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bad-fucking-omens · 2 years ago

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The Diner (Eddie Munson x OC)

Summary: I had left Hawkins in my rearview mirror five years ago. But the moment I saw a letter from Wayne Munson hidden in the stack of bills waiting on my counter, it felt as if I was back in my hometown, a heartbroken nineteen-year-old who had just had her entire world turned upside down - literally.

But Wayne deserved to know why I had left Hawkins. I knew he thought that he already knew why I left, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but there was another reason I had to leave that Godforsaken town far behind.

Length: 2.2K words

Warnings: ST4 V2 spoilers and minor grief/mourning

Read on AO3 or read below

ELIZABETH

I sighed as I finally began to sort through the tiny mountain of mail that I had been ignoring for the past couple days.

“Bill, bill, bill,” I muttered under my breath, setting each envelope aside to deal with them later.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw the smaller envelope tucked between two bills. My name and address was scrawled on the front in a familiar hand.

As soon as I recognized the handwriting, I felt as if I was back in Hawkins, five years younger and so overwhelmed with grief that I could barely move.

My hands shook as I turned the envelope over and opened it. I took a deep breath as I pulled the folded letter out of the envelope and slowly unfolded it.

‘Dear Lizzy (I hope I can still call you that),

I know that you’re probably wondering how I got your new address. Believe me, it wasn’t easy to find. I had to hire a private investigator to find you. I hope you can forgive me for that. But don’t worry, no one else but me knows where you are and I would never tell anyone about it.

I just couldn’t stand not knowing if you were alive or dead. Eddie was like a son to me, and you were like a daughter. After we lost him, I couldn’t handle thinking you were dead, too. I mean, what else could I think? You just up and left one day while I was at work. I couldn’t find you anywhere. I know you had your reasons for leaving and I doubt you meant to hurt me, but losing you felt like losing Eddie all over again.

I understand if you never want to see me again, if you want to just forget about the life you had before you moved, but I was hoping that you would meet me one last time. I just want to talk to you one last time. I’ll be at Freddie’s Diner on Jackson Street just outside of Indianapolis at 11 A.M. on August 12th. I hope you join me, but if you don’t, I promise I won’t bother you again.

Uncle Wayne’

I let out a shaky breath. I read through the letter one more time, then glanced at the calendar hanging on my kitchen wall. Wayne would be waiting to meet me tomorrow morning. I glanced down at the letter again, wondering what I was going to do.

But truthfully, it was an easy decision for me to make. He deserved to know why I had left Hawkins — why I had truly left. Wayne obviously thought that he already knew why I left, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but there was another reason I had to leave that Godforsaken town far behind.

I spotted Wayne sitting at one of the booths in the diner the moment I walked in. Thankfully, he was sitting so he wasn’t facing the door, and he hadn’t turned around when the bell above the door announced that I had walked in.

It took me a moment to finally walk over to the booth he was sitting in. Wayne looked up at me when I stopped at the edge of his table. His warm, brown eyes flicked up to me and a soft, somewhat sad smile formed on his lips. Then, his eyes fell to the little boy I was holding on my hip and I could see tears form in his eyes as his mouth parted in shock.

“Hi, Wayne,” I greeted nervously. I slid into the booth, sitting across from him as I adjusted my son so that he was now sitting on my lap.

“H-Hi,” he said quietly. Wayne’s eyes were still locked on my son, who was playing with the stuffed bear I brought to occupy him. He stuttered quietly, “Is . . . i-is h-he . . . ?”

“He’s Eddie’s son,” I confirmed. I reached out and put my hand on Wayne’s, which made him finally look up at me again. “He’s the reason I had to get out of Hawkins, Wayne. I-I couldn’t just wallow in my grief and waste away, not when I had him growing in my belly. And I don’t think that town would’ve taken too well to me having Eddie’s baby. Not with the things they still say about him.”

“I understand,” Wayne said quickly, covering my hand with his own. He looked down at our hands and slowly moved his hand off of mine. He gently brushed his fingertip over the diamond ring I was wearing on my fourth finger. “You’re still wearing it.”

“I never took it off,” I said.

Eddie had asked me to marry him, before all the shit with Chrissy and Vecna happened. He had been confident that he would finally graduate this year and he wanted us to start our lives together as soon as we finally walked across that stage. I had been so shocked when he got down on one knee, his brown eyes wide and his hand shaking slightly as he held his mother’s engagement ring up to me. He could barely get the words out without stumbling over them, but it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. I had of course said yes. Eddie had grinned up at me, quickly sliding the ring on my finger before pulling me into his arms to kiss me fiercely. The ring had been on my finger ever since that night.

“What’s his name?” Wayne asked, glancing down at my son again.

“Edward Joseph Munson. Hope you don’t mind me using the last name, by the way. I’ve been telling everyone who asks that I’m a widow. It’s easier than being an unmarried single mom.”

“Of course not. A few more months and you would’ve gotten the name officially, anyway,” he said. I nodded, mirroring his sad smile.

A waitress walked over to our booth and asked for our order. Wayne got a refill on his coffee, I ordered a hot tea, and got little Eddie a couple pancakes.

When the waitress walked away again, I looked back at Wayne and said, “I’m sorry I stayed away for so long and kept him from you–”

“Don’t apologize,” Wayne insisted, squeezing my hand. “I understand, Lizzy. You had to do what was best for you and the little man.”

I smiled, brushing my hand over my son’s long, curly, brown hair. I hadn’t cut it since he was born, other than a couple little trims. As his hair grew longer and longer, it reminded me so much of Eddie’s unruly curls and I didn’t have it in me to cut his hair.

Eddie looked up at me with his wide, brown eyes that were exactly the same as his father’s. My son grinned up at me and I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, Ed, I want you to meet someone. This,” I pointed to Wayne, “is your uncle Wayne. He was Daddy’s uncle.”

“Hi! I’m Eddie!” the young boy exclaimed excitedly at Wayne.

“Hey, there,” the older man said, smiling at my four-year-old. He laughed a little, pressing his hand to his mouth. “God, he really is the spittin’ image of Eddie, isn’t he?”

“Acts like him, too,” I laughed. I teasingly tickled my son’s sides, making him giggle loudly. “I’ve got a little troublemaker on my hands. . . . But I wouldn’t change it for the world. God knows I miss Eddie’s crazy antics more than I ever thought I would.”

“Me, too,” Wayne said. He grew slightly somber again as he continued, “No matter how much trouble that boy got in, no matter how much stress he caused me, I would give the world to have him back again.”

“I know. I would, too.” I sighed and said, “I wish he could have known that I was pregnant. . . . I know that he would’ve been so excited to be a dad, no matter how hard it would’ve been for us to figure out how to be parents.”

Wayne laughed. “Yeah, he woulda been thrilled. Woulda been a nervous wreck about it, too.”

I grinned. I had imagined how Eddie would’ve reacted to me telling him I was pregnant so many times over the past few years. I could see the grin that would immediately light up his face before the reality set it and he would begin freaking out about us becoming parents. I knew that he would have done his best to make sure our baby had the best life we could give them, but he would’ve damn near had a panic attack over every decision we would have had to make.

“Does he know about Eddie?” Wayne asked, nodding to my son.

“Of course. Well, he knows as much as he can know, being only four. Really, all he can do is recognize Eddie’s picture and say ‘That’s Daddy’, but I’ve never wanted to keep who his dad really was a secret from him. I’ll tell him the truth about Eddie when he’s older.”

Wayne hesitated before he asked, “Will you . . . will you come visit me sometime? I just . . . I don’t want to lose either of you again.”

“You won’t lose us,” I promised. “I never meant to stay away from you for so long. It was . . . it was just so hard to even think about returning to Hawkins, or even seeing you again. Seeing you reminds me of Eddie and, I know it’s been five years, but that man still holds my heart in his hands, even now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move on and, honestly, I’m not sure that I’ll ever want to. I’ve done pretty well all on my own, anyway.”

“You know that if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask,” Wayne said. “I don’t have much, but I would share it all with you both if you need it.”

“I promise I’ll call if I need anything,” I assured him. “And I promise that we’ll visit. I-I’m not sure I can go back to Hawkins, but–”

“I can come visit you,” Wayne offered. “Wherever you want, Lizzy.”

“Are you sure? I know it’s a pretty long drive–”

“Seeing you and the little man is more than worth the long drive,” he said, smiling softly at me.

I smiled back at him, just as the waitress brought over our drinks and the plate of pancakes. I took Eddie’s bear and set it on the seat beside me before sliding the plate directly in front of my son. I began to cut the pancakes into bite size pieces for him. Wayne grinned as he watched Eddie chew on the pancake pieces.

“Oh, I have something for you,” he said.

Wayne pulled something out of his pocket. He held it tight in his fist for a moment before he set it on the table and slid it over to me. My chest tightened when I saw that it was Eddie’s guitar pick necklace.

“I think you should have this,” Wayne said. “I know you have the ring, but maybe . . . maybe the little man can have this. Something from his dad.”

“Thank you,” I murmured softly, taking the necklace in my hand. I brushed my thumb over the guitar pick.

Eddie never took the damn thing off, even when he slept or showered. I thought it had been lost when he died. Wayne was right — my son should have something from his father, something that he could keep forever.

I carefully brushed my son’s long, unruly hair aside and put the necklace on him. Eddie took a break from eating his pancakes and looked down at the guitar pick. He looked up at me.

“Daddy?” he asked.

“Yeah, baby. This was Daddy’s necklace,” I said. “He wore it all the time. It was his favorite.”

“I keep it?”

“Uh-huh. Just be careful with it, okay?”

Eddie nodded eagerly. “I promise, Mommy!” I grinned and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Wayne and I spoke for a while longer about what we had been up to recently before we both decided to leave the diner. Eddie was getting tired and soon he would get cranky if I didn’t put him down for a nap. Wayne followed me out to my car, watching as I buckled Eddie into his car seat.

“Bye, little man,” Wayne said, waving to Eddie.

“Bye, Uncle Wayne,” my son mumbled, tiredly waving back. Wayne chuckled and I smiled before I shut the door quietly.

I looked at Wayne. I hesitated for a moment before I hugged him tightly.

“I’m glad I came today,” I said. “I missed you more than I realized. I promise we’ll visit and talk soon.”

“I’m glad we met up, too. You really are like a daughter to me, Lizzy. I’m glad you’re doing well, and I’m so happy I got to meet the little man.” We broke apart and Wayne said, “Have a good trip back home, and be safe. Y’all are the only family I got left now.”

“You won’t lose us, Wayne,” I told him. “I promise you. Me and Eddie will always be here for you. You can come visit us any time, alright?”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling slightly. “You should get goin’ before it gets dark out.”

“Yeah. . . . We’ll see you soon, Wayne.”

“See ya, Lizzy. Thanks for coming.”

I smiled. “Thanks for tracking me down. It was nice to reconnect.”

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie st4 #stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things spoilers #stranger things season 4 #stranger things volume 2

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ahsokasleftbicep · 3 years ago

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Name and Soul: Chapter 6

It's finally here! I am SO SO sorry for the delay. This weekend has been insane. But anyway, let's go.

@mqgriett @darkangel4121 @thelambandthewolffe @maulscrosshair @trash-dino-5000 @lightning-wolffe @killtherandomness @shadowwing1324 @sydnubabu @lafy-taffy @photowizard17

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 2042

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 6, Rampart being a *ahem* douchebag, super conflicted Crosshair, internal conflict, Tech being amazing, Wrecker kicking ass, there are a few curse words but nothing too bad, I think

“Y/N… Y/N!” Omega tugs on your hand.

You shake your head and look down at her. “Huh?... What?” The girl points at the makeshift target painted on the far wall.

“Good job, Omega! You’re getting there!” You ruffle her hair and she smiles. “How about you try again?”

Omega nods and readies herself with the Zygerrian bow. You look out the door and tune everything out. After you saw, well thought you saw him, you stood in the middle of the streets until someone bumped your shoulder. It couldn’t have been him. That’s impossible, he would be on Kamino. And he didn’t have any weapons besides his knife, he never brings only one weapon. And his eyes… It had to be him.

You refocus when Omega lets out a frustrated groan.

“But I’ve already hit the target three times.”

Echo rests his hand on her shoulder. “Out of 12. That’s luck, Omega, not skill.”

“He’s right.” You hop off the gambling table and nod at the target. “Soldiers need to be consistent and that comes with time.”

Omega tries again but misses, glaring at the Weequay and Ithorian. “I was doing better until those two showed up.”

Echo glances at you before looking back to Omega. “You have to learn to tune out distractions, which comes with practice.”

“Try again, Omega. You can do it.” You smiled at the girl and winced when she missed again.

“Not exactly a natural, is she.” Cid walks up and nudges Wrecker off of his seat. “Playtime’s over, I got a job for you.”

You all gather around the table, making yourselves comfortable. Omega reaches up to you and you pick her up so she can see.

“I assume you guys know what a tactical droid is?... They were the opera…”

“The operational brains of the Separatist military-” Tech butts in.

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.” This is my briefing, Goggles.”

Tech steps back offended while you and Echo try to muffle your laughter. Tech elbows you with a small smile before refocusing on Cid’s briefing. This is going to be a fun mission.

He was tired. God, he was so tired. Crosshair lied on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Despite his exhaustion, he had been trying to go to sleep for hours.

Why did I run? Why did I leave her there? Why did you go in the first place, you should’ve killed her. I love her. She betrayed the Empire, tried to kill you. I tried to kill her first.

Crosshair sat up from his bed and removed his necklace. He turned the ring over in his hand, looking at the engraving. O'r gai bal runi…

Y/N… I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.

“CT-9904, report to my office immediately.”

….“Yes, sir.”

“We’re approaching the decommissioning site. We can land at the dockyard and go in on foot.” Tech turns his head to look back before landing the ship.

You put on your helmet and look down at Omega. “You ready kid?”

“Definitely!” The girl runs ahead before Hunter holds her shoulder. You all crouch behind a wall. You raise your brow at Tech and poke his shoulder.

“What’s with the police droids? Cid never mentioned those.”

The man rolls his eyes and looks at his vambrace. “They operate on a rotating quadrant scan. If we time it correctly, they have a blind spot.”

“That’s our way in then.”

“Precisely.”

When the time is right, you make your way to the site, going up a ladder.

“It’s okay, Wrecker. Don’t look down, just like Skako Minor.” You glance down at the man and he nods.

“You say that like it’s easy, Y/N.”

You all enter the facility and huddle together.

“Wrecker, cover us up top.”

“But being the lookout was Crosshair’s job.”

“That’s why Y/N is going with you.” Hunter nods at you.

“Sounds good to me… C’mon big guy, let's get up there.”

This really could be going better. You dodge a few shots from the police droids, firing something back.

“Wrecker, Y/N. Get to the main control panel.” Echo’s voice comes through the comms

You and the man run up but stop when you reach the panel… on the other side of a river of molten droid parts. Lovely. Crosshair would’ve loved this.

“Echo, we can’t reach the platform. Unless you want us to fall into a molten river.”

“It’s the only way to reboot the whole facility. Figure it out!”

Wrecker looks at you, “That’s easy for you to say.” The man paces erratically and grips his head.

“Wrecker, we need to hurry. You can do this.” You stop the man and hold his shoulders. “I’ll cover you.”

The man groans and mumbles to himself.

“Wrecker, what are you waiting for?”

“Wrecker, you need to hurry!” A blaster shot flies over your head, and more police droids surround you both.

Wrecker jumps to a claw and swings to the platform, hitting his head in the process.

“Wrecker! Get the system online, we’re running out of time!” Police droids gather together, converging on your position. The man flips the switch before collapsing.

“Wrecker!” You fire off a few rounds and use the claw to get to the platform. “C’mon Wrecker! We gotta get out of here!”

You grab Wreckers blaster and fire at the closer droids. “Dammit, Wrecker!”

“H-Hunter, Y/N… I’m stuck on the conveyor. I need help.”

“I’m surrounded by police droids and Wrecker is incapacitated at the moment. Hunter?”

“I’ll get Omega. Just get down here as soon as you can.”

You fire off more rounds, then kneel down. “Wrecker… Wrecker! You couldn’t have hit your head that hard. C’mon.” You push his shoulder.

More droids converge and you move around the platform. Wrecker mumbles but you can’t make out anything. Good soldiers follow orders.

Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers...good soldiers.

“CT-9904? A moment?” Rampart approached the grey-haired man, who placed a toothpick between his lips.

“Sir.”

“I believe we have gotten off on the wrong… foot.” Rampart stands, looking out the window. “You see, Private L/N and her skills will be very useful for my current project. I understand that your relationship with the soldier-”

Crosshair shoves the man against the window, holding the sharpened point of his toothpick at Rampart’s neck. “I am holding this right over your carotid artery. If I slip just enough, you will bleed out in minutes, possibly less. Now I don’t know who you think I was to that woman, but if you keep pushing it...” Crosshair presses his toothpick harder. “...then I suggest you watch your back.” Crosshair lets go of his collar and Rampart falls to the floor, gripping his neck. “Oh and Admiral. If you tell anyone about this, I’ll still have enough time to find you.” The sniper narrows his eyes and disappears down the hallway.

“Y/N, Wrecker, get down here now!”

“I’m working on it, Echo! Wrecker’s still-”

“We’re on our way.” The man grabs his weapon from you and nudges your shoulder.

“Oh, so glad you could join us! How was your beauty sleep?” You punch his shoulder. “We need to get to the others.”

The man walks up to a chain and crouches down. “You remember that mission on Tatooine?”

“How could I ever forget?” You smile and get up on Wrecker’s shoulders. “Let’s do some damage.”

Wrecker jumps down the chain, the two of you firing off. “Sorry, we took so long!”

“We got tired of you guys having all the fun!” Wrecker lands with you still on his shoulders. You hop off and start covering the rest of the group.

“Y/N!” Omega runs up next to you, a few smudges on her face.

“Omega! You got a little something on your cheek, nothing a rag and water can’t take care of.” You pat her on the head for a moment before returning more fire.

A moment later, old battle droids begin to stand up and fire on the police droids.

“Well, that’s new… I take it, that’s our cue to get the hell out of here.”

Tech runs next to you, “Yes, it is indeed.”

“Good shot, Omega!”

“Thank you! You and Echo were right about those distractions.”

“We’ve dealt with this our whole lives, you learn to forget about them over time.” You kneel behind her and provide cover. “Let’s get going… I’m starving.”

“You and me both!” Wrecker runs past you, knocking the remaining droids to the ground.

“Trace, right?”

“Yes! And you’re Y/N.” The girl smiles at you.

You place your hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for going back to Omega.”

“She’s a good kid… And a good shot.” Trace chuckles.

“Well, she’s getting there…”

“Y/N! Let’s go! I thought you were starving!” Omega sticks her head out of the ship, waving her arms.

“Okay, jeez. I’m coming!” You wave to the sisters and run to the ship, sitting in the cockpit. Omega comes up and tugs on your arm. “Y/N… Uhm, can you help me train for a bit?”

“Yeah sure, but no target practice. Let’s do strength instead! Then you need to rest, you’ve had a big day.”

“Okay! Now c’mon let’s go!” The girl grabs your hand and drags you to the back.

Crosshair stood in the shower, staring at his necklace. He hadn’t moved in minutes, just letting the water run down his body. He was thinking… about everything. Sleep is unknown to him, his brain won’t shut up. He won’t shut up.

You should’ve gone back for her. You should’ve killed her. I love her. No, you don’t. What do you know...You’re not me. I love Y/N, and I always will, I promised her. Ha, with what? That stupid necklace, that ring? You tried to kill her and you think she still loves you? You betrayed everything you promised. You don’t know Y/N like I do. She knows, they all do. She saw me that day, she knows that I’m still here. And she knows you’re here too. She’s not stupid. Oh, I’m sure. Just shut up and let me sleep, please. Hm, I’ll think about it. No, I don’t think I will.

“Y/N? Why are you up?” Tech walks into the cockpit, devoid of his eyewear.

“I- couldn’t sleep. Haven’t been since…”

“Since the day we left Kamino… Am I correct?”

“Yes… It’s so odd. It’s like I can feel him.”

“Crosshair?”

“Yes, it’s like I can feel his presence. Like when someone stands behind you, but you can feel them there before they speak. And I keep thinking I hear him, and I see things. Like nightmares...horrible nightmares.” Tears gather in your eyes and they fall down your cheeks. “I- I must be losing my mind, right?”

Tech places his hand on your shoulder and kneels in front of you. “Y/N, you are most definitely not going crazy. But what you’re experiencing does sound very strange. I know how much this… has affected you and I don’t- I don’t have all the answers. I do wish I did, but circumstances have prevented me from fully dedicating-”

“Tech, you’re rambling again.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “I know you are doing everything you can, and you have a great assistant.”

The man chuckles, “Apologies. Yes, Omega is a very nice assistant. She is quite intelligent.” Tech stands up and yawns, “I believe some sleep is necessary, for both of us.”

“I’ll go in a moment, I promise.”

“Very well, I would hate to drag you back.” Tech nods before heading back to his room.

You turn your head, looking out into hyperspace. Crosshair… I don’t know if you can hear me. I was looking at the stars… I miss you. Maybe you’re looking at the stars too if you can even see them, but I hope you are. They look so pretty tonight.

Crosshair turned his head to the window, looking through the clouds of Kamino. He finds a small opening in the clouds, revealing a dark, clear sky above. I found the stars… You’re right. They do look pretty….

I love you, Y/N.

… I love you, Crosshair.

#name and soul #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #omega tbb #tbb spoiliers #star wars #cid tbb #i am SO sorry that this is late #no joke #my weekend was so crazy #but i digress #if you want to be tagged in this story dm me

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years ago

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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 7/8

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

"You always hide here when you're down," Geto said, stepping onto the rickety floors of the abandoned wooden gazebo at the far edge of the walled gardens. It was meant to be torn down but for your insistence for it to stay erect.

He took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag when you didn't answer, huddled on one of the corners of the hexagonal structure. "You really shouldn't have done that," he told you, his voice ringing crisp in the still air.

"You should really quit that dirty habit," you muttered in a form of retaliation, not really in the mood to be lectured.

"I could say the same with your games, Y/N!" he said harshly, the first time he ever would. It was more for the fact that he felt frustrated that you kissed him all for the benefit of another man as opposed to merely scolding you for whatever wrongdoing you've committed. He felt all the more frustrated that he was doing it at all.

"I'm sorry if I dragged you into this," you told him sincerely. "I shouldn't have –"

"I am not sorry," he interrupted you. "I wanted that for a while now."

"What?" You stood up and walked towards him, making him turn to face you. "What are you talking about?"

Geto placed a hand behind his neck, exhaling exaggeratedly and throwing his head back, closing his eyes momentarily before meeting your blue gaze. "I understand why Kento is taking this harder than what you're expecting." He sighed. "It probably would have been better if you kissed Yuuji instead."

You just blinked at him, perplexed. "I don't get it."

It's now or never. He wanted you to know at least before you made up your mind, but knowing you, he knew you already did. And he wasn't going to be your choice. "Look, I like you. I wanted you for myself ever since you entered university."

"Huh?"

"And three years ago, I told Kento about how I felt," he droned on. "And maybe he thinks that's still the case, that I am still his rival where you are concerned."

"So are you?" you demanded.

He shook his head, smiling as he blew smoke at the opposite direction. "I know a losing game when I see one, and honestly, I'm rooting for the two of you."

You clutched at his arm. "Suguru..."

He ruffled your hair, throwing his cigarette away and hugging you to his side. "Don't get me wrong, princess. I was hurt that I wasn't your favorite anymore. I wanted to tell you, but you beat me to it and told me you liked Kento instead."

