#all we can do is try to understand each other……..so many barriers…whatever man

[vampiresinthedaylight]

I have read the left hand of darkness

I started reading the left hand of darkness bc of this tweet

[venture-through-the-mist]

Thoughts on The Lotus Eaters

As I’m sure is obvious, this will be discussing the Lotus Eaters quest in detail, so if you haven’t played it yet, I’d suggest skipping this post! I don’t want to spoil it for anyone (because even though it’s a short quest, I still think it benefits from being played with no prior knowledge of what it entails), so the full post will be below the cut.

Alright, I have SO many thoughts, so I’m going to try and keep this somewhat concise…ish. This is mostly just a bunch of rambles, so I apologize for any grammatical errors or if it’s hard to understand. I just kinda…wrote what came to my mind.

First off,

The Music: I briefly mentioned this in another post, but holy shit the music for this update is amazing. I mean, we all knew it would be, Warframe has a tendency to put out absolutely awesome songs, but oh my god. We get two more versions of what is one of my favorite songs in the game. The loading screen version of ‘This is What You Are’ has to be, by far, one of my favorite things I’ve heard from this game. I love the feel to it, like a combination of ‘old’ Warframe with ‘new’, 1999-era Warframe. I’ve had it playing on repeat almost all day because it’s so good.

Now, for the version of ‘This is What You Are’ that we actually get during the quest, the one that Lotus is singing to herself. I, admittedly, didn’t pay too much attention to it when I was actually playing the quest, at least not beyond “omg Lotus is singing, that’s awesome” (I was just too excited about the actual quest lol). However, when I listened to it again, I was fascinated by the subtle differences in how this version sounds compared to the ‘normal’ version of the song, or even to the new version in the loading screen. The singing is a lot more staccato, and the notes don’t flow into each other in the ways they normally would. It’s almost as if Lotus is having to concentrate more on what comes next (at least, that’s my interpretation), which makes sense given that we know that she’s singing in order to drown out the Indifference’s voice. Her singing also sounds a little sad, or maybe just lonely, to me. Her mind is filled with the Indifference trying to influence her, and she’s taken it upon herself to be a barrier (or as she says it, a “distraction”) between It and the Tenno. She’s secluded herself (again), and her tone of voice seems to reflect that.

Also, after the quest, if you go and talk to Daughter/Kaelli in the Necralisk, ‘Party of Your Lifetime’ plays now, instead of whatever song was playing before. I just think that’s neat (and also brings in some interesting ideas for 1999…what did our Drifter do?).

Moving on…

The Story: I had absolutely zero idea where the story was going to go from this update, but I was a bit worried about how they’d go about locking us into playing as the Drifter for 1999, since — although I 1000% agree with why the Drifter is definitely going to be the one going back in time — I’m definitely someone who would rather play as my Operator for my own lore reasons (and I can’t think of a reason that my Operator would let the Drifter do this instead of her). I was actually wondering if they’d actually lock us into the Drifter without giving us a choice, or if they just wouldn’t give us the option to do the romance stuff if we chose Operator (for obvious reasons…bc yk, they’re a child). But, I really enjoy the route they went down, how Lotus knows that the Drifter has to be the one this time, because if the Operator does, that might just be giving the Indifference exactly what it wants. She’s, once again, protecting her kids in the way she knows how, by taking them out of the conflict in any way she can.

But, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, so let’s backtrack a bit and talk about how cool it is that we see the Operator and the Drifter interacting with Lotus at the same time. I may have missed something in the quests leading up to that, or this might just be something attributed to the Man in the Wall’s hijinks, or…something, but I thought that they couldn’t be in the same place at the same time/in the same ‘reality’. So, I was quite surprised (pleasantly, ofc) to see both of them. I really love the difference in the dialogue options when we initially talk to Lotus. The Operator is torn between wondering if Lotus is alright, and also being super worried about what the hell the noise is, in a way that makes me think they definitely suspect that the Indifference is meddling with things again (which makes sense, given that they’re actively in the Sanctum). Honestly, the Operator was probably waiting for something like this to happen. They know, or at least suspect, that Lotus saw the Man in the Wall after the battle with Ballas, it was only a matter of time before that became important. The Drifter, on the other hand, is more concerned with Lotus herself, warning her to be careful, reassuring her, but also wondering what she means by “It’s you”. Maybe the Drifter doesn’t really know the extent of the effects that the Indifference has on the System, maybe the Operator is just trying to protect Lotus in the only way they know how…get the perceived danger away from her first, ask questions later (I’ve noticed from their dialogue throughout the game that the Operator tends to have a bit of a sharper temper than the Drifter does…perhaps bc they’re younger). Either way, it’s nice that they have different responses to seeing Lotus and hearing the noise.

I chose the “Are you okay” and “What do you mean, ‘it’s you’?” dialogue options, and I absolutely loved that my Operator’s line was “This isn’t just a bad memory, it is? This is new”. This acknowledges, at least in my interpretation, that Lotus does have lingering emotions from everything that’s happened in the past (Ballas/The New War, Hunhow, etc). Once again, Warframe surprises me by remembering to make the trauma that a character has gone through actually relevant to the story even after we’ve dealt with the source of the problem. I probably shouldn’t be surprised at this, but most video games I’ve seen don’t tend to do that. Usually characters are…somewhat fine after experiencing something horrific, so it’s refreshing to see a different (more realistic, imo) take on it. This isn’t even the only time we see this in this quest/afterwards. Lotus outright confirms it herself (“I will not let it devour one instant of my pain. Not even Ballas. Not even the Jade Light.”), and in doing so, is also showing us how she’s dealt with the events of the prior storylines. She’s gone through a series of extremely traumatic events, and she still has those painful memories, but she’s not going to succumb to the Indifference, even if It promises to take that away. She’s been hurt, yes, but she is healing, and she’s finally in a place where she can actually do so as herself. That doesn’t mean it’s easy for her to ignore the voice that’s calling to her —the voice that only she can hear— but she’s determined to. I’m curious if the voice-lines after the quest are different if a player had chosen Margulis or Natah instead of Lotus after the New War, though.

I find it very interesting that Lotus calls the Drifter ‘my champion’. I just really enjoy the fact that she definitively sees the Operator and the Drifter as two separate people, as opposed to ‘her child’, and ‘her child but older’, because I feel like that fact could have certainly been a cause of a bit of discomfort and a learning curve for both her and the Drifter after the New War.

Now, onto the 1999 portion of the quest, which, even as short as it was, was quite interesting. It was really weird to be in the Mall again and not hear ‘Party of Your Lifetime’ playing or see other Tenno dancing around the stage (like how it was during TennoCon). It was quite eery, and I love it. Also, we got to see Kalymos again, so that’s a plus.

All in all, this quest answered a lot of my questions about how the game is going to transition to 1999 (and even answered questions that I didn’t know I had). However, I am slightly (read: very) concerned at the same time, mainly because of the line with Lotus saying “If I become something you do not recognize, do not mourn”. I feel like that’s potentially foreshadowing something…They don’t usually put lines like that in without reason. Maybe I’m just reading too far into that…but I suppose we’ll see when 1999 comes out.

Anywho, another thing that I wasn’t expecting but am really glad that we got was the continued acknowledgement of Lotus/Natah/Margulis being a system. This happened not once, but twice (to my knowledge), and I think it’s really great that they didn’t just disregard the whole “I am not one” thing from The New War after we made our choice between the three of them. It’s really nice to see that that wasn’t just a one-off line, especially as we continue to get more and more moments where the game references them.

This is already way longer than it probably should be, but what can I say? I like well-written characters, and this game has so many of them. I’ve definitely forgotten some things that I’d wanted to put in this post, but ah well.

[saezurumurmurs]

Do you think yashiro’s and doumeki’s next *real* sex scene will be more like hard-core passionate sex or will we see a new type of gentle and passionate one? Post-time skip doumeki is giving me much more of a hardcore, passionate but still loving sex vibe but who knows he’s still being too persistent on the “yashiro, do you want me to be gentle?” thing so I really don’t know.

Day Runs Until Night Catches It

That’s an interesting question. What I’m seeing in these latest rounds is how much they’re still both in conflict INSIDE THEMSELVES, despite appearances otherwise.

Yashiro has been impotent, and has finally only started to get it up for Doumeki again. That alone must be frightening for him to confront how hard ‘other men’ are now, and how ‘comfortable’ promiscuity doesn’t work for him anymore. He’s fine with Doumeki thinking whatever he wants, if it delays the fall of the hammer.

Doumeki WAS impotent, and has finally made himself into the man he thought Yashiro wanted. It must be frustrating for Dou to still be unclear on what it is Yashiro actually wants. Doumeki is fine with Yashiro thinking whatever he wants, if it brings the hammer fall a little closer.

I hesitate to predict that it will be explosive. If only because whatever it is that actually happens between them, it’s always devastating to their emotional barriers and inner personal constructs, without the need for any roughness whatsoever. It’s not really been ‘explosive’. It’s always Dou giving and Yashiro taking, whether he wanted to precisely or not. I think the probing and the questioning Dou is doing is still very much trying to figure out what Yashiro actually wants from him.

These are two very tremulous hearts, and they are — despite all the machismo, eh? — still feeling each other out after four odd some years.

I expect Doumeki to be himself, but what I find interesting is that maybe Doumeki is driving a little more than before, and maybe driving Yashiro to some place of utter shattering. Because all he wants to do is pick up the pieces.

