyester”, he replies, irritated why you opened up to him all of a sudden. Angrily, you finally snatch your wrist out of his tight grip.

“But you like her better”, you scoff sadly, shaking your head in disappointment, gathering all your thoughts. “Sometimes I wish I were Astoria.”

Silence spreads between you when nobody says anything, and you do not even dare to take your eyes off the ground. Your heart is beating painfully against your chest like crazy, your hands slightly shaking.

“Why do you say that?”, Draco breaks the silence, his voice broken, heartbreaking.

“Because it is the truth”, you ridicule, unable to believe that he still does not understand you. “I am not even half as pretty. I understand why you chose her over me. I mean, why would you ever kiss me? Look at me-“

Not letting you finish your sentence, he suddenly pulls you to him, his hands clasping your face, and letting your words die in your mouth with a kiss. You let yourself go despite your mind and heart yelling at you, telling you to stop. You let him kiss you like you always wanted. Your lips move in harmony with one another, a desire noticeable in the kiss that goes beyond anything.

And as quickly as this indescribable feeling appeared, it disappears again, and you notice how single tears roll down your cheeks. Draco catches some of them with the fingertips of his thumbs, his touch sending warmth through your body. Still being this close to him should make you feel uncomfortable, but on the contrary. You feel safe.

“I am incredibly sorry”, Draco whispers, leaning his forehead against yours, closing his eyes while carefully thinking about how to phrase his next words. “I do not like her better. At all.”

“B-But, Draco-“

“Shh”, he softly breathes and puts his thumb on your lips to silence you, his gaze longingly directed at them. “Astoria and I are engaged.”

“WHAT?!”, you scream out in disbelief, violently pushing him away from you, your head realizing that he is indeed just playing one of his games with you again.

“Wait, listen to me. Please”, he almost begs you and takes another step towards you, his hand outstretched to invite yours into his. Not knowing why – maybe because of his shimmering eyes – you agree and carefully place your hand in his, which he immediately grips tightly and thus keeps it from shaking. He gently pulls you closer again, bringing your hand to his mouth to place a kiss, light as a feather, on the back of it.

“Our parents engaged us. Astoria is a Greengrass, a pureblood. We were promised each other and I- I refused to accept it because my heart belongs to someone else, it always did. But they did not give in and threatened to harm you”, Draco stutters out, his eyes now also filled with tears as he looks deep into yours. “I had to let you go, I had to hurt you to make it believable. You were not allowed to question it. You had to believe it.”

“I have suffered for so long, Draco. Why now? Why are you telling me this now?”, you ask, completely calm, but no longer knowing where to lock away your boiling feelings. “We could have found a solution. You and I, together.”

“I could not let them harm you, don’t you understand?”, he asks desperately, taking your face between his hands again. “I was worried about you. I was selfish because I rather wanted to hurt you myself than let others do it.”

“You were selfish”, you reply coldly and bite down on your lower lip to prevent further tears from falling.

“I know”, Draco admits, bowing his head dejectedly. “I can’t make it up to you. What I have done is unforgivable. But I want you to know that I love you more than anything on this goddamn planet. I do not want to be with Astoria, I want to be with you. By Merlin’s beard, I never wanted anything more in my insignificant life-“

This time, you are the one to cut him off with a kiss mid-sentence. His tense body relaxes in an instant when he returns the kiss with passion and you completely lose yourself in the kiss you should never have given him.

“Come back to me, Draco”, you whisper hopefully after breaking the kiss, kissing a few of his tears away. Draco’s arms wrap tightly around you, pressing you against his warm body with a nod, you can feel his heartbeat violently beat against yours.

“I will.”

And in the end, you were the one who mesmerized him.

[prouvaireafterdark]

Casual Affair

AKA the “Anti-Forlex Smut”

Technically not a cheating fic, but it kind of has that vibe for a while so if that’s a dealbreaker for you then you might want to skip this one. If you’re looking for unrepentant filth, though, I’ve, uh, got you covered.

Also on AO3!

***

Open Mic Night at the Wild Pony tends to draw a crowd of all sorts: rowdy undergrads from the local community college, older folks trying to recapture their youth with some spirited karaoke, and even soulful academic types like Forrest looking to share their angsty emo poetry. Tonight, as Alex soon discovers, it’s also drawn in Michael Guerin.

Alex doesn’t need to look to know Michael’s staring at him. He can feel his eyes on him like a caress, heavy on the side of his neck before it slides hot down the length of his chest to settle low above his belt buckle. If it wasn’t for the blue-haired historian sitting next to him he’d already have done something about it.

He takes a deep swallow of the beer he’s been nursing for the last ten minutes and tries to ignore him. Maybe if he pretends the restless energy thrumming through his whole body isn’t there, it’ll go away. 

Luckily, he’s got a decent enough distraction; A pair of tone deaf townies are currently massacring “Under Pressure” on stage, a spectacle awful enough to hold his attention like a six car pile up. Alex takes another drink and tries not to laugh behind the rim of his bottle. 

The performance—if one can even call it that—is over in minutes and as the next musician takes the stage, Alex’s gaze finally wanders over toward the bar. Through the crowd of people drinking and laughing with their friends and partners, he catches sight of Michael immediately.

He’s sitting at the bar, but he’s facing out toward the crowd and Alex can’t help but notice how good he looks. With the way his elbows are tucked behind him and resting on the bar top, his chest hair is on proud display through his indecently buttoned flannel and the worn denim of his jeans is pulled tight over his spread thighs. He’s even got his fingers wrapped suggestively around the neck of the beer bottle in his hand—non-alcoholic, Alex registers with no small amount of pride as he catches sight of the label. However messy and complicated things are between them now, he’s glad to see that Michael is making some better choices these days.

Michael notices him staring, because of course he does. He cocks his head and smirks, not subtle at all about what he wants. That look cuts right through him, sending heat down Alex’s spine.

Alex takes a deep breath and turns to face the stage, desperately hoping whatever top 40 hit the new girl on stage is singing will calm his growing erection. Its mindless beat helps him relax, but not enough that Forrest doesn’t notice something’s up.

“You okay?” he asks him, moving his hand off the table to rest his arm along the back of Alex’s chair. Alex tries not to flinch when his fingers comb through the hair that curls along the base of his neck, long enough now that it’s not quite regulation anymore.

“Yeah,” Alex smiles encouragingly, hoping Forrest doesn’t see through him. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward until Forrest’s fingers slip away from his collar. “You want something to drink?”

“Uh,” Forrest starts, looking at his half-empty beer before shrugging. “Yeah, I’ll have another.”

“Great,” Alex says, already standing. “Be right back.”

He makes his way across the bar, trying his best to ignore the way Michael smirks and spreads his thighs a little wider where he sits perched on the edge of his barstool.  

“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that,” Alex chastises him once he’s close enough. He slides into the space at the bar beside him, facing forward with his elbows on the bar top. He catches Michael’s easy smile out of the corner of his eye, and he’s relieved he isn’t hit with the full force of it.

“I’ve been looking at you like this for over ten years, Alex,” Michael replies. “I’m not gonna stop now.”

Alex tries to ignore the way that makes his heart feel somehow light and heavy at the same time where it beats frantically behind his ribs.

“Why are you even here?” Alex asks, chancing a glance at Michael’s face. 

Like the demon that he is, Michael chooses that moment to bring his non-alcoholic beer to his lips and take a long sip. Alex watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and tries desperately not to think about how fucking tight his throat had felt the last time he’d gotten Michael on his knees. 

He doesn’t quite manage it and either it’s written all over his face or Isobel’s taught Michael some new tricks because he can see smug satisfaction in the way his eyes sparkle in the neon glow coming from behind the bar. 

Alex shifts his stance, dutifully ignoring the tightness in his jeans, and tries again. “You hate Open Mic Night.”

“You don’t,” Michael shrugs, like that explains anything. 

Alex kind of hates that it does.

“I’m not performing tonight,” Alex tells him. 

“No, you’re not,” Michael agrees, and then adds a beat later, “but your boyfriend is.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alex bristles. Sure, he and Forrest have been hooking up now and then, but he isn’t—he’s not—

“Does he know that?” Michael asks skeptically, interrupting his thoughts. 

Alex rolls his eyes, uninterested in explaining the intricacies of his not-relationship with Forrest. He doesn’t really see how it matters now, after everything they’ve gotten up to in the last few weeks.

Michael just licks his lips and gives him that infuriatingly sexy grin before he leans in and says, “Well, if he’s not your boyfriend, then why don’t you meet me in the bathroom in five?”

Heat once again rushes through Alex at Michael’s proposition, pooling low in his gut. He turns to look at him in disbelief, but Michael’s smile just grows more smug.

“See you soon,” he whispers, and stands up from his seat, his drink left abandoned on the bar.

Alex resolutely does not stare at Michael’s ass as he saunters off toward the bathroom. It’s a good thing too—the bartender steps in front of him not two seconds later.

“What can I get you?” he asks, drying off a clean pint glass with a checkered dishtowel.

Alex clears his throat before he places his order and fishes a twenty out of his wallet. 

He lays it on the bar with every intention that this time he will stand his ground, get his drinks, and rejoin Forrest at their table, but the next thing Alex knows, he’s pushing his way through the crowd and into the small, dimly-lit bathroom. 

He finds Michael leaning against the sink, arms folded across his chest. He smirks when he sees Alex enter, but Alex doesn’t give him long to gloat before he’s crossed the distance between them and has the front of Michael’s soft flannel bunched up in his fists.

Michael’s eyes flash to Alex’s mouth, his tongue peeking out to wet his own lips in anticipation, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss him. He won’t—not while Alex is obviously out with someone else. It’s an absurd line to draw at a moment like this, but Michael told him once that if Alex wants him, he can come and get him, so it’s Alex’s move now. 

Alex thinks it’s more complicated than that, that they still have a lot to talk about before they try to do this thing for real, but what he thinks more is that he wants to remind himself what Michael’s mouth tastes like.

He surges forward to kiss him, slotting their lips together easily. Michael pulls him closer the moment Alex lets him know he can, blunt nails biting softly into his skin as he slides his fingers under the edges of Alex’s shirt. Alex deepens the kiss almost immediately, Michael’s teasing leaving him desperate and wanting. Michael opens for him so sweetly when he licks along the seam of his lips, just as eager for more as Alex slides his tongue into his mouth.

They kiss like that for what feels like ages but can’t be longer than a minute, Alex losing himself for the moment to the scent of petrichor in the air around him and the taste of it on his tongue. He isn’t sure who pulls away first, but the next thing he knows both of their chests are heaving as they gasp into the narrow space between their mouths. 

He opens his eyes to see Michael looking back at him, his pupils blown wide, lips red and wet. He’s so fucking beautiful Alex’s heart aches in ways he can’t describe.

“Mm,” Michael hums low in his throat, nudging his nose against Alex’s cheek. “What would Forrest say if he knew what you were up to?”

“Fuck you,” Alex grumbles, more on principle than anything else.

“Not tonight, baby,” Michael drawls. “It’s your turn.”

With that, Michael spins them around so it’s Alex with his back against the sink and Alex is fairly certain that it’s only by the grace of Michael’s telekinesis that he doesn’t trip over his own feet. He groans when Michael presses in close, as his thigh nudges its way between Alex’s legs for him to grind his hard cock against.

Michael watches him with singleminded focus, his hands on Alex’s hips encouraging him to keep moving against him, until Alex threads his fingers into Michael’s riotous curls and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s desperate and hungry, filled with every ounce of longing he’s felt for Michael just about every fucking day for the last eleven years. 

Michael meets him in the middle, his hands on Alex’s hips tightening their grip hard enough to bruise, and in that moment Alex doesn’t even care if Michael leaves a mark so long as he doesn’t stop touching him. Michael rocks against him as they kiss, grinding their hips together through the rough denim of their jeans until the tease is too much to bear. 

“Fuck, I want you,” Alex gasps when they part, wishing he was steadier on his feet so he could wrap a leg around Michael’s body and pull him in closer. 

“Good thing I have lube then,” Michael says, dipping down to mouth along the sensitive skin of Alex’s neck, careful not to leave a mark. He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out two single-use packets of lube.

Alex’s cock throbs as he stands there, consumed by the thought of Michael working him open in a goddamn public bathroom where anyone—including Forrest, fuck, he’s a terrible person—could hear them. 

Alex is turning around in Michael’s arms and grinding his ass back against the bulge in his jeans before the part of his brain still capable of higher reasoning registers that there’s something missing from Michael’s hand.

“Wait—condom?” Alex asks, eyebrow raised at Michael’s reflection in the mirror in front of him—not that Michael can see it where he’s reattached himself to Alex’s neck, his hands dipping low on his belly now that he’s left the lube on the edge of the sink.

Michael shakes his head with a low hum. “All out. We used my last one yesterday.”

“Already? Fuck,” Alex whines, unable to hide his disappointment. Michael just keeps kissing his neck, seemingly unperturbed by this revelation. “We really need to stop doing this.”

That gets a reaction from him. 

Michael’s grip on Alex’s hips tightens instinctually, but his voice is carefully light as he retorts, “You don’t mean that.” 

God help him, he doesn’t.

“Well then you need to learn to stop at fucking CVS before you make a promise you can’t keep,” Alex argues.

“Who says I can’t keep my promise?” Michael purrs in his ear.

Alex’s breath catches in his throat as he realizes what Michael is suggesting and Michael’s grin widens as he watches Alex start to flush in the mirror.

“You sure seemed to enjoy yourself the last time I fucked you raw,” he continues, voice low and rough as gravel. “You remember?”

Alex huffs an incredulous laugh. Of course he fucking remembers—He’d been twenty two, fresh off his first tour, and just impatient enough to say fuck it after Michael told him he was out of condoms when he showed up at his Airstream unannounced. He came three times that night; twice on Michael’s cock and once more on his tongue when Michael decided he wanted to clean up the mess he’d made himself. 

Alex wouldn’t necessarily call it his finest moment of judgment, but it had been terribly, unspeakably hot.

“So, what do you say, Alex?” Michael asks him when he doesn’t respond right away, grinding his hips suggestively forward. “You gonna let me fuck you?”

It’s a terrible idea. Alex knows this. Michael knows this. It’ll be messy for one thing—What’s Alex supposed to do when they’re done, go back to sit with Forrest while Michael’s come leaks into his underwear?—not to mention unsafe, even with how regularly he gets tested and that Michael’s alien biology makes it extremely unlikely that he could catch or transmit anything.

But even in the face of all the reasons Alex should say no, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking desperate for it.

In the end, he lets out a shuddering breath and nods, “Yeah, fuck, do it.”

“That’s my boy,” Michael whispers, and Alex tries not to whimper as Michael dips down once more to press a tender kiss to the edge of his jaw. 

Without another word, Michael’s hands slide that little bit further down Alex’s front to find his belt. He makes quick work of the buckle and drags the fabric down his hips to the middle of his thigh. 

Michael’s hands are surprisingly gentle as they encourage Alex to turn around to face him, and once he does, Alex rests his lower back against the sink, hands braced on either side of it. Michael presses a soft kiss to his mouth before he drops to his knees, and when he looks up at him through that thick mop of curls, Alex wishes he didn’t look so goddamn pretty down there. 

His eyes stay on Michael’s flushed mouth as he leans in toward his bare cock. He watches Michael roll his tongue over the head, already sticky with precome, watches his eyes flutter closed as he groans at the taste. There’s a rapturous look on his face as he softly begins to suck him, the way there always is when Michael goes down on him, but, as good as it feels, they don’t exactly have the time to indulge Michael’s oral fixation right now.

Alex releases his hold on the sink to thread his fingers through Michael’s curls, gripping just tight enough to tug gently on the loose strands.  

“We have to hurry,” Alex reminds him. “Forrest’s set starts soon.”

Michael rolls his eyes. He looks like he’s about to complain, but then he’s opening his mouth wider to take him deeper and Alex sort of loses the plot after that. 

Lost in the wet, sucking heat of Michael’s mouth, Alex distantly hears the crinkling of a wrapper as Michael tears open the packet of lube and spills some onto his fingers. He doesn’t waste time warming it before he nudges Alex’s legs as far apart as he can and slips his hand between his cheeks.

Alex jumps at the chill as slick fingers find his hole and the corners of Michael’s mouth curl upward around his cock. Alex tightens his grip on his hair just a little in retaliation.

Michael rubs his finger over Alex’s hole, massaging it gently before he tries to breach it with his finger. He slips one inside him as he works his throat around his cock, and it’s not long before Alex’s rim is stretched tight over three of Michael’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” Alex keens as Michael crooks his fingers just enough to brush his prostate, his cock throbbing where it sits on Michael’s tongue. 

Michael hums and sucks him harder, sending Alex’s eyes rolling back into his skull.

“Michael, stop,” Alex whines, fingers tightening in his curls again. As much as he would love to chase his orgasm in the heat of Michael’s mouth, he’d rather do it on his cock. “M’ready, come on.”

Michael pulls off of Alex with a pop and gently removes his fingers from his ass before he gets up off his knees.

“Turn around,” he says, voice low as he fumbles for the other packet of lube on the sink without taking his eyes off Alex’s face. The intensity of Michael’s attention makes Alex’s heart race with anticipation and he’s helpless against the impulse to surge forward and kiss him again, quick and dirty—just long enough for him to get a taste of his own precome on Michael’s tongue before he’s turning around on unsteady legs and bracing himself against the edge of the sink.

Michael doesn’t make him wait for it. In seconds, he feels the insistent press of Michael’s cock against his hole, slick with lube and precome. Alex bears down on it, gasping as the thick head of it finally works its way passed his rim. 

“That’s it, baby, let me in,” Michael murmurs against his ear as he pushes in deeper, his palm charting a soothing path along his flank as Alex tries to relax into the stretch. 

Michael’s cock feels so hot inside him without a barrier of latex dulling the sensation, and Alex can’t help but let out the whimper building in his throat as he presses back against it, encouraging Michael to sink in deeper.

“Fuck, ‘Lex,” Michael moans into his neck as he bottoms out, his hips flush against Alex’s ass. “You always feel so fucking good.”

Michael lets Alex adjust for a moment, dotting his skin with soft, wet kisses until he feels him start to shift his hips restlessly. Taking the cue from Alex, he pulls out halfway and snaps his hips forward in one quick movement. 

Alex gasps again, pleasure lighting up his spine, and arches his back for more. Michael is all too eager to give it to him, increasing his thrusts in power and speed until Alex is a panting mess, bent over and mewling quietly as his hips bump against the edges of the sink.

Alex doesn’t even realize his eyes have slipped closed until he hears Michael whisper, “God, look at you.”

Alex opens his eyes and catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. He can see every ounce of pleasure he’s feeling reflected back at himself, his brow drawn tight and beaded with sweat, his eyes nearly black with how blown his pupils are. A sudden, sharp moan bursts from his parted lips as the thick head of Michael’s bare cock brushes over his prostate and his eyes jump to Michael’s face in time to watch his mouth spread into a smug grin.

“Right there, huh?” Michael teases, angling his hips to hit that spot again a little more intentionally. Alex groans, his white-knuckle grip on the sink tightening even more. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it? You want more?”

Alex nods his head, not trusting his voice as he pushes back to meet him thrust for thrust. He’s so close already, and when Michael starts moving faster, his hips slapping against the swell of his ass, Alex has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out. 

“Your boyfriend fuck you this good, ‘Lex?” Michael asks him suddenly, something harsh and maybe a little bitter creeping into his tone. When Alex doesn’t dignify that with a response, he continues, “I bet he doesn’t. You wanna know how I know?”

“Michael,” Alex warns, not wanting to hash this out now, but Michael doesn’t listen, only leans in close until Alex can feel his breath puff against his cheek.

“‘Cause that All American Reject is out there on stage right now,” Michael pants into his ear, “and you’re in here, fucking yourself on my cock like you’re dying for it.”

Alex feels a heady mix of shame and arousal as the garbled sound of Forrest’s spoken word registers distantly in his ears, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Michael is reaching between his legs and wrapping his hand around his cock. He slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive head, through the precome dripping steadily from his slit. It’s a dizzying counterpoint to Michael’s frantic thrusts and Alex finds himself on the edge in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh god,” he moans, the back of his head connecting with Michael’s shoulder as he throws his head backward. He can feel it building inside him, his gut coiling tight with pleasure. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Me too,” Michael gasps, the rhythm of his hips growing less coordinated as he desperately chases his own release. “Where do you want it?”

“In me, fuck, Michael, don’t stop,” he replies, too strung out to give a fuck about the consequences. 

“Fuck, ‘Lex, I—“ Michael cuts off suddenly as he comes, and it’s the feeling of Michael spilling hot inside him, groaning low in his ear, that sets Alex off, whimpering as he makes a mess of the cracked tile beneath their feet. 

As he’s coming down, Alex slumps forward and tries to catch his breath, his forearms braced on the sink in front of him the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle on the floor. Michael stays a warm weight against his back, as if reluctant to put even an inch of space between them, and Alex can’t say he minds one bit.

Just as Alex is admiring Michael’s sated reflection in the mirror, applause suddenly breaks out from beyond the bathroom door, signaling the end of Forrest’s performance. The two of them flinch back into reality, the spell around them bursting like a bubble. 

Alex feels the brush of Michael’s lips against his temple before he stands up straight and slowly begins to pull out. With the high of his orgasm now dissipated, the sensation of Michael’s come leaking out of him when he does is deeply unpleasant and Alex is quick to clean himself up.

By the time Alex refastens his belt around his hips and turns around to face him, Michael is still trying to tame his chaotic curls—a futile effort after all the tugging Alex did when Michael was blowing him. Alex can’t find it in himself to be anything other than charmed.

Michael catches him looking and abandons his work with a smile as he pulls Alex into a kiss, soft and sweeter than Alex is expecting. 

Alex sighs into it, his fingers catching Michael’s jaw to keep him there a heartbeat longer, even as he murmurs, “I should go,” when they part, his face still a scant few inches from Michael’s.

Michael lets out a deep, ponderous sigh that Alex feels against his mouth. “You don’t sound like you want to.”

“Do I ever?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Michael pulls back enough to look at Alex’s face. He stares at him for a long moment, eyes searching for something, and Alex feels exposed, like Michael is looking right through him. 

“What are we doing, Alex?” he asks at last, voice no louder than a whisper.

Alex looks away, cowed by the question. 

He was trying to give Michael and himself space while they figured out who they were now and what they really wanted from each other, but that went out the window weeks ago now, the second a narrow escape from a Project Shepard black site drove Alex to Michael’s doorstep, a USB full of classified research on alien technology held tight between his shaking fingers. 

One moment of weakness had turned into many, many more, but with Michael still on the road to sobriety and Alex still running himself ragged trying to take apart the rest of Project Shepard, it just didn’t feel like the right time to try to chart out their future together. They agreed that keeping things casual and non-exclusive was the safer option for now, that they could give each other something of the closeness they craved without adding in the pressure of being in a real, committed relationship just yet. 