"You'll always be my favorite," you said. "You guys don't get replaced, not to me. I love you all differently, and I have things I share with each of you that I can never have with the other."

Geto's eyes widened slightly at your words. "I'll hold you to that." He snickered then. "Seriously though, where the hell did the two of you get things so wrong? Everything just went to shit in a matter of hours. And I thought Ieiri and I were being very specific with our instructions to you."

"Ieiri?"

"She's been talking to Kento, too. You two are just too dense and slow."

You punched him on the arm, glaring at him.

"Ow!" he grumbled, rubbing at the sore spot. "I'm a model, you know. You're not supposed to mark me."

"Oh, is that what you tell all your girls?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes at you. "Kento already made it back to the house. You should apologize."

You stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tight.

"You might want to refrain from doing just that, princess," he said but you just giggled and made your way back to the manor. "You're still my favorite!" you called out.

He took another stick if cigarette, chuckling at you, but as he was about to light it, he opted not to.

You've done it this time. You just knew it. You realized that when you sobered up from all the crying you did after the incident at the lake. It was too late to say you should have listened to Yuuji and regret wasn't really something you could relate to. Typically. Now, you wanted him to say, "I told you so." Him and Megumi. Throw in Nobara, too, but you knew you weren't going to forgive yourself if things didn't turn back the way they used to be where you and Nanami were involved. That was all you were hoping for if he really has been put off by the mere idea of you.

Geto was just as much of a trickster as you are, but what you did not foresee was the result and his reaction to you, and you weren’t exactly ready for the his confession. That was a first and after speaking with him, you understood. Nanami was downright outraged. He might have not gone all out on you about the matter but you knew there was something else he wasn't saying. He has always been considerate of your feelings, and you were afraid you've trampled on his. It was regardless of whether you meant it or not. You just crossed the line.

The situation wasn't good, and you knew Gojo would have killed you if he saw just how you were behaving at the lake, and you could just pray to every higher being out there that he never gets to find out or you’ll have no choice but to sit down and listen to his lecture. He may be averse to the idea of you dating any of his friends, and he may be the best brother anyone could have, but he would definitely not tolerate what you have done.

A bigger part of everything that’s been happening was your fault. You knew it, and you weren't afraid to admit it either. Although Nanami may have his faults for being so much of an over-thinker and being indecisive, he was right. Why couldn't you be a normal person for once and just be honest about how you feel? Why couldn't you just tell Nanami you loved him and you have been in love with him for the longest time? Again, you couldn't relate to the idea because you haven’t ever been able to healthily express your opinion, but enough was enough. You were going to do it tonight. It didn't matter what the result was. You wanted him in your life, and you’ll go through lengths to have him.

After tossing and turning on your bed for what seemed like hours and later wearing a path on your bedroom floor while fidgeting on the hem of your silk robe, you finally decided there was no way you were sleeping. You couldn’t if it saves you when the dread of him totally disappearing because of what you do gnawed at you from the inside.

You were worried sick of Nanami who disappeared after the incident. You called him on the phone several times but every attempt went straight to voicemail, and out of your frustrations, you found yourself retreating to that same spot where Geto found you. You were only able to rest easy when he spoke to you, telling you that Nanami already made it back to the manor.

Functioning on instinct, you got out of your room barefoot, the flaps of your robe flying behind you as you marched towards the guest room where he was staying. You even had your fist raised to knock on the door but at that very moment, you stopped. For the first time, you felt vulnerable. You didn't have a clue about what you would say to him the moment you see him. You didn't know how you would approach him or if it was already the right time to do so. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Digging your nails into your palms, you listened for movement on the other side of the door when you heard the door to the adjoining bath open and close, followed by the quiet padding of bare feet on the carpeted floor. Your breath snagged, thinking of turning away. You decided to do just that but then, the door suddenly opened, making you squeak in surprise, the sight of him dressed in just his navy pajama bottoms causing you to ogle his muscular chest and abdomen.

Well shit, you thought. He was beyond hot.

"Er..."

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked, sounding mostly tired than mad. He didn't look happy to see you, but at least he didn't slam the door to your face. Too much of a violation to his manners, you surmised, tempted to tease him, but you opted not to. You weren't in any position to be playing your little games.

You exhaled in batches before you finally found your voice. "I... n-need to talk to you. Can I...come in?"

He just looked at you for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for you. He then turned his bare back to you as he walked over to the bed, the muscles on his sides and back flexing with each movement. He then motioned for you to sit on the chair situated quite far from him before he himself sat down, waiting for you to talk.

You didn't sit down and instead stood behind the chair, gripping its back. "Look, I'm sorry."

He ran his fingers through his damp, blond locks, looking like a model for an expensive underwear brand as he did so. "Hmm. Are you now?"

Your throat grew dry, wishing you could smack yourself right there and then for thinking of other things when you were supposed to be apologizing sincerely to him. You knew that he was trying to be sardonic but you couldn't help but think how mesmerizing he sounded. Composing yourself, you nodded. "I am. Suguru and I –"

"I don't wish to hear it, Y/N."

"It didn't mean anything!" you finally snapped, breathing heavily and not realizing you've crossed halfway towards him. You stopped, catching yourself just in time. "I just..." You sighed. "I just wanted to make you jealous."

“Well, what the hell, Y/N! You’ve succeeded.” His jaw clenched as he said the words, eyes intent on you and unrelenting. “And guess what, you’ve done more than just make me feel jealous. You made me feel guilty, too, because I can’t help but think that I pushed you to do that because of what I said to you this morning. Are you happy?”

“No…” You shook your head, your breath snagging. “I was being selfish. None of it is your fault so you don’t have to feel that way. You’ve been trying to talk to me all day, and maybe I should have given you the chance, but being me, I relied on my baser instincts and made a game out of things again.”

He stood this time, towering over you. "That's all you know. Games," he told you quietly, his tone at odds to his words. "You never really cared who gets played in the end as long as you're amused." He reached over and picked up a few strands of your hair before flicking them off his fingers in disdain. "Isn't that what it is?"

His words hurt. "No..."

"Unfortunately, I got caught up in it, all the while thinking that maybe you'll spare me because..." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I lost again. Congratulations."

"I'm sorry."

"Sure." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm tired, Y/N," he said as he sat down on the bed, burying his face into his hands.

This was it, you thought to yourself. You can't miss your chance. It was regardless of the consequences. You told yourself that. You were not going to back down even if it means you get hurt. Even if it means he would reject you.

Without thinking twice, you moved closer to him, settling on your knees directly in front of him just by his feet. You reached for his hands, gently easing them away from his face. You smiled at how big they were compared to yours, his palms rough against your fingertips. He let you pull them away, slowly moving of their own accord to cup your face, his dark, intense eyes searching yours.

"Y/N, I can't do this anymore."

You chuckled even as tears glistened in your eyes. You brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You read minds now?"

"I'm serious."

"Forgive me. I couldn't help it."

"What are you –"

Before he can finish what he wanted to say, you pushed yourself up on your foot and pressed your lips against his. You felt him stiffen against you, his hand tightening over the slope of your hips as you pushed him forward. You placed your left foot on the bed just beside his thigh while your hands took possession of his face, smiling into the kiss when he finally moved and reciprocated in kind. Your toes curled in anticipation.

He pulled you down, mouths enmeshed, breaths in sync, until you were leveled to him. He raised a hand, placing it on the side of your face, making you lean against its warmth. Your eyes flew open when he pulled away and pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering there before he kissed the tip of your nose, then your cheek just beside your mouth. Nanami closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand soothingly rubbing at your bare thigh.

He was breathing deeply, brows furrowed together. Unable to help it, you started planting butterfly kisses where you could reach, capturing his lips again, hand gently caressing his jawline. Nanami twisted around, laying you on the mattress and hovering over you, continuing to kiss you. His scent had stuck to the sheets engulfing your senses and rendering everything nonexistent but him. You were lost in a world filled with nothing but him and the feel of his hands roaming all over your body in slow, sensuous movements as if he was blindly mapping out your every contour and curve.

"I don't think we should be doing this," he breathed out, chuckling quietly, but in the next moment, he sought entrance to your mouth, his hot tongue finding yours, stealing your breath. You held on tight to him, thinking he was overthinking things again, easing his mind by returning his ministrations in kind, and locking him in place with your arms wrapped around his nape. You moved your leg from underneath him, brushing your thigh between his legs, making his breath hitch when you applied the slightest of pressure, feeling him becoming stiff as you rocked your thigh back and forth against him.

Nanami drew back slightly, cutting the kiss. He opened his eyes, looking at you longingly, fingers tracing your shoulder. He looked at you with uncertainty as he fiddled with the lapels of your robe. "Tell me to stop."

At that, you smirked at him, your fingers also wandering up the expanse of his hard abdomen, slowly trailing fire up his chest to his collarbones. You bit your lip between your teeth as his skin seemed to grow warmer where you were touching him, the way he was unsteadily breathing adding to your thrill, beyond glad you had that effect on him.

"I don't want you to stop, Kento." You rose a fraction on your elbow and pecked him on the tip of his nose. "I want you."

He sighed then. “Y/N, if we’re going to do this, I want you to be certain.”

“Like a hundred percent certain?” you teased. “What’s the legal jargon for that? Do you want me to say, ‘Sustained,’ or ‘No objections, your honor’?” You giggled and he joined in, shaking his head. “Way to kill the mood though.”

“Sorry.” He flashed you a rueful smile.

Reaching out, you cupped the side of his face, eyeing him with as much conviction and certainty as you could. “You should know by now that I don’t do things I don’t exactly want to do. And when I say I want this – I want you – then that’s precisely what I want.”

He nodded slowly.

“You’re still overthinking.”

“I’m just thinking of what to say to Satoru –”

“You chose the wrong time to be talking too much.” You pulled him close, crashing your lips to his in reckless abandon. It was sloppy at best, but you hoped it would convey your certitude and confidence in what you were about to engage in with him. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Kento, I could cry just having you this close to me.”

Your words seemed to have unlocked something in him as his pupils dilated and his clear eyes clouded with want, and you couldn’t have been more glad that you decided to tell him how you honestly felt. Nanami lowered his head, claiming your lips with his in a slow, gentle kiss, his lips making love to yours in a seductive rhythm that spoke volumes of what he can’t typically express with mere words. The urgency in his kisses increased and you matched his fervor with yours, slightly rising off the bed to meet him halfway, taking as much as you could as he took from you – your breath, your heart, your soul.

As if a switch flipped, his gentle movements turned careless as he grabbed your shoulder and slid the robe off you, throwing it somewhere behind him, eyes alight with excitement as he further undressed you, pulling your matching nightie down, smirking when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra underneath.

“You planned this,” he rasped.

You grinned smugly at him. “Maybe I did.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, attacking your neck with open-mouthed kisses while his large hands took possession of your breasts, kneading them. You gasped when he caught one of your nipples, twisting it experimentally and watching your reaction when he latched his mouth onto the other, licking around it before giving it a particularly hard suck.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, eyes blowing wide when you heard the sound of your silks being ripped off of your body followed by a soft growl as he continued to devour your tender swells of flesh. His hands reached down, covetously taking your thighs, humming against your breast at the warmth and softness of your skin underneath the rough pads of his palms. He drew one hand upwards to the flimsy lingerie you were wearing, ripping it away wildly as well, making you gasp.

“Hey, don’t –”

Any protests you had died in your throat when he reached down the apex of your legs, his fingers immediately teasing your folds and rubbing gently. “Do you feel how wet you are, my love?” he rasped. “You want me this much?” When you didn’t answer, he prompted you by putting more pressure on the sensitive nub, making you buck off of the sheets with a squeaked out, “Yes.”

Your nether lips were slick with arousal and your clit started to become engorged as he touched you there, making you whine in pleasure as you carelessly threw your arms back on the mattress. He spread your legs wider, giving himself full access to your body while you lay there with hooded eyes, watching him have his way around you, his pupils dilated as he drank in every contour of your body.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, groaning in approval when you slightly arched your neck backwards, reveling in his touch. He started rubbing your clit in circles with just enough pressure to have you gripping on the sheets while his free hand took hold of your exposed breasts, kneading the supple flesh between his fingers. Nanami delighted in the way you looked writhing under his mercy, eyes hazy and mouth partly opened as you let out pleasured sounds, wishing to know how he can make you moan and tremble even more.

Nanami withdrew his hand from your chest and traced down the expanse of your belly until he reached your pelvis, securing you in place as he inserted his long digits into your throbbing cunt, going in and out. He chuckled softly at the sight of you taking his fingers in, the lewd sounds coming from your pooling juices as you clenched around him, spurring him on. He pressed down on your clit around and around, over and over again, circling around that sensitive part of you.

“Just like that,” you mewled, your hips lifting off the mattress to grind against his hand, meeting the friction he was creating and amplifying your desire.

He smirked as he hovered over you. “You just love this, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, feeling your first orgasm hitting you when he started erratically thrusting his fingers into you, the movement of his wrists quick while every thrust was accompanied by your snagged breaths.

Feeling himself getting harder and more titillated with the way your body tossed and turned beneath him, with his free hand, he shoved down his silk pajama bottoms, tossing it away along with his underwear, releasing his cock from its confines. He was, however, taken aback when you suddenly pushed yourself up, smirking at him as your eyes shifted between his dark orbs and his erection, thick, long and pulsating.

Without a warning, you pushed against him, your hands tight on his broad shoulders until his back was against the mattress. Having successfully turned tables on him, you straddled his lap and claimed his lips for your own, kissing him hard and unrelenting while your hands ran down his pecs, down to his hard abs, one of them racing faster than the other as you reached for his length, wrapping your fingers around it, its heat sending you on a wild rush.

“You’re so hot,” you droned absently, making him smile.

“You’re hotter when you’re trying to dominate me like this,” he responded, chuckling.

“Don’t I always though?” you teased, your grip on him tightening slightly while you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading his precum all over the pinkish head, making him quaver in delight. Whatever response he had in mind died right there and then when you lifted yourself up aligning yourself with him. You grabbed the base of his length, guiding him leisurely inside you, the slow pace driving you both on the edge. Your legs shook slightly as you slid down onto him, using his firm thighs to anchor yourself until you were fully sitting on him, his cock buried deep inside you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, out of breath, feeling himself nestled in your warmth, fitting tight and snug as if you were made just for him. He sat up slightly, holding onto your hips as he slid out slowly, almost to the hilt, holding you up before very gently easing his way back inside, continuing with that slow pace, building a rhythm you both got used to. You held onto his shoulders, meeting every languid thrust halfway, establishing connection with every movement of your bodies.

“Ah…Kento…” you keen, as you both moved against each other, feeling every part of each other against yourselves, melding in a soft embrace as you rode him up and down. You both couldn’t get enough of each other, your nails digging on his back while his hands held your waist in a bruising grip. Your hips met each other in a steady rhythm, the sounds of your moans filling the room, mingling with skin slapping on skin and distinct squelching as you repeatedly swallowed his cock into your hole, making you crumple in rapture.

He reached up, placing a hand at your nape, making you lean closer to press his mouth onto yours, your tongues meeting in a duel, your whimpers drowned out by the action. He released your lips in favor of your neck, progressing downwards as he nipped on your flesh, all the way to your collarbones until he reached your breast, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making your toes curl as his ministrations brought about sensations that hyper-stimulated every one of your senses.

You luxuriated in everything that was him, the feel of his mouth on you, his length filling you up to the brim over and over again, in and out with every push, his smell, his warmth, the excitement leaping in his eyes while he focused on pleasuring you. You were caught in the midst of your love and fondness for everything that made up Nanami Kento, voicing it out by repeatedly saying, “I love you,” or broken parts of it anyway as if a prayer of fragmented pleas and exultation as he made you his.

He paused when he heard you say it, pulling away, his eyes wide as he gazed at you with his cloudy eyes suddenly becoming clearer while his vision focused on you. “Say that again,” he said.

“I love you,” you murmured, feeling your face grow warm at his unabashed scrutiny. Then again, “I love you,” with more conviction this time. “I’m madly in love with you, Kento.”

“You are?” he asked as if in disbelief, his mouth stretching into smile, eyes filling with joy when you nodded. And along with that, he felt himself growing even harder as if a silent affirmation to how he felt about you. “I love you, too.” He kissed you and laid you down on the bed. “So damn much.”

Nanami settled himself between your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he realigned himself with you, pushing in without preamble and pounding into you in a faster rhythm than earlier. He slid so easily inside of you as he pushed forward and pulled out again and again, the new position making your walls grip tighter around him while he fucked you deeper. He relished the way he was spreading you apart, mesmerized by the way you were connected.

“More,” you purred when you felt him hitting you right where you wanted him over and over again, making you see galaxies of stars as he rammed into you. “Right there.”

“Whatever you want, my love,” he panted, dipping himself even deeper. “You like that? You like how daddy fucks you?”

Your eyes shot open when he said that, knowing you were seeing a new facet of him you’ve never encountered before. But you were not able to dwell on that when you were prompted to respond with a rough, hard thrust, saying, “Yes, daddy. I do…so m-much,” when he pulled out all the way and shoved his dick back in, and in that same instant, you found yourself creaming around him. Your essence dripped down onto the sheets as he continued to thrust faster into you, his breath hitting your skin with the rhythm of his movements as he moaned your name, planting butterfly kisses on your neck.

“You’re so good,” he said as you clenched tighter around him. “Give me one more, baby.”

He hastened his pace even more, rising up with one of your legs hanging on his arm while his free hand reached down, playing with your clit, applying pressure and setting the tempo of his movements with his length which slid in and out of you unabatingly. Your moans were getting louder while your brain felt like it would turn to fizz as your heart pounded in your chest, holding onto the build of that familiar pooling of heat in your loins. In a sudden flurry of sensations, your body lifted clear off the bed as you came long and hard.

Nanami rode you through it, going even harder and rougher as groans started to spill out of his mouth, ending in a crescendo of your sensual cries and a dragged out moan from him as he came inside you, his white, hot seed coating your walls and overflowing out of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you came down from your high. Everything felt detached and surreal as your mind started filling with thought after thought, dominated with nothing but the fact that he just made love to you, the idea not quite sinking in despite the panting, boneless mess that you are at that moment.

You gasped when you felt him pulling out of you before hovering over you to place a kiss on your forehead. You forced your eyes open to look at him, cracking into a crooked grin when you finally looked at him, his hands brushing away stray strands of hair from your sweat-matted forehead.

“I love you, Y/N,” he told you in hushed tones, while you were unable to do anything but nod weakly as your body succumbed to exhaustion.

He bet everything on Gojo’s wedding week. And it was all worth it.

The whole matter has not sunk in just yet, so much so that he didn’t get a wink’s sleep trying to make sense of it all, but mostly afraid that he will wake up in the morning and find that everything was just a dream. A very vivid, beyond pleasant dream. But the sun rose in the horizon, and as he lay there awake, he had his proof of everything that happened beside him, asleep and very much real, pressed against his side.

When you came to him the previous night, he was certain things between you would end. If he was being honest, he has had it with your playing. He didn’t know exactly what your aims were the previous night until you made the move. Again, if he was being honest, he was also being a coward, always the one at the end of the rope you were reaching for. He wanted to switch your positions for a change, but when he did, it felt like he was getting nowhere, just pulling the rope without anyone at the end.

He thought he had lost when you kissed Geto in front of him, didn’t know what to do with the information when you said you were doing it to make him jealous. And no matter how low you went just to get his attention or to retaliate to his lack of response to you the previous day, he couldn’t say he didn’t like that you did it, too. He didn’t like it per se, but your motivations behind it spoke volumes of how you felt. He was just too blind to see it.

You were right about certain things, one of them being the fact that he was supposed to know you and understand how you communicated. Another was the fact that it wasn’t too much for you to ask him to be selfish for his sake and yours. He had wanted to act exactly that way for a long time, and when you were giving him the chance, he walked away from it instead. And as per usual, you were the one who fought your way against him for the same aim of having him.

He sighed, shifting to his side to face your slumbering form. He felt his heart melting at the sight of you softly breathing and appearing so serene snuggled against him and wearing his shirt. He could almost laugh when you suddenly fell asleep on him right after he made love to you. He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t wake up any time soon after you closed your eyes, decided to clean you up and dress you up before settling beside you, too.

But out of everything, since the previous night, whenever he would remember you telling him you loved him, his heart just stops for a second only to resume its beating in irregular staccatos. You told him you could almost cry having him that close to you, but he was the one who felt like shedding tears about having you.

He bet his heart knowing there was a possibility that you would just toy with it and break it. In the end, he finally got everything he wanted in your person. He should have already known that in order to get to you, he has to go through everything, have his heart shattered if that’s what it would take. He wanted to peel all your protective layers, but you ended up doing that to him instead, and it was safe to say you succeeded. Still, although he felt like dying when he saw you kissing Geto, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d go through it all again if it meant he would get you in the end.

Nanami caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling when you scrunched your nose a bit, your brows furrowing slightly. Just then, your eyes opened, your ocean-blue irises devouring him in an instant in waves of emotions, the most dominant of them all being gratitude towards whatever higher power brought you to the world to exist and love him when you could have anybody else.

You broke into a sleepy grin the moment you saw him. “Good morning, daddy,” were the first words that came out of your mouth, teasing him the moment you woke up.

He felt heat suffuse his cheeks when you said that, flashing you a pained look. It hadn’t been embarrassing when he suddenly decided he had a daddy kink and wanted to hear you say it, but now that he has sobered up from the feel of you against him, he didn’t exactly want you to say it, not when you were mercilessly ragging him for it first thing in the morning. He didn’t detest it though.

Nanami diverted his gaze from you, his face turning red, but you abruptly rose slightly, grabbing both sides of his face to make him look at you.

“What are you getting all shy around me for?” you cooed. “Don’t you like it when I call you that?” You smirked. “Come to think of it, I was startled when you said that, too.”

“Are you making fun of me?” he said, pouting.

Your eyes rounded and you let go of him, even going to the extent of moving away from him.

“What?” he asked, suddenly panicked as he sat up, grabbing your arm, afraid you’ll walk away.

You clucked your tongue. “D-don’t do that…that p-pouting thing…” you spoke haltingly, unable to talk properly as you pinched the bridge of your nose, looking flustered.

“Do what?” he asked, not quite catching what you were saying.

“Don’t go acting cute so early in the morning. I’m not used to this side of you. Jesus, Kento,” you told him all in one go, your hands flailing about. “You’re messing with me.”

He arched a brow at you and started laughing heartily. You were genuinely distressed and he didn’t know what he would do with you. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know you were not immune to my charms.” He pulled you towards him, making you face him. “How are you feeling by the way?”

“I’m fine.”

“Not sore anywhere?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Fishing for compliments now?”

He shook his head slowly, not understanding what you were talking about. “I don’t think we’re on the same page.” He started fussing around you then, even lifting his shirt which you were wearing, slightly looking for telltale signs of the possibility that he could have hurt you in any way when he spotted bruises on your hips. “Oh no.”

“Why?” you asked, blinking cluelessly when you saw what he was looking at. To your surprise, he suddenly took you in his arms, his expressions indicating distress. “What’s going on?”

“I hurt you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

It was your turn to laugh. “You obliterated me, Kento, but I’m not sorry about it.” You pulled away from him and pecked him on the lips. “You were awesome.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I should go easy on you. I don’t really like the idea of injuring you in any way.”

You narrowed your eyes on him. “You’ve set the bar on how good you can be between the sheets. If you hold back on me, I’ll throttle you. Maybe I’ll ask Satoru for help, too.”