Finally the only truly important thing anyone needs to know about Doumeki and his passion and the quality of his D, is this:

Doumeki is a Scorpio.

It’s not like, one night with Doumeki turned a hardcore cum bucket, into an impotent and pining (but still deeply confused) man. One night made Yashiro rethink and change some of his wicked, wicked ways.

Dou is not the scorpion type, he’s the eagle type of Scorpio. So there is nothing, nothing that will get me to believe that Doumeki will harm Yashiro. He’s asking because he’s genuinely trying to understand.

“Do you want me to be gentle, or do you want me to take control?” He is trying to get to what Yashiro needs. I like that he is bold about his questions. Probing in his observations. Relentless in pushing Yashiro, where he wasn’t as bold before. I actually love that growth in him.

I know people love to debate the dubcon in their last sexual encounter, but between them, there is another language, another way of communicating. One that really does have its own syntax, grammar and such. And just that question alone, should indicate, Doumeki is still molding himself in to whatever kind of man Yashiro needs to be whole.

I find it interesting, that despite himself, Yashiro is also reshaping himself into someone that can allow himself to be loved by Doumeki. Because that is in fact the key, innit?

In this kind of context, I refuse to believe there is going to be further ‘sexual damage’ done to Yashiro.

This story is about the serpentine and Byzantine paths we take to emotional healing through both the worst kind of trauma and subsequent dissociative living so many folks are forced to endure to survive.

The end, for Saezuru, is in some form of healing… and for Yashiro that is going to happen through sex.

Regardless of all his previous debauchery, it is in this sex with Doumeki he will finally heal. And no wonder it terrifies him so and he’s been running.

Where I come from the old people say, “Day does run til night catch it…”

Yashiro can only run so far from this relationship with Doumeki. Healing has a funny way of showing up. For all survivors. If you open the door even a crack to it, it will flood the darkest room with sunshine you’re not prepared for and which really, really, hurts.

My Dou Dou is going to get him through. I have faith. Eagles know how to ride the wind.

(I actually want Yashiro to give Doumeki pleasure… that would please me greatly. In giving pleasure and receiving it, we will find evidence of Yashiro’s healing.)

[makeste]

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids​ for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

[lov3nerdstuff]

I've got you

*James Conrad x reader*

Parts: Oneshot/Drabble

Words: 1.7k

Prompt: "Imagine being on Skull Island (or somewhere equally as fucky) and Conrad shines a flashlight out into the darkness, only for several pairs of eyes to reflect back. His hand tightens around yours and every muscle in his lean body tenses. That deep voice gets low and quiet, warning you not to run. The second you try to bolt--because duh-- he tugs you against his firm chest and his lips are on your ear."

A.N.: This is a gift for @hopelessromanticspoonie who had this idea yesterday 💚✨ She (and her lovely anon) deserve some Conrad goodness! I hope you guys enjoy this quick little snippet 🖤 I am actually writing a longer Conrad series currently, but that will still take a while ☺️

______________________________

The low growling sounds outside your tent should have been warning enough, had they already sufficed to wake you up in the first place. If not that, then at least the distant screeching that carried through the cold night air at a bone-chilling frequency, haunting echoes in your mind filling the silence in between.

You should never have left your tent, should never have come on this bloody excursion to the middle of nowhere in the first place! But of course, you just had to be curious and go check on the noise by yourself instead of waiting for one of the men with the heavy guns to take care of it. Just had to prove to them that you weren't just the frail and frightened little thing they saw in you no matter what you did. You had to prove it to him. James Conrad, the man of both your daydreams and sleepless nights. Gods, you had been falling for him from the first day of this doomed mission. Him, with his incredible blue eyes and that unforgettable voice that could put the fear of God into every soul when he bellowed commands across any battlefield, and that yet would recite Shakespeare in the softest flowing melody like he was born to do nothing else. A voice dipped in liquid sin that should not be uttering compliments like languished breaths in the dark. Not without unravelling you softly in the sweetest torture known to man.

Well, you should have gotten a grip on yourself and your pathetic insecurities and just told him how badly you'd fallen for him days ago. Now, however, you were going to die lonely and frustrated, a mere hundred yards away from the well protected camp you'd been stupid enough to leave. Great job, idiot…

The same growling that had woken you up was all around you now, louder, so much louder than before and you couldn't believe that you had been so stupid to walk into this trap of… whatever was lurking in the darkness around you now. You didn't dare to move, didn't dare to make a sound… and simply clung onto the childish belief that if you couldn't see what was stalking you right now, it couldn't see you either. Not that you would've been able to see much anyway, with the stream of tears that was running down your cheeks now.

"Y/n! Are you out of your mind?! You shouldn't be out here alone in the middle of the night!" Conrad's scolding voice behind you, in that delicious British accent nevertheless, sent an immediate shiver down your spine, but unfortunately for more than one reason this time around. Gods, he was here… you only hoped that he had come as your salvation and not a second course to the hidden predators' nightly meal.

"James… They're everywhere, in the darkness… I'm so sorry." You whispered in a tear laced voice, too far frozen in your fear to turn around to him even when you felt his radiant presence coming up right next to you. So close that his warmth was almost seething on the chilled skin of your arm and shoulder. Gods… you had been so stupid indeed; you were absolutely bloody frightened and helpless out here, who had you been trying to fool!

When Conrad finally switched on his flashlight to shed some literal light onto the darkness ahead that you were still staring at relentlessly, you barely held back your startled scream by biting down hard on your bottom lip. There were eyes, so many eyes that reflected the light right back at you from the undergrowth in a glowing hollowness that spoke of nothing but hungry fixation and thus, impending death. Conrad next to you tensed in an instant, every muscle in his lean body coiling in a display of controlled strength, preparing to fight and defend himself. Or rather to defend both of you, for not even a broken second later his hand wrapped tightly around your lower arm as if purely on instinct, and your breath caught in your throat in return. A few deafening heartbeats long you both stayed frozen like that, until slowly, painfully, deliciously slowly, his hand slid down your arm to hold your hand instead, interlacing your fingers with his in the same unfaltering, strong hold.

"Don't move…" He drawled under his breath, commanding you with the deep tone of his voice alone to surrender his will no matter what he said. Thus you could only clasp his hand in a death grip in return, breath coming out in shallow pants as your heart thundered in your chest like the storm approaching in the distance.

And yet, when another loud growl announced that these beasts were drawing closer to you still, almost up your neck already with their teeth or claws sunk deeply into your tender flesh, the sound startled you so far beyond your reason that your flight instinct grew unbearable at last. Every fibre in your body burst in panic, and you bolted without thought, without reason, but you did not get far. Fast as lightning to match the thunder in your heart, Conrad's arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you flush against his chest, holding you tightly against his strong body while your excess adrenaline merely caused you to whimper into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Shhh... I've got you." His voice was surprisingly soft now, reassuring and calming almost as if just to soothe your fears, while the gentle brush of his lips against the shell of your ear caused you to shiver for entirely different reasons. A soaring heart and tingling exhilaration made for an odd mix combined with the prominent fear of death, but in the end it only heightened your every sense to the incredible. If you were to die now, you at least would do so wrapped up in the arms of the man you loved. La petite mort, only in the opposite direction of what you would have wanted for him and you.

"James…" You breathed into his chest, desperately trying to keep yourself from trembling too noticeably, which only made him tighten his hold on you with a sharp intake of breath.

"Shush now, darling, and listen to me…" He replied in an equally quiet tone, still staring into the hollow eyes of death with his head so closely next to yours. "I will throw the flashlight ahead into the forest as far as I can to cause a decent distraction, and then you and I will run back to camp without turning back. We should be safe behind the barriers we've set up. Do you understand?"

You nodded slowly with a shuddering breath, then turned your head ever so slightly to glance up at him with all those sharp lines of his stern features, while at the same time he dropped his arm from around you and instead took a tight hold of your hand again. Then in the matter of broken seconds, he threw the flashlight as far away from your path as he could, and finally dashed off back towards your camp while pulling you along by your hand. You were quick to comply, running as fast as you could while your lungs burned all the more, but both Conrad's death grip on your hand and the howling behind your back made for a magnificent motivation to keep running either way.

The hundred yards still were torture to your mind and body, but even without the light you could see the barriers drawing nearer and nearer. When you finally reached the gate of the improvised defenses, Conrad didn't waste any time to rush you through before it was barred off from the inside right behind you. The howling, however, remained right outside before the gates and still made your blood freeze over even now from the safety of your camp. Good gods… you really had cheated death. Again.

Panting, you finally dared to look up at Conrad once more. He was still clutching your hand as if he was afraid you would vanish if he let go, and when his burning gaze met yours in that undivided intensity, you couldn't keep your lips from trembling, nor your words from spilling over at last. "I'm so sorry, I… I really didn't mean to cause you so much trouble, I'm so sorry, I just… wanted to prove to you that I'm worth your-..."

You didn't get any further when his hand rose to cup your cheeks with a start, elegant fingers entangling in your hair as he pulled you close to him and pressed his lips to yours in every bit of passion and urgency you had been yearning for for so long. It took you but a broken second of surprise before you melted against him with a faint moan, returning everything he gave you and everything you had beyond. This was heaven… A heaven you were granted only after surviving in hell.

When you finally pulled back, both breathless far more thoroughly than just from your run, Conrad leaned his forehead against yours so very gently, and yet refused to release you from his incessant hold. "You are worth all there is and more, darling. I can bear absolutely anything for you, and with you, you must know that. All except for losing you."