But even as he has that thought, Alex can’t help but hear how ridiculous it sounds. There’s nothing casual about the way Alex brings Michael dinner when he knows he’s too wrapped up in an experiment to remember to feed himself, or the way Michael fixed the automatic setting on Alex’s temperamental espresso machine last week so he could get a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning. They might have told themselves they weren’t ready for a relationship, but, if he’s being really honest with himself, they’re already halfway there. 

And as Alex looks at Michael once more and sees the twin hope and trepidation in his whiskey-toned eyes, he can’t help but think, What the hell are we waiting for?

“Alex?” Michael asks again, head cocked to the side, still waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know,” Alex tells him honestly. “But… I think I’m ready to have that talk now.”

Michael takes his meaning immediately. “Really?” he asks, his eyes lighting up. 

“Yeah,” Alex answers, and the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth is quickly smothered when Michael surges forward to kiss him again. Alex is happy to let him, his heart swelling in his chest with emotions he’s no longer afraid of feeling. 

“Just not here, okay?” Alex continues when they part. Public bathrooms really aren’t the best place for long overdue love confessions and Alex is pretty sure he’s got an angry not-boyfriend to deal with outside. “Meet me at my place in an hour.” 

“An hour?” Michael pouts dramatically. It’s unfairly adorable.

Alex laughs in spite of himself before pulling Michael closer. “We’ve waited eleven years for this,” he reminds him. “I think we can make it another sixty minutes.”

“If you insist,” he sighs, but he’s smiling as he presses another kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I’ll see you there.”

Alex watches him leave, nerves buzzing in his stomach as he anticipates the conversation he’s about to have with Forrest.

His worrying turns out to be for nothing, though—When Alex finally exits the bathroom, Forrest is nowhere to be found. A little asking around tells him he put his drinks on Alex’s tab and left as soon as his performance was over. 

Alex can’t help but feel a little bad about hurting him, but as he pulls up to his house twenty minutes later to see Michael’s truck already parked in his driveway, the man himself perched on the edge of his tailgate with his feet kicking restlessly at the air, he knows he’s made the right choice.

Because so what if he wakes up in the morning to a few angry texts from Forrest? He’ll also have the love of his life snoring softly beside him and another thirty minutes to kill before his coffee is ready, and Alex is determined to never take either of those things for granted ever again.

[xoruffitup]

Annette: The AD Devotee Review

So I saw Annette on its premiere night in Cannes and I’m still trying to process and make sense of those 2.5 hours of utter insanity. I have no idea where to begin and this is likely going to become an unholy length by the time I’m finished, so I apologize in advance. But BOY I’ve got a lot to parse through!!

Let’s start here: Adam’s made plenty of weird movies. The Dead Don’t Die? The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? There are definitely Terry Gilliam-esque elements of the unapologetically absurd and fantastical in Annette, but NOTHING comes close to this film. To put it bluntly, nothing I write in this post can prepare you for the eccentric phantasmagoria you’re about to sit through.

While the melodies conveying the story – at times lovely and haunting, at times whimsical, occasionally blunt and simple – add a unique sense of the surreal, the fact that it’s all presented in song somehow supplies the medium for this bizarre concoction of disparate elements and outlandish storytelling to all coalesce into a single genre-defying, disbelief-suspending whole. That’s certainly not to say there weren’t a few times when I quietly chortled to myself and mouthed “what the fuck” from behind my mask when things took an exceeding turn to the outrageous. This movie needs to be permitted a bit of leeway in terms of quality judgments, and traditional indicators certainly won’t apply. I would say part of its appeal (and ultimately its success) stems from its lack of interest in appealing to traditional arbiters of film structure and viewing experience. The movie lingers in studies of discomfiture (I’ll return to this theme); it presents all its absurdities with brazen pride rather than temperance; and its end is abrupt and utterly jarring. Yet somehow, at the end of it, I realized I’d been white-knuckling that rollercoaster ride the whole way through and loved every last twist and turn.

A note on the structure of this post before I dive in: I’ve written out a synopsis of the whole film (for those spoiler-hungry people) and stashed it down at the bottom of this post, so no one trying to avoid spoilers has to scroll through. If you want to read, go ahead and skip down to that before reading the discussion/analysis. If I have to reference a specific plot point, I’ll label it “Spoiler #___” and those who don’t mind being spoiled can check the correlating numbers in my synopsis to see which part I’m referencing. Otherwise, my discussion will be spoiler-free! I do detail certain individual scenes, but hid anything that would give away key developments and/or the ending.

To start, I’ll cut to what I’m sure many of you are here for: THE MUSICAL SEX SCENES. You want detailed descriptions? Well let’s fucking go because these scenes have been living in my head rent-free!!

The first (yes, there are two. Idk whether to thank Mr. Carax or suggest he get his sanity checked??) happens towards the end of “We Love Each Other So Much.” Henry carries Ann to the bed with her feet dangling several inches off the floor while she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders. (I maybe whimpered a tiny bit.) As they continue to sing, you first see Ann spread on her back on the bed, panting a little BUT STILL SINGING while Henry’s head is down between her thighs. The camera angle is from above Ann’s head, so you can clearly see down her body and exactly what’s going on. He lifts his head to croon a line, then puts his mouth right back to work. 

And THEN they fuck – still fucking singing! They’re on their sides with Henry behind her, and yes there is visible thrusting. Yes, the thrusting definitely picks up speed and force as the song reaches its crescendo. Yes, it was indeed EXTREMELY sensual once you got over the initial shock of what you’re watching. Ann kept her breasts covered with her own hands while Henry went down on her, but now his hands are covering them and kneading while they’re fucking and just….. It’s a hard, blazing hot R rating. I also remember his giant hand coming up to turn her head so he can kiss her and ladkjfaskfjlskfj. Bring your smelling salts. I don’t recommend sitting between two older ladies while you’re watching – KINDA RUINED THE BLATANT, SMOKING HOT ADAM PORN FOR ME. Good god, choose your viewing buddy wisely!

The second scene comes sort of out of nowhere – I can’t actually recall which song it was during, but it pops up while Ann is pregnant. Henry is again eating her out and there’s not as much overt singing this time, but he has his giant hands splayed over her pregnant belly while he’s going to town and whew, WHEW TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING PLEASE. DID THE THEATER INCREASE IN TEMPERATURE BY 10 DEGREES, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT DID.

Whew. I think you’ll be better primed to ~enjoy~ those scenes when you know they’re coming, otherwise it’s just so shocking that by the time you’ve processed “Look at Adam eating pussy with reckless abandon” it’s halfway over already. God speed, my fellow rats, it’s truly something to witness!!

Okay. Right. Ahem. Moving right on along….

I’ll kick off this discussion with the formal structure of the film. It’s honestly impossible to classify. I have the questionable fortune of having been taken to many a strange avant-garde operas and art exhibitions by my parents when I was younger, and the strongest parallel I found to this movie was melodramatic opera stagings full of flamboyant flourishes, austere set pieces, and prolonged numbers where the characters wallow at length in their respective miseries. This movie has all the elevated drama, spectacle, and self-aggrandizement belonging to any self-professed rock opera. Think psychedelic rock opera films a la The Who’s Tommy, Hair, Phantom of the Paradise, and hell, even Rocky Horror. Yes, this film really is THAT weird.

But Annette is also in large part a vibrant, absurdist performance piece. The film is intriguingly book-ended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character; and your own role blurs between passive viewer and interactive audience. The first scene has the cast walking through the streets of LA (I think?), singing “So May We Start?” directly to the camera in a self-aware prologue, smashing the fourth wall from the beginning and setting up the audience to play a direct role in the viewing experience. Though the cast then disburse and take up their respective roles, the sense of being directly performed to is reinforced throughout the film. This continues most concretely through Henry’s multiple stand-up comedy performances.

Though he performs to an audience in the film rather than directly to live viewers, these scenes are so lengthy, vulgar, and excessive that his solo performance act becomes an integral part of defining his character and conveying his arc as the film progresses. These scenes start to make the film itself feel like a one-man show. The whole shtick of Henry McHenry’s “Ape of God” show is its perverse irreverence and swaggering machismo. Over the span of what must be a five minute plus scene, Henry hacks up phlegm, pretends to choke himself with his microphone cord, prances across the stage with his bathrobe flapping about, simulates being shot, sprinkles many a misanthropic, charmless monologues in between, and ends by throwing off his robe and mooning the audience before he leaves the stage. (Yes, you see Adam’s ass within the film’s first twenty minutes, and we’re just warming up from there.) His one-man performances demonstrate his egocentrism, penchant for lowbrow and often offensive humor, and the fact that this character has thus far profited from indulging in and acting out his base vulgarities.

While never demonstrating any abundance of good taste, his shows teeter firmly towards the grotesque and unsanctionable as his marriage and mental health deteriorate. This is what I’m referring to when I described the film as a study in discomfiture. As he deteriorates, the later iterations of his stand-up show become utterly unsettling and at times revolting. The film could show mercy and stop at one to two minutes of his more deranged antics, but instead subjects you to a protracted display of just how insane this man might possibly be. In Adam’s hands, these excessive, indulgent performance scenes take on disturbing but intriguing ambiguity, as you again wonder where the performance ends and the real man begins. When Henry confesses to a crime during his show and launces into an elaborate, passionate reenactment on stage, you shift uncomfortably in your seat wondering how much of it might just be true. Wondering just how much of an animal this man truly is.

Watching this film as an Adam fan, these scenes are unparalleled displays of his range and prowess. He’s in turns amusing and revolting; intolerable and pathetic; but always, always riveting. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that for the casual, non Adam-obsessed viewer, the effect of these scenes might stop at crass and unappealing. But in terms of the sheer range and power of acting on display? These scenes are a damn marvel. Through these scenes alone, his performance largely imbues the film with its wild, primal, and vaguely menacing atmosphere.

His stand-up scenes were, to me, some of the most intense of the film – sometimes downright difficult to endure. But they’re only a microcosm of the R A N G E he exhibits throughout the film’s entirety. Let’s talk about how he’s animalistic, menacing, and genuinely unsettling to watch (Leos Carax described him as “feline” at some point, and I 100% see it); and then with a mere subtle twitch of his expression, sheen of his eyes, or slump of his shoulders, he’s suddenly a lost, broken thing.  

Henry McHenry is truly to be reviled. Twitter might as well spare their breath and announce he’s already cancelled. He towers above the rest of the cast with intimidating, predatory physicality; he is prone to indulgence in his vices; and he constantly seems at risk of releasing some wild, uncontrollable madness lingering just beneath his surface. But as we all well know, Adam has an unerring talent for lending pathos to even the most objectively condemnable characters.

In a repeated refrain during his first comedy show, the audience keeps asking him, “Why did you become a comedian?” He dodges the question or gives sarcastic answers, until finally circling back to the true answer later in the film. It was something to the effect of: “To disarm people. It’s the only way I can tell the truth without it killing me.” Even for all their sick spectacle, there are also moments in his stand-up shows of disarming vulnerability and (seeming) honesty. In a similar moment of personal exposition, he confesses his temptation and “sympathy for the abyss.” (This phrase is hands down my favorite of the film.) He repeatedly refers to his struggle against “the abyss” and, at the same time, his perceived helplessness against it. “There’s so little I can do, there’s so little I can do,” he sings repeatedly throughout the film - usually just after doing something horrific.

Had he been played by anyone else, the first full look of him warming up before his show - hopping in place and punching the air like some wannabe boxer, interspersing puffs of his cigarette with chowing down on a banana – would have been enough for me to swear him off. His archetype is something of a cliché at this point – a brusque, boorish man who can’t stomach or preserve the love of others due to his own self-loathing. There were multiple points when it was only Adam’s face beneath the character that kept my heart cracked open to him. But sure enough, he wedged his fingers into that tiny crack and pried it wide open. The film’s final few scenes show him at his chin-wobbling best as he crumbles apart in small, mournful subtleties.

(General, semi-spoiler ahead as to the tone of the film’s ending – skip this paragraph if you’d rather avoid.) For a film that professes not to take itself very seriously (how else am I supposed to interpret the freaky puppet baby?), it delivers a harsh, unforgiving ending to its main character. And sure enough, despite how much I might have wanted to distance myself and believe it was only what he deserved, I found myself right there with him, sharing his pain. It is solely testament to Adam’s tireless dedication to breathing both gritty realism and stubborn beauty into his characters that Henry sank a hook into some piece of my sympathy.

Not only does Adam have to be the only actor capable of imbuing Henry with humanity despite his manifold wrongs, he also has to be the only actor capable of the wide-ranging transformations demanded of the role. He starts the movie with long hair and his full refrigerator brick house physique. His physicality and size are actively leveraged to engender a sense of disquiet and unpredictability through his presence. He appears in turns tormented and tormentor. There were moments when I found myself thinking of Conan the Barbarian, simply because his physical presence radiates such wild, primal energy (especially next to tiny, dainty Marion and especially with that long hair). Cannot emphasize enough: The raw sex appeal is off the goddamn charts and had me – a veteran fangirl of 3+ years - shook to my damn core.

The film’s progression then ages him – his hair cut shorter and his face and physique gradually becoming more gaunt. By the film’s end, he has facial prosthetics to make him seem even more stark and borderline sickly – a mirror of his growing internal torment. From a muscular, swaggering powerhouse, he pales and shrinks to a shell of a man, unraveling as his face becomes nearly deformed by time and guilt. He is in turns beautiful and grotesque; sensual and repulsive. I know of no other actor whose face (and its accompanying capacity for expressiveness) could lend itself to such stunning versatility.

Quick note here that he was given a reddish-brown birthmark on the right side of his face for this film?? It becomes more prominent once his hair is shorter in the film’s second half. I’m guessing it was Leos’ idea to make his face even more distinctive and riveting? If so, joke’s on you, Mr. Carax, because we’re always riveted. ☺

I mentioned way up at the beginning that the film is bookended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character, and between reality and performance. This comes full circle at the film’s end, with Henry’s final spoken words (this doesn’t give any plot away but skip to the next paragraph if you would rather avoid!) being “Stop watching me.” That’s it. The show is over. He has told his last joke, played out his final act, and now he’s done living his life as a source of cheap, unprincipled laughs and thrills for spectators. The curtain closes with a resounding silence.

Now, I definitely won’t have a section where I talk (of course) about the Ben Solo parallels. He’s haunted by an “abyss” aka darkness inside of him? Bad things happened when he finally gave in and stared into that darkness he knew lived within him? As a result of those tragedies, (SPOILER – Skip to next paragraph to avoid) he then finds himself alone and with no one to love or be loved by? NO I’M DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL, I’M JUST FINE HERE UNDER MY MOUNTAINS OF TISSUES.

Let’s talk about the music! The film definitely clocks in closer to a rock opera than musical, because almost the entire thing is conveyed through ongoing song, rather than self-contained musical numbers appearing here and there. This actually helps the film’s continuity and pacing, by keeping the characters perpetually in this suspended state of absurdity, always propelled along by some beat or melody. Whenever the film seems on the precipice of tipping all the way into the bleak and dark, the next whimsical tune kicks in to reel us all blessedly back. For example, after (SPOILER #1) happens, there’s a hard cut to the bright police station where several officers gather around Henry, bopping about and chattering on the beat “Questions! We have a few questions!”

Adam integrates his singing into his performance in such a way that it seems organic. I realized after the film that I never consciously considered the quality of his singing along the way. For all that I talked about the film maintaining the atmosphere of a fourth wall-defying performance piece, Adam’s singing is so fully immersed in the embodiment of his character that you almost forget he’s singing. Rather, this is simply how Henry McHenry exists. His stand-up scenes are the only ones in the film that do frequently transition back and forth between speaking and singing, but it’s seamlessly par for the course in Henry’s bizarre, dour show. He breaks into his standard “Now laugh!” number with uninterrupted sarcasm and contempt. There were certainly a few soft, poignant moments when his voice warbled in a tender vibrato you couldn’t help noticing – but otherwise, the singing was simply an extension of that full-body persona he manages to convey with such apparent ease and naturalism.

On the music itself: I’ll admit that the brief clip of “We Love Each Other So Much” we got a few weeks ago made me a tad nervous. It seemed so cheesy and ridiculous? But okay, you really can’t take anything from this movie out of context. Otherwise it is, indeed, utterly ridiculous. Not that none of it is ever ridiculous in context either, but I’m giving you assurances right now that it WORKS. Once you’re in the flow of constant singing and weirdness abound, the songs sweep you right along. Some of the songs lack a distinctive hook or melody and are moreso rhythmic vehicles for storytelling, but it’s now a day later and I still have three of the songs circulating pleasantly in my head. “We Love Each Other So Much” was actually the stand out for me and is now my favorite of the soundtrack. It’s reprised a few times later in the film, growing increasingly melancholy each time it is echoed, and it hits your heart a bit harder each time. The final song sung during (SPOILER #2), though without a distinctive melody to lodge in my head, undoubtedly left me far more moved than a spoken version of this scene would have. Adam’s singing is so painfully desperate and earnest here, and he takes the medium fully under his command.

Finally, it does have to be said that parts of this film veer fully towards the ridiculous and laughable. The initial baby version of the Annette puppet-doll was nothing short of horrifying to me. Annette gets more center-stage screen time in the film’s second half, which gives itself over to a few special effects sequences which look to be flying out at you straight from 2000 Windows Movie Maker. The scariest part is that it all seems intentional. The quality special effects appear when necessary (along with some unusual and captivating time lapse shots), which means the film’s most outrageous moments are fully in line with its guiding spirit. Its extravagant self-indulgence nearly borders on camp.

...And with that, I’ve covered the majority of the frantic notes I took for further reflection immediately after viewing. It’s now been a few days, and I’m looking forward to rewatching this movie when I can hopefully take it in a bit more fully. This time, I won’t just be struggling to keep up with the madness on screen. My concluding thoughts at this point: Is it my favorite Adam movie? Certainly not. Is it the most unforgettable? Aside from my holy text, The Last Jedi, likely yes. It really is the sort of thing you have to see twice to even believe it. And all in all, I say again that Adam truly carried this movie, and he fully inhabits even its highest, most ludicrous aspirations. He’s downright abhorrent in this film, and that’s exactly what makes him such a fucking legend.

I plan to make a separate post in the coming days about my experience at Cannes and the Annette red carpet, since a few people have asked! I can’t even express how damn good it feels to be globetrotting for Adam-related experiences again. <3

Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to ask me any further questions at all here or on Twitter! :)

*SYNOPSIS INCLUDED BELOW. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF AVOIDING SPOILERS!*

Synopsis: Comedian Henry McHenry and opera singer Ann Defrasnoux are both at the pinnacle of their respective success when they fall in love and marry. The marriage is happy and passionate for a time, leading to the birth of their (puppet) daughter, Annette. But tabloids and much of the world believe the crude, brutish Henry is a poor match for refined, idolized Ann. Ann and Henry themselves both begin to feel that something is amiss – Henry gradually losing his touch for his comedy craft, claiming that being in love is making him ill. He repeatedly and sardonically references how Ann’s opera career involves her “singing and dying” every night, to the point that he sees visions of her “dead” body on the stage. Meanwhile, Ann has a nightmare of multiple women accusing Henry of abusive and violent behavior towards them, and she begins growing wary in his presence. (He never acts abusively towards her, unless you count that scene when he tickles her feet and licks her toes while she’s telling him to stop??? Yeah I know, WILD.)

The growing sense of unease, that they’re both teetering on the brink of disaster, culminates in the most deranged of Henry’s stand-up comedy performances, when he gives a vivid reenactment of killing his wife by “tickling her to death.” The performance is so maudlin and unsettling that you wonder whether he’s not making it up at all, and the audience strongly rebukes him. (This is the “What is your problem?!” scene with tiddies out. The full version includes Adam storming across the stage, furiously singing/yelling, “What the FUCK is your problem?!”) But when Henry arrives home that night, drunk and raucous, Ann and Annette are both unharmed.

The couple take a trip on their boat, bringing Annette with them. The boat gets caught in a storm, and Henry drunkenly insists that he and Ann waltz in the storm. She protests that it’s too dangerous and begs him to see sense. (SPOILER #1) The boat lurches when Henry spins her, and Ann falls overboard to her death. Henry rescues Annette from the sinking boat and rows them both to shore. He promptly falls unconscious, and a ghost of Ann appears, proclaiming her intention to haunt Henry through Annette. Annette (still a toddler at this point and yes, still a wooden puppet) then develops a miraculous gift for singing, and Henry decides to take her on tour with performances around the world. He enlists the help of his “conductor friend,” who had been Ann’s accompanist and secretly had an affair with her before she met Henry.

Henry slides further into drunken debauchery as the tour progresses, while the Conductor looks after Annette and the two grow close. Once the tour concludes, the Conductor suggests to Henry that Annette might be his own daughter – revealing his prior affair with Ann. Terrified by the idea of anyone finding out and the possibility of losing his daughter, Henry drowns the Conductor in the pool behind his and Ann’s house. Annette sees the whole thing happen from her bedroom window.

Henry plans one last show for Annette, to be held in a massive stadium at the equivalent of the Super Bowl. But when Annette takes the stage, she refuses to sing. Instead, she speaks and accuses Henry of murder. (“Daddy kills people,” are the actual words – not that that was creepy to hear as this puppet’s first spoken words or anything.)

Henry stands trial, during which he sees an apparition of Ann from when they first met. They sing their regret that they can’t return to the happiness they once shared, until the apparition is replaced by Ann’s vengeful spirit, who promises to haunt Henry in prison. After his sentencing (it’s not clear what the sentence was, but Henry definitely isn’t going free), Annette is brought to see him once in prison. Speaking fully for the first time, she declares she can’t forgive her parents for using her: Henry for exploiting her voice for profit and Ann for presumably using her to take vengeance on Henry. (Yes, this is why she was an inanimate doll moving on strings up to this point – there was some meaning in that strange, strange artistic choice. She was the puppet of her parents’ respective egotisms.) The puppet of Annette is abruptly replaced by a real girl in this scene, finally enabling two-sided interaction and a long-missed genuine connection between her and Henry, which made this quite the emotional catharsis. (SPOILER #2) It concludes with Annette still unwilling to forgive or forget what her parents have done, and swearing never to sing again. She says Henry now has “no one to love.” He appeals, “Can’t I love you, Annette?” She replies, “No, not really.” Henry embraces her one last time before a guard takes her away and Henry is left alone.

…..Yes, that is the end. It left me with major emotional whiplash, after the whole film up to this point kept pulling itself back from the total bleak and dark by starting up a new toe-tapping, mildly silly tune every few minutes. But this last scene instead ends on a brutal note of harsh, unforgiving silence.