“What –”

“You’ve been warned, Nanamin.” You leaned forward, planting your face on his chest. “Stop worrying. I don’t regret anything, and if you make love to me as well as you did last night every single day, I’ll gladly have my battle scars.”

Nanami cupped your head, rubbing soothingly, his eyes meeting yours while a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

“You love me.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I do. With all that I am.”

“Stop getting into a tizzy then.”

“Okay, Y/N.”

“Okay, Kento.”

“Are you always going to call me by my name now?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “I like it better than when you call me Nanamin.”

Your brows knit together then. “I’ve kinda gotten fond of that nickname though. But if that’s what you want, I’m down for it, too.” You grinned at him. “Kento.”

Nanami broke into a smile, but then you said, “Can I always call you 'daddy' instead?” He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “I’ll throttle you.”

You chuckled. “My mother would flip!”

“Satoru would flip.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, just enjoying the comfortable silence while you listened to his heartbeat and basked in his warmth, his muscular arms wrapped around you securely. You’ve never felt safer.

You were, however, the first to break it.

“Kento?” you began.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are we now?”

“You’re all mine and I’m yours,” he stated firmly.

“So we’re official?”

He scoffed. “If last night wasn’t enough to make us official, I’d be happy to prove it further to you. You’re the woman I’ll marry. I’m not giving you a choice on that.”

You snickered. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he repeated with inflection, pushing you down on the mattress while he hovered over you. “Why do you sound as if you don’t like it?”

You burst into bubbles of laughter. “I’m not complaining…”

“But?”

“If that’s the case, I want Satoru to know first before the others. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “That’s just fair, I think.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you. When do you want us to tell him?”

You held his hand, entwining your fingers together and beaming tenderly at the way yours were engulfed by his. “Soon. Very soon.”

-end of part 7-

Aaaaand we're down to the second to the last chapter. This one's rather self-indulgent and I got carried away with the the "daddy" thing lol. Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who's been reading this fic and looking forward to my updates. You guys make me happy!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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squidgamesmut · 3 years ago

Text

The Guardian Angel | Chapter 10 - Standing on the horizon

Seong Gi-hun X Female Reader

Chapter 10/14 : Standing on the horizon

Minors DNI Contains heavy spoilers The Guardian Angel navigation post

The boots were heavy on your feet and a tad oversized, but it was not comfort you were aiming for right now. You zipped up the suit to your chin and pulled the balaclava over your head.

Your heart drummed in your throat not much unlike the moment when the Squid Game had started, mere days ago, yet it seemed like a lifetime. Straightening your back, you turned to In-ho, who was looking at you with a rather unsure expression. “We can get someone else to fetch your grandfather,” said he, but you shook your head.

“I want to do it.” You had made your decision, and even the Front Man could not change your mind in that. “I want to make sure that all goes according to plan. We’ve got enough suspicious eyes around as is, with that rogue soldier.” You fingered the pink fabric of the jumpsuit. It felt uncomfortably warm, but it might just be the nerves that enhanced that sensation. “The less people know, the better.”

“Do you take full responsibility, (Y/n)?”

“What do you mean?” you quizzed, hoisting the rifle over your shoulder. It was heavy, and you hoped that it wouldn’t give you a painful strain.

“If anything were to happen to you,” said In-ho, “Mr Oh Il-nam would never forgive me for it. I need to ensure your--”

“In-ho.” you cut him off, looking him in the eye. “Between these walls, apart from my grandfather, you know me better than anyone else. Then you also realise how much I need my grandfather to get out of there unscathed, see to his well-being.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line and gave you a nod. “As you wish, ma’am.”

There was that professional edge to his voice again, even though nobody was with you in the room. You sighed and slipped the triangle mask over your face, your eyes adjusting to the limited sight it gave you.

“How do I look?” you said with a small smile, even though he was not able to see it.

A ghost of a grin tugged at his lips. “You look good.”

You wrapped a hand around the rifle, holding it a bit tighter. “Good is not what I was aiming for, In-ho.”

His eyes narrowed and he slightly tilted his head. “Then… What were you aiming for, (Y/n)?”

In-ho stepped closer. An unfamiliar glimmer laid in his eyes, but it disappeared as soon as you clarified yourself. “I was hoping that you’d say I look ‘convincing enough’ to pass as an actual soldier.” Your voice was muffled by the mask.

He sighed and reached forward to adjust the strap of the rifle on your shoulder to make it hang somewhat higher. “There, now you look the part.”

You took a deep breath and walked towards the door. “In that case,” you stated, “It is showtime. I will be back before the VIPs are here, you can trust me on that.”

“Good luck, (Y/n).”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw him stand in the middle of the hall, a bit tense at the shoulders. In his hand he held his mask and played with the strap that sat on the back.

“Thank you.” you responded, leaving him be.

~*~*~

There was desperation in Mi-nyeo’s voice when the timer ran out, and something akin to reproach, aimed at the Players who had actively refused her offer to work together, including Gi-hun.

“You guys,” she cried out, loud enough to drown out the voiceover, “You’re all making a big mistake! Do you really think you can win without me on your team?”

The pairs stood and went to the set of doors that had opened at the end of the room. Beyond it laid the new game field, where they were supposed to go.

“I am Han Mi-nyeo! I’ve made suckers out of everyone there is, from Dongducheon to Gangnam!” Her breath hitched in her throat as she frantically looked around, approaching pairs to beg them to change partners.

Nobody, however, listened to her pleas, no matter how bone-chilling her shrieking was. Part of Gi-hun felt awful for her, but in all fairness, he was glad that he had chosen the old man instead, which had been his duty in a sense.

Leaving her distraught cries behind, Gi-hun went into the room with Player 001, but Mi-nyeo was heard far beyond the doors.

The Players gathered in the middle, but her frenzy was still audible even after the room closed off. It disappeared into the distance as she was dragged away, and Gi-hun looked at the guards with triangle masks in front of him. The playing field looked like some sort of old village covered in twilight, and he felt a pang of nostalgia.

“Attention. All Players, please follow the staff to your designated positions for the game.”

One by one, the pairs were led away by individual armed soldiers, and together with the old man, Gi-hun was also escorted.

They walked through a few of the streets, following the soldier in front of them. “You know,” Player 001 piped up, “When I was a kid, I used to live in a neighbourhood just like this.”

Gi-hun chuckled. “So did I. And you know, our alleyway looked very similar.”

“Really?” said the old man with a large grin on his face.

The guard halted in their tracks and turned to them.

“Players, please take one bag each from the staff member before you.” the voiceover instructed, and the soldier held out two small bags towards him and the old man.

Something clinked inside when Gi-hun took it. “There should be a set of ten marbles in each bag. Please check to confirm the number.”

He took them in his palm and counted them quickly. “It’s marbles,” said he, “Old man, we’re going to be playing with this. Are you familiar with it?”

Player 001 hummed and began to smile widely. “Ah, yes, very familiar. Used to have a lot as a kid. Oh, yes, back in the day!” The man beamed with joy and looked at Gi-hun. “And you know, I was pretty good.”

“Not too bad myself!” Gi-hun responded, laughing. “Ah, that is good news! I’m glad it’s not just about our strength.”

The old man began to excitedly move back and forth a little, barely able to contain his joy. “That means you and I are…” he paused, “Gganbu now! Pretty great!”

“Gganbu, huh?” Gi-hun quizzed.

“I thought you said you played this before. Gganbu, come on, you know! It’s a good friend! One who you trust a lot. You share things with them, you see?”

Gi-hun gasped in realisation. “Ah!” he said with a beaming grin.

“Your marbles, everything!” the old man finished his explanation.

Gi-hun pointed at the side of his head, “A gganbu! I remember now! I had one in my town, too. Used to do everything with him!”

Player 001 snickered. “Okay, we are gganbu!” He held out his hand, his little finger outstretched for Gi-hun. “Should we make this official?”

Laughing, Gi-hun accepted the offer of the small but meaningful pact. “Yeah buddy, like this!” He hooked his little finger around the old man’s, and they pressed their thumbs together.

“You and me, sir,” Gi-hun chimed, quickly correcting himself: “Oh, gganbu! We will go around this whole town and take all the marbles.”

They grinned at each other for a second before Gi-hun turned to the guard, awaiting their signal to start playing.

However, the woman on the PA had not yet finished the explanation of the rules.

“In this game, using your set of ten marbles, you will play the game of your choice with your partner. The Player who manages to take all ten marbles from their partner wins.”

A wave of sadness overcame Gi-hun as he attempted to grasp what had just been announced, looking at the old man, who was looking at his marbles with a radiant smile.

One of them would not come out of here alive.

“How pretty!’ the old man mused, holding one of his marbles against the light of the artificial sun, exhaling in awe of the glass sphere.

Gi-hun sighed. “Sir, excuse me.”

“You will have thirty minutes for this game. Let the game begin.”

The old man began wandering off right when the timer began to count down. “Uh, sir, come back!” Gi-hun called after him, breathing heavily whilst beginning to pursue said Player.

You followed them suit, keeping up with them, swallowing the lump of tears that had begun to form in your throat. It had been years since you had seen your grandfather glow like that and were taken aback by how genuine his expression had been, as well as how close he had grown to Seong Gi-hun.

It was almost unfair to make Player 456 believe that the old man would be dead at the end of this game, but then, you knew that it had been coming from the very start. The plan of safely extracting your grandfather from the Squid Game without raising suspicion had been watertight.

If your grandfather had the losing hand, you would pretend to execute him and hand in a coffin weighed down with bags of leftover sugar, which were already laying at the exit, placed there beforehand.

If he happened to get the winning hand, he’d pretend to get lost in a spell of dementia in the hopes that the other Player would take advantage of his vulnerable state. Gi-hun in this case. Even though you did not want him to break the promise that had been sealed by their little fingers, you knew how strong one’s survival instinct would be when it truly came to it, and that Seong Gi-hun would fight for his life.

Had your grandfather not been chosen, he would have been removed from the waiting room, not returning to the playing grounds anymore, thus unsuspectingly making the Players believe that he had been eliminated.

But he was not alone, and he had to make it seem believable that his illness was acting up, wandering off in complete awe of the streets around him.

“We must be close.” your grandfather mumbled whilst you walked three paces behind Gi-hun, “Yes, it was somewhere around here, huh.”

Gi-hun stepped in front of him, desperation upon his features. “Come on, let’s play. Sir, we need to! Come, let’s play this right now.” He held the bag of marbles in the face of the old man.

“This is so strange!” said Player 001, “It should be here. This is the alley!”

Gi-hun turned to you unexpectedly, and you felt your face heat up. His eyes were pleading, but whatever could you do?

“Where… My house, where did it go?” your grandfather questioned.

“Sir, come back!” Gi-hun panicked, going after him. You had no other choice but to go with them, your heart heavy with Gi-huns impending grief. It would be irreversible, and you stood witness to it all.

“Sir, we have to play now! We’ve got to start right now!”

“Play what?”

“With our marbles!” said Gi-hun, “Let’s go!”

Your grandfather stared at him. “Why should I?”

Gi-hun scoffed and pointed around the room, “Look around you! Everybody else is playing, too!” He put his hands on the old man’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “We have to do this!”

Il-nam roughly shoved off his hands. “No! That game is for little children!” With a grunt, he continued his stalking through the playing grounds, in search of his house.

He played the part well, you thought to yourself. It would have been enough to even convince you if you hadn’t known better, and the idea itself made your shoulders heavy with how realistic it seemed. The problem was that it could be more than just acting.

Gi-hun turned to you in dread, and begged you to listen. “Sir, he’s not in his right mind, sir!” You could not reveal your voice, nor your identity, but the anxiety in his eyes made your heart clench in your chest. “I think he’s got dementia! Does that mean that he’s out, or… He’s not gonna play! So that means he is forfeited, right?”

You had to bite your tongue to keep silent, for you wanted to take away his anguish and take your grandfather back to safety, to tell Gi-hun that he would live to see another day, but if you would speak now, everything would have been for nothing. Gi-hun would have to be executed for the advantage you’d be giving him.

And so you stood your ground. No amount of imploring could sway you now, no matter how badly you wanted to relieve him of his agony.

Your grandfather stood at a metal gate, attempting to open it to peer through the gap, and Gi-hun cursed under his breath before going to him, once again begging him to play. “Just one little game, okay?” Gi-hun said with a feigned smile, “Here, it will be… It will be so much fun, sir!”

“No, I’d better go home now,” said your grandfather. “I know my house is nearby. It’s somewhere down this alley.” He peeked inside, and Gi-hun grunted in desperation. In a wave of panic, he grabbed Player 001 and placed him roughly with his back against the wall. “Will you just pull yourself together, old man?!”

You had to withhold yourself from intervening, and had to witness with mixed feelings how Gi-hun implored your grandfather to play. “They will kill us both if we don’t get started soon!” His bottom lip trembled, and your grandfather leaned away from him. “You got that thing in your head, so I bet you don’t care what happens here, but I won’t just sit here and die, okay?!”

He grabbed your grandfather by the upper arms and shouted in his face, “Listen, I can’t die! I need to get out of here!”

Oh Il-nam whimpered and turned to respond. “Don’t yell at me.” he stated, “All right, I will play, but don’t yell.”

Gi-hun sighed in relief, yet sobbed with unshed adrenaline. Trembling, he released your grandfather and went with him to a more secluded area. Sitting down on the threshold of one of the fake doors, they began to play under your watchful eye.

They decided upon the game where one Player had to guess if the number of marbles in the other’s hand was even or odd.

You observed how their game unfolded, your grandfather’s hands thinner than they had been before. They trembled with the lack of medication he had received over the past days, and it hurt to see. You blinked rapidly to prevent your tears from falling, and saw how Gi-hun lost five of his marbles to your grandfather, who successfully guessed the amount in Gi-hun’s hand to be even.

Shifting the rifle on your shoulder, you made yourself a bit more comfortable. The countdown was already halfway through, and so you grew more anxious with the minute, no matter that you knew the outcome of the game. Regardless of how it would go, Gi-hun would be considered victorious, even if it happened to be the other way around at the very last minute. Fifteen minutes, and you would be able to ensure your grandfather’s safety at last.

The final ten minutes were counting down, and your grandfather narrowed his eyes at Gi-hun’s closed fist. “It might be odd…” he muttered, “On the other hand, it could be even.” He paused. “That must be it.”

“Come on, hurry up and go.” Gi-hun’s patience had certainly left him.

“Odd.”

You saw how life drained from Gi-hun’s eyes, and he opened his palm with a sigh of despair. Your grandfather laughed. “Look at that! I won again!”

“How many are in yours?” Gi-hun whimpered. Your grandfather revealed four.

“Ah, shit…” Gi-hun sighed, breathing heavily. You had noticed that your grandfather did not have a full set of marbles yet, but still stepped in Gi-hun’s direction, rifle in hand.

“I still have one!” Gi-hun breathed in a frightened fashion, even though you had made no implication that you were going to shoot him. He showed you the marble, and you remained in your position. “I still have one more.”

The first gunshot rang through the air and pulled Gi-hun out of the next round. He shakily exhaled and peered at your grandfather’s closed fist, trying his best to guess correctly, even though the game was purely about odds.

“Even.” said Gi-hun. Your grandfather moved his hand to open it, but Gi-hun grabbed it tightly. “No, hold on. That’s not what… Wait a minute… Just give me a second.”

There was no tactic to his change of decision, but he did it nevertheless. “Odd.” He nodded and repeated: “Odd.”

Il-nam opened his fingers.

It revealed an even number of marbles, and Gi-hun trembled with fear at the realisation. He blinked slowly, attempting to comprehend his loss. Of course, it was of no use.

“Which one did you just say?” your grandfather questioned.

Gi-hun looked up at the old man, frowning. “What?”

“Can you repeat what you said just now?”

“Even.” Gi-hun lied. “I said, even.”

Your grandfather looked at his marbles whilst your stomach churned, knowing that you probably would have done the same had it come to a matter of life and death.

“Oh…” muttered your grandfather, “I lost this one.”

He handed a marble to Gi-hun, and they continued the game. Guilt tugged at Gi-hun’s heart, but he had no other choice if he wanted to live. For a moment, you crossed his mind.

Was he really going to take your grandfather away from you? Would he cheat his way out of this game and leave you without a chance of any hopeful future, should your grandfather win?

He thought back on the conversation he had with you a few days prior. He imagined you pacing around your apartment, concerned about the man you cared for so much.

Still, Gi-hun lied his way through the game, unaware of your proximity to it all. With every marble that weighed down onto his hand, his conscience became a little heavier.

If you knew, he wondered, would you forgive him?

The old man once again forgot what he said, and Gi-hun once again deceived him.

Gunshots rang through the air, and you watched with a tight throat how Gi-hun was misleading your grandfather right in front of your very own eyes.

And still, you felt something warm in your gut every time you laid eyes on Gi-hun.

Under gunfire in the distance, your grandfather put an odd number of marbles on his open palm, not even hiding it from Gi-hun’s view. Player 456 squinted with guilt and early onset grief about his betrayal.

“Odd,” he muttered.

“Hold on,” whispered the old man suddenly, “What is today’s date?”

Gi-hun frowned.

“My son has his birthday soon. What day is it? The 24th? I was going to buy him a toy robot for his birthday. This year, I need to get him a gift. I completely forgot last year.” Player 001 smiled, “I better do that soon. I can’t forget again.”

Gi-hun’s chin shivered, and he was close to crying. The old man snapped out of his thoughts, realising they were playing something. “Ah, my hand. What was your guess again?”

“Odd.” Gi-hun breathed with a heavy voice.

Three marbles lay in his palm, and Gi-hun opened his hand with trembling fingers to reveal the exact amount of marbles your grandfather had.

Your grandfather shook his small bag, but nothing fell out. “I’m out of marbles.” he sighed with a grunt of annoyance. “What should I do, huh? I’d love to keep playing. Hey, would you let me borrow one from you? Just for a while.”

Your grandfather smiled, but Gi-hun could not even look at him. Crying, Gi-hun rose from his seat, whispering his last words to the old man in an apology. “Sir, I’m so sorry.”

He approached you slowly, but your grandfather reached for his pocket. “Oh. Look at that! Forgot I had another one here.” He beamed with joy, and Gi-hun turned slowly. “Not out yet!” Il-nam said with a chuckle. “One more to go.”

Gi-hun’s face contorted, and he went to count his marbles on the ground, coming up to nineteen. Your duty to keep silent had you witness your grandfather wander off once again without you being able to say anything about it. It was not without reason that he did so, and you knew that he would not let Gi-hun die like that.

You stared at the numbers 001 on Gi-hun’s back as you followed them, your heartstrings tightening in pain. It was a bittersweet sight, and you wished that there had been more time to see him and your grandfather interact, to see them bond and thrive, but instead, their friendship was crumbling to what remained of it in this very minute.

“Sir, please, let’s just play one more time, huh?” He tried to convince your grandfather. “Come on, one more round.”

“Oh.” your grandfather said in awe upon looking at one of the artificial homes, “It's this one!” Breathing in delight, he approached the door, “Yes, this is the one! My wife and I had this one here! I raised my son right here!” He reached for the doors and pushed them open, reminiscing on the life he had fabricated for himself.

“Yes! I even had a nice little pond, right here in the front yard.”

“Sir, please, you have one marble left!” Gi-hun implored, putting a hand on his shoulder as he followed him inside and roughly spun him around. “We are running out of time sir!”

“And I,” your grandfather continued, undisturbed, “I would come home from work, and see my son, his friends were always here and they would all play, and they wouldn’t even know I was here!”

Gi-hun grabbed onto your grandfather, shaking him back and forth. “You need to get it together!” he exclaimed into his face, “Get it together and play with me again right now, understood?”

Il-nam was unfazed. “I would hide and I’d go just behind the utility pole there and take a peek at all of them playing and just watching. They would always have so much fun.”

The vivid description almost overwhelmed you, for you knew he had your uncle in mind.

“Sir, please! Try to snap out of it, sir!” Gi-hun sobbed. “Sir, I’m begging you.”

Tears leaked down his cheeks and he pressed his head against his chest.

“Why don’t we do one more round and bet it all?” suggested your grandfather.

Gi-hun’s face snapped up. “What?”

“Everything that I still got,” Il-nam clarified, “Against everything that you’ve got.”

Gi-hun released him and shook his head. “You can’t possibly mean that.” he whispered.

“You’re gonna take yours and bet it all, and I’ll do the same with everything that I still got here. Okay? That keeps everything fair.”

You swallowed thickly, knowing what he was aiming at. He was shrewd beyond all.

“I’ll wager all I got just to get your one?” Gi-hun breathed in disbelief, and your grandfather nodded in acknowledgement. “What kind of nonsense is this?!” He exclaimed, genuinely in shock. “There is no sense at all!”

“So then…” stated your grandfather, “That’s what you did this whole time. Does tricking your gganbu like that make sense to you?” Gi-hun’s offence was quickly replaced with deep shame.

He exhaled, tears close to shedding, and he bowed his head in remorse. He could not bear to look Il-nam in the eye, not after what he had done.

Peeking around the corner, you had watched it unfold, and saw how your grandfather took Gi-hun’s hand in his. “Take it.” said Player 001, putting the cold marble against Gi-hun’s hand. “It’s yours anyway.”

Gi-hun’s face trembled, tears now freely flowing down his cheeks. Behind your mask, you couldn’t fight your own sorrow anymore. They gathered in the bottom at your chin, and you let out a hot, shaky breath against the inside of the face covering.

“We are… Gganbu, aren’t we? Don’t you remember? When you and I swore that we were gganbu buddies. Gganbu always share everything with each other no matter what.”

Gi-hun began to cry harder, unable to speak, and Il-nam closed his hand around the marble. “Thank you,” said he, “You made all this... A good experience. What a great way to go.”

You let out a shivering exhale at your grandfather’s joyful expression, a beaming smile breaking out on his face. Your legs felt weak, and you felt like fainting, almost, overcome with sadness.

“What a great way to go,” he promised, “Really.”

Gi-hun squeezed his eyes shut and began to silently wail, allowing your grandfather to pull him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

Gi-hun whimpered, howling in your grandfather’s arms. You just stood there, unbothered on the outside, but your heart broke in your chest. You did not want to force them asunder, but you had no choice.

They held each other firmly, and Gi-hun felt nauseous at the thought of you, and the way he had deceived your grandfather. And most of all, the way the old man so easily forgave him. He wondered if you would do the same if he so happened to survive these lethal games.

The timer beeped, and gunshots rang through the air. Gi-hun released your grandfather and stepped away slowly, turning around to leave the premises, wanting nothing else but to howl into his pillow until he would fall into a dreamless sleep.

“Hey, I remember my name now.” Gi-hun could barely hear him over how loudly his heart beat in his own ears, but halted in his tracks. He did not have the power to turn to the old man, who in his final moments recalled his name.

“My name is Il-nam. Oh Il-nam.”

You walked past Gi-hun into the small secluded space, and Gi-hun walked off, vision blurred with tears, and guilt screwed his throat shut.

Grabbing your handgun instead of your rifle, you waited a few seconds, aiming it at your grandfather’s head. Then, you moved the barrel down, a bullet embedding itself into the ground in between you.

“Player 001, eliminated.” sounded through the room.

Il-nam looked at you, and you reached for your mask, taking it off.

Your cheeks were damp with tears, and your grandfather wryly smiled at you.

“My dear,” he whispered, opening his arms.

You sniffled, accepting his embrace.