"I'm so sorry." You breathed, eyes closed as you revelled in the roaring waves of unadulterated affection washing over both of you now. "You won't lose me, I… I won't let that happen. I've got you just the same."

Your words brought a smile to his face, you could feel it all around you, could feel it against your lips a second later. He wasn't a man of many words, you knew that, but the ones he spoke were always the most beautiful and honest to his soul. So you did know indeed, you both had each other and that was all you would need.

______________________________

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[edenmemes]

horizon zero dawn starters

❝  you can sense it. you already know you’re going to lose.  ❞ ❝  did you want to be alone?  ❞ ❝  you wouldn’t be so eager to speak with me if you knew me.  ❞ ❝  that will draw attention. we won’t have this place to ourselves for long now.  ❞ ❝  it’s a world worth fighting for. not just here. everywhere.  ❞ ❝  trying to live up to glorious pasts has a way of getting people killed.  ❞ ❝  never celebrate a victory before it’s earned.  ❞ ❝  i crave vengeance. do you?  ❞ ❝  my comrades weren’t so lucky. i might shed a tear, if they weren’t all cutthroats and cheaters.  ❞ ❝  i’ll always have a minute for you. maybe even two.  ❞ ❝  you walk on the edge of life and death. i can tell.  ❞ ❝  what is a gift but an award you did not earn?  ❞ ❝  so many voices to listen to, it must make your head hurt. i promise my voice will be soft and soothing.  ❞ ❝  i wish i could borrow some of your courage now.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few?  ❞ ❝  no one doubts your determination. but you need to rest.  ❞ ❝  a bold claim. i wonder if you’ll live up to it.  ❞ ❝  why would someone name a knife?  ❞ ❝  so you’re alive ! we should celebrate! drinks on me!  ❞ ❝  try not to forget me, while you’re out there saving the world.  ❞ ❝  when we spoke earlier, you winced, then looked like you were in pain - or frightened.  ❞ ❝  i’m really not one for crowds.  ❞ ❝  so - how are we gonna do that? oh, wait, i forgot. we won’t. i do all the dangerous stuff.  ❞ ❝  i knew there was something about you. hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of.  ❞ ❝  no matter what happens, i will not intervene. do you understand? you are on your own.  ❞ ❝  it’s always a pain in the neck when you show up, girl, one way or another.  ❞ ❝  you’re bleeding, let me have a look. here, hold still.  ❞ ❝  just don’t think this means i enjoy it.  ❞ ❝  i don’t want to jinx it, but we might be in the clear.  ❞ ❝  when i start a fuss, i like to finish it.  ❞ ❝  i promise to look solemn at your funeral before i hit the bar.  ❞ ❝  what could go wrong? turns out, a lot.  ❞ ❝  let me come with you! i won’t be a bother. i know how to stay out of sight.  ❞ ❝  now i’m supposed to fill ____’s shoes. and instead, here i am, stumbling around in them.  ❞ ❝  we need to talk - alone. and you need to pull it together.  ❞ ❝  i guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do, right?  ❞ ❝  oh, are you going to shut your mouth now? because that would be a surprise.  ❞ ❝  i will come to you in secret. no one will see me, so i won’t get in trouble.  ❞ ❝  it looks like something chewed you up and spat you out.  ❞ ❝  these are the true wilds, with threats unlike any you have ever faced.  ❞ ❝  that moment the door opened and you were standing there, and the way you smiled... i had to look away or you were going to see. on my face. what had just... blossomed inside me, you know?  ❞ ❝  i’m not afraid of you - i’m not afraid of anything.  ❞ ❝  stop being evasive? you might as well tell me to stop being charming. it’s impossible.  ❞ ❝  what a waste. at least he died better than he lived.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been looking up at the stars a lot, and the only story i see written across them is that we are small and insignificant and will soon disappear with hardly a trace left behind. it’s a hard story, and i don’t like it much..  ❞ ❝  if i’m going to stand for something, it’ll have to be something i believe in.  ❞ ❝  the strength to stand alone, is the strength to make a stand.  ❞ ❝  soon it’ll all seem familiar. like home.  ❞ ❝  now i see that i was just lucky to get a minute of your time.  ❞ ❝  i know my duty to them - and to you. i’m here. and wherever you go...i will follow.  ❞ ❝  you're really good at making it impossible to like you.  ❞ ❝  i’ve missed our little talks.  ❞ ❝  will change happen at all, while men live in palaces?  ❞ ❝  confidence is quiet. you’re not.  ❞ ❝  you’re not a very convincing liar.  ❞ ❝  i already have all the friends i need. i don’t need the bother.  ❞ ❝  all right, cool your fire. i got nothing to hide.  ❞ ❝  i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago.  ❞ ❝  you will turn back - or bleed. your choice.  ❞ ❝  when we met, i thought i was a big shot talking to a pretty girl hidden away in the middle of nowhere.  ❞ ❝  you would speak ill of the dead? truly you have no shame.  ❞ ❝  truth is, i get lonely once in awhile. there. i admitted it. don’t think less of me.  ❞ ❝  do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?  ❞ ❝  but i don’t know anyone here.  ❞ ❝  come on, stop. you’re going to make me tear up.  ❞ ❝  i feel like i should drop to my knees and worship you.  ❞ ❝  think i’m done? think again. i’ve gotten out of worse scrapes.  ❞ ❝  it’s hard to imagine where we’d be without you - and i don’t want to try.  ❞ ❝  if we’re to fight together on the brink of life and death, i’d prefer to do so with your forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  trust is for fools. it shifts and crumbles like sand.  ❞ ❝  what will you do while i risk my life?  ❞ ❝  you can smile, can’t you? ...no, that’s a grimace.  ❞ ❝  you killed that demon...pulled its guts from the carcass!  ❞ ❝  the sooner you’re gone from here, the better.  ❞ ❝  for now, all you need to know is that i’m a whisper of reason in this howling pit of insanity.  ❞ ❝  i heard the rumors, but i didn’t know for sure until saw you just now. i’m glad to see you’re okay.  ❞ ❝  no barrier can now stay you from your sacred task.  ❞ ❝  i won’t deny i risked your life. but it was the only way.  ❞ ❝  they can’t shoot if they’re dead. keep them busy, i’ll find an angle.  ❞ ❝  comforts are weakness.  ❞ ❝  as for honor, sacrifice-- true sacrifice, the kind rulers know nothing of -- it’s all a fat joke.  ❞ ❝  i’ve been sharpening my blade, anticipating the scent of the fight.  ❞ ❝  you’re not just a traveler. that armor was fitted for you. and the way you hold your bow...  ❞ ❝  i’d expect to see some tomatoes fly, maybe rocks. hopefully not spears. in any case, be ready to duck.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here for the price on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a moment, i was a child again, rapt from stories told by hunters at the campfire.  ❞ ❝  this...attachment to me will only hold you back.  ❞ ❝  whatever you do, don’t let their shabby looks fool you! they’ll kill you as soon as look at you.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i love. and what could be wrong with that?  ❞ ❝  when the arrowhead passes between armor and skin - that’s the place i belong.  ❞ ❝  right. why would i expect an answer? it’s so much more exciting to keep it all a mystery...  ❞ ❝  oh, it’s a story all right, but it takes a while to tell. maybe another time, over a drink or three?  ❞ ❝  why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again?  ❞ ❝  i’ll wager you don’t scare easy - it’s a good quality.  ❞ ❝  there will be people celebrating, and feasting. more than you've ever see in one place.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t bring you here to answer questions. i brought you here to deal with that.  ❞ ❝  ...you’ve...put a lot of thought into this.  ❞ ❝  i do not want to hear this talk from you again. doubt is heavier than a week’s snow.  ❞ ❝  bandits are drawn to here like infection to a wound.  ❞ ❝  i guess you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason.  ❞ ❝  i thought you and i were agreed: only enjoy the killing as much as the challenge.  ❞ ❝  rumors spread like blood.  ❞ ❝  they would steal from us, chase us through the night, laughing.  ❞ ❝  leave it too long, your fingers itch for the bowstring.  ❞ ❝  you’re strong, shrewd, capable... i could use someone like you on my side.  ❞ ❝  you defeated it? alone?  ❞ ❝  grasp your grief. and kill it.  ❞ ❝  at least i’ll have a fire to keep me company.  ❞ ❝  only survivors scar. after everything you’ve been through, you keep going.  ❞ ❝  just stop being evasive and tell me who you really are.  ❞ ❝  i don’t mind putting my worthless ass on the line. but not yours.  ❞ ❝  i’m not here to intrigue you.  ❞ ❝  how about you? who do you think i am? what will you remember of me? ❞ ❝  everything freezing. the ground, the air... me.  ❞ ❝  you lost someone you care about. that leaves a wound. the sort of wound a lot of people don’t recover from.  ❞ ❝  the only thing i know i’m still fighting for is...you.  ❞ ❝  i didn’t earn this mercy, but i will die to make myself worthy of it.  ❞ ❝  to say you have my gratitude feels woefully insufficient. you saved my life.  ❞ ❝  makes you wish you could kill them more than once, doesn’t it?  ❞ ❝  why did you act so strange when we spoke earlier?  ❞ ❝  being smart won’t count for nothing if you don’t make the world a better place.  ❞ ❝  to serve a purpose greater than yourself...that is the lesson you must learn.  ❞ ❝   if a big, meaningful talk is what you’re after, move along.  ❞ ❝  that carcass! what sort of beast was that?  ❞ ❝  what are you doing out here all alone? where are your men?  ❞ ❝  you’ve obviously heard of me. you know what i’m capable of. why do you think this will turn out well for you?  ❞ ❝  there’s so much to discover before the world ends.  ❞ ❝  i couldn’t wait to see you again. it’s like...i’m dead and only come alive when i’m here with you.  ❞ ❝  some even say you have a conscience. how extraordinary!  ❞ ❝  do you always accuse people you’ve just met of lying?  ❞ ❝  if you ever visit, look me up. i’ll show you around, make introductions. it’d be a whole new life, if you want it.  ❞ ❝  it had a name once, not that it matters now. i was born there.  ❞ ❝  i always knew you were different... i think you’re a blessing.  ❞ ❝  no one hears your prayers anyway.  ❞ ❝  this place is difficult even for the prepared.  ❞ ❝  i underestimated you. i won’t make that same mistake again.  ❞ ❝  oh. is that supposed to sound scary or something?  ❞ ❝  look, maybe i shouldn’t say this, but it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this... backwater.  ❞ ❝  were you kept hidden away? did you have overprotective parents or something?  ❞ ❝  hmph. don’t go soft on me.  ❞ ❝  i prefer the company of spirits. or my own.  ❞ ❝  blood spilled calls for blood spilled! if the ground is cursed, then let our vengeance sanctify it.  ❞ ❝  so many people here, all talking at once. how does anyone think?  ❞ ❝  why is it that every time something bad happens to you, someone else tells you something bad that happened to them, as if that makes it any better?  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen armor like yours.  ❞ ❝  the wrongness here jags at me like an arrowhead.  ❞ ❝  when you found me, i was trying to eke out a glorious death. but now a glorious life seems more preferable.  ❞ ❝  tomorrow, may the sun rise on the world.  ❞ ❝  you saved my epitaph from being ‘a fine soldier but a fool of a man’.  ❞ ❝  i don’t think i know you at all. but i’d like to.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like this. it feels...wrong.  ❞ ❝  oh, i’m grateful for this wound. it’s a lesson i won’t forget.  ❞ ❝  you’re a clever one. but not so clever as to heed my warning, i see.  ❞ ❝  not everyone follows the law like you do.  ❞ ❝  how many times have i pulled you from danger by your neck? made excuses for your behavior?  ❞ ❝  for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re coming with me.  ❞ ❝  what have i ever given you but struggle?  ❞ ❝  it’s starting to feel real, you know? that we might actually get out of this place.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never been part of anything. i serve my own interests. always.  ❞ ❝  i apologize for my...behavior. i thought i was dead.  ❞ ❝  look, i don’t even know your story. must be a good one. if you ever feel like telling it, look me up.  ❞ ❝  when my anger has thawed, i will feel nothing.  ❞ ❝  i can’t remember when i had this much fun! i should be thanking you!  ❞ ❝  you gave him a quicker death than he deserved.  ❞ ❝  that...could be the last creepy thing you’ve said to me.  ❞ ❝  something’s really bothering you. if you think i’m gonna abandon you, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  surprised you saw me, the way you keep looking every other direction to make sure no one’s watching. careful there, or you’ll sprain your neck.  ❞ ❝  remember how the blood pounded in your ears? they’ll ring later, in the calm. it’s a call to arms, from your inner desires.  ❞ ❝  ___’s dead. i was ready to go through anything to make that happen. and i did.  ❞ ❝  is there a reason why you’re acting so cranky today?  ❞ ❝  you hold your grief close, like a tailsman.  ❞ ❝  i hope you can find peace.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know who i am, do you?  ❞ ❝  you know there’s always been dirt on my hands. now there’s blood too.  ❞ ❝  i want to be strong like you. but...  ❞ ❝  i hadn’t given up on hope, but i’ve forgotten the taste of it.  ❞ ❝  just...don’t start singing again.  ❞ ❝  you’re sparing me? after all i’ve done?  ❞ ❝  i don’t intend to die today.  ❞ ❝  it will take many good deeds to make up for the crimes you’ve committed.  ❞ ❝  but why should you have justice, and not me?�� ❞ ❝  such a voice... a cold, awful jangle that scrapes your bones and hollows your guts.  ❞ ❝  one more word, and i’ll throw you in jail myself.  ❞ ❝  only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life.  ❞ ❝  the war changed you. changed us both. we’re not kids anymore.  ❞ ❝  i can’t sleep, i can’t breathe knowing you could be out there...hurting...  ❞ ❝  now i’m left to wear my sins. for me, at least, they hang heavy.  ❞       ❝  but what does a girl like you know of loss?  ❞ ❝  it’s a good thing you’ve got brains. because your personality could use some work.  ❞ ❝  i was going to ask you to leave with me...to go somewhere out in the sun where no shadow could reach us.  ❞ ❝  they didn’t need to disgrace my name. i did it myself, serving a rotten throne. ❞ ❝  you don’t approve? well, i have a secret for you. neither do i.  ❞ ❝  perhaps you are not an evil man. just a weak one.  ❞ ❝  losses can feel... overwhelming. but they remind us of our connections to others.  ❞ ❝  i don’t exactly see anyone beating down the door to spend time with you.  ❞ ❝  if i had known, i would never have spoken to you.  ❞ ❝  forge a new life. one of better make.  ❞ ❝  impossible odds, fine company, killing without consequence --- how could i resist?  ❞ ❝  look at me. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but you don’t have to go through it alone.  ❞ ❝  i wish i had known, all this time, what you were going through.  ❞ ❝  i’m with you. until the end.  ❞ ❝  i thought you just wanted to have tea and conversation! is there a battle coming? i wasn’t informed!  ❞ ❝  we’ve only met a few times, and yet you know me so well.  ❞ ❝  are you going to drive me off, too? it’s okay. i’ve dealt with worse.  ❞ ❝  now i know the kind of person i want to be, watching you.  ❞ ❝  it’s so...bittersweet. like a smile through bloodied teeth.  ❞ ❝  i swear i saw my ancestors... they said: ‘we’re not surprised to see you here’.  ❞ ❝  more mercenaries? what kind of person sells their loyalty?  ❞ ❝  keep moving or you’ll die!  ❞ ❝  this is the kind of place you’d take someone if you want to lose them forever.  ❞ ❝  if that’s destiny, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone.  ❞ ❝  i’ve thought about what you said. every time, the wound you gave me caught on my ribs.  ❞ ❝  i’ve never seen such disregard for personal safety.  ❞ ❝  the most important thing is what you’re not like - your father.  ❞ ❝  i’m never lonely where there’s killing to be done.  ❞ ❝  my past - and my secrets - are my own. you’ll do well to remember that.  ❞ ❝  only to you do i extend the courtesy of a warning.  ❞ ❝  if the war’s not over, i’m not done.  ❞ ❝  a long kiss, the best kind... i can still remember the feel of your hand on the back of my neck.  ❞ ❝  it would be a worse fate to bow our heads to the challenge and say, ‘too much’.  ❞ ❝  let’s not say farewell. i’ve had enough of that to last me a dozen winters.  ❞ ❝  have your wounds even had time to heal?  ❞ ❝  you can stop worrying. the secret’s safe with me.  ❞ ❝  just to be clear, i have no plans to murder you, alright?  ❞ ❝  you’re an idiot. a dangerous idiot, but an idiot.  ❞ ❝  i’m kicking myself for not seeing your potential from the beginning.  ❞ ❝  for your sake, you must go where you will never find me. this is goodbye.   ❞ ❝  so that’s what this is? a tantrum? a cry for attention?  ❞ ❝  change won’t come in a single sunrise.  ❞ ❝  this place may not seem like much, but we’ll make the best of it.  ❞ ❝  no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking.  ❞