BUT! Make sure you stick around through the credits, when you see the cast walking through a forest together. (This is counterpart to the film’s opening, when you see the cast walking through LA singing “So May We Start?” directly to the audience) Definitely pay attention to catch Adam chasing/playing with the little girl actress who plays Annette! That imparts a much nicer feeling to leave the theater with. :’)

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 4 (Cowboy Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 4: The Party (Cowboy Path)

Pairing: Eli x reader

Content: Drinking, some angsty pining

Length: 2.4k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

The gala was as elaborate and ostentatious as you would expect of a formal event at the Imperial academy. It was like the whole ballroom shimmered as glasses of drinks were passed around and ornate dresses swished about in dance. You'd certainly never been a part of anything so grand from your home world before.

The sight made you pause as soon as you entered through the doors. It was breathtaking.

You let Thrawn guide you around the ballroom, barely registering his path as you took in all the shiny and expensive details around you. You were especially enchanted by the handful of couples circling around the dance floor, seemingly floating along with the music. You hadn't danced in so long... properly, anyway. Shimmying around your room in your underwear after a shower did not count.

"The music is quite pleasant," said Thrawn from beside you. For a moment, you forgot that part of the plan for the night was to substitute the names of your targets for other subjects, so any potential eavesdroppers would be none the wiser to your true intentions. Anything related to music was supposed to symbolize one half of the plan: Eva and Arden. But because you were so caught up in the spectacle around you, and your inner longing to genuinely engage with it all, you didn't immediately pick up on Thrawn's true meaning.

"It is," you said with just a hint of wistfulness. Your eyes happened to be watching one of the more gracefully dancing couples, the only signal to Thrawn that he needed to help you refocus.

He cleared his throat just loud enough to get your attention and then flicked his eyes toward the entrance of the ballroom meaningfully. You followed his gaze to see Eva and Arden had now arrived. Eli would be keeping an eye on them, while you and Thrawn would track Burdick. Your heart sunk as you were reminded, yet again, that you were not here for a good time. Tonight was about Thrawn's mission.

"Do you think Eli has noticed? The music?" you quickly supplied, hoping Thrawn wouldn't doubt your support.

"Yes, he seems to be enjoying it." Thrawn then looked to a different part of the room, where Eli was standing next to his date. Sadie. She was a tiny thing, with perfect proportions and well-styled hair and wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. You suddenly realized who she was, not having connected the dots before. She was in a few of your combat classes and had this weird habit of pumping her fist in victory every time she landed a good hit. You and Eli had made fun of her together. Why was he now going out with her?

"Yeah, he does..." you said absentmindedly as you watched your friend. Eli was making a show of casually looking around while really paying extra attention toward the couple by the entrance. But then Sadie linked her arm in his and looked up at him with a sweet smile, and he returned the gesture with a smile of his own. Your previous feelings of awe and fascination over this event were quickly turning into something much more sour.

"Did you also notice we have an assignment due soon?"

The comment from Thrawn made you blink away from the troubling scene in front of you. The Chiss had not been watching Eli, actually sticking to the plan and scanning the crowd for the other person of interest. Commander Burdick, who would be referred to by discussions of homework, another innocent topic. Thrawn had finally spotted him over by an hors d'oeuvre table.

"Thanks for the reminder," you muttered. A tray of drinks passed by, held aloft by a protocol droid, and you took the opportunity to swipe at one and down its contents in one go. You could see Thrawn eyeing you curiously from your peripheral, but you made it a point to not look back.

"Perhaps we should stand out of the way," said Thrawn, taking hold of your elbow and guiding you through the crowd and over to an area where several tall cocktail tables were set up. You set your empty glass on the surface of one of them and leaned restlessly against it. Your eyes kept wandering toward the commander as he munched furiously on some kind of cubed meat, glowering at all who passed by. Eventually you'd have to help make sure he was glowering at Arden long enough to maybe get some ideas, but right now, with the night only just beginning, there didn't seem to be much need for you to linger.

"This is a fun song. Maybe we could dance for a bit? Pass the time?" you asked, swirling your empty glass around in a bored manner.

Thrawn stared at you for a moment, most likely trying to determine if you were using the special code that you were supposed to or if you were actually talking about music and dancing.

"I think we should discuss the assignment that is due," he said, almost in a reprimanding tone. "It is rather important."

You swiped at another tray of drinks passing by, muttering over the rim of the glass, "Who goes to a party to talk about homework?"

You were being salty; you knew that. This mission was important and you cared about it. You cared about your friends and what this meant for them. But it seemed the more alcohol you took in, the more annoyed you grew toward those friends. Thrawn was such a stick in the mud, and Eli was apparently a big flirt. Was this really the best way to fix their problem? Was it really worth missing out on a fun evening?

Thrawn didn't seem too pleased as you downed your second drink in a matter of minutes. He cleared his throat in that way he did when he was about to lecture you. You cut him off before he got the chance.

"So what was that surprise you were talking about earlier?"

He blinked at you. "I never mentioned a surprise."

"Yeah. You said you didn't disappear, you were working on something, and that I'd see soon enough. Well? What should I be seeing?"

He reached across the table and gingerly took your empty glass from you with a frown. "You hadn't noticed? There is only one assignment."

It was your turn to blink at him. He sighed and jerked his head to where Burdick was still standing.

"I made sure his date would be delayed in arriving," he said very quietly; you almost couldn't hear him above the din of the party. "So he wouldn't be distracted."

You looked over at the Commander, not very subtle in your observation of him, so it was no surprise the man noticed your staring and frowned even more deeply.

The sound of your name caused you to snap back to Thrawn, who was circling the table to lean in closer. He seemed upset; or, as upset as Thrawn could ever seem through his calmness.

"If you have other things you wish to be doing, I would much rather you leave for them, instead of staying and causing problems." His voice was low in your ear. You sighed at his words, feeling bad for how you'd been behaving.

Just a little bit.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite student," came the voice of Commander Burdick. The man had apparently decided to come over after discovering you'd been staring at him, however, he was very clearly addressing Thrawn and not you. "I'm surprised you'd even come to an event like this."

"The Academy has provided a generous occasion tonight," Thrawn slipped out of his scolding of you and into his usual demeanor without missing a beat. "It would have been in bad taste for us to not attend."

Though it had been your staring that'd called him over, it was only when Thrawn referred to you collectively that Burdick finally acknowledged you. He gave a grunt as a sort of laugh.

"What about that scruffy little friend of yours? He doesn't care about taste?"

"Eli's here..." you heard yourself saying. You also felt Thrawn tensing beside you. You tried to give him a reassuring look as you turned to point out your friend behind you, moving about on the dance floor with Sadie. And just beside them was Eva and Arden, as you knew they would be. The two couples seemed to be trying to one-up each other with their dance moves. You quickly turned away so you wouldn't have to register how exciting and intimate it all was.

"So I see," Burdick hummed. You couldn't tell if he still had the same frown from before, or if it was a new one in response to seeing his ex with a student. "You're not a dancer, Thrawn?"

"Only when the mood strikes, sir."

"Well if you don't show your woman a good time, someone else will." Burdick took a step forward and held out a hand toward you. Your eyes grew wide, panicking. That was certainly unexpected.

Thrawn quickly, and smoothly, jumped to your defense.

"Sir, I'm afraid she is not feeling well. I have simply been keeping her company."

Burdick looked between the two of you, and then briefly beyond at the dance floor, before giving an odd smirk and retreating.

"Very well. Enjoy your... company."

The Commander turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. As you watched the back of his head, you couldn't help but wish you hadn't frozen and had accept his offer to dance. It was probably going to be the only offer you got all night.

"What... were... you... thinking..."

You looked over at Thrawn, surprised he was still upset. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes.

"Huh? I made sure he noticed Eva," you defended yourself. "He asked me to dance, probably to make her jealous, but since that's not happening, he'll be able to focus his revenge on Arden now."

"That is quite the assumption, based on absolutely no evidence."

"There is too evidence--"

"And apparently we've abandoned all secrecy and discretion, too. Might as well announce what we're planning to the whole ballroom while we're at it."

Thrawn's piercing eyes looked down on you, looking more like fire than they ever did. You bowed your head for a few seconds, needing to escape the heat and cool down.

"I'm sorry," you said, finally looking back at him. "I didn't mean to... mess up on the homework."

You offered what you hoped was an endearing smile. Thrawn only left you hanging for a second before he relaxed just a little.

"You did not mess up," he stated, returning to his side of the table and finally taking up the drink still left sitting there. "But perhaps you should just observe for the rest of the night."

And observe you did. The rest of the evening seemed to both pass by in a shimmering blur, and crawl forward at an unbearable pace. You observed couples dancing, laughing, even kissing. You observed how the energy of the ballroom shifted from eager liveliness to unhurried intimacy as time drew on. You observed the hors d'oeuvres dwindle and the champagne lose its bubbles and the lights dim ever-so-subtly.

Occasionally you actually observed the "homework," whenever he happened to pop out from the crowd. Thrawn did most of the note-taking, pointing out under muttered breath how the commander was still fixating on his ex, how his frown seemed to change from grumpiness and anger to determination and craftiness. Whatever that meant. You couldn't ever pretend to notice half the signs Thrawn did.

But most importantly, you observed a certain shaggy-haired boy from Wild Space.....

The way he danced, somewhat stiffly, but not as clumsy or awkward as one might expect from someone who couldn't figure out a tie.

The way he seemed to so effortlessly keep an eye on his despised classmate while still paying attention to his date and all her friends.

The way he casually hung out with her friends in between dances, as if he'd always been a part of their group.

The way he held her.

The way he looked at her.

At some point, you'd finished off your fifth glass of champagne, and you were definitely feeling the effects of it. That was what you were feeling, you told yourself. Your stomach was in knots and your brow was feeling warm and your heart was beating in your ears, all because of the alcohol. It didn't have anything to do with your guilt from upsetting Thrawn earlier, or the fact that even though Eli had nodded your way a few times in acknowledgement, he hadn't once come over to make good on his promise to save a dance for you. Nope. It was the alcohol and nothing else.

"Thrawn," you said quietly, breaking the Chiss's concentration on something-or-other across the way. "Do you mind if I call it a night? I'm pretty tired."

His eyes flickered over at the amount of empty glasses you had collected beside you, but he didn't comment on it. Only nodded in understanding and returned back to his mission.

You sighed as you picked your way through the crowd that remained. Quite a few students and teachers had already left for the night, but plenty still remained, and it baffled you just how many were hoping - and fighting - to earn to a place in the Empire.

And then something caught your eye just as you made to push through the doors and out into the night. One last thing to observe.

Eli and Sadie were swaying to the slow song playing, just off the actual dance floor. It was like they were in their own world. Her hands rested against his chest, and his chin laid atop her head, and they turned in slow circles as they rocked back and forth, holding each other close. When Eli's face finally turned toward your view, you swore your insides were threatening to crawl up your throat and spill out all over the shiny floor.

His face was relaxed, content. His lips were turned upward in a pleased sort of smile you'd only seen a few times on him before, usually after he'd told you a nice childhood memory, or after he finished a hearty meal. This wasn't an act; this had nothing to do with the mission or your purpose here at this dance. He was happy, holding her.

Just as his eyes wandered from whatever peaceful place they'd been resting and locked onto yours, you finally pushed through the door and left.

[blacklilyqueen]

Maybe tomorrow

Summary: Rex and Ahsoka both worry about each other after the war and desperately hope for a sign to know that the other is still alive.

Pairing: Rexsoka

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1849

Note: Based on this comic by @luoiae​

"Any news from Ahsoka, Wolffe?" "No."

Part of him had expected that answer, yet he hoped for some news from her. It didn't have to be much. Just a small token to let him know she was okay, that she was safe, that she was alive.

Rex hadn't heard from her since their escape a few months ago. At first, he thought she was just trying to maintain a low profile. Messages could be intercepted and right now it was important that he, and especially she, stayed out of sight. And even though that thought was somewhat comforting, he always wondered if something bad had happened to her.

He wished he could have contacted her, but for their safety, they both thought it would be the best if he didn't know her exact location. His days were filled with as many chores as possible, hoping it might distract him from his worries. But every night, when he closed his eyes and nothing else remained to occupy him, he would see her in front of him. Sometimes everything was peaceful. She just stood there looking at him with that beautiful smile. Her eyes shone with joy and it was as if nothing could destroy that moment.

However, there were other nights. Nights when he woke up from sleep with his eyes wide open and his heart racing. His mind plagued by images of Ahsoka, covered in blood and in captivity. He saw the Emperor’s Inquisitors torturing her. Heard her screams. Had to watch her die slowly but surely. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He had such a dream that night and like every time he had hoped for a message from her to make sure she was alright. Almost every day he asked Wolffe if he had heard from her and day after day he was disappointed. He left the former clone commander behind and returned to his daily distractions.

Maybe tomorrow he would hear from her.

 "Hey, Rex. I hope you're all safe."

Although there were a thousand things she wanted to say to him and tell him about, that was all she said. For months she had tried to contact him over and over again, but he never answered any of her transmissions. So it happened that she didn't produce more than that one sentence, because at that moment all the other things didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he was safe.

More and more often she caught herself worrying about him. What if the Empire found out he was alive? What if they knew he had helped her escape? It would be his death sentence.

But maybe he just cared about her and was afraid to answer her. Over the past few months, she had increasingly tried to convinced herself that it must be because of that. Although this thought gave her a little comfort, she still wanted certainty.

Maybe he would answer tomorrow.

 "She still hasn't...?" "No."

"I see," the words hardly seemed to leave his mouth. He stood with his back to Wolffe and now turned his head away again. His muscles tensed a little at Wolffe's answer and his fingernails dug into his palm even though he didn't realize it. He was about to leave when Wolffe said something else:

"She's not dead. If she were, we'd know it. The Empire tends to make a big spectacle out of the death of a Jedi."

Rex knew he was right. He also knew Wolffe only meant well, yet it was anything but reassuring. The thought of Ahsoka's death plagued him enough as it was, now saying it out loud didn't make it any better. Three years was an extremely long time when you don’t know if the other person is still alive or not. He fervently hoped so, but his doubts grew with each passing day.

He turned his head once again in his brother's direction and gave him a small nod. He didn’t have enough strength for more. He left the room and went to the small cabin that the three clones shared for sleeping. Since Gregor was exploring, Rex had a moment of peace to himself. The door closed and so did Rex's eyes. He took one deep breath and as he exhaled, he slammed his hand, still clenched into a fist, against the wall next to him with all his strength.

He ignored the pain in his hand as his knees gave way and he slowly went down. His back was now leaning against the wall he had just punched. He angled his legs, propped his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his hands. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as his heart seemed to contract further and further. When he lifted his face, he ran his right hand over his short hair, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

She's not dead. She is not dead. She is not dead.

Over and over again he repeated the words in his head. As his whole body focused on that thought, he slowly calmed down. His breathing was back to normal, the pain in his chest lessened, and his muscles began to relax.

She’d contact him tomorrow.

Yes, he was sure she would. Wolffe was right. If she were dead, he would know. He shouldn't worry. Soon he would hear her voice again, assuring him that she was alive. He tried to hold on to that thought, but part of his mind wouldn't give him that peace, and so a second thought mixed in.

There are things much worse than death.

No. She was fine. She would call tomorrow. She had to call tomorrow. Because he didn't know what to do if she wouldn’t.

 "It's been a while. I hope you're okay."

Even Ahsoka could hear how weak her voice sounded. It had been too long since she had last seen Rex. Her mind kept wandering back to that day. She shouldn't have left him. She should have stayed. Every time she left, she lost the people who mattered most to her. It was like she was abandoning everyone she cared about.

Rex, Anakin, Obi Wan, the 501st, the Order, she had abandoned them all more than once and she had lost them all. But this time there was no going back. The Jedi Order was past, Anakin and Obi Wan were dead, only Rex was left. At least, that's what she hoped. She couldn't possibly admit to herself that the last person who represented a connection to her former life had just disappeared like that.

Again and again she thought about flying to him to make sure he was okay. But she could not risk putting him in danger. No matter if someone followed her or if they clashed with the Empire on the ground, she could not let him die because of her. And he would if they were seen together.

"Please contact me. Please. Please. Please."

The connection had been broken for a long time, so she spoke only to herself. He would get back to her tomorrow. She clung to that thought as tightly as she could. Yes, he most certainly would.

“…” “Still nothing.”

He didn't even have to say anything anymore. It had been 14 years, and yet Rex asked the same question every day. There was a time when the uncertainty had made him angry, but not anymore. Where anger used to be there was now a great emptiness now. He had grown accustomed to taking no for an answer. When you expected nothing, you couldn't be disappointed, but hopelessness hurt just as much and Rex couldn't tell which pain was worse.

For a time he thought it would be the best to accept that she was dead. If it were true, he wouldn't have to worry every day about the unknown. And if it were false, he would be even more relieved should she come to him after all. But he was so wrong. Day after day he had reproached himself for declaring her dead just like that. How could he ever look her in the eye and tell her that he had simply given up on her? He couldn't do that to her and he couldn't do that to himself.

So every day he lived with the pain of hope that would probably never be fulfilled. And with each passing day, that hope dwindled bit by bit. He could never bring himself to fully acknowledge her death, but he knew that he would probably never hear her voice again, never see her face again, and never touch her body again.

Despite the daily disappointment, a part of him whispered to him, as it had every day for the past 14 years: maybe tomorrow.

 "I hope you're still alive."

Ahsoka tried to suppress the tremor in her voice. But it didn't help and she felt her voice break on the last word. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and clouded her vision.

All these years she had convinced herself that there must have been a reasonable reason why he didn't answer. Had convinced herself that he must still be alive, but now she was no longer sure. The horrible truth she had recently learned made her doubt his safety.

The feeling of Anakin's presence in the Force surrounded by icy coldness, which held him captive and had completely taken possession of him, wouldn’t let go of her. She did not want to believe it, but it had to be true. Anakin was Vader, and once she admitted that to herself, all her hopes that her old friends were still alive were dashed.

She knew how obsessed Anakin could be, and if he really had turned to the Dark Side, he certainly wouldn't let up in pursuit of his goals. If he knew Rex was still alive and that he had helped her escape, that he had disobeyed the Order 66 and sided with the Jedi, Vader would kill him without hesitation.

The only thing that gave her a little hope was that her old master had thought her dead, and hopefully the same was true for Rex. He certainly wouldn't have wasted time looking for a single clone who was presumed dead. But if Vader had even the slightest suspicion that one of them might still be alive and rebelling against him and the Empire, it would have been a sure death sentence.

But if Vader had really found Rex and learned that his inhibitor chip had been removed, he would have expected Ahsoka to still be alive. Yes, that's how it had to be. So Vader couldn't have known about Rex. Normally this should be good news, but even without the danger from Vader, there were a thousand other things that could have killed Rex. But she didn't want to think about that. Kanan, Ezra and the others would surely find him soon and then they would meet again.

But a small voice in her head whispered: Maybe tomorrow…but maybe never.

[maddogofshimano]

Dojima Yayoi Character Story

The acting 5th Chairman herself, Yayoi!

Despite wielding a sword, she’s actually a defense unit in game. RGGO unfortunately sticks women in any role except offense almost universally, Miss Tatsu is one of the very few exceptions to that. Even characters like Nair and Kaoru are usually support units! It’s pretty lame.

Summary: Set following Terada’s death and Kiryu’s first talk with Daigo, we find Yayoi learning about the machinations of the Omi. Kashiwagi has a plan to pull the Tojo Clan back together, but he’s going to need the right person to take charge, and Yayoi has an opinion on who that should be.

2006, 5 years after Dojima Daigo was arrested for violating the firearms and sword laws after travelling to Osaka to face Goda Ryuji

Daigo, who was expelled from the family, was abandoned by his previous cronies and has fallen to excessive drinking. 

Daigo continues to order drinks. Yayoi finds him in the club and approaches.

Daigo wants to know why she’s here. She wants to know when he’s going to knock it off and how long he intends to live like this. The man who commited that murder wasn’t Kiryu... but Daigo already knows that, doesn’t he. Kiryu must have asked Daigo to help the Tojo Clan, so he ran off to get himself wasted, right?

 Daigo, being accurately called out, doesn’t want to talk to Yayoi, and says she should leave. It’s none of her concern. She says that of course it’s her concern, she’s his mother.  

Daigo snaps back that now she wants to act like a mom?

Daigo leaves without another word.

She follows him into the street, but he’s already gone. She reflects on what he said, he’s never said something to her like that before. For a long time now, she and that other person’s work with the family must have made Daigo terribly lonely. (Tl note: really vague on who that other person is! I would assume Dojima Sohei, but it would be very interesting for her to think of him as “that other person” instead of her husband or ex-husband)

Right now that child simply won’t listen to her. Kiryu though... she wonders what he can do.

She’s interrupted by some jackass trying to hit on her.

She tells him to scram, she’s not in the mood to deal with this. He attacks, because he is a goon. She tells him not to complain if he dies.

<They fight, she trounces him>

The goon starts screaming for help, that she’s a murderer. Yayoi knows better than to stick around, and leaves, still wondering what to do about Daigo. She hears something and sees none other than........

Kashiwagi! 

He’s bleeding from his chest! She’ll do first aid, but he needs to get to a hospital ASAP. Kashiwagi claims that he’s fine, really! Sorry about this, ma’am... ugh...!

She asks what happened, Kashiwagi explains that he was attacked by an Omi Alliance assassin. Yayoi is shocked to hear it’s the Omi!

<Part 2>

Yayoi wants to know what Kashiwagi is talking about. He explains that the Omi have been attacking, first targeting the 5th Chairman, Terada. They got him into an ambulance, but he still died. Yayoi is shocked. Kashiwagi says that the main branch is working overtime to handle this. 

He was actually looking for Yayoi regarding that. Unfortunately, the hitman attacked him in the middle of his search, leading to this sorry spectacle. The Omi might be trying to crush everyone.

Yayoi has a grasp on the situation now, but asks why Kashiwagi is coming to her with this. He tells her he has a plan he’d like to discuss. Unfortunately they’re interrupted by goons bursting in, shouting that they found Kashiwagi.

Yayoi asks if these are the hitmen that got him. He confirms it, they stabbed him out of nowhere. The goons say they’re going to do a lot more than that this time!

<They fight>

Yayoi is winning, and Kazama Family boys arrive to chase them off. One of the boys asks if Kashiwagi is alright, he says he’ll be fine, and tells the man not to ignite this powder keg into an all out war. 

Yayoi and Kashiwagi head to a familiar bar to discuss this plan that Kashiwagi has, since it’s too dangerous to remain out in the street.

Kashiwagi: ...I’ll cut straight to the point. I want Daigo to be the acting 5th Chairman.