#seong gihun x reader #squid game #reader insert #squid game x reader #seong gi hun #x reader #gi hun x reader #squidgame #gi-hun x reader #squid game fanfic #the guardian angel

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razberryyum · 4 years ago

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Scumbag System (SVSSS donghua) Episode 10 Thoughts (spoilers)

(covers SVSSS chaps 24 - 26, BC Novels Translations)

And thus the first season of the SVSSS donghua comes to an end...rather weirdly abruptly to be honest, but more on that later. Obviously I love the donghua. It was not perfect, but it still exceeded my expectations. I truly appreciate what they were able to do within their budget constraints and I think they captured the spirit of the source material perfectly, which is really all I hope for when it comes to adaptations. The writing was strong, the humor hit the spot always (for example, when poor Shizun got motion sickness from sword riding, I guffawed), and they also gave us some of the most beautiful characters I’ve ever seen on screen, especially with Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. I really, really hope they release official figurines for them. I’m going to start saving my money now just for that possibility.

Even though their time together in this episode was short, the BingQiu love was definitely strong. They gave them a combo move that was not in the source material: for someone like me who grew up watching Cantonese dramas, two characters who have a combo sword move (”雙劍合璧”!) are usually a couple so I was especially tickled by this addition. I am always thankful to the donghua team for the little Easter Eggs they give us for BingQiu, like the way Binghe's eyes lit up when he sees SQQ...

or when SQQ touches him...

Once again, for those not in the know, it can easily be interpreted as a disciple just being devoted and filial to his Shizun. But for those of us who have read the novel, of course we know it’s indication of Bingmei falling in love with SQQ. I love how subtle yet significant these little expressions of Binghe’s are, and I hope they continue on with these little touches even in the next season.

Of course then there are the more obvious gestures, like that HUG:

It lasted for a good 15 seconds and oh my God look at the Binghe’s hand placement! There was totally nipple groppage happening there! This wasn’t in the book by the way...SQQ didn’t get woozy and Binghe most definitely didn’t have to catch him like some fainting damsel, so we have the donghua team to thank for this wonderful moment of (sexy) physical contact between the two of them.

The donghua team was also especially generous in this episode since not only did we get some BingQiu love, but we got a pinch of LiuShen and QiJiu love too.

LQG’s eyes were on SQQ the entire time! And then Yue Qingyuan as usual took any opportunity he got to touch his Qingqiu. So all shippers were fed. Hell, they even threw in some more straight-baiting again so peeps who are watching the show for the “straight” romance between Luo Binghe and his never-to-be-future-wife Qin Wanyue were fed too since the scene where Binghe gives her the handkerchief to wipe away her tears were not in the chapters of the book for this episode, and racking my brain I don’t even think it was in the book, period. I’m trying to remember if that handkerchief even holds any significance but even if it does, it’s all for naught since we know Qin Wanyue is at most just a minor side character. She does pop up again later on but then is mostly forgotten, so...not quite sure what that moment was all about other than to, I don’t know, throw off the censors?

I’m also not sure why we spent so much time with Liu Mingyan and Gongyi Xiao in this episode. Nothing against them personally, I like both characters very much (despite my previous complaints about GYX’s character design), and it’s not that they don’t deserve more screen time, but this was the season finale! Even though the next season has been announced, God knows when we’ll see it next year and how many episodes it would be, so every minute of screen time matters! That’s why I was a bit puzzled that they used up half of the episode showing LMY basically facing the same perils with her group of fellow disciples as before and GYX just running from that huge serpent. Even if that thing DOES turn out to be Zhuzhi-lang, it was still a bit much. They weren’t exactly character building scenes either so...why? Budget reasons? Didn’t have enough money to pay SQQ’s voice actor (Wu Lei-laoshi) so they had to stick in miscellaneous scenes to lessen his screen time?

I’m kidding of course. God I hope that wasn’t the reason because that would just be sad.

Speaking of miscellaneous scenes though, what was going on with these two dudes?

I gotta admit, I’m a bit salty that these two mob characters got to do what our main couple can’t. What’s their story? Why do they get special privileges? Damn these nobodies. XD

All kidding aside, I have to say, of all the episodes this season, this might be the weakest one, not only because of the “filler” scenes, but also, the way the episode ended was so odd, especially for a season finale. The season basically ended on a scene transition. Not a cliffhanger, just a scene transition, and then cut to credits. What?? Why??? It’s almost as if they just ran out of time so had to stop the show all of a sudden. And then as if to make up for it, they added post-credit scenes which, honestly blew me away because it was so unexpected. It was indeed almost enough to make me completely forgive the weakness of the episode as a whole and that weird-ass ending.

I teared up! The scene was kind of chopped up, didn’t even flow that smoothly, but I still got emotional! I’m sure when I see this scene in its entirety next season I am just going to be destroyed. I think they made it even more gut-wrenching than it was in the novel. Looks like the donghua team really aren’t gonna hold back when it comes to delivering the BingQiu knives.

We also got to see Mobei-jun appear in the post-credits scene; I guess they had to stick him in there since he was featured in the poster for this season, so it would have been weird if he didn’t at least make an appearance.

I immediately thought of him as Sephiroth’s younger cousin when I first saw him on the poster and I still feel that way. Anyone related to Sephiroth, I will approve and instantly have affection for. For the MoShang shippers’ sake, I hope the Shang Qinghua they create for him will be just as pretty. I think I can now safely discard my guess from last time and also that moon-faced bearded ojisan others have guessed. We actually got a glimpse of the real deal in this sequence:

They strategically made him blurry so you can’t really make out his features, but what we still can tell from there is that he does not have facial hair (hence, he cannot be the ojisan) and the hair crown he’s wearing is silver and different from the twinky sect leader. So I guess we’ll be getting a fresh out of the microwave Airplane Bro instead of any of the no-name potential cannon fodder we’ve already seen.

We’ll probably get the abyss opening up in maybe even the first episode of next season but that’ll still leave a lot of ground to be covered in just 10 episodes (rumored). There haven’t been any talk about a third season, but I really hope it’ll happen, even though it might take them a while to make it. I know it’s premature to even think of a third season when we haven’t even gotten an actual release date for the second, but I’m greedy because I already miss the donghua. This season was over so quickly, I’m already mourning the lack of new episodes. I hope we get the second season in the first quarter of next year and then by some miracle, a third or even fourth to properly finish out the story. I know we will never get the FULL story, but as long as they keep the spirit of BingQiu’s love and continue to hint at it like they’ve been doing this season, I will be more than satisfied.

And while I’m wishful thinking for new seasons, I hope we also get a BingQiu duet and character songs. I love the opening and ending theme this season, if they want to save money I totally don’t mind if they just use the same OP/ED themes in the next season as well, but I hope they throw in a good BingQiu insert song and then release some individual character songs as well. I’m still not a fan of Binghe’s voice, but maybe they can have someone else do his vocals for the songs. SVSSS is the older son of MXTX’s works, I feel like it already got short-shrifted in terms of adaptation since it got the lesser budget compared to MDZS and TGCF. Hopefully with how popular the donghua is this season, it will be given a bigger budget next season so they can bring to life all the subsequent proceedings from the book properly. And whatever they’re paying Wu Lei-laoshi, SQQ’s voice actor, they should double it because that man is just amazing. I worship his voice and performance. I wish he would read the audiobook version of the the novel. I would listen to the hell out of that. I have always loved SQQ, but if I’m going to be honest, I came into the show just a little more excited about seeing Bingge being brought to life. I still love Binghe of course, in all his phases, however, now, because of Wu Lei-laoshi’s stellar voice performance (and of course SQQ’s beautiful looks), I’m leaving this season absolutely head over heels about SQQ/Shen Yuan. Also thanks to the show, I’m completely obsessed with Liu Qingge as well. So for those two reasons, I will eternally be grateful to the donghua team.

#SVSSS #Scumbag System #Scum Villain donghua #Scum Villain Self-saving System #BingQiu #LiuShen #QiJiu #MoShang

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wendibird · 4 years ago

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SPN 15X14 Observations

So, for whatever dumbass reason, when trying to use my actual television, the cable refuses to work properly 8 times out of 10. BUT I was able to stream tonight’s episode on my computer with my cable network’s app. So, there’s that. Because of that, and since it’s easier for me to type on my keyboard than on my phone, I actually took quick notes and observations during commercial breaks. Here are those, then some more of my thoughts following. (And I’m sorry if any of these seem a bit incoherent. They were more my observations to myself. *LOL*

(everything else under the keep reading line since I got a bit rambly, and just in case anyone wants to avoid spoilers)

- Brothers being written a bit like characters of themselves rather than just themselves. (trying too hard?)

- Love Mrs. Butters. Actress really good. And the minor ret-con works with what we've seen.

- Sam more concerned about Jack. I think he understands him better, even though he hasn't seen much of him.

- "Ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy." (or something like that.) Good quote!

- Waiting for the catch.

- "Enjoy the world you're fighting for." (compare with Kevin's similar line: "I can't enjoy a world I need to save.")

- Mrs. Butters knows Jack isn't human.

- BOY did the shoe drop! But it was Sinclaire involved. Not surprised he took advantage of her natural protective nature.

- Wanted more plot for WHY exactly they still have Thor's Hammer. Have they had it this whole time? Last we saw Sam dropped it in 8X2. Or did Mrs. Butters conjure it up because they might need it? Was cool though that Sam was using it. Because we already know he can.

- Jack figured out on his own how to use the projector. (love that boy!)

- liked hearing him talk about what happened with Mary and how he feels.

- Mrs. Butters knows from experience about needing "second chances" I think.

- Why were they ALWAYS wearing the same clothes during the "We got one!" montages? Assuming it was supposed to have taken place over several days at least if not longer. (I highly doubt they went out on THAT many hunts in one day.)

- Yeeeah... So I get she's protective, but JACK IS BABY! She can clearly see his power levels but she has to have seen how he he actually IS? But she gave him the smoothies from the start, so she's been planning it from almost the start. Hrm.

- idk what anyone else says, I'm thrilled that Sam and Eileen had a date. Also, THIS is where that sweater-vest comes from. Bet we'll see him going for his gun too. (That clip was hotly debated in one of the discord servers I’m on)

- Dean is obviously still having some issues with Jack, but he also seems to know that they're his personal issues and he knows that Jack is good. (Expanding on this thought post episode, I was seeing this as Dean recognizing the difference between what he knows and what he’s feeling. So, yey! Personal growth!)

- DEAN JACK IS NOT A BATTERING RAM!!!

- Dean sees Jack as a weapon. He used him as a battering ram. He'll use him as a grenade to throw at Chuck. (More on this after the notes.)

- Sam sees him as a person. His argument was that Jack was someone he cared about. That killing him would HURT him.

- Also, did they HAVE to go for the fingernails again?!

- Poor Sam, getting tortured. And being the "favorite" of something bad.

- Also, SAM WAS RIGHT! To be cautious of her at first. Too many times he's had things/people seem good and turn out opposite.

- And because Dean had decided it was all okay, they both stopped looking up on her.

- Maybe Sam will realize that he doesn't always have to follow Dean's lead. He can pursue his own paths. (Not talking about them separating. Just, if he wants to look into something, he should do it. If he wants to follow a different lead, he should check it out.)

- I know he lost a lot of confidence last season but I hope he realizes that he doesn't by default make bad decisions.

- Okay, that was a good resolution. I'm glad she's going back to her people.

- Interdimensional geoscope: Dean saw nothing. Because ALL the other universes are gone. *sad-face*

- Love Sam and Jack. Wish we got a bit more. But it was something.

- Also love that Dean tried. That felt real to me. (the birthday cake)

More thoughts!

So. Overall I liked this episode. It was lighthearted mostly, but touched on some serious topics and wasn’t completely disconnected with what is going on with everyone, despite the random holiday montage. *LOL* (Yes, I know she wasn’t bending time or anything, she was just choosing to celebrate some holidays with her boys regardless of when this is all taking place exactly.) It did feel a bit to me, at the start anyway, like the writing at least was trying too hard to “Sound like Sam and Dean” instead of just them being them. I mentioned that at the start but what I mean is, in this season especially (but not exclusively) I’ve noticed a lot of times where it feels to me like the writing/directing/whatever leads to the sum total of what we see is trying too hard to present this idea of who the characters are, like caricatures of them. The things associated with them get emphasized, sometimes out of proportion. Though in this episode, it only felt like that during the opening scene and maybe a few places elsewhere. Overall I thought the writing and especially the acting on the parts of the main 3 guys and the guest actor were well done and had a lot of nuance when needed. Like, as an example, when Sam and Dean sussed out that this being that they didn’t even know was a bit behind the times, they were actually pretty gentle with bringing her up to speed. And her reaction to realizing that everyone she knew before was dead felt very real.

I liked what we saw of where each of the characters were emotionally this episode. It was the first one after Jack has been re-souled and it had definitely been weighing on my mind how everyone was doing. (Though I REALLY wish we could have actually seen Sam and Dean’s reactions to Jack tearfully begging their forgiveness last episode. But lacking any other input, I’m headcannoning that Sam gave him a very long, warm hug.)

I also agree with Sam, I think there’s something more that Jack hasn’t told them yet, probably some details about Billy’s plan that he or her are sure the brothers won’t like. (Now, what exactly that could be is very much up in the air. I can think of quite a few options, but the details aren’t really important to me just now. Just the fact that something about it is weighing on Jack. More than just Mary’s death and the prospect of having to kill God. Which, in and of themselves would be more than enough.)

Speaking of Sam, I liked that we saw all those little nods to how he feels about Jack, how he’s still worried about him, and seems to understand him.

I also get where Dean’s coming from. And I thought it was well-portrayed. And let me just say, I am GLAD that he just outright told Jack where he was at. He didn’t sugarcoat it, but he also didn’t blow up at him, or reply with sarcasm or bring up other, unrelated stuff. Dean knows that Jack is trying, but he himself has some emotional stuff he needs to deal with. That he is dealing with. And it’s going to take him some time.

I do however stand by my observation made during the episode that at least at that point in it, Dean considered Jack a weapon. An asset. He literally used him as a battering ram, and in a more meta way, he’s planning on using him as a grenade to throw at God. Even when arguing with Mrs. B about it, his response was in reference to Jack’s usefulness. Whereas Sam was arguing that Jack meant something to him, that he cared about him, and hurting Jack would hurt him. Now, I do think that Dean’s POV had shifted a bit by the very end. Dean’s love language has almost always been shown by doing things for people, and taking care of them. So him making that birthday cake for Jack really felt to me like him trying to tell him that he does actually care about him. And I think Jack got it. And true, the cake might not have been as neat and pretty as Mrs. B would have made it, but I thought it was beautiful because of all the thought that went into it. (Dean’s more of a cook than a baker too.)

As a side note, something I thought about after the episode: when Mrs. B stepped in, she kind of took over that care-taker role. AND the research role. She made them lunches, cooked them dinners, decorated for holidays, and overall made them feel comfortable and safe. And she also pin-pointed where monsters were and made sure they were all stocked-up and ready to go. All they had to do was show up and get it done. And yeah, it must have been a nice break from the norm. But I also think about how much Dean finds his identity beyond hunting in taking care of people. And how much Sam finds his identity in researching and figuring things out. And with her doing that, they both took it easy on those ends. Dean didn’t have to make burgers for everyone since Mrs. B made a roast. Sam didn’t have to research since she could tell them where the monsters were and what kind. I almost wonder if both of them were starting to feel like those parts of themselves were all of a sudden unnecessary. (Which makes me a little sad, because it reminds me a bit of the “two cakes” concept in fandom. Who cares if someone else can “do it better”? If you do it, then there’ll be even more of the good thing!) And as I observed above, Sam also stopped looking into HER. I mean, he didn’t even know what would kill a wood nymph. And I do think part of that also goes back to him having recently fallen back on letting Dean make the big decisions. Because last season so many of his blew up in his face. (Though I don’t think most of that was his fault. But Sam tends to blame himself for a lot.) And I do hope that maybe he’ll remember that he does have good instincts when he listens to them. And he can keep looking into something even if Dean thinks it’s fine. It’s not a betrayal to be prepared.

ALSO! Being the absolute Saileen hoe that I am, even though we didn’t Eileen in this episode, I was thrilled that Sam went out on a date with her because she was in town! And true, we don’t know what all went down, but regardless, I see it as good that they’re at the very least still friends, and that hopefully Eileen is sorting out her own feelings vs whatever she might think could be Chuck’s manipulations. Even if Saileen isn’t Engame (and honestly, as much as I love it, I don’t think it will be) I would still like for them to be on good terms with each other. (And for her to NOT get fridged again!)

Another thing I was pondering afterwards and a bit during: I wasn’t surprised that Sam held up to the torture fairly well. I mean, it still obviously hurt! (And again, WHY with the fingernails again?! As someone in one of my discord servers mentioned, we didn’t need THAT particular call-back to the Christmas Episode of Season 3!) But he was listening to what she was saying. And he understood the implications that she had been tortured into acting how they wanted her to act. And Sam understands torture, and how it can mess someone up. And despite what she had done to him, and was trying to still do, he validated what she had been through. He empathized with her. And that.... it’s just SO Sam!

I will say that the resolution felt a little... abrupt. Like, her expression had changed a little during the fight/argument. Then back from the commercial break and she’s all packed-up and ready to leave and they’re all saying goodbye and wishing her well. I feel like there might have been some more scenes or parts of scenes that were originally there connecting things up more, but were cut for time.

I wouldn’t say this was a groundbreaking episode, but it WAS fun, and it did have some seriousness at it’s core, and I think it did what it needed to do.

(And I apologize if this is just a big rambling mess. I’m not used to doing structured episode reviews. *LOL* Feedback and opinions are welcome though!)

#spn 15x14 spoilers #spn season 15 spoilers #episode review #my thoughts #ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack kline #mrs butters #i still need more sam and jack

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cordytriestowrite · 5 years ago

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A Long Way Home

Loki x Reader

One Shot

Summary: You're not the only one back in New York tonight.

This follows the events that occurred in Far From Home so possible minor spoilers!

New York was gorgeous in the twilight hours but right now you couldn't care less. Your eyes kept closing causing you to miss entire blocks between the airport and home. You should have waited out Fury at this rate, between the flight delays and your terrible luck with your rideshare app there was no way you got home earlier than anyone who stayed in London for a few more hours for clean up. You rubbed your hands down your face feeling your mascara flake onto your palms. Jet lag was already hitting you hard but it was only half past seven. You needed to stay awake a few more hours or you would be fucked out of a normal sleep schedule for weeks. You closed your eyes again, resting your head against the seat. It was for only a second, or at least it felt as much, but when the car came to a stop at your apartment building you knew you had lost at least ten minutes of consciousness.

You were dead on your feet by the time you reached your door. Turning the key took every ounce of effort your could muster. Clumsily you stumbled through the entryway, pushing your suitcase ahead of you until you could toss it to the side, you would deal with unpacking later. Closing the door with your foot you trudged through the living room with only the lights outside peaking through your blinds to guide you. You should stay in the living room, park yourself on the couch and turn on the TV and force yourself to stay awake for another few hours. Halfway to the bedroom you let out a high pitched whine through clenched teeth before turning on your heel. You pulled your shirt over your head and resigned yourself to starting laundry now, the clunky sound of your old washing machine would definitely keep you from getting to sleep any time soon, when you noticed a dark figure out of the corner of your eye.

You turned to face the intruder with a level of alertness that had left you somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. Your trusty gun, usually attached to your hip, for all you knew was still in London. You shouldn't have taken that commercial flight home, for many reasons now. Your apartment was dark but you knew it well enough. There was a firearm taped to the underside of your coffee table, if only that wasn't between you and the intruder.

Speaking of the intruder, they weren't moving. There is no way they hadn't noticed you noticing them, you were full on facing them and completely still. You figured they may not be able to see you as well as you could see them. Banking on this assumption you sprinted the short distance to your coffee table. The moment you moved the figure mirrored your movement to the center of the room. You were grabbed before you could bend down and retrieve your gun. Strong arms pinned you to the intruder's chest and you struggled to get loose, kicking your feet in an attempt to send the assailant off balance.

"Calm down pet."

The words squeezed between your grunts of effort to reach your ears and as soon as your brain registered the voice your body stilled.

"Loki?"

He let you go. Reaching the wall you flicked on the overhead light. Loki was indeed standing in your living room, a signature smirk on his handsome face.

"What the fuck Loki?"

You were suddenly tired again, but you knew this weariness would not be abated by sleep. It came from a conversation long overdue. Loki came forward and pulled you to his chest again, this time wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You hesitated for a moment before bringing your arms around him and with your hands settled on his back you breathed in deeply, taking in his familiar scent.

"I've missed you." He mumbled into your bare shoulder making you aware of your state of undress. It's not that Loki hadn't seen it all before, but things were different now. You pulled away and he let you go. Picking your shirt off the floor you pulled it back over your head. Loki made a sound of disappointment.

"That's not necessary."

His tone said he was joking but his eyes held a flame of desire that sent a familiar tingle through your system. You swallowed and steeled yourself. You would not be swayed so easily by the god this time.

"A year, Loki. A fucking year."

His smirk fell for a second before it was back.

"Eleven months and twelve days actually."

You wanted to hit him. That's all he had to say?

"Oh, is that all? I guess I should be grateful then."

The sarcasm rolled off your tongue easily. It was an outlet for your anger, one that would fair better for your neighbors than a shouting match, or an all out brawl.

"Why are you here Loki?"

This was just like him, to only speak when you asked the right question. You had thought it clever upon first meeting him, charming even, but with a year of absence it had shifted from clever to annoying.

"I heard about the spider-"

You laughed and threw your arms up in disbelief. Loki was quiet again, the spark of humor in his eyes was now gone. He was waiting, planning his next few moves. You didn't even bother to work out a way to outsmart him, letting your anger bubble over.

"So you're here for Peter? That's just fucking great Loki. He lives about six blocks east though. Get the fuck out of my house."

You were pointing in the general direction of the door but Loki wasn't walking towards it. He closed the distance between you.

"I'm not just here for the boy. I've missed you."

His voice was low. Low and vulnerable and honest and it made your heart twinge with an emotion you buried in the months without him. Your tired eyes felt wet and you blinked any potential tears away. You sneered and pushed him back. There was a clarity in the distance that reminded you now wasn't a time to be anything other than livid.

"A year. A fucking year! You didn't even try."

He opened his mouth and only got a few syllables in before you were shouting over him.

"No! No excuses! I don't care if you were worlds away. We still get comms from Carol and Thor from fucking space. Why not you?"

Screw distance. You got right up in his face, pushing your finger into his chest with every word. Angry tears dropped down one by one.

"You don't get to just come back to me after letting us die."

His hands gripped your upper arms, the pressure in his fingertips bringing you back down. You waited for your breath to even out before looking Loki in the eye.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but his mouth wasn't moving. It was all in his eyes, an honesty his silver tongue couldn't wield. There was guilt and pain, yes, but in those eyes you saw the same affectionate gleam you witnessed every time he looked at you. It was still there directly contradicting his actions for the last eleven months and twelve days.

"I'm seeing someone."

The words came out of nowhere for both of you. It wasn't a lie necessarily, you started dating again around the eight month mark, after you finally admitted you were a fool to be waiting for Loki, but you weren't seeing anyone now. There was no someone but you wish their was, if only for a reason to finally let Loki go.

"Tell me about them."

It was not the response you were expecting. Your mouth opened to answer, then closed. Loki didn't seem to need an answer though.

"Do they know how to make you smile? Laugh?"

His hands snaked to your sides and gave you a quick tickle causing you to squirm and giggle. His smirk returned as let his hands grasped your hips.

"Are they good to you? Do they know how you like it?"

With a firm push of your hips Loki pinned you to the wall. His body crowded you, legs entangled to bring you even closer. Your pulse quickened at the feel of Loki's hot breath against your ear.

"Do they feel as terrible as I do when they aren't with you? Think of you every day? Do they love you like I do? Even a fraction?"