[gtgrandom]

“Why I ship Zutara - since so many are inclined to believe it’s a Zuko fetish”

Is Zuko my favorite animated character of all time? Why yes, yes he is. Do I identify with Katara as a barrier-breaking feminist and woman of color? Yes, yes I do. Is that why I ship them together? No.

Look, when I first watched ATLA, I was 7 years old. I don’t remember shipping anyone, but I didn’t hate that Aang and Katara ended up together. They were cute! It’s whatever.

When I rewatched the show at 13, I still thought Kataang was cute, but I ended the series shipping Zutara, and as the years went by, they rose higher and higher on my list. Now they’re my #1 OTP.

So why do I ship them?

1) They’re two sides of the same coin. Both of them grew up too fast with the loss of their mothers. Both grew up under an elder’s influence. Both of them constantly fought to prove their worth to their peers, and both held resentment toward their fathers. Both spent the entire series improving their bending and incorporating each other’s bending styles into their own.

They have so much in common, and so many shared experiences and important bonding moments (defeating Azula together, Zuko saving her life, confronting Yon Rha together, the cave scene / turning point, their battle at the North Pole...)

2) They’re opposites. Fire and Ice. Sun and Moon. Passionate male energy and the soothing, healing touch of a woman (and her chilling bite). Realism and hopeful idealism. The Blue Spirit and the Painted Lady.

Zuko grew up without a healthy sibling or father relationship. Katara eventually obtained both of these. Zuko lived in an elite world surrounded by people and bending teachers, yet he felt alone. Katara grew up on an ice cube with no bending masters, but she loved her home and family.

The parallels go on and on.

3) Symbolism. They could have embodied the Cave of Two Lovers perfectly: benders separated by cultural divide, a cave to meet in secrecy where outside conflicts are put on hold, allowing them to grow closer, to love one another.