Yayoi: Daigo as acting chairman...!? Kashiwagi: ...Yes. Yayoi: You... You’d paint a target on Daigo’s back like that...!? Kashiwagi: ...I recognize the seriousness. But with the 5th chairman dead and myself as acting captain having been wounded... Leaving the main branch without a head is signing the whole clan’s death warrant.  Yayoi: ...I understand what you’re saying, but to put that burden on Daigo... Kashiwagi: Right now the Tojo Clan is shaken. The Omi won’t wait around for us to resolve this.  Kashiwagi: We need to get ourselves unified as soon as possible. To do that, we need someone suitable to lead us.  Kashiwagi: It pains me to say this, but I see no other option.

Kashiwagi says that he thinks Daigo is the kind of person who could pull the Tojo Clan back together. He knows that it’s not something Yayoi wants to hear, but he hopes that she understands. She does, but she has one suggestion, if he’ll listen.

<Part 3>

Kashiwagi asks if this is really okay?

Yes, she’s not going back on what she said. Kashiwagi understands. Yayoi asks if they can make one minor detour first.

Back at the club Daigo is barking at staff to get him more booze. 

The staff are very politely trying to cut him off. Thankfully Yayoi and Kashiwagi arrive, though Daigo is not thrilled to see them and wants to know why they’re here. Yayoi says she has something to tell Daigo, Daigo says he doesn’t want to hear anything, Kashiwagi tells him he better watch his mouth. 

Daigo tells him to shut up and that he doesn’t want to be involved with anything. Mouthing off to Kashiwagi was apparently the final straw--Yayoi knocks Daigo to the floor.

Yayoi: You can stay out of this, Kashiwagi. Manager, sorry, this will get a little violent.

Yayoi: Stand up Daigo. I’m not telling you something as your parent.  Yayoi: I’m just angry at the dumbass who’s drinking by himself instead of having the guts to stand up during a time like this. Daigo: ...Don’t give me that crap! Yayoi: Then let me see you grit those teeth!! <They fight, Daigo loses>

Yayoi: Moron. You’re so drunk that you can’t even walk straight. Yayoi: ............Daigo, Terada is dead. Daigo: .......... Yayoi: The omi are attacking. ...It might even turn into a war. Daigo: ....So what. Did you come here to tell me to go back to the clan? Yayoi: ....I’m going to become the acting chairman. That’s what I came here to tell you. Daigo: Acting chairman....!? Are you serious!? Yayoi: Yes, starting now I’ll be replacing Terada. I’ll get the Tojo Clan in order.  Daigo: What the hell are you thinking!? Have you lost your mind... Yayoi: ...Of course I know the dangers of the position. But It’s what must be done. Otherwise... Daigo: You...　The lengths you’ll go to for the clan. Yayoi: ......Daigo. Ever since I became that man’s wife, I’ve been prepared for this. Yayoi: Right now... it’s the time. Daigo: Ghh!! Yayoi: ...That’s all I came here to say. Yayoi: Let’s go, Kashiwagi. Kashiwagi: ...Yes ma’am. They leave and Yayoi is quiet. Kashiwagi asks if she’s alright. That was a lot to talk to Daigo about. She says she’s fine, and thinks back to the conversation they had in the bar.

She put forward that she wants to be the acting chairman. Kashiwagi is stunned. 

Yayoi: Do I lack the ability for it? Kashiwagi: No, everyone knows that the Dojima Family only made it’s rapid climb thanks to you. You’ve got a large base of support, and the perfect qualities for a leader. I have no objections.  Kashiwagi: ...Will it really be okay though?  Yayoi: I also think Daigo has the capability to carry the Tojo Clan on his back. Yayoi: But right now, that kid is a little... I’m worried that he doesn’t have enough time to get his feet back under him. Yayoi: Helping him do that should really be something I do as his mother. However, I’m no good at that. Yayoi: So... I wants to offer up my life to buy him the time he needs. (Tl note: the literal phrase here is “burn up [her life]” which is metal as hell) Yayoi: That’s what I can do to become the kind of parent who gives things to her child.  Kashiwagi: ............. Ma’am.....

<cut back to present> Kashiwagi: ...Tactless people. Daigo, and you both, ma’am. Yayoi: Heh... That man was too. Yayoi: Well, let’s get going, shall we? The main branch is big, right? I’ll need to decide on our new policies soon. Yayoi: ...I’m counting on you. Kashiwagi. Kashiwagi: Yes ma’am. I, your humble servant Kashiwagi, shall do my utmost to protect you. ...Acting fifth chairman!

<END>

bonus time: At several points Kashiwagi sort of belatedly added in the proper titles for Yayoi, including that last line. It wasn’t easy to fit in for the most part, so I didn’t try to force it.

I really love that this means that Daigo took another loss during Y2, this time his mom went and kicked his ass. Also interesting that Yayoi really did mean Dojima Sohei all those times she referred to “that man”, there’s probably a lot that can be read into that.

Also, eat your heart out Yayoi/Kashiwagi fans.

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Alienist. By Caleb Carr. New York: Random House, 1994.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction, mystery, suspense

Part of a Series? Yes, The Kreizler Series #1

Summary:   The year is 1896. The city is New York. Newspaper reporter John Schuyler Moore is summoned by his friend Dr. Laszlo Kreizler—a psychologist, or “alienist”—to view the horribly mutilated body of an adolescent boy abandoned on the unfinished Williamsburg Bridge. From there the two embark on a revolutionary effort in criminology: creating a psychological profile of the perpetrator based on the details of his crimes. Their dangerous quest takes them into the tortured past and twisted mind of a murderer who will kill again before their hunt is over.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: ableism, homophobia/transphobia, racism (including slurs), sexism, rape, abuse, child abuse and sexual assault, child prostitution, animal cruelty, blood, gore, violence

Overview: This book has been on my TBR list for a while, so I figured I’d finally get around to reading it. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was actually surprised by how much I enjoyed the reading experience. Carr writes in a way that pretty closely imitates 19th century detective fiction, and while such a style might not be for everyone, I thought it went a long way in creating atmosphere. My criticisms have mostly to do with pace and the creative decisions that probably didn’t have to be made (such as depictions of child sexual assault, use of slurs, etc), but even with those faults, I have to give Carr’s craft and research a lot of credit, so this book gets 4 stars from me.

Writing: As I mentioned above, this book mimics detective fiction of the 19th century. If you’ve read any of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, you might get the idea: first person, characters displaying almost whimsical behavior, stuffed with contextual details that may or may not be relevant. At first, I thought the reading experience was going to be a slog, but once I realized what Carr was trying to do, I readjusted my expectations and found the prose to be quite engaging. If you like 19th century literature, you might appreciate what Carr does, but if you find older lit to be a challenge, this book might not be the thriller you’re hoping for.

That being said, I do think there were some areas where Carr could have picked up the pace or even cut some of the contextual details. It’s obvious that Carr did a lot of research before writing this book, and it’s understandable that he would want to show off some of that research, but there were times where I felt like it was a little much.

I also think there are a lot of things in this book that will offend modern sensibilities. I recall at least one use of the N-word (which is spoken by a racist minor character) as well as remarks that make it clear that characters think same-sex intimacy is “deviant” or abhorrent. I can understand why Carr put them in his book; if we’re trying to evoke an atmosphere and make the story feel like it’s set in the 19th century, it’s not realistic to expect everyone to be accepting of gay sex or treat POC with respect. But also, I think it’s on Carr to bear the responsibility of creating plot points and characters that have those attitudes in the first place. The character who uses the N-word could have easily not done so, and characters could have been more clear that their revulsion was at child prostitution rather than same-sex relationships.

Still, I was able to follow the plot with no problem and the sentences flowed in a way that made the reading experience feel quick (no 10-line sentences, thank god). So while there may be some things I would have liked to see adjusted to fit my own tastes, I think Carr did a wonderful job of making me feel like I was reading an older work.

Plot: The plot of this book follows a group of investigators as they try to use psychology to catch a serial killer. As far as being an “original” or unique thriller, this book doesn’t necessarily deliver a plot we haven’t seen before; but what made it so interesting (at least to me) was that it was less interested in the thrill of catching the killer and more interested in thinking through the “whys.” Why did the killer do X? Why did he do Y and Z when he could have done A or B? In this sense, the suspense doesn’t come from the action or the “chase,” but from the building of ideas and a foggy picture becoming more and more clear.

If I can fault Carr for anything, it’s that I think he crafted his mystery around some subjects that are... touchy (for lack of a better word). Most of the murder victims are children - specifically child prostitutes - and a lot of the killer’s motivations are rooted in some combination of racism and exposure to abuse. If you’re looking for a book which handles these issues with sensitivity, I think you’ll be disappointed. But I have to give Carr some credit for not overly sensationalizing these things; for example, while he did include characters who were racist towards Native Americans, he also included characters who were sympathetic and who insisted on not judging tribes for their defensive violence. Not everything is perfect, and there were some moments that made me uncomfortable, but I felt like Carr painted a complex picture of 19th century America, so I was able to keep going.

Characters: The plot of this book is told from the perspective of John Schuyler Moore - a newspaper reporter who teams up with his friend, eminent psychologist Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, to catch a serial killer. As a protagonist, Moore isn’t overly compelling - he’s more like a neutral, blank slate that the reader can project themselves onto. He serves much of the same function as Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories: to be a witness to other characters’ brilliance while occasionally making some helpful insights. Still, I didn’t outright hate Moore - he was kind and loyal, and I admired how he went out of his way to try to help people.

Kreizler, the psychologist (or “alienist” as they were called in those days), is somewhat of a Sherlockian character in that he’s eccentric, confident, and had abilities that stun the people around him. For the most part, Kreizler was fun to follow. I think the only times I got truly frustrated with him were when he would allude to some knowledge and then leave Moore in the dark - like “aha! This thing is obvious!” “What thing?” “No time to explain! I’ll tell you at dinner!” Those moments were a little irritating.

Sarah, the most prominent female character, was more complex than I expected her to be. She has clear career aspirations and doesn’t let anyone hold her back, and I liked that she was presented as this kick-ass woman who still felt human. She struggles when faced with the horrors of the murder, but she doesn’t let the horror put her off of her task. She’s confident and never seems to have a moment of self-doubt (which is refreshing). She notices interpersonal things without being boxed in as “the woman who notices emotions.” Granted, Sarah does serve some token function - she’s brought on in order to provide a “female perspective,” which was a little frustrating, but she held her own so well that my annoyance melted away.

Marcus and Lucius, the two brothers who work for the police department, are also quite charming characters. I loved how they brought technical expertise to the group by being knowledgeable about anatomy, fingerprints, photography, and the like, and I especially enjoyed the way they bickered with one another. Their presence immediately made scenes feel lighter, and they brought something of a family aspect to the whole band.

Supporting characters were well-crafted in that no two felt quite the same. Teddy Roosevelt (yes, that one) was cheerful and warm while still demanding absolute cooperation and loyalty from his men. Cyrus and Stevie - two of Kreizler’s employees - were charming, though I wish Cyrus had gotten to do more than just kind of silently stand by awaiting orders. Mary - Kreizler’s maid - was a lovely character, and I appreciated the positive disability representation we got with her, though I do not like how her character arc ended and how it related to the main plot. The crime bosses were intimidating without feeling too much like stock characters, the thugs did their job. I don’t think there was a character that was poorly written, just characters who served purposes that may or may not have been needed.

As for the murderer... we don’t get to see him very much, but I felt like I got to know him because so much of the book was focused on mapping out his life and psychology. It worked much better than books where the antagonist is looming off to the side, acting as a vaguely threatening force but not really a character, and one that doesn’t even show up until the last quarter of the book. When the killer finally does appear on page, I felt like he had been involved in the story, even without being physically present, so I was able to accept him as an active force on the narrative, not just a surprise twist at the end.

TL;DR: The Alienist is a well-crafted mystery that uses atmosphere and psychology to create an engaging mystery. While some readers may struggle with the period-like prose or the more disturbing aspects of the story, Carr creates a compelling narrative by focusing on understanding and knowledge over spectacle and action, and by using well-developed characters.

[underfell-crystal]

Item #: SCP-4885

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Currently, it is only theorized that SCP-4885 is contained. To further elaborate, SCP-4885 is contained within an unknown Class-17 Containment Chamber in an unknown site. In the event that SCP-4885 breaches containment, Procedure Invenient Eum is to be enacted, which consists of the following procedures:

Thirty six Class-17 Containment Chambers are to be connected to an independent self-driving vehicle. At all times, 216 inactive Containment Chambers are to be readily available in case of sudden and unforeseen breach of SCP-4885's containment.

One D-Class subject of stable mental health is to be submitted into the vehicle, and driven into the system. A cryptographically secure pseudorandom number generator is to choose a random number between one and thirty-six, and the vehicle is to be transported to a Containment Chamber based on the number chosen.

Each Containment Chamber has a single digital monitor that is capable of outputting video at 720p resolution. Once a D-Class subject is transported to a random chamber, a message is to be sent to every monitor simultaneously. This message consists of the current location of SCP-4885, delivered via an implanted tracking device. The GPS is only accessible by Level 5 Personnel or SCP-4885 containment staff on a need to know basis.

After approximately two hours, each containment chamber is to be transported to a randomly designated Foundation site via self-driving trucks. The trucks are to be disguised as a packaging service in order to prevent suspicion. In the event an accident occurs during this stage, Procedure Invenient Eum is to be enacted again.

No personnel who are aware of SCP-4885's existence are to go within 100 meters of any Class-17 Containment Chamber. Several signs and warnings have been placed around each chamber, labeling it as a water treatment room, and that attempted access is punishable by immediate amnestication and loss of employment as decided by the Ethics Committee.

These warnings tell personnel to report to a nearby Automated Site Overseer of any leaks from the chamber, in which the person will be visually amnesticized by the Overseer, and Procedure Invenient Eum will be reenacted. For more information regarding the composition of Class-17 Containment Chambers, please consult Document 7631.00.

Currently, SCP-4885-1 instances that are located via far2.AIC are contained within Location i. The whereabouts of Location i is only known to far2.AIC. Currently, far2.AIC is connected to 80% of CCTV security cameras within the United States, and 40% of total CCTV security cameras on Earth.

SCP-4885-1 instances discovered by far2.AIC will have specialized Foundation carrier drones to be dispatched and attempt to grab the body, and carry it to Location i, using routes that minimize the chance of unwanted civilian interference. In the event that a civilian notices a drone and SCP-4885 breaches containment, the drone will send an "All Alert" message to SCP-4885's containment team, and Procedure Invenient Eum will be enacted.

In the event that Location i's whereabouts are discovered at large, the next personnel located within Document PAINT-THE-TOWN-YELLOW will establish the next Location i, and their immediate family will be notified of their death.

Description: SCP-4885 is an anomalous humanoid resembling the main character of the popular series of puzzle books "Where's Wally?" (known in the US as "Where's Waldo?"). This entails that SCP-4885 wears a horizontal red and white striped shirt, a red and white bobble hat, and jeans. However, a noticeable difference in appearance from the character is the entity's paler skin and the lack of eyes.

In the event that a subject knows of SCP-4885's current location at any given time1, SCP-4885 will move to the nearest wall and begin to "phase" into it. SCP-4885 will appear inside of the subject, and will reach up the esophagus and grab the subject's chin through their mouth.

SCP-4885 will then proceed to pull themselves through the subject, destroying their internal organs and their spine. Once this has occurred, a yellow liquid will exit the corpse's mouth and will cover the subject entirely, which causes it to become an SCP-4885-1 instance. SCP-4885 will remain in its current location, occasionally patrolling the area, until another person discovers its location once again.

However, if SCP-4885 is close enough to the subject when they discover its location, they will instead approach the subject, attempt to climb into the subject's mouth, enter their abdomen and exit their body through the subject's pelvis. During this time, SCP-4885 can easily dislocate/relocate any joint in its body, and its skin and muscles will gain the consistency of a malleable solid, allowing it to easily climb into and out of the subject.

SCP-4885-1 instances are anomalous corpses that were created by SCP-4885. The entire body of an SCP-4885-1 instance is covered in illustrations similar to those found in Where's Wally? books, with many different characters appearing on the instance's skin. These illustrations originate from the liquid that exits the corpses' mouth. Currently, no instances of the cartoon character "Wally" have been found on an SCP-4885-1 instance. These illustrations cannot be removed from the subject unless the skin it is placed on is removed.

If a subject knows the location of any given SCP-4885-1 instance, SCP-4885 will teleport itself to the subject and kill them in the exact same manner as if they discovered SCP-4885 itself. This will also transform them into an SCP-4885-1 instance.

SCP-4885 was discovered residing in [LOCATION REDACTED] within a small wooden house. Mobile Task Force Chi-19 ("Unrelenting Punishment") was sent to capture an entirely separate anomaly, and did not know of SCP-4885's existence.

Subjects: Amelia Merrick (M-1), James Klein (M-2), Kurt Stoll (M-3)

[BEGIN LOG]

M-1: Mic check.

M-2: Yup.

M-3: All good.

M-1: Equipment check.

M-2: Everything's working as intended.

M-3: Ditto.

M-1: Transcript number… 67. We are entering the house.

M-3: No one's talking to you Melly.

M-2: Oh, stop it. Now is not the time, Kurt.

M-3: Heh, right, sorry.

The group enters the house.

M-1: Initial descriptions of the object were a pair of black spectacles capable of killing the user, and covering their body in strange pictures from an unknown children's book.

M-3: It was obviously Where's Wa-

M-2: Kurt, stay professional.

M-3: I just want to bring some life into M-1's robotic speech.

M-1: I'm trying to keep my job, Kurt.

M-2: Ahem.

M-1: Sigh Right.

The group search the ground floor for the object, and begin to go upstairs. Scraping noises are heard below them, but the group does not notice this.

M-3: There's a picture on the wall.

M-1: Hmm?

M-3: Yeah, looks weird. Looks like crayon.

M-2: Take a picture.

M-3: Already on it.

him.png

The image taken by M-3.

M-2: Good. Think it has something to do with the anomaly?

M-3: Of course. It looks like Waldo.

M-1: Do any of you have an idea on where the object may be?

M-3: Er, I think it's in here.

M-1: Which room is this?

M-3: Um… Bathroom. There's a toilet and a… a shower, yeah. At least I think it's a shower.

The room is circular, with a normal porcelain toilet at the other side of the room. There is a small depression into the floor, leading to a small drain.

M-2: Strange… what kind of shower is this?

M-1: There is a modified sprinkler on the ceiling. There's a switch on one side of the room that, I assume, would activate the sprinkler. Seeing as this house has been abandoned for several years, I doubt it would work.

M-3 activates the switch. Water begins to come out of the sprinkler.

M-1: I stand corrected. Who is paying the water bill for this to work? Is it still hot?

M-3 touches the water, and immediately recoils in pain.

M-3: Gah… it's scalding.

M-1: Who is…

M-2: I have discovered the object. It was rested… uh, resting on the toilet.

M-2 is seen holding a pair of black circular glasses. The lens appear to be missing.

M-1: Good. You know the drill.

M-2 carefully examines the object, checking for fingerprints or any other traces of evidence. A small set of fingerprints are discovered on the temples of the glasses, which are revealed to be his own.

M-2: Yup, these are the ones. I'll put these in a baggie real quick.

M-2 produces a plastic bag from a small container around their waist, and places the glasses inside.

M-3: There's an inscription here. It's in… uh, [REDACTED].

M-1: Where?

M-3: Over here, on the wall.

The phrase "[REDACTED]" is seen on the wall in [REDACTED].

M-3: This was definitely not here when we first got here. Should we just leave it be and tell command about this, or?

M-2: It's most likely memetic. Here. let me translate it. I have training.

M-2 takes out a small Foundation-made translator, and inputs the phrase.

M-2: Huh, well never mind, doesn't appear to be memetic. It says… "The basement. The corpses from a child's book are in the basement. He is there too. Fr-. " And then it cuts off.

M-3: Hm. Take a picture and we'll send it ba-

M-2 begins to groan and hold their stomach.

M-3: Are you okay? What happened?

A set of fingers exit M-2's mouth, and grab their jaw. The hands push down, launching the jaw across the room. SCP-4885 exits M-2's body.

M-1: W-what the f-

Both M-1 and M-3 begin shooting at SCP-4885. The entity charges towards M-1 and shoves their fingers down their throat, and begin clawing into their mouth by unhinging their jaw.

M-3: Please, fuck, oh god. P-please, command. We're at [LOCATION REDACTED]. I repeat, [LOCATION REDACTED]. We need assistance, asap. Help. HE-

The audio is abruptly severed.

[END LOG]

When the transcript was received by a nearby site, the site almost immediately went into lockdown as SCP-4885 killed most of its personnel. The O5 Council enacted an emergency meeting, and Procedure Invenient Eum was created. Shortly after this, the procedure was enacted, and SCP-4885 was theorized to be contained. All information regarding SCP-4885's location of discovery was removed via an automatic algorithm, and SCP-4885's file was created.

You had this bitch on standby didn’t you

[shadowsfascination]

Shadamy oneshot| Free me of myself

Trigger Warning: see end notes.

The warmth of heavy breaths against a thick, wide and curved, cold window briefly stuck on the glass. The repeating cycle of condense licking the glass like soot to the window pane of a wood stove to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared was mesmerizing in a strange way. Then again: this entire scenery was.

From the sharp contrast of the cool metal floors and walls with their blue and greenish tones to the warmth and fierce illumination from the sun onto the planets. From the horrifying atmosphere inside with haunting memories clinging to his throat to the breath-taking spectacle outside.

Both aspects took his breath away and both endeavoured swallowing him inside their mighty-strong vibes, consuming him and lift him out of his body. Although their tones couldn’t be further away from one another, either of them had a traction so strong it reminded him of an approaching tsunami. One that’s still building up its’ devastating fortitude before it’d curl over him and swill away everything on its’ path.

This place was one of the very few things capable of leaving him frozen. Every time he came here it happened. And yet he kept coming back. He had to. Felt obligated to. Wanted to. Yes, a part of him longed to be swallowed entirely by the darkness and relive the events that haunted him to this very day. The feeling grew on him particularly around this time of the year.

Overcome by a returning urge to pay off his debts and right his mistakes, being plagued by this gruesome guilt felt like it needed to be done. It was the only darn thing he could do; be here and endure all of it; the depression, agony, indignance, failure, grief and self-loath. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

If only it were useful. If only it could bring you back.

But it wasn’t and it would never change being like this, for she was gone- forever. It left Shadow to be standing lifeless on the ARK. His open palms pressed against the glass while all he could do was breathe in and out again, eyeing the condense on the window. The sensation of the cold glass against his hands was the only thing keeping him grounded by now.

Every year when he paid this cursed place a visit it he heard her voice just when he was on the edge of giving in to the menacing shadows that tainted his past. As bright, gentle and hopeful as no other, the sweetness of her voice invited him to step out of the shadows, into a shower of light. With a single effort she freed him of the relentlessness he felt towards himself, blaming himself for her death.

But not this year.

There only was the mundane silence that was usual for this place. An insecure frown curved his brow and he squinted his eyes when he shifted his glance towards the light of the sun. The view on the planet of fire, when seen from the colony, was accompanied by many halo’s, each of them reflecting the constantly changing spectrum of colours upon the rays of light. They seemed capable of catching you and dragging you into space if you stared into them for too long.