Your thoughts were swirling in you head. A jumbled tornado of hormonal reactions and quick retorts. One sentence shot through everything else and you found yourself saying it out loud.

"They would at least try to call."

Loki pulled back but you stayed pressed to the wall. Your body missed him instantly, it had been missing him for so long now but the brief moment together had your body addicted all over again. You wanted all of him again. The ways he made you smile and laugh, the long talks when neither of you could sleep. You wanted the kisses that made your knees weak and the sex that caused your legs to stop working all together. You wanted Loki to do all those things again, to make up for all the time you went without him.

"Just apologize Loki. Admit you made a mistake."

The air stilled between you, it seemed neither of you planned to breathe in the wake of whatever came next. It wasn't in Loki's nature to apologize, but it wasn't in yours to back down from whatever trouble your mouth got you into. You stared into his eyes in a silent challenge. Loki leaned into you, hands coming around your hips to rest on your lower back. His breath was back on your ear as he whispered.

"Forgive me."

"For what?"

You wanted to hear him say it. You didn't want to give in that easily, even if your body was ready to end the charade and get to the bedroom.

"For…" he paused and even though he was silent you could hear him struggling to form his next words.

"For making you suffer for my own doubts about us."

Grabbing a first full of hair from the back of his skull you pulled him away from your ear so you could look him in the eye again.

"I love you. What will it take for you to believe that I want this when I'm not there to say it?"

Despite the uncertainty in his gaze the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Centuries of therapy."

You chuckled, Loki joining in for a few beats before your lips crashed onto his. The grip on the back of his head tightened and he let out a hiss you knew to be pained pleasure. Your bodies moved exactly as they should after a year apart. Your shirt was discarded once again, followed by a few of Loki's many layers. He pulled you by the hips away from the wall only to push you toward your bedroom. In between desperate collisions of lips and tongue he whispered.

"There isn't someone else is there?"

You smiled wide and continued to work Loki's belt from his pants. He groaned your name and pulled you into a searing kiss, his question forgotten entirely. You'd let him sweat on that a little while longer.

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everlarkficexchange · 5 years ago

Text

Unmasked ~ Twenty-One

Written by: ~ M ~

Prompt #88

Rating: E (Explicit) This fic will contain consensual sexual content; mild language; discussions of injuries, illness, and amputations in a historical setting; discussions of miscarriage; discussions of minor character suicide; references to non consensual sexual situations; minor character death.

My thanks to the moderators of @everlarkficexchange for always running an entertaining event, and for playing along with a little fun and mystery.

Now, dear readers, a bit of fun. I thank you for allowing me to write and share with you from behind a mask, for embracing this story wholeheartedly despite not knowing my identity. A few of you have wondered at it, and since we approach the end of this story, I have a small game for you to play. At the end of each chapter from now until the final one, I will provide a clue. You must use the clue to hunt for a word in the text of the chapter itself. Gather the words, hold onto them, for they will provide the final clue to the puzzle.

Understanding that I cannot control your actions, I do ask that you use caution in discussing any theories. If you believe you have solved the puzzle before the end, I ask that you hold your silence and allow others to enjoy it as well. This is meant to be fun, so in the modern parlance… No spoilers please!

Please enjoy the twenty-first chapter of this adventure. Previous installments can be found here. Regards,

~ M ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ Chapter 21 ~~

Over the next several days, I immerse myself in tasks and avoid the concerned eyes of my family. Between the many guests, the festival, and Maysilee, I run myself ragged and am grateful to do so. If I am too busy to think, then I cannot think of Sir Robert’s words. If I cannot dwell on them, then I cannot insult my dearest friend by begging her to tell me it isn’t true. Such fickle hearts that stray so easily with the slightest bit of doubt! I do not want these thoughts in my heart.

Throughout each day, my mother has plates of food and tea sent to me, to entice me to eat more – ginger root tea in the morning, a dandelion tea in the afternoon, chamomile in the evening. My father expresses concern and I wave it off as fatigue.

“Too many guests to attend to, nothing more,” I assure him with a smile. I can see that he does not believe me, and yet Haymitch and Effie are kind enough to provide a timely distraction that keeps him from persisting. He has no choice but to let it go for the moment when he is faced with the same quandary that I hide behind.

My mind and my heart, torn apart between what I believe, and the distance between us, do not allow me to confess my fears, my shame, to anyone. Was I truly fooling myself, believing Peeta and I happy and in love? It would not be the first time my heart misled me so. The man in the mask lurks in the corners, taunting me with my past gullibility. I try not to think of him, yet the harder I try, the more present he becomes in my thoughts.

Madge worries over me, I know she does. I can see it in her eyes, and yet I cannot look too closely nor for too long. I know Sir Robert’s insinuations to be false, against all I know of her character, and yet I cannot seem to shake their hold. They creep into the darkest, most fearsome corners of my mind, an invasive vine of doubt clouding out the light of all reason. The more I fight them, the more they seem to take root. My own mind has become my worst enemy.

At night, I find no rest. Terrifying images of swirling reds and dancing flames. A leering man in a mask and one who seduces with sweet words and sweeter kisses. Betrayal and pernicious lies that leave me gasping and crying, reaching for the companion of my bed and of my life who is not there.

I long for him. I wish him here to hold me and know that I cannot wish that until I gain control of and evict these doubts from my heart.

Early in the mornings, before I rise, I lay in our bed and read each of Peeta’s letters again, perusing the pages of the sketch book meant only for me, hoping for some sort of solid proof to uproot the gnawing fears. He took his other sketch book with him, or I would peruse that one as well. While the early letters help, the latter, more impersonal ones only serve to clear a space for the fear to grow further into my heart. I’ve no reason, no accounting for his growing distance from me and it feeds the fear.

Rain arrives and either cancels or drives the festivities indoors, such as they are. The day before Peeta is meant to return, I wake late, to a near silent house. I grumble to myself about being left abed too long and force myself into motion. I’ve much to see done today and do not intend to waste time.

I work and see to the household until I finally feel that I have earned some rest. I think I need solace and comfort, and the only place I know for certain I can find that now is in my mother and father’s embrace.

In searching for my parents, I discover a rather odd sight and halt in the hallway, peering through the door to Maysilee’s room at the pair playing on the floor.

“Katniss! So good to see you looking better. How are you feeling?” Delly says and Maysilee hurries over to hug me. “Won’t you join us?”

“Yes! Come play with us, Miss Katniss!” Maysilee pleads. I couldn’t possibly refuse her, much as I would like to avoid Delly right now. I agree and sit on the rug next to Maysilee, dutifully playing the role assigned to me and falsely deepening my voice to that of a man’s as I accept tea on behalf of the doll.

Maysilee giggles and then yawns. We play for a while longer until she curls up in my lap. I comb my fingers through her thick, wavy blonde hair and smile contentedly as she sucks her thumb, drifting off into sweet girlhood dreams. I should move her to the bed, yet she looks so content, I hate to wake her.

Only, this means that I am left in uncomfortable silence with Delly and no idea how to speak to her. She clears her throat and seems determined to initiate the task for me.

“I must thank you again, Katniss, and your family…for welcoming us so kindly.”

“You are Peeta’s sister now, that makes you family,” I say, keeping my eyes focused on Maysilee.

“Yes, well. Even family can become a complicated tangle sometimes, no matter how much one loves them.” For some reason, this makes me chuckle. I appreciate Delly’s candor. Somehow, she does not sound bitter about it, and I envy her that. When I lift my eyes to her, she is smiling, arranging the skirts on a doll as though she hasn’t a care in the world. For some reason, she reminds me of Effie and I realise I have been remiss in so many of my manners.

“And I must congratulate you on your nuptials. I do not believe I have had the chance and apologise for my tardy felicitations,” I say.

Delly’s smile wavers and she turns watery eyes to mine. “Thank you. Truly, Katniss. I worried that perhaps you might hate me and I could not bear the thought of it.”

“Why would you care if I hated you?” I ask before my mind can stop the question. I blame the comfort of Maysilee’s warm body asleep in my lap, the steady rhythm of her breathing and the soft pattering of the rain on the roof.

“We are now sisters in way…are we not? But primarily it is because Peeta loves you so.” Her answer surprises me. For a moment, my fingers halt their motions. Maysilee shifts and whimpers. I continue my attentions to her and Delly looks away, out the window towards the rain. “When he first spoke to me about the lady he had helped in the rain one day, I had such hope. It had been so long since I’d seen light such as that in his eyes. He will not…he will not speak to me of what happened while he was with the infantry and yet I know it eats away at him. He came home with a… a darkness in his soul that I did not know how to touch.”

“You know him so well then?”

“As you know the Countess,” Delly says with a quirk of her lips and an almost amused look. “He may be several years my elder, but we were friends since I could walk and he was in many ways my protector when we were children. I think our parents thought perhaps we might marry one day, but I had always thought of him as my brother. Even if I hadn’t, fate,” she sighs, a heavy sound at odds with her usually cheerful disposition “Well fate decided otherwise, and she does know far better than I, in this case especially.”

Such a pleasant way to describe what happened to them, and yet I am drawn into the tale yet again, much as I was when Peeta first told it.

“Anyways, when he asked me to replace your boots and he was so…particular with the whole thing, so troublesome in pestering me for details afterwards, even though I insisted that I never share the conversations of my customers. ‘Twould be a breach of their confidence to do so!”

I cannot help but smile at her indignation, at her conviction in maintaining the trust of those whose footwear she fashions.

“And what did you think of me after that meeting?”

“Oh, that you would be a perfect fit for Peeta. You were so strong, so very brave and yet kind. I could see in an instant why he was taken with you, but then so soon after, I saw him in Capitol. He said that Robert had begun courting you and…” she pauses and glances back out the window. I wish to scream at her to continue and yet she does not. I think then of what Peeta said, about how Robert had proposed to her several years ago, and she refused, afraid it would bring him down in the world and he would resent her for it. It strikes me then that this appears to be precisely what has happened.

Oh poor Delly, to have her heart slashed so.

I continue to caress Maysilee’s hair for courage and find my voice. “It must have been terribly upsetting for you. To think that Sir Robert’s affections had wandered.”

“Forgive me, Katniss, but that is not what led me to what I did. You must think me so fickle.”

“In truth, I am still attempting to discern what I think of you.”

“So very bluntly honest. Just as Robert said,” she appraises me with a smile and shakes her head. “I did not think Robert’s affections had wandered. He hardly spoke of you at all, only of facing what was expected of him, his duty to his family name. Marriage, family, the pride of the Marquis. No, it was not Robert’s words that drove me back to him but Peeta’s.”

“Peeta’s?” I ask, even more confused.

“You will think me terrible. Robert has always been fond of attentions and an incorrigible flirt,” she says this rather fondly while I think she should wish to strangle him for such behaviour. “There were always at least a dozen ladies hoping to be Mrs. Robert Mellark and while he could fall in and out of love with all of them on any given day, none of them showed any advancement or sign of success in securing him. He always returned to me, in letters most of the time, since we could so rarely be together. Until you.”

“He did not love me,” I say with a shake of my head.

“No, he did not, as it turns out. But Peeta did,” Delly says with conviction that almost frightens me. “He did and he still does.”

“That still does not explain why you eloped with Sir Robert,” I argue. “Perhaps you had them confused.”

“Oh no, I could always tell the difference, even before the scars. And of course it explains why. You must understand, Robert was the only one in that family to open their heart to Peeta when he needed someone the most. Ethan and Henry did eventually, but it took years to do so.” This much, I already know to be true, by Peeta’s own admission. “Peeta will forever be bound to love Robert for this. He will spend his life attempting to reciprocate in some fashion. As part of that, Peeta would never allow himself something he wanted – be it a toy, a sweet stolen from the kitchens, or the love and attentions of a certain person – if Robert wanted the same thing.”

I stare at her with wide eyes, understanding that Peeta’s loyalty to Robert would lead him to sacrifice a great deal. It then dawns on me precisely what sacrifice Delly refers to in this case, a chance at something – or rather someone. My cheeks burn with the realisation.

“Peeta wanted to be the one courting you. He wanted you… so very desperately, but Robert seemed to want the same thing.”

And so Peeta would not even take the chance, withdrawing to a position of observance, to protect his brother who falls in love too easily, to ensure that the fortune hunting lady Robert had chosen to pursue in earnest would not break his brother’s heart, even as our courtship, such as it was, broke Peeta’s. How very sad indeed.

“It was Peeta’s certainty that you and Robert would be married soon, Peeta’s refusal to even entertain the thought of courting you when he so clearly wished to, that convinced me I was about to lose Robert forever. That is what drove me back to Robert. I had to know if he seriously intended to marry you. I always regretted spurning his first proposal, even though I was right to do so, I…oh Katniss I am so sorry. I was terribly selfish in running away with him.”

“Well,” I say with my throat constricted and my head pounding. “Not entirely. You did save us both from a loveless marriage.”

She stares at me and then begins to laugh. It is quite a cheerful sound, and I find then that I am rather fond of Delly. There is much that needs fixing in this family, and that includes the sadness I still see lingering in her eyes, even as she laughs. If she truly loves Robert, rakish ways and all, then she deserves some form of happiness with him.

“Oh look!” Delly exclaims cheerfully. “The rain has finally stopped!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain only clears for an hour. Not even long enough for me to strengthen my fragile grasp on my doubts and pull them from the muddy quagmire my mind has become. It stops just long enough for Maysilee to wake and decide she wishes to play in the gardens. It stops just long enough for the post to arrive and nearly destroy what little gains I have made with Delly’s words, her belief in Peeta’s love for me. Someone else’s belief in our love is not enough. I need to believe it for myself, and I do not seem to have the talent for hoping and believing today.

There is no letter for me from Peeta. There is, however, a letter written in his hand addressed to Lady M. Charmaigne. My heart clenches as I deliver it into Madge’s palm. She smiles, bright and beautiful, and turns from me.

“Maysilee! Darling, Mister Peeta has answered your letter. Come and I will read it to you.”

The shock and relief register, sweeping through me so quickly that I’ve no chance to guard my expression. Of course. Maysilee asked to write to him and he has responded. This is no secret love letter to Madge.

“Katniss? Are you ill?” Madge asks.

“I…”

I cannot answer. It all overwhelms me, and I have spent so much effort fighting it, that I find I have none left. Madge asks Sae to take Maysilee to the parlour to read her letter instead, and I am left in the soggy gardens with my dear friend and a storm of feelings I cannot seem to sort. It is too much, building and building over days, weeks even with little to no release.

“I am so sorry. Madge, I…please forgive me. I cannot face him alone much longer, Madge. Something is…wrong with me,” I whisper between crazed gasps for air.

She takes my elbow and guides me to a bench in the garden. We sit and I am struck by the memory of just such a scene in Peeta’s sketchbook, rendered with beauty and care. Both of us, lovingly drawn.

“Who? Sir Robert?”

I nod and stare across the neatly tended flower beds, towards the cursedly empty lane. No riders. No Peeta.

“Why not?” Madge asks and there is a strange sort of anger in her voice.

“Because he…” I cannot even say it.

“Because he broke your engagement? Katniss can you really still mourn such a thing?”

“No. No, it isn’t that,” I say and turn to look at my friend. The blaze in her eyes frightens me.

“As it should not be. I know his elopement left you in a very awkward position for a time, and that your pride was hurt, perhaps even your heart to a small degree, but honestly Katniss. You have to let him go. Had Sir Robert not eloped with Delly, you would be married to him right now!”

I make a wretched noise of disgust and she laughs. Then I laugh and tears burst free, a torrent of them. I am no longer able to contain them. “And it would be a wretched marriage!” I moan through my tearful laughter.

“Completely wretched! You could never be happy with anyone so inconstant. And you would not have your Peeta then.”

Doubt flares back up and I eye my smiling friend for signs. Oh God above, why am I falling prey to such doubt? I know my husband and my friend better than that. Only that…he has deceived me before. The truth slices through me, swift and deadly as a sword.

“My Peeta,” I whisper and she nods, no sign of envy nor deceit in her cool blue eyes. Only the openness of my friend. And I can no longer contain it. “I am so confused right now. He said things…about you and Peeta and the strangeness of our family here…” I trail off and Madge shakes her head, brow creased in her own sort of confusion. “He said you would not linger here if there were not a reason… that you would find another husband post haste, and he does not know about what happened after your marriage yet implies the same sort of… arrangement. I know you would not betray me so and I shouldn’t even ask but–”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes widening in understanding and then narrowing. “What evidence could he possibly give for that?”

“He said you have the look of a woman in love.”

“And you believed him?”

“No,” I say and my convictions slowly begin to return to me. I do not know why, only that I draw from her expression the strength to voice my fears and begin to banish them. “No, I believe you have the look of a woman who is finally happy, and it does not require love.”

“I am happy, and it did require love, but not necessarily from a man.” Her words are shocking and calming and so welcome all at once. Everything I needed to hear and I regret not speaking to her sooner. “You know I have reasons for not pursuing another marriage, but that does not mean my life is without love. I love you, Katniss, as you love me. You are my dearest friend, and you have so generously and lovingly welcomed myself and Maysilee into your home and your life without expectation. I linger here because Everdeen has become our home, and all of you our family. Your family – Primrose and your parents – I have always loved along with you, and I confess that yes, I count Peeta now as part of my family as well.

“Your husband has been…extraordinary with Maysilee. I cannot deny that she sees him as a sort of father figure, but it does not follow that there would be an amorous relation between myself and him. The very idea is absurd! You know how he loves you. I would hope that you know how much I love you! Of course I look to be in love and happy. For I am happy here, and there are many people whom I love dearly. As do you…”

She tilts her head and examines me and I burst into more tears. Everything wells up out of me onto her shoulder as we sit in the garden in the late afternoon sunshine. I cry and pour out my heart. The love I feel for Peeta and our child whose existence inside me I grow more certain of with every day that passes. His sister and mother and his gradually chilling letters. Delly’s words and Sir Robert’s. My anger with myself for falling prey to such pernicious lies.

“Oh my darling friend,” Madge coos and holds onto me. “You are with child! No wonder you are so uneasy.”

“What?” I ask and break free of her embrace. She smiles at me, the expression wistful. “I thought pending motherhood was meant to be a happy condition!”

“In many ways it is, but the fears are real too. I felt it too, with Maysilee. All the fear and the doubt about the future, my ability to love her when I felt no love for her father, not even affection. I barely tolerated him. The terror that I would be a wretched mother. How could I possibly protect her from the worst of the world? And the fear of what our future held for us, it felt… It felt…”

“As old and as immutable as time,” I whisper and she nods.

“Yes. Exactly.” Our eyes meet and she sniffles a little. “I should be angry that you would even entertain the idea of my betraying you so. Or the idea that Peeta could betray you so, but I understand it is not he nor I nor even yourself causing such doubt, but Sir Robert. His presence and your history with him has naturally caused much discord. Even your father seems ill at ease lately. But you know me, and you do know Peeta as well. You must silence the doubt. Only one day more. Then Peeta will be home, and I know you will see in his eyes exactly what you need to see.”

I clasp her hand in mine and squeeze. She leans her head on my shoulder and I sigh happily. It is good to know my friend is exactly as I believed her to be. Quiet, kind, and brave, with a strength to rival any fortress.

“Thank you, Madge.”

“You must come to me sooner with these fears, so they do not torment you so, especially now that you are to be a mother.” I nod in agreement. We sit in silence then. We could continue like this for an age, until Sir Robert wanders into the garden.

“Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but your charming daughter calls for you, my Lady Hargrove.” He sweeps a bow and smiles at us. I stiffen, but Madge squeezes my arm as she stands. She turns to me and gives me a true smile.

“You know what is real, in your heart. Silence the rest,” she says and I nod. Her eyes flash with a bright sort of fire and I draw more strength from her. The strength to stand as she departs and to face Sir Robert.

“Well this is pleasant. Such a charming garden, a lovely lady for company.” My heart hammers in its duplicitous dance and I am quite tired of my body treating me thus.

I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to control it. This is not my husband. Why my body insists on responding like it is, I do not know. He has stolen the face of my love and plants doubts in my head where they do not belong. I laugh inside at the thought and Maysilee’s indignant tone when she voiced it a few days ago.

“I am glad to see you enjoying yourself today, Mrs. Mellark. We have all been rather concerned for you. My wife seems to think our presence has caused you some distress.”

With my eyes shut, his voice sharpens in my mind, the inflections wrong. An unfamiliar scent reaches me. Wrong. Wrong. All wrong, my mind and my heart protest, just as Maysilee did, and finally, my body listens.

When I open my eyes, I am able to smile at him, although my face feels strained in doing so.

He stands with feet braced apart in a confident pose, a tentative smile on his lips. Good. He should be wary of me.

“I cannot imagine what would give her such an idea,” I say but the sarcasm of my tone seems lost on Sir Robert.

“Has my brother had opportunity to enjoy your lovely gardens? He was rather fond of the gardens at de Vale, always running off to them when Mother took to scolding one of us.”

“Thank you, Sir Robert,” I say and clench my hands together. “Indeed he has had opportunity to enjoy it, and even to sketch some of it. We were married in the summer, you know.”

“Ah so he still insists on his scribbles.”

“They are much appreciated around here, and I would hardly call them scribbles,” I scold and Sir Robert cringes.

“Of course. I know he is quite talented. I was merely thinking of the many times he was taken to task for drawing instead of focusing on his Latin conjugations.” I’ve no answer and stand still as Sir Robert fidgets. “It is good to be out of the house for a time, after all the rain the past day. Would you care to join me in a stroll through your gardens?”

I do not want to spend any amount of time alone with this confusing, infuriating man. I’d rather stomp on his toes and spit in his tea. How uncharitable of me.

“Very well,” I say instead and begin walking. For Peeta’s sake, and perhaps even a little for Delly’s, I will be polite to this wretch.

“This statue is quite unique. It reminds me of one I saw in Northwest Panem.”

“That is where my mother is from,” I inform him. “She brought the statue with her when she married my father.”

“Such an expense, dragging a ponderous statue that distance,” Sir Robert grumbles and I laugh with no humor.

“My father loves her, always has. He would have dragged a dozen statues from Northwest Panem, if she wished it. Thankfully, this was the only one she desired.”

“Oh the things one will do for love,” Sir Robert scoffs. I ignore his complaint and continue, recalling a bit of something Delly said just yesterday at tea.

“When did you have occasion to be in Northwest Panem? Is that where you and Delly honeymooned?”

“Yes,” he answers, his smile strained now. “Although exiled might be a better term for it,” Sir Robert mutters then offers me his arm and motions towards a corner leading into the hedgerows. “Shall we?”

I leave his arm waiting and take the turn unassisted. My slippers crunch on the gravel walk. Sir Robert’s boots right behind. He takes longer strides than I and soon walks beside me, arms folded behind his back. I do not look at him as I continue to walk.

“In all the business of the festival, I’ve not had the chance to ask you… Where then has my brother run off to? You did not exile him, did you?”

“He has run nowhere, nor have I exiled him. He is greatly missed, but his leaving is understood. Peeta answered a plea for help. A friend from the infantry recently and most unexpectedly came into lands in need of some attention.”

Sir Robert makes a strange noise at this. “He runs off to help some grumpy soldier for two weeks when he could be here with you and the lovely Countess?” His comments annoy me, given the implication once again that there is something between Madge and my husband. I control the rage and answer with shocking calm.

“His willingness to help a friend is quite noble, and how would you know his friend’s disposition? I did not even tell you the name of the man.”

“Yes, well. I’ve met enough of them to know they are all grumpy and far too serious, including my brother at times. He was much more pleasant before his time away. Although, he always was insufferably noble, at least he used to be fun when pressed to be so,” Sir Robert says.