Plus, what better way to bridge two nations with seemingly irreparable tensions than a marriage between lovers? These two went from enemies to partners in crime to friends. Imagine if they’d fallen in love. Imagine a water bender as Fire Lady, and what influence she could have on the Fire Nation’s perceptions of the Water Tribe. Imagine the prejudices she could shed herself, living in this new culture, serving its people.

4) They’re good for each other. Zuko needs someone who can help him shift his nation’s perceptions of the world. He needs someone who can take on responsibilities of her own, rally a crowd, bring hope to his world, and not only become a mother to his children, but his people. He needs a woman who, like his mother, can encourage him to be the best version of himself.

Katara needs to feel useful. She needs to feel like she’s helping people and making a difference. She needs to be more than a wife or a mother. More than a traveling companion. She‘s a caretaker, but she’s also a leader, and she needs a mature man in her life who she can leave alone, unattended for a while. Someone she can speak to about harsh realities. Someone who will not judge her for feeling negative. Someone who will understand her sarcasm, and who will vent with her when she needs it.

5) I have always shipped them for their potential, not necessarily what we were fed in the show. So I understand how others don’t see it. But as a writer, I recognize that this pairing could have been an extremely valuable storytelling tool. Aaron saw that, the actors saw that, but Bryke wanted Kataang, so we got the typical “hero gets the girl” scenario. I get it. I just wish they would have gone the extra mile.

6) I don’t ship Kataang anymore

Aang is 12 years old. He’s a child (and a monk). That’s what makes the series work, why his victory is so powerful. His youthful innocence is a reoccurring theme throughout the series. And yes, he learns to accept many hard truths of the world, but in the end, he chooses mercy and idealism. As an adult, I can’t see him as anything but a child. And I don’t ship children. I definitely don’t want to see them make out with anyone 😷

Katara acts like his mother for most of the series. She’s his caretaker first and foremost. And it’s clear she loves him, but she’s not even sure how she feels about him several episodes from the finale of the series. I’m not about to act like their relationship wasn’t romantically coded, but it felt forced at the end. It felt like they set Katara up to be his mother more than his partner. It’s regressive to her feminist arc (and don’t get me started on Korra’s depiction of her!)

And yeah. I did not find 12 year olds attractive when I was looking forward to my first year of high school. If I had the choice between Aang and Zuko at her age, you bet your ass I’m swooning over the prince of the Fire Nation. 🤷🏻‍♀️

7) I really don’t ship Maiko. I love Mai as a character (gray characters are always fun). But her relationship with Zuko formed off-screen (never a good choice for a romance arc) and she was only ever regressive to Zuko’s character. She was never going to help him grow, to be a selfless leader, to consider the importance of other nations or the lower class (she jokes about ordering servants around for fun, big yikes). She couldn’t be a positive influence on Zuko until she had an enlightened journey of her own, which she didn’t get - her only arc revolved around Azula and her love for her boyfriend. She was a source of constant negativity and pessimim. That’s the last thing a leader of a war-torn nation needs.

So yeah. I’m not trying to convince anyone to ship my ship. I’m simply explaining why I love these two so much (since so many of you think it’s a bad boy fetish), and why I reject the pairings the show left us with.

I think Zutara would have created a stronger narrative for a near-perfect show, a better romance, and a more relatable protagonist, and no one will ever change my mind about that.

[trynatalktou]

Chayenzo prompt: flirty Luca and jealous Vincenzo 👀

Thankk uu

This was prompted to me more than a week ago but I was waiting for today's episode. We were robbed quite frankly.

Also for the sake of understanding, let's pretend both Cha-young and Luca are fluent in english while Vincenzo is profusely not.

I think there is something uniquely comic about a trio where they don't all speak the same languague but, simultaneously, where any pair combination can communicate to each other.

Especially in a show with the Tower of Babel symbolism such as Vincenzo.

ao3

The one where Luca arrives earlier than expected.

‘’Vincenzo Cassano는 어디에서 찾을 수 있습니까?’’ speaks the robotic voice on his phone, echoing through the corridors of Geumga Plaza.

The man in front of him - the one who attempted to sound stern in broken english merely seconds ago - breaks into a grin.

‘’Mr.Consigliere?’’

Luca is taken back for a moment but ultimately nods. It seems that, after all, Vincenzo truly made more allies here than even himself could have expected.

The man continues in equally broken italian, speaking a pastiche of a phrase that originally intended to mean i’’Follow me! Mr. Cassano is not yet here but you can wait for him in Ms. Hong’s office.’’

And surely enough, located at the end of the corridor - there it was - the Jipuragi law firm, owned by the one and only Miss Hong Cha-young. Oh, Luca has heard about her alright, quite an absurd amount considering it came from the words of one Vincenzo Cassano - particularly when every so often these words would sound so strikingly like gushing- not that he has ever dared to tell him that.

They were received promptly at the door by a man with glasses - recognizing him to be Mr. Nam, their paralegal - Luca quickly presented himself with the best korean pronunciation he could manage after picking up a thing or two from his friend and boss.

It was followed by loud gasps.

‘’Luca?’’ Three voices said in unison.

He turned his head around to capture the origin of the third voice. And saw the very woman he was wondering about stumble around to get to them - huh, she is certainly cute.

‘’Welcome Luca, my name is Hong Cha-young, it’s a pleasure to meet you. These are Mr. Nam, our paralegal and Mr. Ahn, our personal secret agent.’’ she says in perfect english, extending one hand for him to shake it and motioning vaguely to the pair with the other.

He takes her hand and bows to the other two simultaneously, making his position slightly awkward.

‘’Sorry, I am not used to the korean way of greeting just yet.’’ He apologizes, facing her again.

‘’It’s quite alright, this handshake seems to be perfectly adequate.’’ She responds playfully.

‘’Your english is quite good, Cha-young-’’ he watches her eyes widen ‘’Oh, I’m sorry, I completely forgot, you see in Italy the first-name basis is given out more freely, I’m sorry for overstepping-’’

‘’Don’t worry, it’s fine really.’’ She interrupts him ‘’I called you Luca after all - it is just that I’m not very used to it.’’ she laughs weakly ‘’but you can call me Cha-young, I don’t personally mind it.’’ she finishes by winking at him exaggeratedly.

He laughs.

‘’I’ve heard quite a lot about you, Cha-young’’. He says cautiously.

‘’What can I say, my reputation precedes me.’ she simply shrugs ‘’bearing in mind your source, may I assume it’s all bad?’’

‘’It’s all good.’’

Cha-young beams; turning to Mr. Nam and Mr. Ahn - who were until this very moment only ping ponging their eyes between the two of them (unable to comprehend a word) - and says something in korean; they share a few words back and forth not long before both of them end up nodding and following their ways, while she leads Luca to a reunion table.

‘’ Luca, would you like anything to drink?’’

‘’No, I’m fine, thank you.’’

She plops on the chair across from him, sipping her coffee and eyeing him significantly.

‘’So,’’ she starts.

‘’So’’ he responds.

‘’What could possibly bring all the way from Italy, Luca?’’

‘’I’m not sure if I am allowed to tell you that.’’

‘’Of course, secretive mafia business, I get it - you see, I may actually know Mr.Cassano better than you might think.’’

He snorts ‘’Somehow, I don’t doubt it.’’

‘’Is there something you know that I don’t, Luca?’’

‘’Perhaps it is the contrary-’’ he pauses contemplative, before continuing ‘’may I ask what is your relationship with Vincenzo?’’

She almost expectorates her coffee out.

‘’Excuse me!’’ she splutters flushing ‘’ What is your relationship with Mr. Cassano?’’

Luca raises his arms to express surrender, he seems frightened enough just by the look in her eyes. She enjoys it greatly.

‘’Well, he is my boss.’’

Cha-young smirks.

‘’And I’m his boss.’’ she tilts her head ‘’Well, sort of.’’

Luca can’t help but dare to smile. ‘’ So may I perhaps ask how long have you known about the whole ‘’secretive mafia business?’’ he air quotes the last words, echoing her.

‘’You sure are full of questions for a mafia man, Mr. Luca.’’

‘’What can I say? You intrigue me Ms. Cha-young.’’

‘’You wouldn’t happen to be flirting with me right now, would you?’’ she says overdramatically, blinking her eyes in rapid succession way too many times.

One for the theatrics as well.

‘’I’m afraid not, I happen to like my head exactly where it sits on my neck’’ he replies with a tone slightly more serious.

‘’I’m not sure I get it’’ she retorts innocently.

‘’I think you do.’’

She blushes prettily.

‘’How come he is not as forward about it then?’’

‘’Maybe, he needs a little push.’’

Both look up at that - only to find an undeniable mischievousness in each other’s eyes.

‘’Maybe he does.’’

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

When Vincenzo arrives at Jipuragi much later, he is not exactly surprised to see Luca there - the man had sent him a text about his connection change - although he can’t say the same for the way that he found Cha-young and Luca giggling together as if they were childhood friends.

He suppresses a smile.

‘’Luca’’ Vincenzo greets loudly. ‘’È passato così tanto tempo, amico mio (It has been so long my friend)’’.

‘’Vincenzo!’’ Luca responds, getting up to embrace his friend. ‘’è bello vederti’’ (it’s good to see you).

Cha-young says something in english, which Luca answers by a subtle roll of his eyes.

Huh.

‘’I see you already made your acquaintance with Ms. Hong’’ he said, considerably more formally than he meant.

‘’Oh yes, Cha-young is quite lovely.’’ he smiles.

‘Cha-young’, he suppresses a scoff, well isn’t that just lovely.