With a dull glance in his crimson orbs, Shadow gazed out the very window Maria and he frequently had watched the blue planet, always dreaming of the day they’d set foot on it together. A renewed sadness whirled inside him, churning his stomach to the point where it nauseated him and clenched his open palms into fists.

He hoped to feel her presence here. He desperately longed for it; the one that always changed the hurricane whirling inside him on the day of her death into a much gentler breeze. Every year since he had awakened he came here and every year he’d felt something of her, something that allowed him to carry on. On an unconscious note his friend, while having passed a long time ago, still had the capacities to change his mind. There were only few he could give credit to when it came to that.

Have you… forsaken me, Maria?

Shadow’s pulse accelerated to a crazy high pace, even for the ultimate lifeform and he sank down to his knees. While his heart thumped against the insides of his chest so fast it felt like it would burst through, he cried. The thought of his first friend rejecting him even after she passed literally just hurt so bad! The pain cramped his chest together and he struggled to breath.

Sudden acoustics, her voice without doubt, called out to him on the abandoned colony, a whisper with the impact of a scream.

‘Shadow, it’s time for you to let go of me.’

“You’re wrong! I will always keep remembering you! It’s the only thing I can do…”

He pictured her bright blue eyes and friendly smile in front of him. Tightening every muscle in his body he forcefully attempted to transfer image of her into a physical presence, into reality. The line between his messed up mind, memories, wishes, dreams and reality grew thinner by the minute. He was almost certain she was here, almost able to see her. Almost.  If only he tried a little harder.

‘It’s time you stop blaming yourself, Shadow. I don’t want to see you like this. Please, let go of the past for there’s others who need your help now. You will only imprison yourself if you keep looking for me and my sacrifice will be left in vain. Remember why you were created Shadow. It’s the key to your freedom.’

The voice slowly extinguished, dying out into the darkness to be replaced by a suppressed, wheezy howl. Shadows’ cries were abruptly disturbed by an extremely loud bang elsewhere on the colony, a crash that shook the ARK in a rough way. Normally the alarm would have sound, but Shadow had turned off the electricity. He did that sometimes when he felt gloomy, feeling it added to his mood.

After wiping his tearstained face he rose and turned towards the elevator, prepared for anything and nothing all at once. He was NOT in the mood to fight. Still, there were a lot of strong, negative emotions to fuel his strength. Even so, his mentally unstable state of mind switched between the urge to conquer any opponent and the thought of willingly getting killed. They battled for precedence inside him and he was unsure which one would win.

“Sweet Chaos! Shadow!?!”

The black and red striped hedgehog couldn’t decide which of their faces looked more awestruck when they regarded each other; Amy’s or his own. He flinched and stiffened up when she took a few steps towards him, the sound of the heals of her boots clanking on the metal floors. She noticed and didn’t pursue, trying to lock her eyes with him, but his gaze went right through her. Eventually he turned around walked up to the window again, wishing to escape both her presence around and gaze upon him. Amy followed his lead and joined his stargazing.

Ever since Shadow and she became more acquainted with one another, they discovered they were quite compatible as friends and hung out more often. The two hedgehogs appreciated the other’s pureness, call it a rawness if you will. He respected her and accepted her for who she was; the good, bad and the ugly. Amy’s assertiveness, strength and straight-forward attitude were highly valued by Shadow. Even though his confidence barely ever seemed to be shaken, it was clear that was the occasion tonight. Shadow heaved a sigh.

“Tell me how you got here.” He finally said.

“Hey, if Knuckles can fly a rocket here, I figured I could too. So, I broke into one of Eggman’s old bases and took the liberty of borrowing one.”

Shadow rolled his eyes on her.

“You’re crazy, you know that? You could’ve gotten hurt with no one around to save you.”

“I made it, all right?! I’m more concerned about you right now.”

His bloodshot, red eyes met her emerald ones for a moment and then the moment was gone.

“I’m fine. Just wished you hadn’t come up here.”

“Shadow, I’m worried about you! I know what today is…”

“I said I didn’t wanna hang out tonight. HECK, I EXPLICITLY told you I wanted to be alone tonight. And yet here you are, forcing yourself on me when I asked you not to. Ever heard of boundaries?”

“Fine, I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“No, you’re staying now. I can’t have peace of mind when I know your safety might be compromised when flying a rocket back to the planet on your own.”

“You’re saying you had peace of mind before I came here? I’m not stupid, okay?”

“I wasn’t. That’s why I wanted to be alone. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Well it does now, since you’re making me stay.”

He shrugged and shifted his gaze back to the countless stars in the never-ending shades of different blue’s that coloured the heavens. Shutting himself off from Amy and the ARK, his heart ached for a hint of Maria out there. Even if it were a last goodbye, but the closest thing he could find was the disapproval his childhood friend would’ve had regarding his rude attitude towards his friend now.

“Does her presence still linger around this place?” Amy dared ask after a long silence.

“It used to, at least on this day.”

“It doesn’t anymore?”

“She… told me to move on, let go of her. Or at least that’s what entered my mind when I sought her.”

 Normally Shadow would have hesitated to tell anyone about any of this, feeling it didn’t go with his down-to-earth attitude. Amy was the exception on this to him. She strongly believed in a connection between the visible and the invisible so he need not to fear being laughed at. He figured she’d be able to understand the visions he’d had of Maria and how he’d heard her voice.

“Anything else?” She asked like it was any other ordinary topic.

“That I should stop blaming myself. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I want to. It’s the last thing I have of her.”

“What is?”

“The guilt I can cast upon myself.”

“Shadow…”

Amy’s eyed filled with a compassionate sadness. She reached out to him to rest a hand on his shoulder. When he did not protest, she stepped in and carefully enclosed him from behind in a warm embrace.

It puzzled her that Shadow usually wasn’t fond of physical contact and yet this was the second time she hugged him like this. The first time was on Prison Island, when silly 12-year old her had mistaken him for Sonic. He never showed a sign of discomfort or tried to shake her off. They stood there for a while, his arms hanging limp along his numb body.

“Maria’s right.” Amy said. “It’s long time for you to let go of that guilt. You’re not to blame for anything that happened here.”

“I’m the reason why they flew up here to shut down the facility. I’m the reason she’s dead.”

“No, G.U.N. is. They’re the ones who conducted these crimes. Their terrible policy and way of handling the situation is the reason she’s dead. There’s no excuse for the way they misinterpreted and poorly handled the situation. There’s no excuse, no explanation good enough for killing the people up here the way they did. And…”

Amy bit her lower lip and hesitated for a moment.

“I don’t know if you’ll agree with me, but Maria chose to free you. She might’ve been able to save both of you or herself instead.”

“Are you saying it’s her fault for getting shot?” Shadow sneered at her.

“I’m not. Just saying she did what she did and with that she left you no choice. You can’t be guilty for something you had no hold on. It was out of your control. She freed you because she knew the reason behind your creation. She knew your potential, Shadow. It was her choice, not yours. There’s no point in punishing yourself now.”

She hugged him tighter and rested her head on his shoulder. With Amy’s words still echoing on in his head, a vague, translucent image was drawn before his eyes. Maria. Shadow wondered if it was a figment of his imagination and whether Amy was able to see her too. The blonde girl smiled a serene smile of hope and reached out to him, covering his hands in hers. A pleasant tingling radiated from them, reassuring him that his pink friend was right.

Maria regarded Amy for a second and gave her a warm smile. Then the blue of her eyes and the dress she always wore faded into the darker blue of the starry skies, leaving them behind. It was just Shadow and Amy now. She still held him and he let her.

“Did you see…?”

“I did. I saw her too.”

Shadow now freed himself of her embrace to face her. The storm clouds that were reflected in his eyes before had vanished. With a new peace of mind, the kind he’d never experienced before, he cleared his throat.

“Bless you for being such a stubborn, persistent soul, Amy Rose.”

“No biggie, we’re friends. I got your back and I’m sure you’ve got mine.”

He gave her a single, yet assuring nod.

“Let’s leave this place. Whadd’ya say?”

“I wanna fly the rocket. I think I really got the hang of it!”

“You seriously expect me to believe that after the ever-so-graceful landing you performed here earlier?”

 “Hey- …I!- That was a rough patch, okay?!”

 “Understatement! You almost shook the ARK out of its’ orbit. I bet you wrecked the place.”

Shadow cocked a brow at her before giving her a playful push. She snorted when she eyed him. Amusement sparkled in his eyes at the thought what the heck of a ride it must have been on that rocket, giving her awful piloting skills. It was another ridiculous outcome of her impulsive nature. The two burst into laughter, their cackling echoing on throughout the colony.

With Amy already in his arms to warp them back home Chaos Control-style, he glanced back at the window. The translucent vision of his childhood friend respawned again. He felt this was their final parting and for the first time, he’d made his peace with that. She waved them goodbye before dissolving into the background, sending off millions of stars into a meteor shower. Her calm, gentle voice resounded throughout the universe for the last time:

 Sayonara, Shadow the Hedgehog.

_____________________________________

Trigger Warning [SPOILERS?!]: - suggestive suicidal thought (No actual suicide or attempt) - mental struggles (trauma, grief, losing touch of reality, feelings of desperation, depression, anxiety) - eventual happy ending > Please message me if you think I need to adjust something in the TW. First time using it. Better safe than sorry (:

If you’re struggling with mental health problems or suicidal thoughts or even plans: seek help! Even if it seems useless to you and I imagine it will. There’s lines you can call and people out there who will listen to you. Google them in the area where you live. I know it’s a good starting point to get help.  

______________________________________

Notes

I wanted to do a short story on Shadow’s and Amy’s friendship and how she’ll help him cope with the loss of Maria. I believe that Amy’s headstrong, yet endearing sweet personality allows her to change Shadow’s mind sometimes like we have seen in SA2 before.

[taetaespeaches]

“We’re becoming more of a spectacle than the art.”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.7K

a/n: ok so here is a museum date with Joonie which was requested ages ago. This is part of the long term Joon/Daisy couple in which they are trying to shift their relationship from a supposed to be one night stand to an actual romantic relationship. It kind of follows after “Please don’t cry”, in which they have a argument/discussion about wanting to get to know each other better outside of Namjoon’s apartment- that fic is not necessary to read for this one, It just shows that these two have been making the effort to date properly, despite having already been intimate. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

AFTER a taking an excessive amount of public transport, your anxiety bubbling over the fear of getting lost, you finally arrived at the museum. Looking down at your phone, you saw the text from your date saying he was waiting for you at the entrance of the Lotte Museum of Art, which was at the base of the Lotte World Tower.

Approaching the building, maneuvering your way through the bustling crowds, you spotted your tall handsome man, his eyes scanning the sea of people. When his eyes found yours, his stunning smile overtook his face as he waved cutely at you, standing a little taller.

Though the relationship wasn’t labeled yet, you had been on a few dates at this point, most of them taking place in cafes or perusing small shops. However, it was still a little strange seeing him out in public. A good strange, just different. You returned the smile as you walked toward him, your heart racing at the sight of him because he was there, waiting for you. Only you.

“Babe,” he called out happily when you neared him.

“Next time we’re coming together, I was so fucking scared of getting lost,” you complained with a chuckle, Namjoon’s eyes shooting around the crowd at your loud and public vulgarity, though he chuckled at the outburst.

“I’m sorry,” he smiled as you appeared in front of him, his hand finding your lower back as he leaned forward, leaving a quick but sweet kiss to your lips. “Next time we come together,” he grinned.

“Hi,” you greeted him with a smile, Joon moving his hand from your lower back to swing around your shoulders, pulling you against his side as he walked you toward the doors of the museum.

“I already paid for our entry,” he told you before pressing another kiss to your temple as he held out a brochure of the exhibit you were about to see.

“Ooh, Dan Flavin, right?” You asked as you took the brochure.

“Yeah, he basically abandoned painting for creating these amazing pieces using fluorescent lights, and space,” Namjoon told you as you entered the museum.

“Did you learn all that from this or did you do prior research,” you asked with a smirk, Namjoon letting out an embarrassed breathy chuckle.

“I may have done a bit of research when planning this date,” he told you, dimples on display as you giggled at him.

“You’re adorable,” you cooed as you turned your attention to the pamphlet. You silently read over the information until you found a section you particularly liked, reading it out loud. “Flavin summed up his practice as ‘decisions to combine traditions of painting and sculpture in architecture with acts of electric light defining space.’ The result is a phenomenological experience where the work of art must be experienced in person by a viewer,” you read. “Flavin was taking color out of the confines of the canvas and into our corporeal space.”

Namjoon hummed thoughtfully as he navigated through the museum, leading you both toward the exhibit hall.

“You know, that’s kind of like you,” you told him as you continued to peruse the information in your hands.

Your date thoughtfully looked down at you as he studied your expression while you read. Stopping his movements, you glanced up at him, meeting his gaze. Raising your eyebrows in question, Namjoon gave you a small smile. “What do you mean kind of like me?”

You opened your mouth to speak but stalled a moment as you gathered your thoughts. “With your music,” you told him, Namjoon’s eyes widening in surprise. “You take these traditional styles of hip hop and rap and pop, and even the traditional idol image, and you make them new. You don’t let genre confine you,” you shrugged, unaware of how much your words meant to the man standing beside you.

As you stared up at him, his gaze intense and unwavering, you felt your cheeks flush. “What?”

Namjoon let out a small chuckle as he shook his head. “You’re just amazing,” he told you, resting his forehead against your own. “I don’t think you even know how amazing you are and that’s just fucking shocking to me,” he whispered before his hand found the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours.

You eagerly kissed him back, not unaware that you were in a public space but just not caring in that moment as you allowed him to deepen the kiss for just a moment. Smiling against his lips, you reluctantly pulled away.

“Ok, that’s enough pda for now,” you smirked, Namjoon blushing. “As much as I like you being obsessed with me,” you teased him, Namjoon throwing his head back laughing, “we’re becoming more of a spectacle than the art.”

Your date slowly took a look around at the eyeing pupils surrounding you, a bashful smile overtaking his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. In that moment, he looked so young and excited, and you found yourself admiring the dual presence of youth and maturity he carried around with him.

“You know,” he started, grabbing your hand as he led you into the exhibit. “I’m only a little bit obsessed with you.”  

“Oh, just a little bit, huh?” You asked him with an amused smile.

“Little bit,” he told you, holding his fingers up to show you the miniscule amount of obsession he had for you.

“Well,” you shot him a cocky smirk. “Just give me more time to impress you with my wildly interesting mind,” you playfully bragged as you both entered the Dan Flavin: Lights exhibit, the darkened rooms illuminated with different colors of fluorescent lights. “Then you’ll be the proper amount of obsessed,” you informed him as your eyes fell on the displays. While you were figuring out what to make of the installations, Namjoon’s eyes were on you, admiring the way the colorful lights shined on your face.

Stepping behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “You’ve left several impressions, don’t worry about that, Babe,” he whispered to you before he started walking, both of you stepping closer to one of the displays. “What do you think of this one?”

The display featured a simple structure of a few fluorescent lights sitting perpendicular to each other against the corner of the walls, casting a green and blue glow.

“Can I be honest?” You asked, Namjoon humming a confirmation against your temple. “I don’t really get it,” you giggled. “Like it’s interesting to look at, but what does it mean?”

Namjoon looked at the piece thoughtfully before speaking. “I don’t know, I don’t think the meaning is necessarily as important as the feelings it evokes.”

You smiled at that but dipped your head to look down at your feet bashfully, your shoes glowing in green and blue light. “I love art, and I love the almost lack of clarity that comes with abstract media, but to be completely blatant, I don’t understand what the fuck Mr. Flavin was doing with these fluorescent lights,” you bit your lip, turning your face toward Namjoon’s just in time to see his mouth spread into a wide smile as a laugh fell from his lips.

You both turned toward the piece again as Namjoon told you, “it makes me feel calm.”

Your lips curved upward at the comment as you nodded. “I get that. I feel a bit melancholy looking at it.” Namjoon looked toward you again as his arms slid off your body, his eyes following you as you made your way to another display.

Slowly following behind you, he watched as you turned toward the lights, your side profile illuminated with pink and orange hues. He found himself pulling his phone out of his pocket and he shot a few photos of you in the glow of the art. Turning to find him, you caught him taking photos and smiled bashfully before pulling a few silly faces as he walked  toward you, snapping photos as he neared you.

“I like this one more,” you told him. “It’s warm. Makes me feel comforted.”

Namjoon smiled at you as he nodded. “I agree. Kind of gives off the feeling of compassion.” With his dimples on display, his eyes kind and attentive as he looked back at you, his face glowing in pink with orange highlights, your heart raced as feelings of intense tenderness and fondness rushed through your being.

“Maybe even the feeling of love. Giving love, receiving love,” you whispered as the realization hit you that you may be falling in love with him.

The smile on his face only widened as he let out a single breathy laugh before nodding. “Yeah, love. I feel that too.”

It wasn’t a confession- not yet, at least, but more an admission to yourselves of where your feelings were headed. “Hang on,” you told him suddenly as you pulled out your own phone. “We better get a few shots of you, you know, for your twitter,” you grinned. You were using the excuse of twitter updates to cover up the fact that you just wanted to capture Namjoon in this moment, and he knew that, nodding exaggeratedly.

“Of course, for twitter,” he smiled as he prepared to pose, though you had already started snapping photos. “This definitely won’t be your phone background later I’m sure,” he teased, you chuckling as you shook your head.

“Shut up and pose,” you defended weakly with a smile, Namjoon laughing as you captured the moment to look back on.  

Namjoon wouldn’t find out for another week that your phone background just happened to be a photo of him mid-laugh, his skin cast in a warm glow of pink and orange lights. But he would reveal at the same time that his background was you pulling a ridiculous face, slightly blurred, cast in the same light.

After taking a few photos of Namjoon for him to actually post on twitter for his fans, he walked toward you, you holding out the phone to show him the shots. “These suitable for you, Mr. Kim?” You asked, however he ignored your question and the photos, grabbing your face between his hands and crashing his lips to yours.

Your hands hung to your sides in surprise as you pulled back a bit, smiling at the way he chased your lips. “More pda? Control yourself,” you teased, Namjoon scoffing as he chuckled.

“Shut up and kiss me,” he told you as he pressed his mouth to yours again. This time your hands gripped the sides of his abdomen, allowing him to deepen the kiss, because, well, if he insisted.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Sixteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 8.8k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“You’re still sure you want to do this?” Finnick asks, you give him a look.

“If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. Feel free to join Katniss’ star squad.” you snort at the name of it, “Boggs already made us the offer and said we can change our minds at any time up until we leave.”

“I remember.” Finnick says, he grips his shiny, new trident in his hand tightly, before deciding that he might as well strap it to his body so he’s not carrying it around everywhere, “I just thought you might want to back out is all.”

You roll your eyes, “The day I back out of anything, is the day I’m a coward.”

“I’m Commander Paylor of District Eight.” Paylor begins, Finnick’s head immediately snaps up to see her, you practically already have Paylor’s speech memorized, “I’m a soldier like all of you so, here’s what I know. For the first time in our lifetimes, we’re standing together with thirteen districts. From what I see here, we’ve already made history.”

The clapping starts first, the cheering is a second behind. There’s a shitload of people here. No only in the streets, but on the rooftops too. Volunteers from every district have been flown in, leading up to this moment. What you did yesterday, really opened up a ton of opportunities.

“But history doesn’t stop to celebrate, and we’re facing an enemy that will not change and will never surrender. President Snow has pulled back peacekeepers to fortify the center of the city. He’s evacuating residents from outer blocks, these civilians will be confused and desperate. You are under orders not to target them.”

Paylor motions to the crowd, “We’re deploying medical brigades to help anyone in need. We’ll show the Capitol people who we are.” she motions to the live screen behind her of a map, “To slow our advance, President Snow is building a minefield of traps and lethal devices called ‘pods’. The sadistic inventions of gamemakers meant to make sport of our deaths.

“If our armies make it past peacekeepers and other defenses, we’ll converge in the center of the city at Snow’s mansion, where we won’t just unlock his gates, but unshackle all of Panem.” The crowd cheers again, “If we die, let it be for a cause and not a spectacle. If we succeed, let it be for all of panem, and let it be forever.

“Yes, you’ve already made history. But the future--our future--starts tomorrow at dawn, when we march together into the Capitol.”

The cheering resumes, and you give a quick glance to Katniss and Gale, curious to see how they’re taking all of this. Gale came into District Two a little after you had left--he was on a hovercraft full of volunteers--and Katniss came over this morning as a stowaway on another volunteer hovercraft.

She’s been insisting to help this entire time, not wanting to sit back. However, she’s going to be in for a nasty surprise when she realizes that she’s the top priority. Her squad is going to do anything to keep her safe--which is exactly why you’ve decided not to join the star squad. 

You’ve already had the misfortune of being in on protecting her once, and that was enough for you. You might not have known every single detail, but the intentions were pretty clear. You’re just surprised that it took so long for Katniss to realize that she was the priority.

Also, the problem with the star squad is that they’re not front lines. Katniss can’t be killed, otherwise the revolution dies or whatever. So, Boggs told you that they’re going to give the volunteers a head start, and then they’ll follow behind. No matter what happens, the squad will still have to be careful of pods and whatnot, but most of them will be taken out by the volunteers by the time the squad leaves the base.

In other words--they’re not going to get any action. Katniss is still going to be filmed, but it’s practically useless in your mind. Her setting off pods or standing patriotically in front of things isn’t going to do much. She’s not leading anyone, she’s following behind people.

Which is a whole other reason why you’re up front: you’re not a follower, you’re a leader.

As Paylor gets back to her speech, giving more information, you grab a hold of Finnick’s arm, and start to pull him out of the crowd. Trying to navigate through is hard at first, until the volunteers see the look on your face, or recognize who you are. After that, a path just wide enough for you and Finnick to fit through, forms.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here, we were already briefed.” you say, and the second you’re out of the crowd, you let Finnick go.

Bouncing on your toes, you twirl around a bit, “Tomorrow, huh? Too bad it can’t be today.”

“We’ll probably be introduced to our squad at least.” Finnick says, “You know where to go?”

“What kind of moronic question is that?” you ask, heading to the building that Lyme said would be the meet up spot for you guys, “Of course I know.”

Lyme and Boggs had approached both you and Finnick. Either you could join Katniss’ star squad, protect her, befriend her, trust her--whatever. You guys would have a chance of being on television, and maybe even share some glory of ‘being brave and marching to the Capitol’. In your opinion, it looks like Coin just wants to put two of her best faces together to make you look like a team.

Especially after what you said to the people inside of the tunnel, you basically discredited Katniss in the worst way possible. By saying that she can’t relate to them, because she doesn’t get it. You said what you said, you weren’t lying to their faces. If Coin wants to think that, then she can because she’s psychotic anyway.