His words only stoke my rage. Used to be fun? How could he say such a thing? Has he any idea of what Peeta’s “time away” entailed? Such a spoiled attitude, acting as though Peeta went away on holiday instead of being banished by their father to the infantry for the temerity of existing. Such arrogance to think Peeta did not endure his service, sweating and bleeding and dying in many ways, so far away from any place he’d once called home. And despite the fact that I once called Peeta that exact same thing — insufferably noble — I halt and whirl to face Sir Robert.

“You make it sound like a flaw in his character. To be noble.”

“Not at all. What is, perhaps, the true flaw in his character is leaving such an exquisite bride behind so soon after the wedding and neglecting her in such a shocking manner. Were I your husband–”

“Were you my husband,” I say with an inordinate amount of rancor. His face pales and his eyes widen as he realizes what he has done.

“I misspeak.”

“Indeed you do,” I say, anger and some awful sadness mixing inside me as I stare at this man, his face identical to and yet so different from the one I most wish to see. “For you are not my husband.”

And I am, as I told Madge, exceptionally relieved by the fact.

“Come now, you were honest with me that day in the garden. You cannot pretend to a broken heart. You made it quite clear that love was never your quest.”

“Which garden do you speak of, sir?”

“Which garden…” His face shows confusion and he shakes his head, yet his teasing smile remains in place. “The one…at your Uncle’s townhome…when I proposed?”

It is awkward enough for him to be saying it outright, yet I remain silent, waiting for a realisation. A hint of something that never comes. His smile falters. His feet shift. A goose honks overhead. The earth moves forward a small degree.

“Have you already forgotten my proposing? If so, then I truly have reached a low, although it would not be surprising.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, removing his hat in the process, and the movement is another sharp pang to my heart. Peeta does the same thing when agitated.

One more day, I remind myself. It is only one more day. A trifle. Nothing. Peeta will be back in a blink and I will regret these maudlin thoughts. Especially once I tell him the secrets I carry now in my heart and in my womb, a secret promise for a happy future for us to share.

“I remember you proposing marriage, and I further remember the shame of it when I learned from your father and Peeta that you had eloped with someone else with no word to me at all.”

“I do apologize for that. Surely you must understand. I could not pause to post a letter. How should I explain that to my Delly? Sorry, darling! Just need to stop here to inform the woman I proposed marriage to this morning that the wedding is off! Such confusion.”

He attempts a smile. A joke then. I am a joke to him. I stare at him until he coughs, finally grows uncomfortable with his words and the implications. He purses his lips and glances at the ground. I use the silence to continue walking. The fresh air is welcome, invigorating even. I piece my resolve back together one step at a time. Sir Robert follows but we remain silent for a time.

“He speaks highly of you. In his letters.”

“He would not insult me, even were he miserable with me,” I say and Sir Robert sighs.

“Indeed that is my great fear. That he would be miserable and suffer in silence. It would not be the first time he did so. But at least admit that the outcome is better for most of us involved,” he says. There’s a thread of concern, almost desperation in his voice, as though he is not sure of it himself and needs me to do the reassuring for him. It makes me wonder if Sir Robert now regrets his actions, or merely the consequences of them. I stand still as stone until he shuffles his feet to a halt beside me. I cannot repair whatever damage he has done to his own and to Delly’s life, but I can take him to task for what he did to me.

“Yes, humiliation and forced betrothal are precisely the outcome I wished.”

“It could not have been so awful. You act as insufferably noble as he. Clearly you and he are well suited and you must forgive me.”

“Why must I?”

“Because despite what you may think of me, I do care a great deal for my brother’s happiness, and it is clear he has lucked into a comfortable and secure life here with you. And I cannot stand the thought of anyone thinking so ill of me.”

“I would not dare to think ill of you. Peeta loves you, and so as you imply, there must be something redeeming in your character.”

“There, see!” Robert says triumphantly.

“And yet you insist on implying that he is ignoble and would perhaps develop feelings for my dearest friend…perhaps even act on them?”

“Yes, about that. I did warn you my thoughts were a touch rude. Her behaviour and that of her daughter struck me as odd. It seemed a perfect situation for such a thing, perfectly reasonable given the lack of blood connection. Surely you–”

“I surely do not. Do you suggest family ties must be bound in blood to be real? If you believe that, then you surely know very little of your own beloved brother’s life before you entered it. I know Madge better than you could ever hope to, and I begin to believe that I know Peeta better than you could hope to. You claim to wish to protect him? Then cease suggesting he might betray his own character and break his promises to me, with my dearest friend nonetheless.”

Sir Robert stares at me as the fury flows out of me with the words, replaced with relief. Relief to be saying these things and in fact…believing them. I draw myself down to a less aggressive, more ladylike stance, once more folding my hands together and continuing to walk. Silence reigns for a time, a most welcome quiet, only the sounds of our footsteps.

“You are quite right, madame. I have…acted most abominably,” he finally admits.

“Indeed you have,” I agree and he sighs.

“Then we are in agreement of sorts? You will forgive me for my erroneous thoughts?”

“Why should I?” I should absolve him, for Peeta’s sake. Yet even as I think it, we pass a stone bench and my memory conjures the sweet scents of blossoms in the spring night. So many memories I have tucked away for fear of what they mean, now hazy and obscured by time. There is one more thing yet unresolved between us, though I fear the resolution of this mystery.

A scattered few drops of rain strike the ground. I hold up a hand to catch several as Sir Robert makes a noise of protest. He grasps my elbow and we hurry through the rest of the garden, seeking refuge from the rain beneath the roof of the verandah just as the sky opens, pouring its contents on the world.

“More rain will make the roads impassable,” I mutter.

“Indeed. Mrs. Mellark, I do apologise for my behaviour. It seems I am in need of another of my brother’s lectures. He was rather fond of preaching when we were younger. It’s a wonder he didn’t take the cloth as a profession. I will beg him to spare you at least. Such lovely ears should not be tortured so,” Sir Robert says with that smile that no doubt melts all the knees in Capitol, and yet I find it no longer affects me. How odd. It is then that I notice…his lips pull up evenly when he smiles. Not lopsided.

Another memory leaps into focus, unbidden and unwanted. A blonde head tilted towards me. Blue eyes bright with mirth. An asymmetrical mask covering…the left side of a face. Yes I am certain it was the left side. A peculiar design for a mask that I had thought was meant to match my dress at the time, but now I wonder if there was another reason and plumb my memories further…

A pair of red stained lips curling in a lopsided smile.

Peeta’s smile is lopsided… is it not? Have I imposed his now beloved smile upon the face of the man in the mask in a fit of wishful thinking? How sad that I cannot recall for certain in this moment. He’s been gone far too long for my liking. I cannot seem to distinguish memory from fantasy and push them both aside rather than sort them. Instead I shall deal with what is in front of me.

I shrug to show my indifference to Sir Robert’s charms. In truth, his flattery does warm the heart, but it is fleeting and meaningless without the constancy of devotion behind it. The steadiness that Peeta brings to everything in many ways is what lends credence to all of his flowery praise of me.

“Why have you come here, Sir Robert? To Everdeen?”

“I wished to visit my brother. I’ve not seen him in months. Have I any other need?”

“As long as that is your sole reason,” I say as we continue to stand, observing the rain rather than retreating once more to the confines of the house.

I watch the gardner hurry up the path, a basket overflowing with blooms, covered with a cloth on her arm. She curtsies and hurries inside, the scent of the flowers trailing on the air behind her and an image, vivid and sweet returns to me.

The cloak of night and soft lips on my scars. Merciful heaven. Guilt such as I have never known surges up inside me, hand in hand with latent desires. It should not matter. Peeta and I… we are happy, I believe, or at least on the path to happiness. We have begun to build something together, grown together in a way I had scarcely dared hope for when I set out to secure a marriage. I do not wish to jeopardize it and yet I feel an unquenchable need to know for certain.

The man in the mask…such a plague to me all those months ago. I have rarely thought of him lately. In my mind I had divided them into three men to better deal with the confusion and heartache. There is Peeta, now my husband and my love, a man I trust and rely upon, the father to my unborn child. There is Sir Robert…a man to whom I was briefly engaged, although I knew so little of him, and now realise ‘twould have been disastrous for me to wed.

And third there is the man in the mask, someone I felt enamored with for a night or perhaps longer, who I think represented to me the hope that I might not have to endure a marriage without affection, without trust, without…love, though I only sought one of those at the time. The man in the mask represented perhaps some sort of fantasy, an illusion that I might still have all three. And I have achieved that dream against such terrible odds. I should let him go, as I long ago let Sir Robert go, and yet…I cannot.

The problem lies in the fact that these three men do not exist well in my mind at the same time, although I know that two of them must be one and the same. If it was Sir Robert in the mask, he romanced me most shamefully for a man on the cusp of an elopement with another. Used me most shamefully, but ‘twould make it easier to let the man in the mask go. All of it would then have been a lie, an act, and none of it real.

And if it was Peeta? I do not know. I admit that while it would be easier to relinquish the man in the mask were it Robert instead, I nearly hope it was Peeta, because I cannot bear the thought that he may have lied to me about it after we were engaged, because those feelings that sprung to life inside of me that night with the man in the mask… I feel so many of them now with Peeta.

It feels almost a betrayal of him to have felt so for another man, and yet…at the time I believed it to be Robert and would that not be a betrayal of Peeta as well? How could I betray him when there was nothing between Peeta and I at the time of the masquerade, nothing at all save a pair of boots, a questionable rescue or two, and some peppered tea. And what of the betrayal of my heart that occurred that night?

For there to be betrayal, there would need be trust first.

It is such a muddled puzzle in my head, and I begin to feel a headache forming. This is why my brain conjured the three man solution. Think of them separately and I need not consider the implications of that night. For even if my hopes are realised and it turns out that it was Peeta in the mask… why then would he have kissed me, and with such intimacy and passion? Surely he could have shared a glass of wine with me, chatted about the portraits, and then been on his way. That would have been distraction enough from Sir Robert’s absence, and I would have remained unaware of the elopement, unable to raise a cry of suspicion until the following morn or perhaps even later. Why take the added step of kissing me?

Delly’s words rise up as an explanation and yet my mind is as hazy as the rain soaked world before me right now. I cannot see to the end of the garden and I do not know. I do not know and I hate that this now arises to make me doubt my feelings for my husband when I have only so recently dealt with a different source of doubt.

“Mrs. Mellark,” Sir Robert intrudes upon my reverie. “Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness. Peeta would not wish any sort of conflict between us as we are both important to him.”

“You wish forgiveness?”

“Of course. My brother is…well he is the perfect brother to me. Perhaps you do not understand. As an eldest sibling, you would be the example for your sister. I, as the youngest, inevitably have the successes of the older shoved in my face. With Peeta, however, there was always… Well it was different with him. Father would never have used him as an example for me to follow, even though he is older. The expectations placed on me, on all of us save for Peeta, could often feel suffocating. And our older brothers, Ethan and Henry they expected as much out of me as Father did. But Peeta, he was not just my brother, he was… he is my friend. One of the few I can truly trust and be myself around without fearing recrimination, save for the occasional insufferably noble reminder that I know is right, even if it annoys me to hear it. I tease him for his righteous attitude, but he still cares for me and attempts to protect me, even from myself, no matter how many times I disappoint him.”

I can only stand in silence for a time.

“Do you understand what I mean?” he prompts.

“I do.” And I believe that I do understand. Such a sad life they must have led surrounded by all the comforts and education that money could buy and none of the affections of a real family until they found one another. How sad that it was only with great loss for Peeta that were able to do so. And now Sir Robert seeks absolution from me before his brother returns and finds himself once more disappointed.

“A relief,” Sir Robert says with a smile.

As I gaze up at him, I cannot help but catalogue the differences not just in their characters, but in their features. Beside the most noticeable – Peeta’s scars – I am certain Sir Robert’s jaw line is rounder, softer. His eyes, while usually full of mirth, carry little depth and no capacity for intensity. His hair borders on foppish. Peeta’s nose is dusted with freckles that speak of his time out of doors while Robert’s remains clear of markings. Peeta’s hands are calloused and scarred from labour and a rougher life while Robert’s remain apparently smooth and pampered.

Perhaps I imagine it yet I am almost certain Peeta’s shoulders carry more breadth and strength in them, and while my observations might be superficial, they only add to my growing belief that while the outcome was initially messy and uncomfortable for all involved, Sir Robert has done me a great favor in eloping with Delly. I cannot, however, bring myself to sever the bonds between brothers, nor even cause deliberate tension, not when I know how important they are to one another, despite the wrongs Sir Robert may have visited upon me.

“I wish my brother happy in life, and you as well. So please, I beseech you. What need I do to earn your forgiveness for my callous behavior in abandoning you so that another more worthy might wed you instead?”

I scowl at the man. Even though his words are accurate in a way, as well as a backwards sort of compliment, I would not recommend his behaviour, nor praise it. But as he gives me an earnest, pleading look to rival Maysilee’s, an idea comes to me.

“You will take better care of your wife. I rather like her.”

“Indeed. I should do that anyways.”

“And…tell me what is your favourite colour.”

“My favourite–” he chuckles and his smile extends to his eyes now. “What a Peeta sort of question to ask, but if you must know, it is red. My favourite colour in all the world is red. Do I earn your forgiveness now?”

“I will consider it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awaken to thunder. A great crack of it causing my pulse to leap and my body to do the same. I sit up, momentarily stunned as I stare out my window. Buckets upon buckets of rain pour from a churning autumnal sky. It lashes the upper panes on my windows and invades the room through the open lower half. The wind howls, twisting the wet drapes in a frightening dance. Lightning rends the sky in brilliant scars of light that turn the night into day, the sky to a voft violet for a second right before another great crack of thunder hurls me from the bed and into action.

I slam the window shut and cry in distress as my skin responds to the frigid rain on the floor beneath my feet. My feet slide over floorboards and I frantically move to stand on the rug, teeth chattering at the cold, rain soaked fabric of my shift now clinging to my calves. The chill permeates my body. I shiver, hugging myself and then resting my head on the sash.

Another bolt of lighting illuminates the gardens below, the river of water rushing along the paths. The accompanying crack of thunder shakes the house.

Travel home today will be difficult. Unsafe. Perhaps even impossible. Peeta may not be able to keep his promise to me.

With a sigh, I move to the fireplace and add a log, stoking the blaze in the grate back to something that might warm my now cold frame and dry my shift. I curl up on the sofa and listen to the rain. I do not bother mopping up the mess. It is my own fault, my fanciful whims getting the better of me. Peeta prefers to sleep with the window open, and so I have chosen to continue to do so in his absence.

The storm rages outside as I stare into the fire and my eyes droop. I am so very tired.

When I wake, it is with a start and confusion. A warm blanket covers me and fresh kindling is piled beside the grate. A tea service sits on a nearby table, a curl of steam drifting up into the air from the spout. The sky outside has lightened considerably, indicating that it is morning. I struggle to stand and throw the window open, gasping at the cold bite of air that sweeps in and embraces me. The honking of geese overhead reaches me as I squint into the bright sunlight, my eyes relaxing as great, puffy white clouds race across the azure sky, momentarily blocking out the light and what little heat the sun provides. Rainwater drips from the eaves of the house and puddles in the garden below. If I hold my breath, I can hear the faint rushing of the stream in the neighboring woods.

Peeta is meant to be home today.

My heart skips at the thought. I linger over the tea. I dress and then change my mind, discarding one gown for another with an urgency that disturbs me. When I finally leave my chambers, it is well past the hour of breakfast. Everyone else in the house seems to have eaten and moved on to whatever amusements they might find in the now pleasant weather. I eat then wrap myself in a warm coat and sit on the verandah, attempt to read and fail.

Finally, I wander into the study, ringing for tea and warming my hands by the fire as I wait. I mull over everything said to me the past few days and despite the mounting evidence, I still doubt. Doubt and doubt and doubt until the tea is brought and Mary retreats and the fire pops loudly.

A memory sparks to life in the blaze. A letter. One I never read and thought to burn.

I scramble to the desk and search the drawers, casting aside bits of wax and broken quills, scraps of paper until I find it, all the way in the back of the drawer, forgotten for months. The letter Peeta gave to me the day after we were betrothed. I sink into the chair with it shaking in my hands, the weight of it pushing me deep into the cushions. It is thick, several sheets at least. I breathe heavily and rip open the seal. The top sheet slides askew as I unfold the thing and I catch sight of the corner of a drawing.

For one moment, I am immobilised. Frozen in my seat and then I separate the top sheet with Peeta’s writing on it and set it aside to stare at the drawing. Only it is not one drawing, but rather several crammed onto the sheet. Three pages of them. A mad, disorganised ejection of images from his mind, as though he feared that if he did not commit them to charcoal and paper as soon as possible, he might forget them. I know it is his work, as I would recognise his touch anywhere. And they are almost entirely of me, wearing a mask and a gown with one bare shoulder. Gazing at portraits, laughing, staring up at the artist with a teasing gleam in my eyes, weilding a fan, comforting the girl with red hair and red lips.

He has drawn the entire evening I spent with the man in the mask in exquisite detail. It is difficult to ignore this last piece of proof. A lightness burgeons upwards in my chest, threatening to choke me with something like tears and hope.

The mask, I realise. The truth is in the mask. I grab the first sheet as well and race upstairs, leaving my tea on the desk to cool as I search my room until I pull the mask I wore that fateful night free of its confines and set it on the table, next to the drawings.

“Oh!” I gasp and sink into the sofa.

Perfect.

He has rendered the mask in perfect detail, the intricate designs painted on the plaster, the whorls of color, the shading about the eyes, the curvature over my forehead, the fall of the feathers and the cowl over my shoulder. The minute details are too faithful, too accurate, to have been relayed by word of mouth. Whoever drew this… he saw me wearing this very mask. He saw me wearing it, and I have only ever worn it the one night before hiding it away and leaving it locked out of sight.

That is when I am finally able to accept it, to know without a doubt in my heart, my soul, and my mind… Peeta is my man in the mask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued…. Chapter 22 will be posted to @everlarkficexchange

Your clue for chapter 21: Remember that it is a word you seek, a single word. The others might only lead you away from the answer. What was Peeta meant to provide the night of the masquerade?

#Springtime Edition 2019 #prompt 88 #M #late submission #submission

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superkitty21 · 5 years ago

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So, The Rise of Skywalker was a thing

I laughed, I cried, I sighed in disappointment, but somehow, despite everything, I liked it. (Major fucking spoilers for the whole movie btw)

Okay, I don't know where to start so I'm gonna talk about the Palpatine thing. This film feels like the writers went in and tried to "fix" alleged plot holes in the previous films. As someone who loved TLJ, Rey being no one special was something I found engaging about that film. The Star Wars franchise is really obsessed with legacy and blood and heritage (especially that of your male line) and Rey being nobody was a refreshing break from having to justify your character as a protagonist by proving them to be the special. I'm really annoyed that Rey couldn't just be Rey she HAD to be someone special, the granddaughter of someone IMPORTANT to 'explain' her talent and skill with the force and to justify her role as protagonist of this franchise.

On top of this, revealing Palpatine to be the master manipulator of this whole conflict felt so cheap to me. TLJ completely shifted the status quo and took the Star Wars franchise to places we haven't seen before. So returning to the plot line of "we must defeat the evil Sith" betrays the ending of TLJ. I was excited to see where this franchise was going next after the explosive ending of TLJ and finding out that we were just going to rehash plot beats from 40 years ago was more than a little disappointing.

The sequel trilogy has been a balancing act between pulling on our nostalgia strings and telling a new story and The Rise of Skywalker, in returning to Palpatine as the villain and making Rey his granddaughter, tipped the scales of this trilogy to boring rehash and it all feels like such wasted potential.

The romantic subplots in this one were... messy (to say the least). It felt very clear to me that the writers didn't know where they were going with Finn's romantic arc at all throughout this series. I'd like to start by saying RIP to Finn/Rose shippers because the writers utterly dismissed Finn and Rose's ENTIRE relationship. It's not even acknowledged that these two even know each other outside of the context of co-workers. The complete sidelining of Rose in this story is almost shameful. I can only assume this was done in response to the massive harassment campaigns targeted at Kelly Marie Tran post-TLJ. Not only was caving to the racist trolls and removing Rose from the story disrespectful to Rose's character, but it also made Finn's romantic arc so incohesive. They brought back the Finnrey dynamic from The Force Awakens, but then never developed on Finn and Rey's relationship in any meaningful way. It seemed as if they were going to make the stormtrooper defector, Jannah, a love interest but then never really went there either (thank god). It was messy and unfocused and I had no idea where they were going with any of it, and it turns out they didn't either.

They also decided to give Poe a love interest. out of nowhere. in the last film of this trilogy. Pour one out for Stormpilot shippers because that ship sank harder than the titanic. In trying to fully assert Poe Dameron's heterosexuality they felt the need to add a completely irrelevant and frankly out of place romantic subplot for Poe. Did doing this add to the story in any way? No. Did it add anything to Poe's characterization? No. So I have to assume its there to make sure everyone in the audience knows that Finn and Poe could never, in any way, shape, or form, under any context, ever, EVER be in a romantic relationship despite their obvious chemistry. Legit, the scenes with Poe and Zorii in Kijimi felt like an ad for a Poe Dameron tie-in prequel novel.

Kylo's redemption arc isn't the best I've seen. I'm generally not one for redemption arcs being motivated by external factors (ie your mother dying) rather than an internal realization and growth. There is an argument to be made that Kylo has been explicitly shown in struggling with the light the whole trilogy, but I still would have liked more lead up to his eventual switch and for the choice to be more his own rather than compelled by his mother's death and his girlfriend giving him puppy dog eyes.

Absolution through sacrifice is also a big pet peeve of mine, but somehow it worked for me in this one. It's probably because Ren's redemption is really isolated to his relationship to his family and Rey. Given that his most egregious actions were to his immediate family I wouldn't could it as a flaw in the film and it certainly made it easier to buy in to arc. And I never got the feeling that TROS never fully absolved Kylo of his crimes against the galaxy. Similarly to how despite his final sacrifice, Darth Vader is still seen as evil by the wider galaxy, I get the sense that Kylo Ren despite his heel turn will be in a similar position. I won't begrudge anyone who thinks his shift to the light feels to sudden, or that his motivations felt a bit weak, or those who generally just can't buy it, but it worked or me. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Now's probably a good time to mention that I'm a massive fucking Reylo and ate every scene of Kylo and Rey up like it was candy. I get why some people don't like this ship and I think if you're not on board with these two by the end of the film the ending to Ren's story won't be very satisfying. Given that I already loved these two's relationship that Ren's ultimate sacrifice got me straight in the feels and that contributed to my ultimate satisfaction with the film.

Okay, That's everything I wanted to be analytical about. Now here are just some random, unrendered thoughts.

*I absolutely adored the main trio in this movie. Their dynamic was fun and they all clicked so well together and made me what a whole nother trilogy about these three precious beans. Imma be reading a LOT of jedistormpilot fics after this because that unit was fantastic.

*I'm a bit peeved that they fake out 'killed' C-3PO cause his final goodbye was actually really touching. Bringing him back undercut what I thought was a really touching farewell.

*I don't think I've gushed enough about how much I adored all of the force bond stuff that happened in this movie because that shit was beautiful. I could not get enough of the Reylo force battles. Their final scene was *chef''s kiss* and I'll be rewatching it as much as I do the praetorian guard fight.

*Shout out to this film for remembering force sensitive Finn was a thing. I respect that.