‘’We got to talk quite a bit before you arrived, it seems that we have a lot in common.’’

‘’Oh, is that so?’’

Luca visibly winces at Vincenzo’s bitter tone, but nonetheless, turns himself towards Cha-young and speaks a phrase in english. She bites her lip.

‘’Mr. Cassano.’’ she starts tentatively in korean ‘’I mean, you know that I have do a weak spot for handsome men. Do you think you can set me up?’’

‘’Absolutely not.’’ he snaps ‘’Long-distance relationships are unfortunately not his thing.’’ he finishes hotly. And to his utmost delight - they proceed by sharing, yet again, a few sentences in english. Vincenzo has never wished to have paid more attention to his stupid classes in school than right at this moment.

‘’May I join you both on your conversation?’’ Vincenzo asked snarkily.

Cha-young is quick on her feet.

‘’I was just translating what we said, and besides, what basis do you have to be so upset about it? We also have a right to communicate.’’

Vincenzo looks momentarily ashamed. ‘’It won’t happen again. It is just frustrating to be set apart from the conversation because of a language barrier.’’

‘’Well, don’t I know it.’’ she retorts

Vincenzo sends her his fakest smile.

Cha-young mirrors the expression.

Luca hides a grin.

+

Luca and Cha-young’s mini conversation in english.

1-’’So that’s how you guys greet in Italy, we ought to try it anytime

soon.’’

Luca answers by a roll of his eyes.

2- ‘’Well it wasn’t supposed to be this easy, quick, take the attention out of me.’’

Cha-young bites her lip in thought.

3- ‘’Whatever you said, I think you may have overdone it.’’

‘’I told him that I want a date with you.’’

‘’Glad to know you have no regards for my well-being.’’

‘’Should I say that I don’t care if it is something purely physical?.’’

‘’Glad to know you have have no regards for my life.’’

[thisissirius]

buck deserves good things.

i hope you appreciate how hard it is to get into buck’s head instead of eddie’s ;_; they are so very very different

help

crush(ed) [ao3 link] buck. therapy. buck in therapy. buck/therapy. a little of buck/eddie but that is NOT the focus.

It’s not something Buck chooses to hide, but it becomes easier when he finds a private therapist who seems content to take him on. She doesn’t even bat an eye when he tells her he’ll change his times from week to week depending on shifts. She has no ties to the LAFD and tells Buck it’s up to him whether or not he informs his work place. 

I should, Buck thinks instantly. Then, breathing out slowly, he tells himself, no. 

This is something he wants to keep to himself, for as long as he can. 

It’s not until Buck sees Eddie that he almost caves. They promised each other they’d do better at communication after the lawsuit—and Buck can’t think about it without wincing—but this feels different. He doesn’t have to tell Eddie if he doesn’t want to, that’s the first thing Dr. Copeland tells him. 

“You don’t even know him,” Buck points out. 

“I don’t have to, Evan.” Buck likes the way she says his name. He doesn’t hear it often, not even from Maddie, and it makes him take everything she says seriously—people use his name when it’s important. “The choices here are all yours.”

Buck nods, knows his breathing sounds shaky, but doesn’t care. “Part of me wants to tell him. He’s my best friend. He’s—but I know he’s busy with Chris and he doesn’t need this.”

Dr. Copeland nods. “Do you see yourself as a burden?”

“No,” Buck says immediately. Then, “yes.”

__________________

Loneliness takes him by surprise. 

With Abby, he’s sure he’s found something real, something solid. He isn’t joking when he tells Bobby he thinks he might be a sex addict, but he’s also not telling the whole truth. When he’s having sex with someone, when someone’s with him, the loneliness feels further away. Buck wants to be loved. It’s something his parents told him again and again. It’s something he’s known about himself for a long, long time. 

If he confused affection with love then—that’s nobody’s fault but his own. 

“Is that how you really feel?”

Buck gives her a wry smile. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

Dr. Copeland inclined her head. “A fair point. Though sometimes we say things we think we feel.”

“I had sex with more people than I like to think about,” Buck says, wincing. “Why else would I do it?”

“Some people just like sex.” Dr. Copeland never looks anything but 100% engaged. Buck settles the tablet on the bed, rubs his hands over his knees. “Evan?”

“I don’t know that I do,” he says quickly. When he thinks she might get the wrong idea, he follows it up with, “I mean I do. Just not—enough to have it with that many people.”

Dr. Copeland doesn’t judge him and Buck feels like he can breathe.       

__________________ 

 Buck has a standing date with Maddie every Thursday. Even now, with the pandemic raging around them, they make sure to Zoom and watch something on Netflix. He’s got beer, her, a mug of something she assures him is only tea. “Can I ask you something?”

Maddie looks up, cradling the mug in her hands. “You wanna pause?”

Buck shakes his head. The sound of the movie drowns out whatever’s running through his head. “If I wanted to go to therapy, would you judge me?”

“No,” Maddie says without hesitation. “Why?”

The words get stuck in Buck’s throat. He shrugs to cover the struggle. 

“Buck, I love you. If you need therapy, I will support you.”

Buck clenches his hand around the beer bottle tightly. “The crush that Chim keeps teasing about—”

“You want me to stop him?” Maddie looks so concerned that the rush of warmth Buck feels in his stomach makes it easier to speak. 

“Maybe,” he allows. “It’s not what anyone thinks. Please don’t interrupt,” he asks, when she opens her mouth. “I need to say this. It’s not—she’s a therapist.”

There was silence on the other end of the screen. Maddie’s not angry when he looks, but he’s startled to see tears in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, hand over her mouth. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck stresses. “I just needed you to know.”

“And I’m proud of you,” Maddie finally manages to get out. She drops her hand, wiping at her eyes. “I’m happy you’re getting what you need, Buck. She is helping?”

Buck thinks of how wrecked he feels after a session, how he’ll surround himself with whoever’s in the apartment because he needs the noise. There’s also the sense of comfort that comes from someone hearing him and listening, giving him advice he actually thinks he can follow.

“Yeah,” he says, after a long pause. “She is.”

__________________

“I want to tell Eddie,” Buck says, looking Dr. Copeland in the eye. “But I’m worried about what he’ll say.”

Dr. Copeland took a moment to reply. “His response isn’t on you, Buck. We can only control what we do, how we react. It’s Eddie’s choice.”

“Doesn’t stop me worrying,” Buck pointed out. He thought of Eddie’s resistance to Frank, the barrier he puts between himself and therapy, while simultaneously embracing it on Chris’ behalf. “When it’s Chris, he’s all for it. Thinks it does Chris good. When it’s adult,” Buck adds. “If it’s me? I don’t know.”

“What’s the worst way he could react?”

“Tell me I’m weak,” Buck says, but even as he says it, he knows that’s not something Eddie will ever say. 

Dr. Copeland nodded. “Has he ever given you that impression?”

“No.” Buck bites at his bottom lip. “He’s told me the opposite.”

As if sparing him from talking about it more, Dr. Copeland leans a little further forward. “Your other workmates—Hen and Chim?—how do you think they’d react?”

Buck doesn’t know. “Chim’s been teasing me. Thinks every time I’m up here, I’m talking to a crush.” He flushes, tries not to look at Dr. Copeland. “Every time I try and tell him who I’m actually calling, something stops me. I know they don’t think it’s a bad thing. We’ve all had to have it at some point. The job is hard, you know?”

There’s silence from the other end of the screen and it makes Buck’s screen crawl. The silences always make him desperate to fill them, to throw words at her and hope she makes some sense of what he’s trying to say. 

“Hen?”

It’s hard not to smile. “She’s always been supportive. Always tried to be there for me. Even after I sued the department.”

“She didn’t hold it against you.”

“No,” Buck agrees. “Not like Bobby. Like Eddie.”

“Bobby,” Dr. Copeland says, ignoring Eddie, something Buck’s grateful for. “Your Captain?”

Buck nods, readjusting his position on the bed. “I keep thinking I should have told him. This is something the department should know.”

“Only if you want them to,” Dr. Copeland reminds him. “Sometimes we don’t feel safe enough to talk about our mental health, especially if it’s outside of mandated sessions.”

It doesn’t stop the guilt striking Buck at the worst times. 

__________________

“Can I speak to you?”

Bobby looks up from his desk, surprised. “Buck. Of course.”

Buck feels awkward. He’s only ever really in the office when he’s done something wrong. Taking the seat opposite Bobby, he looks up from under his eyelashes, still nervous. “What happens if someone has therapy that isn’t mandated?”

Staring at him, Bobby rests his elbows on the desk. He’s not a stupid man and Buck doesn’t doubt he already knows what Buck’s trying to say. “The department likes to know,” Bobby says easily, “but it’s not their right to know. You understand?”

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. His skin feels too tight, trapped in the four walls of the office. 

“Look at me,” Bobby says gently. Buck does, realises Bobby looks concerned and not angry. “You alright?”

Buck shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think—I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t tied to the department.”

 Sliding his chair out from the desk, Bobby stood, coming round to stand next to Buck. He hesitates. “You don’t have to explain.”

“After the lawsuit,” Buck starts, tries to ignore the flow of emotions that cross Bobby’s face. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d hate me for—”

“Stop,” Bobby says quietly. He rests a hand on Buck’s arm and Buck starts, standing so quickly the chair skids away from him. Bobby takes his hand away. ”Sorry.”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it. He doesn’t know what his emotions are doing and tries to grasp a hold of one of them. “No I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.”