Anyway, Lyme said that you could go to the front lines. Like you said, Coin doesn’t control you, because you aren’t the one leading the masses--Katniss is. If you want to go ahead and clear out streets for the medical brigades, then you can go nuts with it. You’ll get your own personalized squad that Lyme thinks will get along with you, and then you’re free to go tomorrow.

You’ll have your own pod-tracker, a map to follow, food and water, weapons, etc. But this just means that you’re going to be in danger with every step you take. The pod-tracker, which is actually called the Holo, will be as updated as can be, tomorrow. However, if any new pods appear, you won’t really know until it’s too late.

You received all of this news pretty well. You’re used to being in places you’re not welcome at. You’re pretty agile, you can fight well, you’re not too bad when it comes to leading a group. And if you get killed on the way, what a noble way to go out.

As for Finnick, you could just tell that this isn’t what he thought it was going to be. You don’t know what he expected exactly, but it wasn’t a whole ton of danger all wrapped up in one big city. Seeing the Capitol as dangerous is a comedy. To you two, it’s been sparkle and shimmer for as long as you can remember.

Combining the pretty idea of it, and the idea that the gamemakers have not held back with what will go on with traps--isn’t a fun thought. Especially not for you, since you’re the one who’s seen it as glamour the entire time. Finnick… you’re not too sure. He definitely doesn’t have good memories either, but he also got his shitload of secrets from there, so you’re not entirely sure.

You know that he’s pro-rebellion though. That’s obvious by now.

Back to what you were saying, Boggs and Lyme both offered sides to it. Follow Katniss around and not be in direct danger all the time, or have your own squad and be face-to-face with danger. She liked to describe it as ‘death breathing down your neck’.

You already promised a lot of people that you wouldn’t be taking the cowards way out. And like you’ve said already; you don’t want to be in the star squad. 

While the entire interaction was happening, it was obvious that Finnick was hoping you would change your mind. Like everything that you’ve done up until now has been one entire joke. 

He’ll realize just how real it’ll all be as soon as tomorrow comes. When the deal with Boggs no longer stands and you have to go with Lyme no matter what.

Actually, you wouldn’t have to go with her. You would be able to just stay in District Two, while all the volunteers do your dirty work. 

“Remember any of the names that she told us?” You ask Finnick, looking at him.

He’s got his thumbs looped into the straps of the bulletproof vest he’s wearing. He thinks for a moment, and then makes a face, “Not really.”

You shrug, “Not a problem, I’ve got a way around seeming rude.”

Finnick laughs, “You care about that?”

“They’re going to be the ones saving our necks, so yeah.” You say, cracking your knuckles, “They’re not a bunch of victors that I can mouth off to. They’re regular people, they won’t understand and will end up taking it personally.”

“Critical thinking.” Finnick mocks.

If you didn’t have all this armor on, you’d spin around and kick his ass. Even then, he might be able to win. When you two were putting the outfits on, he looked like none of the weight fazed him. As for you, your knees nearly buckled.

On top of the armor are the backpacks, and then your fancy weapons, and a hundred other things inside of the backpacks. It makes it all so heavy, and your shoulders had begun to ache after a while.

The only reason why you’re still wearing it—because in no way was it required to be worn—is because you want to get used to the feeling of it all. It’s why you continue to move around quickly, bounce on your toes, spin in circles and all of that. You’re trying to fix your balance.

If Finnick had tried to push you over when you first put all this weight on, you would have stumbled and fell. Now, you’ve begun to get a hang of it all, it’s not nearly as bad as you thought it was.

You two make it to the abandoned building. The upper floor is caved in, the windows are gone and if the ground shakes, concrete debris will come through the cracks. Definitely not a safe place to be at, but the entire district is fucked up like this. It’s not really a huge surprise.

The inside of the building is relatively empty, except for some furniture. Finnick waits by the door while you head inside, stealing two chairs--one in each arm--as you leave the house. If the place collapses, you’d rather be on the outside, not the entire.

Finnick takes his chair from you, and the two of you set up camp outside. You have to shed the backpack before you sit. Then, you unbuckle the bulletproof vest and drop it onto the dirt next to you, leaning back in the chair.

“Have you ever actually gone to war before?” Finnick asks.

“There’s always a first time for everything.” you give him a pretty smile, “Don’t be so negative about it, you’re going to imagine bad things and then get us killed.”

Finnick pauses for a moment, letting what you said sit, and then he moves on, “Are you doing okay?”

You watch his face, looking for mockery. It takes a moment of you squinting and watching the corner of his lips for you to decide. He’s being sincere about it, he actually cares.

You relax, “I’m still mourning, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Finnick is just as relieved as you are, “Are you throwing yourself into this because of her?”

“I’m doing this because I promised those people that I would.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t owe them anything--” Finnick tries.

You squint at him again, but this time it’s a very clear glare. Finnick shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and you resist to kick out the weakest leg that’s barely holding his weight.

“They are my people.” you lean forward, “I might not know their names, but they’re District Two. They are the people that I grew up with. They look up to us, they depend on us victors. Of course I owe them, and you do too.”

Finnick doesn’t bother with saying anything else, and it’s probably for the best. It’s only a few minutes later when you see people approaching. After that, you sit up in your chair, uncrossing your legs as you lean on your knees with your elbows.

“You must be (Y/n) and Finnick.” a girl with blonde, curled hair says, “I’m Hydri.” 

You get to your feet, holding out your hand, “Nice to meet you.

“This is Taurus,” she motions to a tall man with black hair. There’s tattoos snaking up his neck, and they’re peeking out from beneath his sleeves, “And Alioth.”

Alioth is around average height. He gives a small smile and raises his hand as a greeting. His hair is blonde too, and it’s a style that was most definitely taken out of the Capitol’s stylists books. The sides are shaved but they have intricate designs in them.

“Let me guess, you two are from District Two?” you ask, shaking Taurus’ hand, and then Alioths.

“Not me.” Hydri smiles kindly, “Taurus is from District One, though. He was nearly in the games once.”

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t, you would have wiped the floor with my body.” Taurus says, his voice is pretty deep. 

“No shit.” you laugh, “I always heard about the runner-up from District One, but I never got to see who you were.”

Taurus cracks a smile.

Finnick moves around you to greet them just the same as you did. Then, the conversation shifts to what you’re all really here for--what happens tomorrow.

The entire thing is very friendly, you all go over what you’ll be having inside the backpacks, and the difference between them. Just so that if one of you get hurt or killed, the others will know if the backpack is worth taking or not. While you’re talking, you learn that Alioth will be carrying mostly medical stuff. He’s got food and ammo for himself, but when he opens his backpack and shows it to you guys, you can see exactly what he means.

To have him get killed would be bad. You all have basic medical training, from the games or otherwise. But Alioth’s been studying it for years now since he got out of high school. He originally wanted to sign up for the medical brigade that will be sent out of District Two, but Paylor thought it would be better for him to come with you guys.

Taurus has got the basic prep-games training that you guys get in the academies, so he’ll be a pretty good fighter. Another person you guys wouldn’t want to lose, and yet he tells you all that he doesn’t care if you lean on him. It’s what he’s here for.

As for Hydri, she’s purely for organization. She’s been studying the maps for the last few days, so she’ll be able to keep you from getting lost and from getting off-track. You’ll be able to meet up around Snow’s mansion in the center city. They’ve already marked a building that’s not really used, so it’s the perfect place to go.

After a while, the conversation starts to get a bit dull, and it’s also around the same time that the sun has set. So, you tell them all that you and Finnick are going to grab dinner and head to where you’re staying for the night. Tomorrow, you five will be meeting up in a separate designated spot to receive the Holo, and then hop on a truck to be brought to the city.

Then, you’ll be fighting for your life. Again.

--

You turn the Holo over in your hand, looking at it carefully.

“Don’t break it, we could barely even spare you this one.” the lady tells you.

You look at her, raising your head to be level with her face. Finnick--sensing a showdown--steps in, “Thank you.”

He tries to drag you away, but you keep your stance for a moment, “Lyme personally requested it for me, so you aren’t sparing jack shit. Go fuck yourself.” without missing a beat, you take the Holo from her fingers, mock a smile and say, “I mean, have a nice day.”

You and Finnick leave the table after that, heading over to your group. They’re pulling on the last of their outfits, readjusting straps and buckling up. Taurus is messing around with Alioth slightly while Hydri watches.

They act like they’ve known each other forever, despite the fact that you’re all from varying districts. Taurus is from one, while you and Alioth are from two. Finnick is from four, and Hydri is from District Six. So far, you seem to like them. But they’re obviously a little apprehensive when it comes to you.

You don’t take it personally anymore.

“Got the Holo?” Hydri asks.

You lift it up for her to see, “We’re all good to go.”

“It’s already set up?” Taurus asks.

“Bitch at the booth taught me.”

Taurus snorts, “Let’s go then.”

Hydri leads the way, with Alioth right by her. Taurus hands back with you and Finnick during the walk. For them, it’s not quiet, but for you, it is.

At first, you’re looking at the groups of people getting ready to go to the trucks. And then your eyes wander a little further to where the tents are on the base. From where you are right now, you have a perfect line of sight to where Boggs is standing, talking to some woman, around them stands a few other people.

“How many people do you think have going with Katniss?” you ask.

“Remember when I ran off this morning?” Finnick asks, you nod but don’t look at him, “Went to talk to Boggs. Katniss has got her camera crew from District Thirteen with her, Gale, and the other five.”

“Huh.” you shift your gaze to the trucks, watching some of them take off. Then, it clicks in your head. Five, Katniss, Gale, and the four from the camera crew, “eleven people?”

“Yup. That’ll be a nightmare.” Finnick mutters, “Katniss is probably planning her escape at this exact moment.”

“And it would have been thirteen if we went with them.” you whistle, “There’s no safety in numbers. They’re all going to end up dead.”

Taurus turns his head a little in your direction, you can see the scowl on his face. Yet, he doesn’t ask any questions and just lets what you said slide. He doesn’t look like the confrontational type, but when he does, it’s when he’s pushed the edge. He just has that air about him.

“You really think that?” Finnick asks.

You look at him, “Thirteen people, all with different ambitions and minds of their own. All it would take is for one person to mess up, and the rest are dead. Especially since we’re walking into a minefield.”

Shaking your head, you turn the Holo in your hand, “Katniss will be lucky if she makes it past the first round of pods.”

“You hate her that much, huh?” Taurus finally pitches in, but he doesn’t look at you.

“I don’t hate her, and I don’t loathe her either. She should’ve stayed in District Thirteen, but it’s too late for that now.” you glance behind you to where Boggs is, one final time before they’re finally out of sight.

Boggs seems to be staring at you too, and when he realizes you’re looking back, he raises his hand. You stutter to do the same--mostly because you’re surprised at the action--but you do it, nonetheless. After, a building blocks the view, and you’re forced to go back to focusing on the trucks.

Hydri leads you right to an armoured truck. She knocks on the door once or twice, and then steps back as she waits for them to swing open. It takes a moment, but they do. On the inside, there’s already a couple of people sitting inside on the right. The guy who answered, takes a seat to the right again.

Hydri moves aside, a bright smile on her face as she motions for you guys to go inside. Alioth doesn’t hesitate, with one hand grabbing the bar to the left, and him taking one big step to get himself up. Then, he moves right on back. When Taurus gets up there, he doesn’t struggle with the step as much as Alioth had.

Finnick goes in before you, but he doesn’t sit down right away, instead offering his hand. You grab the bar with your left hand, and his hand with your right. Working together, he pulls you into the truck with no problem. Then, he offers the same courtesy to Hydri, but makes sure she doesn’t get the seat right next to you.

“Thanks.” you mutter, closing your eyes as you lean your head back.

“Anytime.”

Alioth must’ve leaned forward to talk to the driver through the window or something, because the truck gets moving after that. The ride is relatively bumpy at the start, since the trucks had been parked in gravel, but it smoothes out once you’re on the cement.

“Are we getting dropped off in the same spot?” Hydri asks.

“No, we’re earlier than you guys are. Trying to spread out and all.”

“That’s what I thought. At least Paylor knows what she’s doing.” Hydri sighs.

“Did you hear about Lyme?” Taurus asks.

“She’s fine.” Hydri says, “(Y/n) saw her this morning, it was just a scratch. Lyme will be back on her feet, and she might even join us in the center circle.”

“If we make it that far.”

Taurus sighs too, and the conversation between the two groups ends right there.

A while later, there’s some rustling around, making you open your eyes to see what’s going on exactly. The group across from you is getting their backpacks and weapons ready.

They’re talking amongst themselves, mostly about where the nearest pod is going to be the moment they stop off. It’s too bad that they won’t be able to locate where exactly, all they know is that it exists somewhere.

The truck comes to a slow stop, Hydri helps the other girl open the door, and she holds it open so it’s easier for the second group to leave. The other girl says a thank you, and then the doors are shut again.

Taurus and Hydri move to the other bench to make it more comfortable between you five. And Hydri just opens her mouth to say something, when there’s an explosion. For a moment, you think it’s okay, until the truck teeters, and then tips. Unfortunately, it’s in yours, Finnick’s and Alioth’s direction.

There’s not much you can do.

Butterflies swarm in your stomach. A scream rises to your throat. You reach out to grab something--anything.

Your fingers just barely latch onto the edge of the bench, but you hang onto it.

Your back slams against the truck painfully, but your head is cushioned. While you’re staring at what used to be the wall, which is now the ceiling, something slams into the metal next to you.

You look over to your right, trying to see who it is. Finnick is in your way though, and he’s already getting to his elbows, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” you tell him, sitting up and scooting back. Finnick had cushioned your head with his arm--you’re not sure if that was on purpose or if he was flailing just like you were.

Hydri is on her hands and knees next to Finnick, it just means she went flying towards you guys. At least she’s breathing and awake. Taurus is in the dip of the floor, sitting because he can’t stand. And with a look to Alioth, he gives a thumbs up to you.

“Get the doors open.” you tell Taurus, unbuckling the backpack from your body, and then you lean down and grab the Holo.

You turn it on, squinting at it through blurry vision. You blink a couple of times, watching as the device comes to life, and the orange dots take over the blue landscape. The nearest pod is about a hundred feet away--so they couldn’t have set off that one.

The doors slam open, and Taurus reaches for your backpack. He carefully drops it on the outside, eyes glued to the flames that are engulfing a building.

“New pod.” You say, “They ran into one of the new ones.”

You get up with the help of Taurus, not waiting for anyone else. After you slide out, you land on your feet harshly. Another look to the Holo shows an orange dot where the fire is.

“Figures.” you say, picking up the backpack and slinging it over your shoulder.

“(Y/n)--stop!” Finnick’s voice is hard, “What if there’s another?”

You turn around for a moment, “Did you not see what just happened? What if--”

There’s a blast of heat, and then the sound follows. You make a face, but don’t cover your ears as you look to where you were heading. 

A second pod has been set off, and one of the people that were inside of the truck, now struggles to put the fire out. They flail, dancing around like they don’t know what they’re doing. Then, they shed the backpack, and the jacket--which are both charcoal black now--until they eventually sink to their knees, since the flamethrower is still targeting them, following their every move.

You open your mouth as if words will form, but all you feel is your hot breath on your lips as you breathe out.

“Are there any survivors?” Alioth asks, rocks crunching beneath his feet.

“They’re all dead.” Taurus says, “We should check on the drivers--”

“Alive!” Hydri calls, which makes you all turn, “But the driver’s got a head wound from the airbag.

Alioth doesn’t care, he goes ahead and checks them out anyway. You go from staring at the fire to looking at the path you took to get here. It would be a long walk back, and even then there’s no guarantee that Boggs will take you back. Or if you’ll make it in time.

“What are you thinking?” Finnick asks.

You reach up with your right hand, grabbing the left backpack strap as you tilt your head for a moment, “That we better be careful where we step from now on.”

--

Those two explosions that the second group had set off, might have been the first to happen, but they weren’t the last. It was just the beginning of the chain, that probably won’t end until the last volunteer travels through the Capitol.

The gamemakers were smart with their placement--you just have to admit it. They chose the very outskirts of the city, knowing full well that there would be a ton of volunteers that wouldn’t suspect a goddamn thing. You all were expecting the pods to be further into the city, not lining the outering of it.

It’s clear why they did it though, when those first pods went off, it was an indicator that you guys were now coming into the city. It was a way for all those peacekeepers to gear up and find a place to hide until a group of volunteers came through the streets. It would also let Snow know that he should probably be pulling back his citizens a little more forcefully, now.

And not only all of that, but the fact that they’d also know that you were all going in from different directions. Different starting points to offer different advantages. Of course, it also has its disadvantages. You’re having to set off the first pods, rather than walking through a street that’s completely clear already.

The gamemakers don’t care enough to set up the pods again, they’ve got worse things to worry about. Like predicting when you’ll all make it there, and trying to spot the places you hide during the night. For them, it’s going to be a fun game of paranoia that won’t stop until you’re right in their face.

They won’t have a clue either. Not after what Paylor said earlier, with different ways to hide yourself in a crowd. You might not be allowed to antagonize the Capitol citizens, but you’re definitely allowed to raid their wardrobes. Especially the ones that have houses that are already trashed.

If you dress like the citizens, do some crazy fucking makeup to alter your face, and figure out the accent and walk, you’re practically golden. There’s no way that they’ll really be able to tell it's you. If they end up asking for ID, all you have to do is make up some lame excuse about leaving the house in a hurry.

More or less, problem solved.

Until then, you’re all traveling through the streets, just trying not to get caught in the middle of a trap.

“Pod?” Taurus asks, looking back at you.

You hold the Holo up, staring down at the blue for a moment. The next orange dot seems to be miles away, “Not from what I can tell. Just go carefully.”

Taurus goes first, making you guys wait a couple of seconds before following him. In case there is a trap, there will be a few feet between you guys and him, allowing time for escape. It was his idea, it’s not like any of you forced it on him.

“Take a right.” Hydri says, “These alleys are confusing, but it’s our better shot. The main streets are a minefield, aren’t they (Y/n)?”

You shake your head, holding up the Holo for her to see, “Not really, the nearest one might be on the street but--”

“Stop!” Finnick yells to Taurus.

Finnick pushes his way up to you and Hydri, basically pressed against your back as he leans forward to point out the pods, “Right there, see? It’s so faint that we can’t see it.”

“The faint ones are supposed to be the ones that have already been triggered.” you tell Finnick, “It’s what that lady told me.”

“But we’re the first ones through here.” Alioth says, “That can’t be possible.”

While you all stand and stare, thinking up a million possibilities as to why this is happening, your eyes are searching the alleyway for a trigger. If Finnick is right about it being a pod, it’s here, in this little maze of backstreets. You all could be beneath it, on top of it, around the corner from it…

The brick wall of the alley is relatively clean, no one has been through here in awhile. The trash cans that are tucked away have genuinely begun to collect dust. If you were to swipe your finger on top of one of the lids, then you’ll get a thick layer of it on your finger.

This part of the city has long since been deserted. Not only because it was the first to be evacuated, but even worse than that. The gamemakers must have made them leave weeks before the day they thought you’d all be coming through here.

So, there’s definitely something in here.

“How close is the nearest one?” Taurus asks, he hasn’t moved from where he stopped, and that’s probably a good thing.

You move Finnick out of the way with one hand as you look behind you guys, eyes squinted as you search the walls for anything out of place. It has to be subtle, because that’s the way the gamemakers have it in the Holo. They must have figured out a way to hack into them or something.

“What is it?” Finnick asks.

You shush him, eyes sweeping the wall behind him. Brick after brick until--

“Cameras.” You say, pointing at it, “That means peacekeepers, guys.” you turn back to Hydri, “Give me the nearest building that should be safe to hide in.”

“Uh--” Hydri shakes her head for a moment, flipping open the map. She’s obviously trying not to freak out as she runs a finger over the alleyway and into the street, “--yeah, okay. I’ll lead.”

She zips past you, Finnick and Alioth and heads straight for Taurus, showing him the way. The two of them don’t hesitate with walking, which means that you guys shouldn’t either. However, you can’t help but reach into a spare pocket, holding out a throwing knife that Beetee had made for you.

“Fuckers.” you throw.

It lands straight into the glass lens. It won’t be able to watch you now, but that means nothing. The peacekeepers know you guys are here, and that’s all that matters. 

Finnick turns to check where you are, but you’ve already caught up to him and Alioth.

“Quick thinking.” Finnick says.

“I could say the same about you.” 

Hydri brings you guys around a series of corners. It reminds you of the streets of District Two for a moment by how confusing it is the first time you go through. But then you realize there’s a whole pattern to it. That doesn’t mean you had expected where Hydri would bring you guys.

A metal door. Taurus automatically thinks it’s locked, so he goes to kick it in, but Hydri shakes her head and presses a finger to her lips, “Listen.” she whispers.

The five of you all take a moment to try and listen, watching as Hydri pulls out a lockpick, sticking it straight into the lock and beginning to work her magic. It takes a moment of listening to hear it, but then the sound gets considerably louder.

It’s a truck. It’s a truck full of peacekeepers, and they’re not actually coming on foot. There’s going to be a lot more of them than you originally anticipated.

The others must be thinking the same as you because Taurus’ face drops, Finnick pales a little and Alioth opens his mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out. It takes another second before Hydri has popped the door open, and she heads in first, crouched down.

Taurus waits at the door, Finnick shoves you in next, and you go in crouched. Alioth follows, then Finnick, then Taurus--who shuts the door quietly and then locks it again. Hydri is still crouched by the door, waiting for you and Taurus to go up first to evaluate.

None of you actually know what the hell this building is, and by the sound of marching, you’re not going to have much time to figure it out. You and Taurus stop by the same place beneath the counter, and you place your knee against the ground as you squeeze your eyes shut.

This is bad. This is so bad.

You’ve encountered plenty of pods, but those have been relatively easy to bypass. They’re not as dangerous as a squad of peacekeepers are. You set off a pod, the pod is completely done. But peacekeepers? You have to kill each one individually or squeeze your way out.

Escaping them is going to be damn near impossible with five people, especially with a truck full of peacekeepers and god knows if there’s cameras inside of here too.

“Hey,” Finnick says, coming over, “Breathe, it’s going to be fine.”

Right after, there’s a slam on the door behind you guys, and the voices of peacekeepers just outside the building. You look over at Finnick, “Does this look fine to you?”

“I don’t know the layout of the houses, only the streets.” Hydri whispers.

You take a deep breath and another moment of complete silence, before you begin to waddle your way around Taurus. When he goes to stop you, you forcefully push him back, and look at the others.

“Wait.”

You go all the way around the counters, peeking your head around the corner to see the peacekeepers and the actual layout of the building you’re inside. It takes a moment for you to see, and then realize that you’re inside a whole apartment building. There’s a staircase nearby, you guys can go up that as far as it goes…

“Hydri, are there fire escapes?” you ask, looking back.