*RIP Hux. I know I'm one of the 7 people who actually care, but I'm upset that he was given such a minor role and killed off by nameless first order general guy. Like he couldn't have even be killed by Kylo. smh

*The new droid was super cute. 10/10. Would buy a lifesize plush of that guy.

*This movie made me imagine Sheev Palpatine impregnating someone and I can never forgive it for that.

*The Knights of Ren were so unintentionally comedic to me. I genuinely burst out laughing every time I saw them because they were these back goons with these silly weapons that did basically nothing. I feel bad for anyone who was hyped to see them cause they were so inconsequential. The porgs in TLJ had more characterization than they did. One of the best moments in this whole movie was when a random stormtrooper that saw them and simply said "squad goals". I almost fucking died. That stormtrooper and Cait Salt-Licker are absolute legends.

*This may be the least visually interesting movies in the sequel trilogy. Don't get me wrong there is some gorgeous cinematography and shot composition in this movie. Every single scene with Palpatine was amazing and gave me chills, but it did feel like there were less jaw dropping stunning scenes in this one compared to The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi. No one moment really sticks out to me as much as say, the Holdo maneuver did in TLJ or the forest lightsaber fight in TFA.

I don't think this movie will be well loved by many people. People who've hated the sequels thus far may be won over by the return of Palpatine, but I don't think it's enough to win over the detractors. I think people who genuinely liked the direction these films seemed to be taking after The Last Jedi will be disappointed in how this one plays out. There was a lot to love about The Rise of Skywalker, but there was also a lot of missed potential.

#The Rise of Skywalker #Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker #tros spoilers #spoilers #Star Wars

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raging-violets · 5 years ago

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1-10 for Cade!!

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

Cadence is an only child. Can’t you tell by how spoiled she is? Lol. But, if we’re speaking technically, and with different Earths. (minor spoilers if someone hasn’t read this far), Jesse Wells from Earth-2 is her sister. Tess Morgan and Harrison Wells are Cade’s birth parents who gave her up for adoption to their best friends. When Tess and Harrison were attacked by Eobard, Tess was pregnant with Earth-1′s Jesse, but the baby died in the attack. On Earth-2, Cadence/Burnout and Jesse are estranged sisters, but Jesse sees Cadence more as her real sister so they get along very well.

2.What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

Cadence’s relationship with her mother, Maya, is weird. Her mother is a socialite in every form and of the word and dragged Cadence into it since she was a baby, showing her off like a little dress up doll, bribing her with things if she “acted nicely”. Cadence figured out quickly that if she were to play the part of the ‘perfect daughter’ she could get whatever she wanted, hence being spoiled. (Though her father definitely spoiled her as well). So, growing up, they weren’t too close, though they do love each other. After Cadence became pregnant, Maya was the one who was hesitant to kick Cadence out, but sided with her husband, though worried about her daughter and grandson every day. When she’s an adult, Cadence holds her mom at an arm’s length away and treats her as an annoyance, though their relationship does improve as Maya leans more about Cadence’s life in Central City and about Cadence as a person. Better late than never.

3. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

Oh ho ho, was Cadence ever a daddy’s girl. She could bat her eyelashes at her father, Kent, and he’d dote on her at every second and at every turn, often being the one to take on his wife’s wrath if he allowed Cadence to miss events or talk her out of trouble. For her father, Cadence had no problem being the ‘perfect daughter’ until that illusion was shattered when she became pregnant. Kent reacted horribly and kicked her out, not wanting her to embarrass him or his image. When Cadence is an adult, he apologizes for what happens in a means to make amends before his death, and Cadence quickly and easily forgives him, still being the daddy’s girl she couldn’t quite get over. They had a very close and loving relationship with him giving her advice every time she needed it.

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

There are two answers to this, well, there’s three but I can’t say the third because it’s a major spoiler to her character that I haven’t revealed in Burn yet. (But if you really want to know, just message me). The first is, I guess this is kind of cheating, but her parents kicking her out. She saw it as a sort of out of body experience, watching it happen to her rather than experiencing it. Seeing her parents look at her and speak to her so ugly broke her heart and made her put up a large wall between herself and them, which hurt all sides even more as Brady was in the middle and she took him away from them. (This is also intertwined with watching Ryder’s parents send him away from her after they found out they were going to have a baby). The second is watching a man die after she accidentally set him on fire while trying to defend herself and Brady from a homeless man trying to take their space/stuff. People know of the first incident, no one knows of the second. She was only 16 and that was the first man she killed.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Her cell phone, a tube of lipstick, and some gum. Everything else is in her purse.

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

She doesn’t remember her dreams very much, but a lot of them was the recurring theme of protecting people in her dreams, long before she became a hero. Though, for some of her weirder dreams, she does have a recurring dream of falling from a great height.

7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Being chased by something she can’t see, running so much, so hard, and so fast, but never getting away.

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

Yep. She learned how to fire a gun with her training at the CCPD, but it’s also part of her main weapons for her part as Flare so she progressed quickly. Her first target was a practice target that she taped a picture of her ex-boyfriend’s, Ryder’s, parents to. She hates his parents.

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

Yes and No. Growing up, she was filthy stinking rich. Had no problems or worries with money at all. Could rivals the Queens with the money they had. Then, when being kicked out, she was poor and living on the streets. Slowly but surely, she brought herself back to be able to live comfortably with her son, then received money from her father’s death, was given access abck to her funds when she made up with her mom, has money coming to her from Harrison and Tess, and is now going to be even wealthier due to marrying Barry, with what was left from his parents, the settlement from the city, and stocks in STAR Labs. A lot of the money she has now, she worked hard to receive herself.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

Less clothing. She gets too hot when she wears too many layers, due to her powers. Plus, she actually really likes her body (minus the stretch marks from childbirth).

#answered ask #ask #oc talk #fic talk #oc: cadence nash #series: the flash and the flame #loved these questions for her #riley responds #redemption riley #witchofinterest

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three-houses-text-files · 5 years ago

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dimitri/gilbert

c-a support + paired ending

*warning: minor character/major story spoilers

Dimitri: Here you are, Gilbert. Have you finished your prayers? Gilbert: Ah! Your Highness! I... This... D: Ah, but you and I are the only ones present, so I suppose I should not call you Gilbert. D: Gustave... It's been a while, hasn't it? Around three years, I believe? (pre-skip) D: Gustave... It has been eight years since I last called you by that name. (post-skip) G: Your Highness. I must deeply apologize for leaving the Kingdom without permission. I was... D: There is no need to explain, old friend. I can guess at your reasons... The Tragedy of Duscur. D: You felt responsible for that incident, and sought respite in the goddess, abandoning your name, rank, and homeland in repentance. Am I right? G: I have no excuses to offer. This... It was all I could think to do. D: I always knew you for a pious man. And I figured that if you were to leave, this is where you would end up. D: You have changed much. Your face does not have the same resolve it once did. G: If I may, Your Highness... You have changed as well. D: I can't disagree. G: It was my duty to protect His Majesty. Your father. Naturally, that also included Lady Patricia and yourself as well. (pre-skip) G: It was my duty to protect His Majesty. Your father. Naturally, that included yourself as well. (post-skip) D: My father and mother are gone. No amount of regret will bring them back. (pre-skip) D: No amount of regret can bring the dead back to us. (post-skip) G: My dreams are haunted by the thought that, had I arrived at Duscur more swiftly... D: You saved my life at Duscur. I have only gratitude for you, no blame to speak of. D: Return to the Kingdom, Gustave. D: I wish for you to remain in the Kingdom, Gustave. Even after this conflict is over. D: I need your strength to help rebuild the rotten husk that Faerghus has become. (pre-skip) D: I need your strength to help rebuild the ravaged land that Faerghus has become. (post-skip) G: Please. I beg your forgiveness, but there is no place left for me in that land. D: I see. Though much has changed, your stubbornness remains. D: I have no desire to trouble you. If you do not wish to return, that is your choice to make. D: But I do advise you to at least visit the place of your birth. If only for your family's sake. G: Yes, Your Highness. Thank you. I appreciate your concern.

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G: Your Highness. It falls to me once more to instruct you in the ways of battle. G: It does not befit a leader to fight on the front lines. I would ask that you refrain from such conduct in the future. D: I've not had to weather your lectures in many a year. And here I thought you were avoiding me. G: That is...a separate matter. You have a duty to consider the value of your own life. D: Your words ring true, of course. I admit I was a bit careless out there. D: However, I have always been a man who is good for nothing but war. D: To best support our cause, I must carve a path through the battlefield with my own hands. I truly believe that will lead us to victory. D: Why the dark expression, Gustave? Do my words trouble you so? G: You remind me of your father. His Majesty once said the same thing, more than a decade ago, during the northern campaign. G: In you, I see his manner, and I hear his words. You grow more like him with each day's passing. G: And, in you, I am reminded of my failure in my duty to him. D: I do not wish to speak of that matter. As I said before, I feel no resentment toward you. G: Even so... You have changed since that fateful day, Your Highness. Perhaps too much. G: I worry that in your pain, you have locked away your true feelings. Your passion is dulled. And your vigor faded. D: You want to hear my true feelings, Gustave? Then let me ask you this. D: Why did you save my life that day? Why did you not allow me to die along with the others? D: If you truly wish to atone for your sins... D: Then take my life, here and now. G: You would ask me to perform the unthinkable! G: You are the future of Faerghus. Your Kingdom needs you alive. G: That I was able to save you...is my only sense of salvation. G: Your Highness, I repeat myself—consider the value of your own life. G: If you continue risking all, be it on the battlefield or by issuing mad orders such as this, I will be forced to save you from yourself. D: I see. So, you will continue to protect and serve me, will you? D: In that case, when I assume the throne, I will order you to work for me in the Kingdom. G: Your Highness? No... Please... D: My father would be happy to see such a day. Perhaps I will ask you to instruct me further in the ways of battle when that time comes. G: If I wish to atone for my sins, I must take your life? Deception has never been your strong suit, Dimitri. Or do you think I cannot see? G: You must know I would take my own life before I let anyone harm you.

——————————————————————————————

G: What brings you here at this hour? And with sword in hand, no less. Hardly the appropriate attire for prayer. D: I am not here to pray to the goddess. I am here... to atone for my sins. G: I see... G: You are your father's reflection. He was never skilled at deception, either... G: Your demand that I take your life was sincere. No matter how you might pretend otherwise. D: How astute of you. So, you think you can see right through me, do you? G: I watched over you from the day you were born. G: And that is why it pains me so to do this. It is like taking the life of my own son. D: I am sorry to burden you with this, but you have my gratitude. Now, make it quick. G: Yes. G: Hrrahhh! D: You really are...a cruel man... G: You believe death will bring an end to your torment? That is nothing but an act of cowardice. G: No matter how difficult, no matter how painful... Your duty to your people is to continue fighting. D: Even if those who have died...the many whose lives I have taken...would rather see me dead? G: Many pray for your death. However, there are far more who need you here. Alive. G: In Faerghus. In the monastery. In this army. And here. Standing before you. G: To serve you. To bear your torment alongside you. That, Your Highness, is my atonement. D: Look at my hands... D: They are shaking. D: When I saw your sword swing before my eyes... For the first time, I did not wish to die. D: Many times I have felt that I cannot afford to die... But this was the first time I truly feared the prospect. D: Tell me, Gustave... Is it really right for me to live? G: It is, Your Highness. It truly is. D: I... Thank you.

——————————————————————————————

paired ending

Dimitri assumed the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and spent his life ruling justly over Fódlan. At his side was the knight, Gustave, who had discarded the name of Gilbert and reaffirmed his oath of fealty to the royal family. After many more years of service, in which the trust between them grew and never wavered, Gustave finally wished to retire. Though he bristled slightly at Dimitri's request to look after and tutor the young prince, it is said that Gustave took on that duty with due patience and solemnity for the remainder of his life.

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #dimitri x gilbert #gilbert x dimitri

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anthonybrxdgerton · 6 years ago

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A Discovery of Witches reread

Last week I re-read A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness and it took me a long time to do it; I had to pause every few pages (sometimes paragraphs) because of the choices characters made I didn’t agree with. I will be doing my reactions about episodes as well (as soon as I re-watch them) and comparing the show to the first book.

My reactions, notes and everything under the cut. There are some trivia I forgot about, some minor changes book vs tv show, some stuff referencing the next books and what not.

BEWARE OF SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOKS, DON’T READ THIS POST. Enjoy!

[ a discovery of witches | shadow of night | the book of life | time’s convert ]

the book takes place in 2009 in the span of 40 days

miriam and marcus have very different taste in music (The whole area seemed unoccupied, although from somewhere there came faint strains of a Bach cello concerto and something that sounded an awful lot like the latest hit recorded by the Eurovision song-contest winners);

marcus wears converse and he's BLOND (so are nathaniel and satu);

the killings that occurred at the time (a.k.a jack’s doing) were the reason matthew thought that vampires are going extinct and are not able to sire anyone else;

Patience, alas, was not the strong suit of Bishop women - you can clearly see that in the books as well as in the show;

sarah and rebecca's mother's name is joanna (which only matters to me because it’s my name too);

matthew came to oxford at 1989 (when he met hamish);

matthew was 37 eyars old when we was re-born as a vampire and baldwin was in his late twenties or early thirties. marcus was in his late twenties and diana is 33.

marcus is into red-heads (but phoebe is not a red-head, which will be notet later by baldwin or matthew (i don’t remember which)) ;

"I asked if you were hungry.” Why he continued to do so was a mystery—when was I not hungry? #relatable, I’m Diana here;

“I love your hair,” he murmured. “It has every color imaginable—even strands of red and black.” which will be important later on when diana’s hair change

matthew knows how to knock the cork off with a sword (and now i feel robbed that we didn't see it)

both matthew and hamish won all souls prize fellowship

"What’s your name?” I asked, smothering a smile. “Timothy,” he answered, rocking back on his heels. He was wearing mismatched cowboy boots, one red and one black. His eyes were mismatched, too—one was blue and one was green. “You’re more than welcome to check your e-mail, Timothy.” “You’re the one.” He tipped his fingers at me, pivoted on the heel of the red boot, and walked away. - i just love Timothy, okay? He’s a sweetheart PLUS he is somewhat important in The Book of Life

ashmole 782 has been missing since 1859 but gerbert had it a thousand years ago and “it is a strange book, is it not, Diana? A thousand years ago I took it from a great wizard from Toledo. When I brought it to France, it was already bound by layers of enchantment."

diana's fingers were already colorful (mostly blue) especially when she was angry/stressed

Somewhere in the center of my soul, a rusty chain began to unwind. It freed itself, link by link, from where it had rested unobserved, waiting for him. My hands, which had been balled up and pressed against his chest, unfurled with it. The chain continued to drop, to an unfathomable depth where there was nothing but darkness and Matthew. At last it snapped to its full length, anchoring me to a vampire. - matthew could feel the chain if diana wanted him too. I think she weaved it subconsciously without realizing she’s using her weaver’s powers at the time

Matthew also knew his faults, anger chief among them. Typically, Matthew’s rage was so destructive that once the poison was out of his system, he disappeared for months or even years to come to terms with what he'd done - first reference to the blood rage

matthew used to be friends with marquis de lafayette

when marcus was dying and matthew told him about vampires, marcus thought he was tormented by a demon

“Holy God,” Marcus said softly. Staring at the picture, he tried to imagine what it would be like to receive a photo of his own father ripped to pieces and tossed into the dirt to die. - a.k.a. WAIT TILL SHADOW OF NIGHT AND NOW I'M CRYING I JUST LOVE MATTHEW AND MARCUS’ RELATIONSHIP SO MUCH OKAY

Matthew wore his pilgrim’s badge only when he was afraid he was going to kill someone or when he was thinking of Eleanor St. Leger—or both. - i wish they kept it in the show too especially since it created the tree of life in bishop’s house

My aunt was good with spells. Emily wasn’t but could fly for short distances and see the future.

Matthew’s books were arranged not by size but in a running time line. Those on the first bookshelf were so ancient that I couldn’t bear to think about what they contained—the lost works of Aristotle, perhaps? Anything was possible. - headcanon that he has books from a Library of Alexandria (maybe he got them from Philippe or Hugh or Godfrey?)

“It was spring, you were bored, and so you got up one morning and went to Italy to make war. Your father had to beg forgiveness from the king on his knees”. now I NEED TO KNOW WHAT MATTHEW HAS DONE

“Perhaps, but one thing hasn’t changed in all these years. Whenever there’s a crisis, there’s a de Clermont nearby.” - it should be their motto, really

diana has visions too - i know it's obvious but i completely forgot about it since the show didn’t include it at all except for episode 7 when everybody saw the past

Matthew was unusually tall for the time, though not as tall as he became once he was a vampire - being reborn as a vampire not only makes you stronger but bigger and taller too.

His mother strode forward and slapped him, hard, across the face. “How dare you ask that question?” i need to see it, WHY DIDN’T YOU INCLUDE THIS, SHOW?

marcus is "good at wheedling information out of people."

“And you are going to give me gray hairs—long thought impossible among vampires, by the way—with your courage, your firecracker hands, and the impossible things you say.” - i just like it and i wonder if deb already knew that diana would do that for him in the book of life?

Baldwin had him by the throat before the words were out of his mouth. Their heads close together, one dark and one bright, they rocketed to the far end of the hall. Matthew’s body smashed into a wooden door, splintering it with the impact. - friendly reminder that Baldwin is a much better fighter than Matthew and the show SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF MAKING HIM WEAKER

Vampires didn’t usually get all of their names (5) when they were reborn but over the years.

One reason the de Clermont family was so long-lived was that each member had different skills in a crisis. Philippe had always been the leader of men, a charismatic figure who could convince vampires and humans and sometimes even daemons to fight for a common cause. Their brother Hugh had been the negotiator, bringing warring sides to the bargaining table and resolving even the fiercest of conflicts. Godfrey, the youngest of Philippe’s three sons, had been their conscience, teasing out the ethical implications of every decision. To Baldwin fell the battle strategies, his sharp mind quick to analyze every plan for flaws and weaknesses. Louisa had been useful as bait or as a spy, depending on the situation. Matthew, improbably enough, had been the family’s fiercest warrior. His early adventures with the sword had made his father wild with their lack of discipline, but he’d changed. Now whenever Matthew held a weapon in his hand, something in him went cold and he fought his way through obstacles with a tenacity that made him unbeatable. Then there was Ysabeau. Everyone underestimated her except for Philippe, who had called her either “the general” or “my secret weapon.” She missed nothing and had a longer memory than Mnemosyne. - i really like it and i wish it was in the show too. That being said I really am interested what are the talents/skills of Verin, Stasia and Freya.

A helicopter,” Baldwin said. “It was waiting in Clermont-Ferrand to take me back to Lyon. - does Baldwin have a house there?

”Fancy seeing you here, Miss Bishop”. It was what he always said when I sneaked into his study at home or crept downstairs late at night for one more bedtime story. FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT STEPHEN TOLD HER THE SAME THING IN LONDON TOO

Let me know if you need anything, Ysabeau.” Baldwin brushed her cheeks with his lips. - WERE THEY ENEMIES? FRENEMIES?? I THOUGH THAT HATED EACH OTHER WHAT IS GOING ON I NEED ANSWERS ESPECIALLY THAT YSABEAU SAID SHE HATES HIM IN BOL AND THAT HE TRIED TO BANISH HER FROM JERUSALEM ONCE

Marcus was Matthew’s son. He was my son. / When the door swung open, Marcus’s blue eyes met mine with a twinkle. “Hi, Mom, we’re home!” I JUST LOVE IT, OKAY, WE NEED MORE OF THEM IN THE SHOW

Marcus prefers whiskey even though all of his family loves wine

One morning Marcus turned on his heel and stormed back to the house, leaving his father alone in the old apple orchard. “Diana,” he growled in greeting before streaking through the family room and straight out the front door. “I’m too damn young for this!” he shouted as he left. - I LOVE YOU MY BABY DRAMA QUEEN

Gerbert had always wanted to be included among the Knights of Lazarus, and my father refused him time and time again. - which is why he sent Juliette to spy on Matthew and it gives interesting layer that he told about The Knights in the show. He’s so bitter loool

Stephen Proctor could timewalk into the past OR into the future hence why we saw him in the 1x01 - he wasn’t just a hallucination, he probably timewalked into the future to make sure Ashmole 782 is safe

also, at the end of the book, right before they timewalked, Matthew noticed that there are some annotations in his “Doctor Faustus” copy he made that he didn’t remember putting them there. - is this a sign that 16th century Matthew somehow subconsciously remembered Diana or his fight with Kit or something? I wish that was explained too because that’s interesting.

this is so long I’M SORRY. Overall, I had very hard time re-reading this book especially when Matthew was so possessive and controlling. I wanted to punch him every time he said or did something. Show!Matthew is definitely more bearable and les creepy. Also, I love the familiar/platonic relationships between Marcus & Matthew, Marcus & Diana, Marcus & Miriam, Miriam & Diana, Sophie & Diana, Sarah & Marcus and more. Too bad the show didn’t care about those relationships too much. As for the romantic relationships, I wish I knew more about Miriam & Bertrand, Philippe & Ysabeau, Sophie & Nathaniel too.

#a discovery of witches #all souls #diana bishop

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gumnut-logic · 6 years ago

Text

A Little Chaos (Part 5)

Title: A Little Chaos

Author: Gumnut

May 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: A little conversation in less than optimal conditions.

Word count: 2068

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/Em.

Timeline: Sometime after ‘Gentle Rain’

Author’s note: Yeah, I should be writing ‘The Bellini Incident’, but this was supposed to be a quick fic, but then so was Bellini. This one will not be anywhere near as long and I will be back to Bellini asap. I am now laughing at this last statement as the word count for this has now passed the 10K mark ::headdesk:: Also, the prompts below? Pretty much forgotten…though I guess they may rear their heads in the next chapter or so.

The prompt: From a series of OC prompts. Kylorr asked for 5. Have they ever cheated on anyone before? And 7. How many partners have they had? I don’t know if I’m going to answer either of them, but this is the fic that happened. I hope you enjoy it :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“Virgil?”

The engineer didn’t answer. He sat staring at his hands, thoughts obviously miles away.

She was on familiar turf. They were back at Wellington Hospital, the site of so much last Christmas. This time, however, it was not Virgil, but Kayo who was being attended. That left Virgil and Scott sitting in the waiting room.

It was obvious neither did waiting very well. Scott was busy on comms with John, the Wellington police and the GDF. She had heard shouting over the line several times from his direction. Scott answered everything calm and business-like. Em had no doubt she would have to help unwind her man later. She could see the tension in his shoulders from here.

Thunderbird Two was once again parked on the hospital’s front lawn. The rest of the Tracy family was inbound, Grandma marshalling them. Even John would be dropping in as soon as they could contain the fallout from the incident.

Kayo was in no danger. She just needed the bullet removed and the wound tidied up. She would be out of surgery soon.

At the moment, Virgil was her concern.

“Virgil?” She reached out to touch his shoulder and he jumped.

“Huh?”

Scott eyed him from across the room, his brow furrowing.

“I need to check you over.”

It was Virgil’s turn to frown. “Why?”

“Kayo hit you rather hard.”

He shifted in his seat. “I’m fine.”

“Forgive me if I never believe that statement ever again.”

His eyes shot up, narrowed slightly and his lips thinned.

She shrugged. “Can you really blame me?”

He sighed, dropping his gaze once again to his hands. “Okay.”

Squeezing his shoulder, she smiled just a little. “C’mon, it will only take a moment.”

Without a word, he rose to his feet and picked up the green dress that lay on the seat beside him. Em cursed the lack of her ‘scoot, reduced to the basic hoverchair the hospital provided. Virgil was tall next to her. Scott was a bloody skyscraper.