“Buck.” Bobby reaches out again, and Buck steps into it, feeling awkward when Bobby doesn’t automatically hug him. Oh god. He moves to step away, but Bobby surprises him again, drags him into a hug, hand to the back of his neck. “It’s okay, kid.”

“It’s not,” Buck mutters, bites back the tears but takes the embrace as long as Bobby will let him have it. “But I’m trying to be.”

__________________

Buck’s leg won’t stop moving. He’s been staring at his phone for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for Dr. Copeland to reply. What if she can’t speak to him? Maybe he’ll have to get through this on his own and he’s not sure he knows how to do that without her guidance. 

Mom and dad are coming. 

Just like that. No warning. No asking if it’s okay. Just. We’re coming. 

Buck’s mad and afraid all at once. Maddie’s the same, but she’s got Chim. Buck’s just got this; his apartment, Albert downstairs watching TV, and Eddie on shift. Buck can’t just call. 

When the text comes through, Buck scrambles for his tablet, hands shaking as he answers the call. 

“You sounded panicked, Evan,” Dr. Copeland says. “Is everything okay.”

“My parents are coming,” Buck blurts out, wincing.

They haven’t talked about them yet; Buck knows she’s inferred some stuff, suspected others, but Buck’s never outright talked about them. “That scares you?”

“Yes,” Buck says, laughing nervously. “Angry. They never ask. Just told Maddie they’re coming. She’s pregnant so of course they wanna fix their mistakes and—”

He talks and talks. 

And talks. 

“I don’t want them to come.”

Dr. Copeland nods. “You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to.”

“I can’t leave Maddie alone,” Buck protests. “Maybe,” he starts, pauses. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“You have support, Evan,” Dr. Copeland says, and it doesn’t feel like she’s patronising him. “You have friends, co-workers. Any of them would understand.”

Buck doesn’t think so. “They’re not bad parents,” he says. 

Dr. Copeland pauses for a moment. “There are different ways to be bad parents.”

__________________

Buck’s working out, pent up aggression flowing from fists to punch bag. 

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

It’s not that he’s avoiding Eddie. It’s just hard, sometimes, to know he’s holding something of himself back from Eddie. “My parents are coming.”

Eddie stays silent as he punches through some more of his emotions. “My parents tried to take Chris.”

Buck pauses, drops his arms. “What?”

Staring at the ground, frowning, Eddie looks as if he’s far away, probably wherever, or whenever, this happened. “Thought I was dragging him down with me.”

“That’s bullshit,” Buck says immediately, suddenly angry on Eddie’s behalf. Eddie looks up, surprised but pleased, trying to cover it. “It is, Eddie, you know that, right?” 

“I didn't,” Eddie admits. “Not for a long time.”

 Buck presses, “but you do now?” He doesn’t know why it’s important that Eddie knows it. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, with a certainty Buck doesn’t always expect from him. “Until I came here.”

“Good.” Buck doesn’t know what Eddie’s trying to get at. “Why tell me that now?”

“I’m a good father because I taught myself to be,” he says, and Buck doesn’t understand. “Sometimes our parents don’t do a good job. Sometimes we love our parents, or we don’t. But we don’t have to agree with everything they do, either.”

Buck works off the gloves. “Okay.”

Stepping into his space, Eddie wraps a hand around the back of Buck’s neck and squeezes. “You can tell them to fuck off.”

Buck laughs, grateful, and drops his head forehead, touching Eddie’s. Eddie closes his eyes and Buck does the same, revels in the touch. “I haven’t seen them in so long. I’m a disappointment.”

“Not to me,” Eddie says, voice full of emotion. 

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck says. 

__________________

“I think I’m going to go to dinner,” Buck says. Dr. Copeland doesn’t say anything, so he nods, as if to make a point. “Maddie needs me.”

__________________

It’s a disaster. 

Buck knows, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, that it won’t go any other way.

“So,” Phillip says. Buck doesn’t know when he stopped referring to his parents as mom and dad. Sometimes he feels like he’s a separate entity, apart from all family. Except Maddie. Maddie’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a mother, a sister, a role model. Until she— “how’s working with Evan, Howard?”

“Fine,” Chim says, frowning. “He’s good at his job.”

“He should be,” Phillip says, raising his eyebrows. “We didn’t raise him to slack off.”

“You didn’t raise me at all,” Buck says, the words tripping off his tongue. He sits a little straighter, anger blossoming through his chest. 

“Don’t be disrespectful,” Margaret says, narrowing her eyes. “You will speak to your father properly.”

Buck’s courage seems to dissipate.

“Dad, Mom,” Maddie says, pleading. “Buck’s doing the best he can. He’s even going to therapy!”

Instantly, she knows she’s said something wrong, and Buck shifts in his heat, panic overriding the anger. 

“You’re in therapy?” Phillip’s tone drips with condescension. 

“The job can be hard,” Buck admits, unable to look anywhere else but at Phillip. “I just needed to talk to someone.”

Phillip looks disappointed. As if he’s ever looked anything but. “Weakness has always been your problem.”

“Hey,” Chim starts, stepping forward. 

“No,” Buck says, putting his glass on the table. “Say what you need to, Phillip. Why is therapy such a weak thing?”

“No Buckley—” 

“What would you know about it?” Buck snaps. “Do you know how long it’s taken to admit to anyone that I’m in therapy? Because of what you drilled into me! You’re gonna stand there and tell me there’s something wrong with it?”

“Yes,”  Phillip says, tone hard. “I thought we were done with this attitude.”

“Dad,” Maddie starts. 

“No,” Buck snarls. “Let him talk, Maddie. Can’t wait to see how I fucked up this time.”

“Evan!”

“It’s Buck,” Buck yells. Now he remembers why nobody calls him Evan. “Nothing I did was ever good enough!”

“And it never will be,” Phillip snaps in response. 

Buck draws himself up. “Maybe if you didn’t always leave—”

“Why would we stay?” Kartrina says, her words gentle, and they hit all the harder for it. 

Deflating, Buck doesn’t think he can breathe. It feels like a physical slap and he moves, walking fast away from his parents, away from a past he can’t work his way out of. 

__________________

“It was a disaster,” Buck says later.

Dr. Copeland nods, sympathetic but professional. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Buck does. 

__________________

“I called Eddie,” Maddie says, coming to sit next to him on the back steps. 

Buck wants to be mad about it, but now that the anger’s dissipated, he’s just  tired. Shaking. Shaking because he’s so tired. 

“I messed it up,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Maddie leans against him, wraps an arm around his shoulder and kisses his temple. “I should be apologising to you. I’m sorry I left.”

There’s a burning behind Buck’s eyes and he drops his head, clenching his hands into fists. “I always get left behind, Mads. Always.”

“I know,” Maddie whispers, and Buck loves her all the more that she doesn’t try to correct him.

When Eddie arrives, he looks pissed. He takes one look at Buck’s parents and the anger morphs into something else. A quiet fury. Buck worries that everything’s going to fall apart, but Eddie reins it in—and god, Buck loves him so much—and ignores them. His eyes land on Buck. The fury’s still there, simmering, but it fades behind concern as he crosses the distance between them, crouching down. “Buck.”

It’s just his name, but Buck sobs, emotionally wrung out.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Buck. Buck falls, let’s himself give up on being anything but a mess. “I’ve got you,” Eddie says again, and Buck believes him.

“Evan,” Phillip says. “This is nothing to cry over.”

“Stop it,” Maddie protests. 

Buck ignores them, blinks at the expression on Eddie’s face. 

“Alright?” Eddie asks, voice dipped low. 

“Yeah,” Buck starts, but is cut off by his mother. 

“If this is what therapy has done—” 

“You wanna know something,” Eddie snaps, climbing to his feet. Buck’s chest is tight with worry, but Eddie stays close to Buck, between him and his parents. “You wanna know why Buck needs therapy? Where the hell have you been?”

Phillip frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your son,” Eddie snarls, “was almost killed. Twice. A fucking truck crushed his leg, something you couldn’t have avoided knowing about, and yet nothing. Not a word.”

Buck’s oddly fascinated with the way Eddie’s holding himself. Hands clenched, back straight, ever the soldier. But his tone? It goes soft. “Buck’s the best man I know. And no,” Eddie continues, giving Buck’s parents such a look of contempt, “that’s got nothing to do with you.”

There’s that familiar look on Phillip’s face: anger, disgust. “You don’t get to tell me—” 

“I’m a father,” Eddie says. “I have an eight year old son. Buck saved his life.”

“Yes,” Margaret says. “We heard.”

That sets Eddie off again and Buck knows he should step in, should take this out of Maddie’s house, but he can’t seem to make himself move. “You have a problem with Buck?”

“He hasn’t turned out—” 

“Finish that,” Eddie says, his voice a deadly tone. “Please.”

Phillip keeps quiet. 

“Buck’s a credit. Not to you, but to himself. He turned out like this on his own merit. Despite you. Despite being abandoned time and again. He’s strong, kind, compassionate, and I have no idea where he learned to be, because it certainly wasn’t from you!”

Buck’s heart is pounding, blood rushing in his ears. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how.

“He deserves better,” Eddie says, “than anything you can give him now, because you’ve decided a grandchild gives you a second chance.”

Turning his back on Buck’s parents, and just the dismissiveness in that rears the old fear, but Buck tamps it down and Eddie gives Buck a look. “You wanna leave?”

“Buck—” Margaret starts.

Maddie nods her head. He gives her a tight smile.

“Yeah,” Buck says, taking the hand Eddie offers him and standing on wobbly legs.