She nods quickly, and so you motion for them to follow. The pounding on the back door has not only gotten louder, but they’ve begun to cave the metal in from the force they’re using. As for out front--you have no clue what’s going on there.

You lead them all to the staircase, Taurus insists on taking up the back since he can’t have the front. You go up one floor, and then a second, then a third, and then a fourth. The entire way, you’re jiggling door knobs, trying to find one that’s unlocked. If you can run up the fire escape, that would be much easier.

On the fifth floor, you find one single door unlocked, and without a care as to why, you rush everyone inside. It’s only when you go to see for yourself, you freeze where you stand.

“We’re not here to hurt you.” Finnick starts first.

The Capitol citizens are sitting on their couch, enjoying their tea. The woman just barely has the cup in her hold, and her hand is shaking.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, do you recognize the name?” 

“Yes.” The man says, standing from where he sits, “What are you doing in my house--”

You ignore him, “You shouldn’t be here. You should have gone with everyone else when you evacuated, because the entire city is full of traps.”

As you make your way around the windows, you find the one with a fire escape. It’s above the alleyway, but it’ll have to work. The door you came in downstairs just blew. You pop it open, letting Hydri and Alioth go out first.

“We mean no harm.” you tell them, “We’re just trying to get away. When the peacekeepers come up here, urge them to get you out of here.”

“Why should we?” he demands.

You’re reaching forward, grabbing Finnick’s sleeve as you make him go before you.

“Because if you even step foot into the streets, you’ll die.” you hand the Holo off to Finnick.

“Go.” Taurus tells you, “I’ll go out last.”

The others are already going up the metal staircase, you can hear their rapid feet. The only person that hasn’t started moving yet is Finnick.

“Please.” you look at the woman, “I’m telling you it’s not safe here, not even for us.”

You go through the window, and just as Taurus comes over, you can hear the voices and the dozen pairs of footsteps too. Taurus gives one look to the door, then back to the window. You reach your hand out like you’re going to pull him through, but he slams the window shut instead.

As he’s reaching for the curtains, the automatic is in his hands. He tilts his head at you, like he’s telling you to run while you can. Then, the fabric covers the window, and you can hear the first slam into the door.

“Go.” you tell Finnick, pushing him, “I said go!”

Finnick gets moving after that, flying up the staircase faster than you can. He takes them two at a time, and at every landing, he looks back to make sure you’re following. Finnick just barely gets to the ladder when you hear the first bullet leave the gun, and following are the screams.

He’s just barely up far enough when you begin going. At the top waiting is Alioth and Hydri, reaching out to yank Finnick up the last couple of rungs. When you get up there, Finnick takes you all by himself.

At the top of the roof, you take a moment to catch your breath.

“Where’s Taurus?” Hydri asks, looking between you and Finnick.

“Dead.” you tell her, moving along the top of the roof to find a way out. The gap between roof to roof is narrow, you could take this jump in your sleep, “He couldn’t get through the window in time, so he stayed back to help us, but we’re not out of the woods yet.”

You pull yourself on top of the safety wall on the roof, getting to your feet. You shed the backpack, curse the bulletproof vest for getting in the way, and then you throw. The backpack clears the wall without a problem, and you look back at the others.

“We have to keep moving.” you insist.

You back up as much as you can afford, preparing for the jump.

“(Y/n)--!” Finnick yells.

You throw yourself forward in a run, taking the leap. The second roof is a little lower, which is perfect, you land onto the safety wall below, and tumble for a moment. When you catch yourself, you look right back at the others, who are hanging over to make sure you’re okay.

“It’s not a bad jump. Toss me the Holo.” you hold out your hands.

Finnick tosses it to you, and then he throws his backpack next to yours. He mirrors the way you had gotten onto the wall, before hopping over too. Then Hydri, and then Alioth. Just as you all get your shit back together, there’s more peacekeepers coming.

The four of you keep moving, onto the next roof. Then, you force them all to hide against the wall as you take a look at the Holo. The peacekeepers are nearby, they’re an entire rooftop over, and they have no clue what direction you guys actually moved in.

The Holo offers little help, from what you can see, there’s no faint orange dots. But the nearest solid orange one is literally in the street below. There’s no way you’d want to go down there, and from what Hydri said, the alleyway ended with that metal door. If you get down right now, then you’d have to trigger the trap when you step on it.

Unless you’d rather take a chance.

You shed the backpack, digging through the pockets until you pull out a metal ball. Taurus was using these to set off the traps that required weight and sight of something moving. All you have to do is throw this in the street below to set it off. The peacekeepers that are standing on the street will have to hide.

But it’ll take them a moment to realize what’s going on.

“What are you thinking?” Alioth asks.

“Just watch.” you move past all of them, taking one glance at the neighboring rooftops to see that there’s no one there.

You check the Holo again just to be sure, and then you get up, hurling the ball right where the pod should be. For a second, nothing happens.

Then the ground opens up, and starts to crumble.

“Oh shit.” you say, “Nearest rooftop--now!”

The rumbling of the ground gets louder, and you can hear the yells of the peacekeepers. Finnick and Alioth are the first to the rooftop away from the street--the far back one. Alioth sheds all his gear, Finnick gets down to grab his foot, and then he boots Alioth up.

Alioth squirms for a moment, but he gets up, leaning over for his shit. Finnick tosses them up, and Alioth takes it, and throws it behind him, completely disregarding it. And considering you all are on a time limit, it matters a ton.

Next is Hydri, but she insists her stuff goes up first, since everything inside is important. Anyone can read a map, but you all navigating the city without it will be hell. 

You and Finnick stare at each other for a moment, and since you already know what he’s going to say, you hand the Holo off, then the backpack, and Alioth pulls you up with Hydri barely helping. The second that you’re on the higher roof, you’ve thrown yourself over the side.

The building Finnick’s on is tilting towards the gaping hole in the street, getting further and further away from you guys.

Pain strikes your heart, and you panic a bit when Finnick tries to take off the backpack.

“Jump!” you yell to him, “I’ve got you!”

Finnick listens to you, leaving the backpack and all on as he backs up a bit, gets a running start and bolts for the wall. You lean down as far as you can without losing your balance.

Finnick jumps, and with the amount of distance between the two buildings--you’re sure he won’t make it.

Then, his hand hits yours, and you’re reaching down with a second hand to grab his wrist.

Together, you and Alioth pull Finnick up the wall and into the roof with you guys. Once he’s inside, Finnick stumbles and falls onto his back, breathing heavy. You crouch down next to him, placing your hand on his chest.

“You’re okay?”

Finnick takes a breath in, “You were afraid.”

You crack a smile, “Of course I was.”

Offering your hand to him, he takes it. You pull him onto his feet with barely any struggle, patting his back as you move past him to gather your things again. You buckle the backpack, back in place, and take the Holo from Hydri.

“We should be good for a while.” you look up to Hydri.

“Ladder.” Alioth tells you guys, kicking off a hatch, “We should keep moving.”

“Ready to go, Finnick?” you ask.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Finnick says, giving you a smile.

--

You stare at the bedroom, “This feels weird to do.”

“You’re the one that said you wanted to have an apartment in the Capitol.”

You make a face at Finnick, tilting your head, “There’s a difference between getting a brand new apartment and sleeping in someone else’s bed.”

“Then go sleep in the living room.” Finnick heads into the bedroom, tossing his backpack onto a chair.

“How about you go sleep in a different room.” you jut your thumb towards the door, “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Finnick gives you a cheeky grin as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking off his bulletproof vest, “Also there are no other rooms besides the living room.”

You sigh, grabbing the door knob, “Goodnight, Finnick.”

“You’re seriously going out there?” Finnick asks, throwing the vest onto the armchair with his backpack, “You’d rather sleep on a couch than a bed?”

“I’d rather sleep alone.” you clarify, “But I’m not getting that either way.”

Finnick pats the bed next to him, “We can make a pillow wall.”

“I’d rather deal with the neck pain.”

“Don’t be a wuss.” Finnick says.

He knew that would make you hesitate. 

And you can tell by the smile creeping onto his face more and more as he pats the bed again, “Come on.” he sings.

You squint, “Why are you so eager?”

“Don’t wanna sleep alone.” Finnick is now removing his shoes, “Haven’t really slept alone in years.”

You take in a deep breath, “That’s not what I expected to hear, and it was the wrong thing to say on your part, too. Going to the living room.”

“You can at least sleep on the floor.”

“The likeness of you staring at me all night is too high.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself.” Finnick scoffs, hurling a shoe at you.

You catch it without a problem, “That’s all I am, sweetheart.”

Finnick’s eyebrows skyrocket, “Sweetheart?”

“God--fuck you.” you turn around, his shoe in hand as you move to the living room.

Finnick is laughing, and he stumbles to catch his footing as he attempts to catch up with you, “You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“Or you could sleep in the living room.”

“Which would still be on the floor.” Finnick says.

You pause in the hallway, watching Alioth and Hydri from it. The two of them are getting along well, Hydri is pretty upset over losing Taurus though. Unfortunately, you didn’t know him very well, therefore can’t mourn for him the same way they can. It was a noble thing he did.

Yet he also took all his weapon supplies down with him when he did it, which is a huge loss. He had--basically--an infinite number of those heavy, metal balls. As for you guys, it’s a limited number, and each one lost brings five pounds out of the backpack. You all discovered that after using so many after Taurus was gone.

Finnick’s not wrong about the living room either, there’s only two couches. And the only thing that looks remotely comfortable after that is the fur rug that’s also kinda matted because the people that lived here apparently didn’t know how to take care of it.

“I’ll take the floor.” You tell Finnick, heading back into the room. You drop everything off by the door.

“No, I’ll take the floor.”

You ignore him, unbuckling the vest as fast as possible before tossing it onto the backpack, and then you turn on Finnick, holding your fists up. 

Finnick laughs, but mirrors your stance, “Bring it on, sister.”

“Oh, right.” you laugh with him, before aiming straight for his gut.

Finnick goes to grab you, but you’re too quick for him, bouncing in your boots as you take a jab at his face. It’s not anything too rough, more of a warning for him to knock off his own shenanigans.

Finnick somehow manages to get a hold of you at some point, twisting your arm and giving you a look, “The floor is mine.”

“Just a minute ago you were arguing for the bed.” you grab onto his wrist to keep him from twisting any further.

“Then I’ll take the bed,” he says.

“I’m fine with that!” you say, swinging your leg up for his crotch.

Finnick doesn’t flinch, staring you right in the eyes. And especially since you didn’t actually fall through with it, it’s extra awkward.

“Get me a pillow and a blanket.” you tell him.

“But you’re sleeping on the bed.” Finnick says.

“Then I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket, geez.” you push him away, since his grasp has considerably weakened.

You start pulling off your shoes, tossing them to your backpack. Once they’re off, you remove the socks too so that your feet can finally breathe, after hours of being walked on and the amount of sweat that they’ve had to endure. When you go over to the bed, you take a seat on it, and then throw yourself back.

The mattress is obviously expensive, you can tell by the way you sink into it. You sigh, closing your eyes.

“Better than your mattress at home?” Finnick jokes.

“Unfortunately.” you say.

“I’m gonna sleep on the bed.” he tells you.

“Whatever, I don’t care anymore.” you say, “I’m actually heading to bed, though. So you can tell Hydri and Alioth that we’re done for the night and we’ll recollect in the morning.”

Finnick smiles, “Sure thing.”

Finnick leaves the room, and you take the time to go ahead and get back onto the bed. You carefully place the necklace onto the nightstand, being sure that it won’t fall off and onto the floor. Then, you get comfortable on the bed.

You all really should be keeping your shoes on and all of that, but it’s not realistic. You’re not going to be able to fall asleep with it on, plus it’ll be like a hundred degrees with that fucking bulletproof vest on.

Finnick comes into the room right as you’re getting comfortable. He tosses a water bottle at you, and you drink half of it before deciding to lay down officially.

“I feel kinda shitty that we’re leaving them out there.” Finnick says, getting into the bed, “I mean, the two victors taking the bed?”

“They told me that I could have it.”

“Whatever.” Finnick laughs, “Hydri said that there was a bedroom back here, and that was it.”

Finnick goes to pull the blanket up, but you kick him with your foot, “Go sleep in the bathtub.”

He rolls his eyes, “Goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Touch me even once, and I swear to god you’re going to wake up with a knife to your throat.”

“That’s not very safe.”

“Neither is touching me.”

[tanjhero-a]

Unsatisfied

(Kyoujurou Rengoku x GN!Reader)

A/N: this is based off a dream I had, actually. It motivated me enough to actually write and complete a story. It’s a bit... dramatic, tbh, but it’ll have to do. 

Word Count: 3,000+

Unrequited Love, Sexual Themes (this fic is not NSFW), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Your life revolves around being unsatisfied. 

You are the third sibling- the youngest sibling- and more often than not, you lived in your sisters shadows. The oldest is a snobby, mean artist who abandoned you and your other sister years ago. The second oldest is Shiho, a beautiful prostitute who you lived with. 

And even though you hate the sister who abandoned you, you think you probably hate Shiho the most.

It was a classic Cinderella tale, but perhaps a bit more dirty. You were not as pretty or as talented or as clever as Shiho and this was made clear to you- it was clear that your place was below her, living in her shadow and cleaning up her literal and figurative messes as you were more or less the janitor of the prostitute house you lived in.

You lived only to be unsatisfied. Because this- this life you’re living? What on earth is satisfying about it?

There- once- was an answer to that question. The answer came in the form of a man who was as bright as the sun and warm like it, too. You had been out in town, coming back from the river nearby where you had washed the laundry when you met him. He had actually run into you on accident in the street- making you stumble and fall over- the clean clothes once again soiled as they hit the dirty ground. 

And when you glared up at the offender- you faltered your nasty selection of words and choked on your tongue. 

Because who could be mad at someone so beautiful?

His name is Rengoku Kyoujurou. A mouthful of a name for a mouthful of a man- he wasn’t plain or uninteresting in the slightest. And he was kind, too, and you knew this because he immediately flushed with embarrassment and helped you up off the ground before picking up your clothes and actually helped wash them again. 

You’ve never met someone like him before. 

—-

“There are many clothes in this pile!” Rengoku had commented, squatting next to you beside the river as he scrubbed vigorously. “Do you have a big family?”

A part of you was flattered he wanted to know that about you. Most people didn’t want to know anything about you. “Of a sort… It’s more like a shared household… but we’re sort of like family.” It’s the best way you can describe it. The other girls in the house were always considerate of you, and so was the house mother. You suppose that’s better than nothing.

“Well, it’s certainly kind of you to wash all their clothes! It’s good to have some family rather than none at all, I think!” The man cheerily declares as he puts the clean clothes in the basket and reaches for more soiled ones. 

Your heart stung at his kind words. Was that really true…? You suppose it’s easy for him to say that. But you smile and nod at him anyway. 

—-

And even though he caused you to stay out late and rewash dirty clothes, you had fun! And that was a first- because when was the last time you felt this happy? Rengoku was a lovely man who made you laugh and smile, and he was gentlemanly enough to even walk you home after you were done washing.

If he was surprised or disgusted by where you led him, he didn’t show it- and for that you were grateful. It was clearly a prostitute house but he didn’t say a thing besides smile at you and once again apologize for running into you.

And that’s when the dream ended.

Your sister had come out then, an angry look on her face as she stormed over to you and asked ‘where have you been? Do you see how late it is?’

To anyone else, it might have seemed like she was worried for you. But you knew that wasn’t the case.

Rengoku did not, though- because he fell into the party of ‘anyone else’. You saw his eyes widen at the spectacle that was your sister. You saw him smile as he introduced himself gently to her, explaining the situation and how he was to blame.

And you saw your sister hide all her venom as she smiled back like a snake, assuring him that it was no problem and she was just worried about her dear sibling for not coming home. 

That is when the dream ended, because Rengoku stopped looking at you, and only looked at her, just like everyone else. 

And that is not the end of the story, either, because the man came back. He found you as you were mopping the entryway, and you were quite dumbfounded that he was here in the first place. 

You asked him warily if he was here for a session. His laughter was genuine as he assured you- no, that wasn’t why he was here- but he actually wanted to see you.

A lie if you ever heard one. But your lonely, desperate self believed in it as you eagerly sat down with him and let him make you smile and laugh once again. 

—-

“Your brother sounds like a wonderful kid,” you smiled at Rengoku’s story. He lit up a thousand times brighter when he spoke about his brother, Senjurou. “It’s wonderful he has a big brother like you to rely on.”

“Well, I do my best,” he smiles. “I’m sure your sister is the same way!” 

You hum, fingers twitching in your lap. “Yes, well…” And then you perk up. “You forgot to tell me about the time he made gyoza! You mentioned that earlier!”

Rengoku, bless him, takes the bait and starts a long winded tale of how his brother made gyoza and oil went everywhere. It was wonderfully funny and made you laugh despite the tight feeling in your chest.

—-

And once again, Shiho came walking by, afterglow making her skin glimmer and shine. As beautiful and lovely as ever, she captured Rengoku’s attention again, and Shiho swiped him right from under your feet. 

His visits become semi-frequent. He’ll come to your little house, chat with you in the entryway, and then he goes out with Shiho into town or into her room. It was only a matter of time before he started to do that.

It was only a matter of time before you had to start cleaning his messes, too, along with all the others. 

You, of course, knew better than to fall for Rengoku, but you did it anyway. So each time he came to see you- you cherished those moments. You were genuinely happy! 

But whenever Shiho came and you had to watch them flirt and dance together, an ugly, intense feeling of jealousy and hatred curled in your gut. 

Lately, you’ve been ignoring him. Whenever you see his bright hair walking down your street, you quickly hide away in another room and busy yourself with chores. It’s not like it matters- it’s not like he misses you like you so desperately miss him. It’s not like he’d even notice you were gone- the man never comes for you anyway. No one does. 

You live only to be unsatisfied.

—-

It’s another harsh night for you. Rengoku came by a few hours ago- you had been conveniently busy in a closet- and he was quickly whisked away by Shiho. Every so often as you clean the halls, you walk by her room and hear the sounds.

You pretend you don’t know what’s happening as you keep cleaning, keep doing your job. 

It’s been getting harder to ignore Rengoku, but easier as well. You figure that the longer you pretend he’s not here, the sooner he will escape your heart. 

The grip you have on your broom is tight- almost enough to splinter and break the wood until a hand touches your shoulder and surprises you enough that the broom drops to the ground. 

“Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you,” it’s Rengoku. Of course it is. You warily look away from him as you mumble ‘it’s alright’, picking up your broom. “I’m glad I saw you before I left. It’s been some time since we’ve talked!” 

“I suppose so,” you choke out between frowning lips. You do your best to avoid his fiery gaze. “It’s late, and you’re probably tired. I wouldn’t want to keep you.” Your shoulders hunch as you try to walk away. 

The smell he carries makes your stomach lurch and flip. Enough so that you may even vomit- but you don’t get the chance to run away just yet. His hand once again clasps your shoulder. It’s warm, you notice, and you hate that. 

“Are you alright?” 

And the words shock you, almost. You finally look at him- and you see his worried features. The twitch in his brow, the look in his eye. And it hurts.

Why would he be worried for you? 

Suddenly angry, you smack his hand off your shoulder and scowl at him. “What makes you think I was ever alright to begin with?” You hiss, and your anger startles Rengoku enough where his eyebrows shoot up and he takes a step back from you, his mouth hanging open. 

That hurts, too. Everything hurts. Him being worried for you, being shocked by you, just… Rengoku. 

He makes you hurt. 

“Just leave me be, Rengoku. Please.” That’s all you can say before you quickly retreat, tail between your legs as you disappear from his sight. Your lip wobbles as eventually your pace turns into a run- running so fast so you can hide away in your room and pretend like you don’t exist for a little while. 

Instead- you run right into the house mother. You’re already in tears and you gasp in shock from running into her, instantly taking a step back as you shamefully bow your head and apologize. “I’m so sorry, mother- I’m so-”

“My dear- what’s wrong?” The house mother asks you, grabbing your arms gently with care. 

And you break in that gentle hold, letting out so many emotions that should have escaped long ago. 

—-

You tell the house mother everything once she was able to lead your sobbing self into the privacy of her room. You tell her about how you hate your sister- how you hate living here- how you love Rengoku but you hate him, too. 

“You’ve been holding yourself back for so long,” she sighs as she wipes your tears with a small cloth, cupping your face in her hand. Her eyes are shining with empathy for you as her lipstick stained lips frown at the sight of you. “You are not like your sister. You don’t have to stay here. If you want to run away from it all and carve your own path… I wouldn’t blame you, nor stop you.” Her head tilts. “Is that what you want?” 

Is it? You’ve never thought about it before. You’ve never thought about running away- being alone- because it never seemed like an option. “Do… do you think I could do it?”

“You can do anything, dear,” the house mother tells you softly. “The only thing stopping you is your fear.”

—-

Your fear is, to put it simply— immense. 

The fear of running into the unknown, being fully alone and independent- scared you to no end. What if you failed? What if your life got worse? You can’t possibly imagine life being worse than it is now, but you know it’s still a possibility. 

Because all things considered, you have a roof over your head and warm food waiting for you when you need it. That might change if you decided to escape your safety net. 

In the end, you decide that running away is cowardly. It’s around a month later of debating and thinking heavily on your choice before you finally make it. 

No, you would not run. You wouldn’t run at all, even from Rengoku. Instead, you would finally be honest. 

You would speak to Rengoku and confess your feelings. You would try to speak with Shiho and see if you can convince her to help you move away from this house. Because, yes- you want to leave- but you cannot do it alone. 

Unfortunately, you speak to Shiho first. You discovered quickly that this was the wrong decision. 

Once you tell her about your feelings for Rengoku and your cruel jealousy- your petty, ugly feelings that had you feeling depressed and unsatisfied- she threw a fit. You suppose you deserve it for being so selfish. 

Selfish, unworthy, cruel, heartless, unthankful! 

Those were the things Shiho screamed at you as she tore your clothes and tossed you outside. 

Needless to say, you didn’t have her support. 

It wasn’t all bad. You still had the lending hand of the other prostitutes that lived in the house and the mother— when Shiho had stormed off, they brought you clothes and food and encouragement. 

Maybe this is what Rengoku meant, all those months ago when you first met. You might not be a conventional family by any means or bound by blood, but these girls had your back and believed in you more than your real family ever did. 

At least you had them— it was definitely better than having nothing at all. Just like he said. 

Truthfully, you worry for the man. You do not know the extent of his feelings for your sister- you hope he is smarter than you and never thought about falling in love with her. While your sister is charming and beautiful, you know she is only a snake in disguise, slithering in the dark, waiting to strike. She doesn’t care about anyone other than herself. 