Speaking of Scott, her boyfriend was beside them in a matter of steps. “News?”

Em reached out and caught his hand. “No, I’m just going to check out Virgil.”

“Why?” Immediate frown, immediate concern.

She arched an eyebrow up at him. “I know you know how hard a hitter Kayo can be and Virgil took a good one to his midsection today. I just need to check on him...considering his medical history.”

“Oh.” Scott swallowed and grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “Keep me informed.”

Virgil pursed his lips. “I’m fine.”

“Sure.”

The glare Virgil shot his brother was enough to light his hair on fire.

Em dragged the younger man away from her boyfriend before the argument could start. She wrestled him into an examination cubicle. “Top half of your uniform off. I’m going to grab some equipment.” A smile to soften her tone. “Be back in a moment.” She pulled the curtain and left him to disrobe.

She was caught in thought between Scott and Virgil when she approached the nursing station, but was thrown out of her thoughts at the mention of the word ‘Tracy’. Being so low in the damn hoverchair, apparently her presence hadn’t been noticed.

“...Tracy, look at those eyes. Wouldn’t you love to have them looking at you?” The voice belonged to a young nurse holding a phone talking to an equally young workmate.

Em frowned.

“Blue or brown?”

“Oh, I don’t know. They are both bloody gorgeous.”

“And both spoken for.” An older voice broke in. “Have you been taking photos? Jenny, do you want to lose your job?”

“These are worth more than my job, ‘Melda.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“So gorgeous though.”

Slipping back into the shadows, Em fingered the comms in her collar. “John?”

“Em? What’s wrong?”

John’s voice never failed to alter her heartbeat. A combination of long memory and the music it was. “Can you find a mobile phone about five metres...south-east of me, belonging to a Jenny?”

A moment. “Located. Why?”

“She has pictures of Scott and Virgil on it. She’s intending on selling them.”

The line went quiet. Ten seconds later there was a squawk from the nurses’ station. “What the hell?”

“Situation resolved.” John’s voice betrayed no smugness, but a female voice was laughing in the background. “Eos, subtlety next time.”

“She didn’t deserve subtlety.” Em’s phone pinged quietly and she pulled it out of the hoverchair’s inside pocket. The photos appeared on the screen.

The woman was right. They were worth more than her job. A photo of them entering ER. Virgil at Kayo’s side that naked love and concern on his face that had so circled the world the last time the press had hounded them, but behind them Scott was carrying her. The expression on his face spoke of his concern for Kayo, as well, but a flick over to the next photo and his head had turned to look down at Em in his arms.

Oh god.

He was different to Virgil. The two brothers were vastly different in so many ways. But the way he was looking at her...

Her heart missed a beat.

A text flicked up on her phone. These are the only copies. Keep them safe. John.

While the nurse, metres away from her, was swearing at her phone, Em had to blink to keep the tears at bay while looking at hers.

But Virgil was waiting.

She shook herself, straightened and without a word, barged into the nurses’ station and appropriated the equipment she needed.

She took no pleasure as the nurse exclaimed to her friend that her phone was possessed, that it was posting horrible things to her social media all by itself, that it wasn’t responding, that it swore at her. She did smile, however, when she distinctly heard Eos declare through the phone’s speakers that Jenny would be assimilated and resistance was futile. The AI had obviously been in John’s Trek collection again.

The phone was dropped to the hard floor. There was a sharp crack as its screen shattered.

Oops.

The woman was still swearing as Em headed back to Virgil. She had to swallow a laugh and straighten her expression before slipping through the curtains.

Any thought of humour vanished at the sight of the emergency responder sitting on the side of the bed. His posture was slumped and worn. In the middle of his bare chest a lovely bruise about the size off his fiancée’s fist was blooming.

He straightened the moment he saw her, facade falling into place.

Em pressed her lips together just a little.

“Virgil, she is going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“You and Scott saved the both of us.”

“I know.”

She sighed. He’d put a wall up that she didn’t have the trust yet to batter down. Only Kayo or Scott could do that.

As she reached for the scanner and fiddled with the primitive hoverchair in an attempt to get it to gain at least a little height so she could examine him, he slid off the bed and crouched down to her level. “How are you?”

She blinked. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t miss the curve of his lips at her parroted response. His eyes dropped to the touchscreen she was fighting. “Let me have a look at that.” And the next minute she found herself on the bed and her bare-chested patient pulling apart the control panel of her hoverchair. A muttered expletive, a whack with a screwdriver from his kit and the ‘chair hovered smoothly to a standing height.

He straightened. “There you go. Should behave itself long enough until Gordon arrives with your backup ‘scoot.”

His offered arms were gratefully accepted and he lifted her off the bed and placed her gently in the ‘chair, assisting her with the harness.

“Virgil, I have to say that you are the first patient of mine who has ever had me as a patient in return.”

A snort and he smiled up at her. “We each have our specialties.”

She returned the smile, happy to see it. “Now let’s check under your hood.”

A pair of rolled eyes and he climbed back onto the bed. A gesture for him to lie down and he complied. She activated the bed’s holographic system and an outline of his system appeared above him. Focussed on his rib cage, her eyes tracked the healed remains of his injury on his right side, searching for any aggravation. The bruise showed up, minor sub-dermal damage obvious, but his ribcage had managed to flex without issue. His lungs were clear and healthy, heart unaffected.

A sigh of relief she hadn’t known she’d needed.

She ran some basic obs, his brown eyes tracking her actions.

“So, was I right?”

A blink. “In what way?”

“I’m fine.”

Unable to let it completely slide, Em curled her lips. “Oh, I think Kayo thinks you are pretty fine.”

He snorted and the hologram rippled. A second later his expression froze and his heartbeat increased.

She frowned. “Virgil, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Lying under examination is futile. You know that.” Not to mention that she had learnt pretty fast that the man was rather crap at it in any case.

“It is nothing.”

“It most certainly is not. What is wrong, Virgil?”

His readouts changed yet again as he...well, she could only describe it as ‘squirmed’ under her gaze.

“Virgil.”

“Em.”

She couldn’t force him to tell her anything and she didn’t want to. She shut off the scanner. “You are fine. Just take it easy.”

He sat up, but he wouldn’t look at her. Something was definitely wrong. She frowned and dropped her hand onto his knee. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Just know I’m here if you need to talk. Patient confidentiality.” She fixed him with her gaze and he smiled at her just slightly.

“Thanks, Em.”

She held his gaze just a moment longer, frowning. His eyes darted away and she knew he wouldn’t tell her in this case and she had no doubt Scott had something to do with it. An involuntary sigh.

He looked up at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Gentle fingers wrapped around her arm. “You’ve been through quite an experience.”

Okay, so she had her own facades. She was as bad as him. “I’m fine.”

“That talking thing is mutual, you know.”

“Thank you for saving me. Again.” It came out in all a rush.

A ghost of a smirk. “Anytime, Em, anytime. Besides, if I hadn’t, Scott would have likely killed the guy.” Virgil shuffled off the bed and started shouldering on the top half of his uniform.

She blinked, suddenly caught up in the moments before Virgil had broken through the wall and ripped the guy out of her personal space.

“Em?”

Caring brown eyes looking down at her in concern.

She put together something resembling confidence on her face.

He wasn’t fooled for a second. “You don’t have to worry. Our lawyers will put him away for a very long time.” He reached for his harness, buckling it on with practised fingers.

She shivered, remembering the slimy touch on her belly.

“Em?” And suddenly Virgil was too close. She flung herself backwards, the unfamiliar hoverchair colliding with her tray of instruments, sending several of them clattering to the floor.

His eyes widened in realisation...and horror. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Em. Hell.” He stumbled backwards, catching the curtain of the cubicle and almost tangling himself in it.

Her hand shot up. “No! No, Virgil, no. It’s fine. I’m sorry. I know. I KNOW. You would never hurt me.” She flung the chair forward, grabbing his arm in desperation. “I’m sorry. Please come here.”

Both fear and anger flickered through those chocolate eyes and god she wished Kayo was with them. The man was massive, his sheer muscular bulk could be considered intimidating, but he had never intimidated her. And he wasn’t intimidating her now. It was just... raw memories.

Virgil’s hands flexed into fists and he refused to move closer. “I’m so sorry, Em. I should have known better. What that asshole said to you...” His knuckles went white.

She forced a grim smile. “Well, as you said, he is going away for a very long while.” A blink and a frown. “How do you know what he said to me?”

He froze, his eyes widening.

“Virgil?”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #kayo kyrano #em harris #virgil/kayo #scott/em #warm rain #gentle rain

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loofiedee · 6 years ago

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This is probably going to get long because I might go into some detail, but I also might have forgotten a few things or decided not to mention them. This isn’t going to be an exhaustive list of things Snaji has “done”, and has a lot of personal opinion.

Spoilers, Snaji negativity, and a little bit of crude language under the cut so be warned!

Snaji was never on my list of favorites. He’s the kind of character that rubs me the wrong way, but despite that he was able to fluctuate between tolerable and lovable in his own way for most of the pre-timeskip part of the series. I didn’t hate Snaji, he just wasn’t my favorite Strawhat and that was it.

My biggest problem with him was always his creepy and invasive behavior towards women and the fact that he thinks he’s a gentleman when he’s not. I think the biggest thing pre-timeskip is the fight with Creep Lion where what really gets Snaji to snap is not the fact that Creep Lion has put his entire crew through hell and was going to forcibly marry Nami, no. It was the fact that Creep Lion got the peeping tom devil fruit before he did.

But even then, most of his screen time was spent on other things. He had things he did, he had wants and needs and a personality other than being horny. But much like most of the female characters, his personality imploded in on itself and all that’s left now is tits.

I will not be talking about parts of the writing that happen to have Snaji in them that I think were handled poorly (the entire wedding with Pudding, for example) but more on actions that specifically Snaji has carried out that make me dislike him/how he was written.

A lot of this stuff is personal opinion and not things he has done objectively “wrong”, so to speak. This isn’t me trying to shame anyone for liking him or me trying to tell anyone “your husbando is shit”. I like plenty of characters who other people dislike or find to be “bad characters”. It’s just that you asked a question, and I want to answer it honestly!

The Fishman Island Arc

We’re going to come back to something else that happened in this arc later, but we’re just going to start by going through a few of the things he’s done that really rub me the wrong way:

Just thinking about the mermaids gave him a nosebleed so bad that Chopper was concerned for his life. Chopper proceeded to tell him to AVOID the mermaids.

He went directly against Chopper’s orders and he he saw the mermaids he got a nosebleed so bad he needed a goddamn blood transfusion

During this blood transfusion he was given blood from two gay men/crossdressers and he went into a rage because he’d rather die than get blood from gay people. (which is Holy Shit levels of gross. I know Oda is Japanese, but this is still a really unfortunate choice given in the United States it’s still illegal for gay and bisexual men to give blood)

His horniness was repeatedly a major hindrance to the entire crew during this arc. It was different when it was a passing joke about how he gets all starry eyed because Nami and Robin are pretty.

His boner influenced the plot and created problems for the entire crew. This happens over and over again, and he never learns from or improves because of it.

Dresrossa Arc

Pretty minor drop in the bucket all things considered, but the entire thing with Viola. Not the fact that he wouldn’t fight her, but the fact that once again his boner put his life at risk.

I am aware that in the end through the power of Snaji being Snaji he managed to make Viola come to their side but overall just. HUFF.

** Side note I took a glance at the wiki bc I wanted to make sure I was getting things right and even the author of the wiki seems lowkey tired of Snaji ex machina [screenshot from Viola’s page on the One Piece Wikia] [”Somehow touched by these words, Viola decided to help S//anji”]

“somehow” vfdnhjgbfdjh

Whole Cake Island Arc

A very minor one is Snaji’s instant willingness to marry Pudding and abandon the Strawhats and only rethinking it once things became dire.

More a personal gripe but Snaji didn’t develop. He didn’t change, he didn’t improve, nothing about him is different. He didn’t learn anything from Pudding, he didn’t become a better person. He was just made to suffer for an arc and then he was fine again and there’s no long term consequences to anything. Other characters who got similar arcs developed and changed. He didn’t.

The moment he wasn’t at risk anymore he was back to having exactly 1 (one) personality trait and that personality trait was being a pervert. And the entire thing just. Made me sad.

Generally,

He lost a lot of his interesting and sympathetic traits

It feels like he nolonger gives a shit about any of the other crew members except for the female ones. I miss his relationships with the other crew members a lot.

I mentioned that we were going to come back to Fishman Island, and now’s the time. This part is purely personal and not necessarily something Snaji “did”, but I’ve been wanting to talk about it for a while and this gives me a reason.

There’s one particular scene that gets to me more than any other and cemented how much I dislike Snaji. Compared to some other stuff it might seem unimportant but it really, really bothers me.

At some point during the arc, Jinbei comes to Nami having heard of what Arlong did to her, her family, and her Island. And he comes to apologize and take responsibility both for what Arlong did and also for not preventing it, even though there’s really nothing Jinbei could have done.

Before Nami even got a chance to speak, without even asking her, without even looking at her, without even paying a single speck of attention to her reactions, Sa/nji jumps in.

He jumps in and tells Jinbei to kill himself in atonement for what happened. He tells this man he doesn’t deserve forgiveness for a crime he didn’t commit, without even considering the person who was actually had to live through what Arlong did.

He spoke over Nami, he spoke without a single concern for what she would want, he spoke over a victim and a survivor who actually has to live with the suffering these things caused.

And not only that, but he did all of this after he showed no actual interest in hearing about what happened to Nami and her island. In the original Arlong arc when Nojiko is telling the Strawhats about what happened, about all that Nami has suffered through, when she finishes Sa/nji doesn’t even care. He doesn’t actually care about what Nami went through because he was too busy thinking about how cute Nami would have been as a child.

And then he feels the right to speak over her. He feels the right to speak for her, without considering her or her opinion on the matter, on whether or not she forgives Jinbei.

He didn’t care what Nami thought, he just wanted to be a white knight.

And when Nami tells him to stop? He tells her, the one who had to go through all of it, to think about what they did to her. As if she doesn’t know, as if she didn’t have to live it.

Nothing Sa/nji has ever done will ever piss me off as much as that did.

What bothers me about Snaji is that he’s a creep who thinks he’s a gentleman, and who the narrative treats as a gentleman.

Snaji is never really punished for his actions. You’re not supposed to think he’s a creep, you’re supposed to like him. You’re supposed to find it funny but charming when he objectifies women and treats them simultaneously as untouchable angels and helpless children who can’t do anything for themselves.

What post-timeskip Snaji did is that he’s every single thing that made me dislike Snaji and almost nothing of what made him a character I could care about.

Once again, I want to say this isn’t an attack on anyone or saying it’s bad to like Snaji, I’m also not trying to say Snaji is the only character that has done bad things or things I dislike. I just wanted to explain why I didn’t care for him and what bothered me about how his character was handled post timeskip.

#negativity #not op #the reason I screenshotted your ask and misspelled his name and such is so that it wouldn't show up in the tag!#long post

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mrschangrettawrites · 6 years ago

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Acquisitions

Summary: Every person has their purpose, and yours has just come up.

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 1692

Notes: FINALLY AN UPDATE AFTER SIX MONTHS FDKNGKDOFNGDKFNGOD god im so sorry it has taken this long to update but i've gotten a job since starting this fic and it's consumed much of my time, then the holidays were upon us and, well, yall know how it goes. but i got hit with inspo during my shift today so here it is! the long awaited fourth chapter! hopefully future updates wont be as delayed but who knows lmao. anyways thanks for waiting! minor tw for violence. Spoilers for season four, but it is v canon divergent so not really very many, reader is a WOC. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

Tagging: @kittiofdoom @justanothergal22 @sophspark @blinder-secrets @ree-duh @kamala-khaan if you would like to be tagged just lmk!

Just as the tension was getting to be almost too overwhelming, a waiter arrived with two menus, and you had never been so relieved to be served in your life.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling brightly as you took one and did your best to hide behind it under the guise of reading the dishes on offer. Thankfully there were pork free dishes on offer, which made you remember that you were going to have to educate Luca on Islam and it’s rules. Then you wondered if he would be as open and kind about there being another religion in his home as your father had been prior to his reversion. You guessed that Luca was Catholic, and while there were similarities between Catholicism and Islam, there were far more glaring differences.

“When we have our wedding,” you began hesitantly, “will it be in a church?”

“If I know my mother as well as I think I do, I doubt we’ll have a choice.” Luca joked. “Why?”

“Just checking!” You said quickly, going back to the menu. Even though there had not been a masjid in Small Heath, you had always dreamed of getting married in one. Your parents had to go all the way to London, so you figured that you would be able to do the same. Would New York have masjids? Would it have Muslims? Would it have Turkish Muslims?

“What's New York like?”

Luca paused, setting his menu down. “Well, for one, it’s a lot bigger than Small Heath.”

That made you smile. “I thought as much.”

“I don’t know, it’s just...hard to describe.” Luca drummed his fingers on the table, making your gaze flit down to his hand, and watch how elegantly it moved. “It’s full of life.” He said finally, his hand still again. “Everywhere you go there’s at least twelve dozen people around you, even at night it’s busy. Makes Small Heath look pretty sleepy in comparison.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered this. Your mind ran wild with images of towering spires, roads that went on for kilometers, people dressed in all manner of ways. Your life had been a sheltered one, but that was all about to change.

A waiter soon arrived, asking for your orders.

“I’ll have the chicken Alfredo.” Luca said. He and the waiter both looked over at you, waiting for your order.

You began to panic as you had become too wrapped up in your thoughts to think of an order. “Oh um, make it two!” You said, inwardly wincing at how your voice raised at the end.

But the waiter made no indication of noticing, merely made a note of the orders and said that the kitchen would get right to it.

You looked back down at your teacup, eyes traveling over the lines, both dark and faint, trying to figure out what they were trying to tell you, if anything.

“Have you had much Italian food?” Luca asked, and you were grateful for the distraction.

“Not really.” You said. “Just Turkish and English food.”

“Well I can’t speak on Turkish food, but English stuff sucks.” Luca said bluntly.

A giggle slipped from you. “It can be pretty bland.” You agreed. “I mean, the English have an empire that spans the entire globe, with colonies that have incredible spices, but they never use them in cooking for some reason.” That would never cease to bamboozle you.

Luca grinned and chuckled. “I know Matteo can’t wait to be back in New York with proper food.”

You furrowed your brow. “Which one is he?”

Luca raised a brow, but pointed at a booth just a few meters away, where you recognised two of Luca’s men. “The one of the left is Matteo, and the other is Frederico.” He explained. “Matteo can be a little hot headed, but he’s loyal. Frederico is more quiet.” His gaze went back to you. “And they will both protect you.”

While the notion of being protected and watched by gangster was far from a new one, the gangsters in question were usually men you knew well. You glanced at them nervously. “So, they’re ok with this whole marriage thing.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Luca said dismissively. “They’re soldiers, and they’ll do what they’re told.”

You knew that was meant to put you at ease, but it didn’t work. They had orders yes, but orders have been ignored before. And you couldn’t help but wonder how they really felt about their leader marrying some girl from England, who belonged to a family that not a week ago they were planning to kill. You fisted the fabric of your dress that rested on your lap.

“W-Why me?” You asked quietly. You had managed to keep the question away from the front of your mind so far, but you needed to know. “Why would you choose me? If you were going to marry anyone, Ada would’ve been the smart choice. She’s Tommy’s sister, and she already has a son, she knows how to…” You trailed off, face burning. “Well, you know.” You cleared your throat. “Why are you marrying me?”

Luca was silent, his unreadable, impassive gaze slowly going over you. It made the hairs all over your body stand up, in fact your surprised that the hair on your head hadn’t all magically sprung to life. “I wanted to repay a debt.”

You furrowed your brow. “Debt? What debt? You don’t owe me anything.”

“It isn’t my debt.” Luca clarified. “It’s my mother’s.”

“Your...mother?”

He nodded. “She hasn’t forgotten, how you got her out of Small Heath.”

Oh. You looked back down, face flushing again. “I didn’t help your mum to have her in my debt.” You said, horrified that that’s what they, the Changretta’s and their people, all thought.

“I know.” Luca sounded calm, patient. “My mother said you weren’t that type. But you still got her out of Thomas’s path, and because of you she’s alive. I’m just repaying you. Now we’re even.”

You nodded, slowly, still not sure what to make of this reason, if it was in fact the truth.

If you were completely truthful, you hadn’t been thinking at all when you had gone to help Audrey Changretta. You just knew that her husband was dead, after hours of torture, and you knew that Tommy wouldn’t have thought twice to go after her. You still remembered that day, as if it had just happened.

While the early morning fog had still clung to your ankles, you raced to her home, heart hammering. You were terrified that you were too late or that she wasn’t home, but she was there, tired and a little disheveled, but there.

“You have to leave.” You had blurted out. “I’m so sorry. Tommy’s killed your husband and you have to go I’m so sorry I really am but you need to go please, please just go!”

It had taken you a few minutes to calm down and fully explain everything, but once you had, Mrs Changretta did as you asked. You even helped her pack, and kept an eye out for any Blinders. You went with her to the train station, all the while telling her how sorry you were. You were almost hysterical, and in tears by the time her train arrived. You thought that would be the last time you ever saw a Changretta.

When Tommy heard that Mrs Changretta was gone, he was livid. You had walked in on him yelling at John and Arthur, demanding that they go out and find her, leave no stone unturned, no person unquestioned. He was going to have his pound of flesh, one way or another.

“She’s gone.” Once again your mouth had moved faster than your brain could think, and you stared, wide eyed, as the three brothers and Polly all looked at you in shock.

“She’s what.” Tommy’s tone had been dripping with venom, and it sent a chill all through you.

“I’m sorry Tommy but I-I helped her leave.” You wilted a little, hunched over, equal parts ashamed and scared. “She didn’t do anything Tommy! She-”

You were cut off by the feel of skin colliding harshly against your cheek, sending you to the ground.

In a daze you looked up, to see Tommy being restrained by Arthur and John, while Polly screamed at him.

“YOU DON’T RAISE A HAND TO FAMILY LIKE THAT THOMAS!” You had never seen your aunt so furious, and it had only made your state worse.

“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Thomas roared, eyes alight with rage. “YOU BETRAY THIS FAMILY AGAIN AND YOU’RE OUT!”

You began to cry. “I-I’m sorry Tommy! I’m sorry!” You wept and begged for forgiveness, but that had only angered Tommy further.

“Should ship you to fucking Istanbul!” He snarled. He paused when a child’s cries began to echo in the house, making him look at the ceiling. “And you fucking woke up Charlie!” Tommy managed to shake off his two brothers, and he glared down at you before getting out a cigarette. “I mean it.” He said, in his low, quiet, dangerous voice. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll put you in a fucking crate myself.”

Even after Polly got you out of the house you were sobbing, still saying how sorry you were.

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart.” Polly had said gently. “You did a good thing.”

‘Did I?’

“How is your mother?” You asked, trying to ignore the memory of the stinging pain from Tommy’s slap.

“She’s alive, which is what matters.” Luca smiled gently. “Thank you. I mean that. My mother is all I have left now.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I would do it again.” You said, only realizing how true it was once all the words had left your mouth.

“Two chicken Alfredos.” The waiter had reappeared, carrying the dishes on a silver platter and laying them out in front of the both of you.

“Grazie.”

“Thank you so much.”

The waiter nodded before moving onto another table.

“Still can’t believe you people don’t tip.” Luca said, sounding genuinely mistified.

“What’s a tip?”

#luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders x reader #GUESS WHO'S BACK #BACK AGAIN

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