You hope he doesn’t buy whatever lie she inevitably feeds him when he asks where you went. Because you know Rengoku will ask. Despite how you lashed out at him, despite the fact that he never looks your way anymore and despite all your self deprecating thoughts, you know Rengoku cares. He will notice you’re gone. 

That’s the belief you cling to, anyway. 

—-

One of the prostitutes was kind enough to give you pocket money. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to find a place to spend the night. You spend all the money she lent you on cheap inns- you starve yourself all the while because you definitely don’t have enough money for food. 

You’ve applied to several different jobs, but the responses so far were negative. Who wants to hire the cleaner of a prostitute house? Not many. 

It’s another night. You’re in the middle of wandering the street, holding the small, pathetic coin purse you were given tightly in your hands- when you bump into somebody. 

You don’t look up. You give the person a weak apology as you continue walking forward- but the voice stops you. 

“___?” 

The coin purse in your hand drops. 

“Rengoku?” 

It’s as if time stops when you meet his eyes again. It’s felt like it’s been so long- so long since you’ve seen those beautiful eyes. 

...a few moments pass, and Rengoku gives you a soft, worried look as he smiles. Slowly he bends over, picks up your coin purse and gently places it back in your palm. “You should really stop dropping things around me.” It’s a weak joke, but you laugh anyway. 

“I-I’m sorry. You surprised me.” You clutch the purse tightly once more, over your heart. “...Thank you.” 

He shakes his head. “Where have you been? I tried to ask around, but no one had answers.” 

Figures. The girls are trying to protect you, your sister is probably pretending you don’t exist. Your body deflates a little bit at the look he gives you. 

“...Around,” you weakly shrug. “I don’t really think you’d enjoy the details, but I don’t work at the house anymore. Trying to find something new.” 

Rengoku’s eyes shine. “I would,” he urges. “I would enjoy the details. Can you have tea with me?” 

It’s just a friendly invitation, but your heart flutters nonetheless. Which is pathetic- you’d think your crush on Rengoku would have whisked away by now. “Mm,” you nod. “I would like that… very much.” 

—-

That’s how you end up in a quaint, cute little tea house, sitting at a table across from a man who is much too good for you. A man who is finely dressed in warrior’s clothes and a clean, neat haori. Compared to you and your dirty, cheap yukata- you really don’t look like you’re supposed to be seated together. 

Rengoku insists he will pay, which you are thankful for. You don’t know if it’s because he can tell you are living off the few coins you have or if it’s because he’s just gentlemanly like that, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. 

Despite how burning hot it is, you drink an entire cup as soon as the tea is delivered to your table. It’s been awhile since you’ve had anything pleasant and hot, you don’t mind how it scalds your tongue. 

“So,” Rengoku watches you from across the table. “Tell me everything.” The way he tilts his head and stares at you tells you that he doesn’t just want a poor explanation on why you moved. 

He wants everything. 

“Are you still seeing Shiho?” 

The question throws him off guard. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to completely avoid his question with another question- one that is so personal, as well. “Not at the moment, no. She seemed… upset at me. I don’t know why, so I haven’t been back since I learned about your disappearance.” 

“Do you care for her?” 

His face twists as he grows silent. You frown. 

“...It’s okay to say you do.” 

“I’m not sure if it runs that deep,” Rengoku tells you, his hands placed on top of the wooden table and folding together. “She is beautiful and lively, but I don’t know much about her. She is a prostitute, after all. Our relationship was never truly intimate.” 

You nod. His answer… relaxes you a bit. It makes it easier for you if you know that he doesn’t love a woman like her. 

“My sister is cruel,” you start simply. “I have always been her little slave. Regardless of what I wanted, I had to follow in her shadow and do as she pleased. The only reason I worked at the whore house was because it’s where she led me. I had nowhere else to go.” Your eyes wander to your tea cup. It’s empty, but the porcelain is beautiful. “I’ve been… so sad, my entire life. I was never truly happy. But then I-“ you choke a bit and clear your throat, lick your lips. “I met you… and I was happy. And that’s the truth, Rengoku.” 

You finally meet his gaze then, trying your best to smile at him. “I was so happy to talk with you. You spoke to me like I was a person- like I mattered. And then… You saw Shiho, and a seed in my heart grew.” You place a hand over your chest. “Making me jealous… resentful. Angry. Because I loved you so much, and you didn’t love me. But you were right there. You were always right there, sleeping with someone that I-“ your voice cracks again as you begin to weep. “Someone that I hate more than anything in this world. So I had to leave.” 

You don’t bother to look at him. Your eyes close, your head tilted down as a hand tries to cover and hide your tears away from him. The two of you sit in a tense silence, but you expected that to be the case. You had confessed a lot to him. 

A sniffle leaves you, eventually, and you hear a deep sigh from across you. But you’re too afraid to look up- you can’t , especially not when you can tell he’s starting to stand. 

He’s going to leave. He’s going to leave because you are gross and disgusting and he hates you-

But… once again, that warm hand touches your shoulder- so, so gently. And when you finally uncover your eyes, you see Rengoku sitting himself right beside you as he keeps his hand on you, a kind smile on his lips. 

“It’s alright. Come here.” 

His arms open, and you let yourself fall into them and wrap your arms tightly around his body. He holds you securely against his chest, cooing in your ear as he rubs your back. 

Truthfully, it’s embarrassing to be held and consoled in a public place like this. But you try not to pay that part any mind. 

“I’m sorry I have caused you pain,” Rengoku whispers in your ear. “I never meant to- I truly enjoyed my time with you. I never meant to become an obstacle or a reason your life became difficult. Forgive me.” The words are honest and soft. 

“You helped me, Rengoku,” you sniffle again as you shake your head. Slowly you untangle from him, hands moving up to cup his cheeks. It takes a lot of courage, holding him like this and meeting his eye, but you do it anyway. Even if your hands are trembling. “I don’t regret meeting you or loving you. Loving you gave me the push I needed to fix my life. If anything- I am sorry for using you in such a way. It shouldn’t have happened this way- you don’t need to be involved in such a personal issue.” Your forehead gently presses against his and you close your eyes. “But I am still glad. I’m glad you came. Thank you, Rengoku.” 

His warm hands place themselves on top of yours. “Where will you go now?” This question… you purse your lips as you lean away from him, biting your cheek. It seems to be enough of an answer for him as his hold tightens. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” 

You cannot lie. “...No. But I will find something, eventually.” 

Rengoku’s head shakes in your hold before he places your hands away, setting them in your lap. But he doesn’t let go. “You should come with me. It’s the least I can offer, and you deserve a roof over your head. Food in your belly.” 

Before you can even reject the offer, his hand raises and pinches your face. He’s smiling cheekily at you, a glimmer in his eye. “Don’t think about saying no. I’m not going to accept it! Don’t you want to meet Senjurou?” 

“...” you bite your lip. “...I can help make gyoza.” 

Rengoku laughs, his head thrown back as his laughter bounces off the tea house’s walls, and you realize how much you missed that sound.

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Another Head Hangs Lowly

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

Jane watched the shuttle depart with growing unease- she was so close to the one she loved. After eight hundred and fifty-four days, Kaidan was within arms reach if she would just try. Her entire crew, possibly a call away. But trying was hard. Her body shuttered, growing cold for the countless time over the past couple of days. Her mind threatened to leave again, returning to that odd static space that made everything around her feel woozy.

But Jane wasn't Mary.

Why would they come back for Jane when they had forsaken Mary?

Why hadn't they come for her?

Jane could still reach them, grab a cab... pull the whole last minute reuniting in the spaceport bit. It would be romantic- a story of a tragic misunderstanding. Of sorrow and unbearable loss. Or it could be an awkward rejection—a judgment of what she did not do.

She was so close to returning to a part of her old life- how far that would go, she didn't know. She wanted to trust the process, hoped that the Alliance would treat her with compassion; eventually, they would find her. There was only so long she could avoid biometric scanners and technology that would reveal her. The longer she dragged it out a worsening consequence she would face. The Galaxy quickly returned to normal it seemed every day that a part of the old way returned. Jane didn't want to go back any longer... the extreme the thought reached became reprehensible.

The Recruit stalked back into the house, catching the tree-lined glimpse of the bay in the distance. The city's spires were in poor shape, although it was no longer burning. As the memories came filtering through, with the full strength of a Reaper laser igniting in her headspace, she had to turn away from the view. She ran her hand along the couch before slipping onto the surface, flicking through the channels to try and distract herself from... well, everything.

She stopped upon a familiar sight, a chrome android stood behind Joker. The static erupted through her body. Jane knew the beam had not destroyed the AI, but to see an example... without warning, without a chance to realign her perceptions before seeing something so jarring. Joker alone was enough, she turned off the TV before her world blurred entirely.

This would be a long few weeks in the Alenko household.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Evelyn babbled on about the wonders of the galaxy, the kid most excited about her visit to the Spectre visitor center. In contrast, the spectacle of other planets, multiple species, and wondrous vistas were left on the wayside. Helen and Roy seemed to enjoy their time with Kaidan; Roy was a lot more boisterous about his visits but the joy was peppered with worry. Helen watched her quietly. Jane was careful not to betray emotion.

"I'm glad you all had a good time," Jane forced a smile, the ugly jealousy squeezed her heart, "but I should be going."

"But Kaidan's coming over for dinner. You should stay," Roy gruffed.

This was the exact time she should have come clean. She should have come clean long ago. When she first found out who they were. But after these last weeks and the threat of running headfirst into the man that had abandoned her, Jane was running scared.

"That's nice of you, but I made plans already," it wasn't a complete lie, though plans were just a hotel room near Alliance headquarters.

"That's a shame," Roy conceded.

Jane left for her room, but not alone. Little Evelyn trailed behind her.

"So, I met another Spectre, well three actually," she said smugly once they were behind closed doors.

"Oh?"

"Kaidan is a Spectre," Eveyln said matter-of-factly, "did you know him?"

Jane slammed her footlocker shut a little too violently, "yeah."

"I learned there was only two human Spectres," The kid shuffled onto the bed, leaning over the locker. The kid's light brown eyes looked at her with scrutiny.

"Yup," it came out nonchalant, but a tear slipped out.

Evelyn grabbed her face, morphing it around, "you're the Shepard."

"Kid-"

"He was sad too."

"There's things-," Jane sighed, gently pulling her face away, "did you tell anyone?"

"Spectre missions are super-secret," She replied solemnly, "I got you something, though! Close your eyes!"

She complied, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Open!"

A grin crawled across her face, the largest sticker she had seen covered the top of her footlocker. The SPECTRE logo proudly displayed on the top of the otherwise plain luggage," this might give me away."

"Or make someone think twice before messing with your stuff!"

"Good point," she tried to hide the roll of her eyes. It wasn't that the gift was stupid; it was just another fucking reminder.

Jane said her goodbyes to the rest of the family.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

It was, admittedly, an excursion to the shuttle station hoisting a footlocker around. Over a shoulder, with both hands, even floating it biotically grew tiring. She could have taken a ride, but she claimed to want the walk. She liked walking.

True enough.

But it was to avoid questions or from her mouth from spilling out secrets that were way past due. Was it a betrayal at this point? One more in the past, when they feared what had happened to their son. She could have offered some insight, some answer other than the limbo of possibilities.

Fuck.

The locker tumbled from her grip, descending down the path forcing her to jog after it. A few tumbles down, and clothes and her possessions started to fly from the footlocker littering the trail. Taking up precious time to sweep up the articles as the crate came to a stop on the base of the downward slope.

"You okay?"

"Just clumsy," she mumbled, playing through an inventory of her things, "fuck, the chit."

"Let me help," the man's omni-tool lit up, "ah, over there-"

The figure's shadowed arm pointed to something a couple of meters downhill of them, Jane ducked past him beelining for the chit. His tool fired a beam of light in the direction he pointed out, cutting through the twilight darkness with ease. Jane slid to the ground, but the man had the same idea the light from his omni-tool directly striking her in the face.

"You must be-" his voice trembled, gentle fingers snaked over her wrist, "Shepard?"

Her eyes slowly adjusted, the moment dragging as the light dipped out of her direct vision. His left thumb caressed a scarred cheek making sure he didn't see a ghost again. No, she was tangible, different, but it was the woman that haunted his life.

"Kaidan?" he was little more than a blur.

Tenderly she was pulled to her feet but not so carefully crushed into him. The line of his jaw pressed uncomfortably into her skull, nuzzling into the padding of hair beneath it. Pulling in an unfamiliar sweet scent, one far outside the simple requisition supplies the military offered. He liked it.

"Mary, you-" she felt the tears before the break of his voice.

"You didn't come back for me," Jane snarled, shoving him away from her.

Kaidan's back cushioned him against the tree and now she could get a better look at him. His hair had grown out, the curls cresting his earlobes still salt and peppered down to the scraggly beard- it was likely a little past regulation but who would dare fault him? His shirt fit tighter around the torso, but it looked good on him. The tired and hollow eyes she did not like.

"You were dead," he exclaimed, charging back for her, "they found your tags, what little remained of your armour."

"I waited for- waited for you at the beam! Eight hundred and fifty-two days and you couldn't manage to come looking for me?"

"I told you I couldn't handle losing you again," he wasn't entirely angry, the sorrow coming out in every beat but he stopped his charge. His hands scrounged through his hair, eyes wild as they searched for something, "I didn't want to see- to go back to-"

"You couldn't handle what I had done?"

"What?" Kaidan's head shook, "besides, it's not like you made it easy. Who is this Jane? Did you not want to come back?"

"Fuck you!" she screamed, blue light dancing around her.

"Don't be irrational," Kaidan chided.

Jane took the first few steps forward, the man mirrored her. While he sought peace, she could only feel the bubbling of resentment. Everything in her ran hot, then suddenly cold in rapid succession. At the moment, she didn't know if she wanted blood, a screaming match, or to be held. The reality was a mix of all three.

"Mary! Kai!"

The biotics stopped, glancing up the hill.

Helen wedged her way between them, no fear showing from the small woman, the immensity of her aura enough to overcome the obstacle of darkness. Kaidan backed down first, his head lowering. Jane took a few moments longer to quell but only looked away with a huff. She wouldn't be cowed.

More footsteps followed in the silent moments that followed.

Mr. Alenko was the first to come into view, his hands resting on his legs as his breath caught up, "Helen, what's wrong? You left in- Recruit? Kaidan?"

"Roy, you should meet Mary Shepard," Helen half hissed.

"Recruit?"

Jane's head hung, running a hand through her hair in an effort to soothe, now she was cowed into submission. All the fight wound out of her, drained like a ballon of water.

Helen returned her gaze to the two of them, "you'll both come back home and talk this out," her finger pointed at both of them, "like adults. We are not breaking anything. Kai? Ja-Mary?"

"Ma'am."

"Yes, Mom."

A small hand took Jane's, pulling her down once the rest of the group was out of earshot, "You would have won."

Jane shot her a look, despite how little it mattered under the canopy of trees and stars.

"I wanted to see a Spectre fight."

It felt unnatural to laugh.

[theofficersacademy]

Continental winds from the north take up their arms as the long daylight hours wane, and drive out the last of summer’s oppressive heat. As cooler air follows behind, signs of the vibrant harvest season bloom across Fodlan. Hunting dogs pull eagerly at their leashes, scythes are taken down to reap golden fields, and celebration rises in feasting to give thanks for another bountiful year.

The students and faculty sent out on the investigations of the Relic rumors have now returned to Garreg Mach, and life is once more back to normal. The students of the Blue Lions house do not get to rest long, however, as the Church has a new mission for them... The Five Great Lords of the Roundtable have received a threat to the relic Thyrsus’ safety. Aware of the situation surrounding the Relics in the previous moon, they have made a formal request for aid to protect one of the Alliance’s most sacred treasures. In spite of the Alliance’s Founding Day celebrations, the Blue Lions of Faerghus find themselves packing up for a trip to Gloucester territory...

Blue Lions Mission: Protect the Thyrsus!

We are back on our regular season rotation, and this one belongs to the Blue Lions! As before, threads using tasks from the Blue Lions board must contain a Blue Lions character as a participant, but there are also non-mission tasks available to everyone without restrictions.

It soon occurs to everyone involved that sending the Blue Lions during a time when the Alliance celebrates its independence from Faerghus is a gaffe at best and a serious insult at worst. The prideful lords outwardly take the assistance in stride, but in private you are all relegated to heavy labor and busywork in preparation for the festivities, far from the Thyrsus you're supposed to be protecting. It might be more tolerable if it wasn't for this feeling that the lords somehow blame you for the mixup, and not the schmoozing cardinal that arranged the mission in the first place...

BL Mission Task Board

Dozens of lords coming into the Gloucester Estate means dozens of horses that need to be stabled up and taken care of for as long as their owners are here. The tedious task of taking care of these animals has, unsurprisingly, been dropped on your lap. This morning, shortly after putting out some horses to pasture, a Demonic Beast attacks. You’re able to fend it off, but the horses have fled in the confusion. Hopefully you can round them all up before their owners begin to miss them…  

A personal invitation has been extended to Lord Acheron, fulfilling what rumors say is a political favor. You have the distinct honor of escorting him and his elderly aunt to the festivities. Remember to nod and smile. [grants Heavy Armor +1]  

This year, House Gloucester holds the distinct honor of hosting the Crescent Moon Ball, the formal ball meant for celebrating the Alliance's Founding Day this moon. Dress up and observe the latest fashion trends, schmooze like the good little nobles you are, and hit up the local hotties. You might get some information about the Alliance’s Relics for your trouble...  

Tourney time! Leicester takes pride in their own brand of knighthood and chivalry. The Horsebow Moon has always been a prime time for archery competitions and jousting. Try your hand at the games, and show off your skill with a bow! [grants Bow +1]  

Part of training to be a young Alliance noble is participating in mock roundtable meetings, and the three-day event this year is made even more exciting by the presence of students from backgrounds outside of the usual big names in nobility. According to Golden Deer students, the script is the same every year, and you prepare to state your facts for and against declaring war on Almyra. Yet when the meeting begins... you discover that the topic is actually about separating from the Kingdom. Bullshit your way through it and try not to offend anyone.

NEW! You’re given the bad news with the typical aristocratic tact: it would be prudent to recuse yourselves from the investigations as they are carried out. That is to say, that many of the Alliance knights won’t allow you to enter the Gloucester mansion to see the crime scene for yourselves. It seems like not everyone got the memo, though, as a pair of greenhorn knights seem willing to escort you inside. They’re suspicious, but if you act like you’re suppose to be here hopefully they’ll let it slide. [grants Authority +1]

NEW! Your investigations bring you to the hunting forests, sitting on the border between the counties of Gloucester and Riegan. As you make your way through the murky forest, pushing your way past overgrown brush and hedge, you spot a brilliant red light gleaming in the darkness. When you approach, you recognize Thyrsus... but see no hand that holds it. Moving under its own power, it fires a potent Ragnarok spell over your heads. Well.... unfortunately there hasn’t been a “Combat Against Flying Weapons” elective for you to take. You’ll have to improvise as you go! [grants Any Weapon +1]

Non-Mission Task Board

It’s time for the seasonal fishing tournament! This year, however, it seems a strange mixture of fish has been added to the pond. Why do these fish have teeth!? And why does this one give off an electrical shock!? Some anglers might find this just an exciting change to the ordinarily boring tournament, but others might feel they need to investigate the sabotage... Or perhaps YOU’RE the one who dumped these exotic fish in the pond. [grants Axe +1]  

Legend has it, any who chance to sit beneath the boughs of the old willow tree at the far back of the courtyard fall subject to a curious charm: they find their tongues tied if they should attempt to speak a lie, and they find themselves compelled to obey any instruction given them by another party, no matter how silly or untoward. Most sensible students diligently avoid this tree lest they find themselves put under its spell, but some braver souls take up a seat - after all, it’s the perfect place for a high stakes game of truth or dare. Is the legend true, however, or is it merely a matter of vain pride? [grants Reason +1]  

A new trend has swept over Garreg Mach in these early autumn days of the Horsebow Moon. Various notes have been springing up around campus. Some claim to be looking for love. Others simply want to yell into the void about a frustrating assignment they’ve been given. And yet others might bemoan the presence of ghosts in the monastery’s halls… The letters are many and varied. The one thing they have in common is the fact they are all anonymous, and there is an implicit understanding that discretion is required to play the game. Will you take up a mystery pen pal?  

The students return to the monastery with some answers, but more questions than ever before. What information you manage to uncover is swiftly censured by the Church as they continue to formulate their response on this matter. For those who live their lives pursuing knowledge, it’s time to bust into the restricted sections of the library and really start looking for the answers you deserve.

NEW! You spot a new, unsigned flyer tacked onto the school bulletin board, “Assistance Needed. Battle prowess required. All interested parties, please meet with me at the back of the marketplace.” You meet with a tall, cloaked figure with dark-lensed spectacles and white hair peeking out of his hood. He can’t introduce himself, but he at least elaborates on his mission. You are to travel to an abandoned quarry in Faerghus and gather a bag’s worth of Nepenthe Ore. Of course, there’s a catch: a large spider-like automaton guards the quarry, frightening away intruders with strange noises and a powerful beam of concentrated magic. No one knows who built it, but regardless you’ll need to figure out a way to get past it.

NEW! A small flight of wild wyverns have roosted in the mountains nearby, resting before their next leg in their journey to their wintering grounds in the east. You could observe them from a safe distance and take notes on wyvern behavior and social interactions... but that’s some nerd shit. You’ve heard stories of knights leaping onto the backs of wild stallions and taming them with sheer grit and determination. Would that philosophy work on a wyvern? It’s on you to find out! [grants Flying +1]

NEW! Each and every class of students has upheld the time-honored tradition of organizing a “House Prank” to pull on their beloved faculty members, and your class will be no different. With the stress and excitement of the upcoming Battle of the Eagle and Lion palpable in the air, it’d be good to get a little harmless mischief in and have some fun. At your professor’s expense, of course.

Frequently Asked Questions

How does the divided task board work?

This season’s mission is assigned to the Blue Lions. Therefore, tasks from the ‘BL Mission Task Board’ must be undertaken by someone that is affiliated with the Blue Lions.

Tasks from the ‘Non-Mission Task Board’ have no house restriction and can be undertaken by anyone.

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads. You’re also more than welcome to worldbuild on your own, using these prompts as a base.

How do I claim the skill points?

In order to qualify for the skill point, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and preferably feature the task being completed; however, the point can still be claimed even if your muses narratively fail the task (failure is sometimes just as fun to write as success, after all). You do not need to message the masterlist to claim your skill point.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person! However, you can only claim the skill point for each task once.

What if my partner leaves or drops a skill point thread?

If the dropped thread has at least 2 notes (not counting likes, only reblogs with replies in them) and you have hit at least 400 words on your end, you may still claim the skill point.

Remember to use (and track!) the #toa open tag for any open threads, and you can also post a link to your open thread on the appropriate Discord channel! If you have any other questions or concerns, shoot us a message through the masterlist or on Discord!