“It’s alright,” Eddie mumbles. “You’ve got this.”

Buck does. He nods, sharing a long look with Eddie, and then swallows down everything to stand straight. “Sorry, Mads.”

“Don’t be,” Maddie says.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Evan.” Phillip’s expression is tight.

“No,” Buck says, digging deep to find courage. Eddie’s hand squeezes his arm. “I’ll be with Eddie and Chris. I’ll call you. Maybe.”

“You can’t—” 

“He can,” Eddie says.

“He can,” Chim echoes.

“We will not—” 

“It’s alright,” Maddie says eventually. “They’ll be leaving after you.”

Margaret looks shocked. “Madeline—”

“It’s Maddie,” Maddie says. “Eddie’s right. You can’t make up for us,” she says, gesturing between her and Buck, “with my baby.”

  __________________

“How did that feel?”

Buck huffed, not sure how to answer. “Good? But also terrifying. It’s like closing that door completely. It means we’re cut off. Money, name, everything.”

Dr. Copeland hums. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” Buck says. “Some of the money they can’t touch. The name—it’s nice to have it, but I can always change it. I’m still me.”

“I’m proud of you for going,” Dr. Copeland says. “It took strength, Buck.”

“I, uh,” Buck starts, looking around the room, “told Eddie.”

“Oh?” The fact that he can’t detect anything from her tone is a credit. “How did that go?”

Buck sighs. “My mom actually said it, during the fight. I thought he’d hate me for it.”

“Evan—”

The name doesn’t hurt like it had when Phillip used it. “No, it’s okay. I know—I projected that onto him because I was worried. I didn’t want to lose him.”

Dr. Copeland waits. Then, “How do you feel now?”

Scared.

__________________

“I’m sorry,” Buck blurts out. 

Eddie frowns as he shuts off the truck. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t tell you,” Buck says. 

A pause. Eddie looks confused. “You did.”

“Not about my parents.” Buck’s quiet, looks at the house. Chris is inside with Eddie’s abuela. During the height of the pandemic, they’d been together, both vulnerable. When it was safe to go home, Eddie's taken him back to the house, but abuela and pepa both are both taking enough precautions to stay with him when Eddie’s at work. It’s worked for them so far and Buck hopes it stays that way; Chris deserves to be safe. “About therapy.”

When Eddie’s hand lands on his knee, Buck jumps. Before Eddie can take it away, he grasps it. Eddie gives him a soft smile when he looks up. “You don’t have to be sorry. If it’s something I needed to know, you’d have told me.”

Buck lets out a shaky breath, tips his back against the headrest. “I’m messed up.”

“Maybe,” Eddie allows. “Isn’t everyone, a little?”

“I keep getting left behind,” Buck admits, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “My parents. Maddie. Everyone at work. You,” he adds on last, because if he doesn’t get this out, he doesn’t know when he will. “Not now—after Bobby said I couldn’t come back to work. You left me.”

Eddie opens his mouth. It closes quickly and Eddie ducks his head, a flush rising on his cheeks. “I was a shitty best friend,” Eddie admits. 

“We both were,” Buck allows.

“You were crushed by a firetruck,” Eddie protests.

Buck raises his eyebrows. “Your wife died, Eddie. We didn’t talk to each other. I needed you but I didn’t ask.”

Eddie nods, turns his hand around so he can link their fingers together. Buck’s heart skips, doesn’t know what to make of it. Is this something they do now? The lines between them have always blurred, but he doesn't know— “I’ve never had a best friend before.”

“Neither have I.”

“I didn’t know how to ask for help,” Eddie continues, “because I’ve never had someone to ask.”

Buck’s throat is dry. “I make everyone think I’m okay, but inside I’m not. I hide how I’m really feeling.”

“I’m angry all the time,” Eddie admits. “Not so much anymore, but sometimes. It gets so much and I don’t know how to let it go.”

Buck nods, works through what he wants to say before he speaks. “Then maybe tell me when you are. I don’t know what I’ll do, but tell me.”

With a slow breath, Eddie agrees. “And if you need to tell someone how you really feel, text me or call, or I guess, talk to your therapist.”

Buck makes an assenting noise. 

“How do you feel now?” Eddie asks, and Buck realises he’s talking about his parents, the events after dinner. 

“Terrified,” Buck says quietly. “Just Maddie and I.”

“And Chim,” Eddie points out. “Bobby, Athena, Hen. Carla.”

Buck nods, the tension drawing out. “I guess.”

Eddie looks at him, expression saying a hundred different things. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Maybe not,” Buck concedes, “But sometimes I need to hear it.”

“You always have me,” Eddie says. His voice isn’t loud or hard. The words feel too big for the space. “I’m not leaving you, Buck, especially not now.”

Buck nods, closing his eyes. 

__________________

Buck sits back on the couch. “I feel—like I have something to look forward to.”

“I’m pleased.” Dr. Copeland gives him a smile. “How does it feel that everyone knows?”

“Good,” Buck says, thinking it through. “I still hesitate to talk about it, but when I do, they just—accept it. Accept me.”

Silence draws between them, but for once, Buck’s not scrambling for something to say. He feels lighter in places. There’s no magical fix, no cure for the fear and worry that still gnaws at him, sometimes. 

“Being honest isn’t always as scary as I thought it was.”

“No,” Dr. Copeland agrees. 

Buck looks up, to where Eddie and Chris are in the kitchen, the first time they’ve been able to in so long that Buck’s still surprised at the changes in Chris. “I think I could stand to be more honest.”

“And that,” Dr. Copeland says, “Is something we should talk about next session.”

“Not if I tell him first,” Buck says, with a grin. 

Dr. Copeland laughs. “I’ll see you next week, Evan.”

“Bye,” Buck says, waiting until she’s gone to put his tablet down. 

“Okay?” Eddie says, leaning against the door jamb. 

Buck smiles, pushing himself up off the couch. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“Good,” Eddie says, shoving Buck towards the kitchen. “I burnt shit, fix it.”

Buck laughs, dragging Eddie along with him, holding on like a lifeline.

Eddie takes a hold of his hand and doesn’t let go.

[dickgrcyscns]

Drivers License

Drivers License, Hank McCoy

An imagine based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s song “Drivers License”. I tried my best to keep this as gender neutral as possible, if you catch any mistakes please let me know and I will fix it! 

Simple Summary: In which the reader finds that watching the man they love fall for someone else hurts more than anything else.    

Set During: Pre-First Class and First Class. 

Word Count: 1,197 words 

Gif used is not mine! 

“Forever?” Your cheek rested against Hank’s chest, smiling as you felt his chuckle on it. He placed a swift kiss to the top of your head, something he always did when you needed reassurance. Your hands fiddled with each other behind his back, waiting for the verbal response he always gave you. Hank never missed a beat when it came to making you feel better when you had a bad day. He would take your hand in his and tell you everything he liked the most about you. Or he would let you rest your head on his lap, his hand playing in your hair as he read you to sleep. He was everything you had ever wanted in someone. That’s why it hurt you to see him growing closer to the group called the x-men. 

“Forever,” his voice was soft, a soothing hand rubbing circles on your back. You let your thoughts of the x-men go, trying not to think of the people he had been spending so much time with. Because in all reality you couldn’t be mad, it was his first time being around people that had something similar to him. People he could connect to more, connect to better. You tried to understand what it was like for him, truly, you would have done anything to understand better. Anything to show him that you truly cared for him, that it didn’t matter what he looked like. 

But even then, you knew he would never listen to you. Once he had his mind set to something, there was almost nothing you could do to change it. That’s why you never tried to change his plans on creating a “cure” for his mutation. Because in the end it would only lead to more issues, and you didn’t want to fight him over something like that. You hated the feelings that came with fighting, the way that your stomach would drop and lips would quiver. 

Pulling your arms from the spot they had been so content with resting, you sat down on the couch the two of you had bought almost two years ago. Hank looked at you for a while, brows pulling together as you grabbed at the book you only reread when you needed something comforting. You pulled the book closer to your chest, eyes trying to take in the words and failing miserably. No matter how much you wished to be swept up into the world of words in front of you, to be taken away to a universe that didn’t cause any heartache. Because sitting there, with a man who promised you forever, hurt you more than the words had ever done. 

You knew you were loosing him that day he met the x-men. When he came back to you that night, his smile was the same that it was the night you had met. It lightened your heart to see him so happy, but it broke it a little to hear him gush about the blonde woman named Raven. And you understood it the minute you met her. She was older than you, everything you had ever wanted to be. She was confident, strong, and not afraid of speaking her mind. She gave everything to Hank, offering him another way to do the things he’s always wanted to do. That was more than what you had ever been able to do. 

Hank knelt down on the ground in front of you, hand resting on your knee. He tilted your chin down so he could look at you directly in the eyes, “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

You let out a laugh, trying to stop any tears that could have escaped. “I need you to be honest with me Hank.”

“Always.”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do,” Hank blinked a few times, his tone laced in surprise. 

“Are you in love with me?”

“I thought I just answered that,” you looked at Hank with a sad look.

“Are you in love,” a tear slipped past your eye, “with me?”

“Of course I am,” his hand came to rest on your cheek, wiping away at the tear you had sliding down it. 

“Are you in love with her?”

“With who?”

“You know who I’m talking about Hank,” your lip quivered, more tears threatening to spill. “You talk about her all the time and she’s always getting a smile out of you. It’s more than what I can do anymore. You look at her like she’s the moon and all of the stars, once you look at her you can’t stop looking at her. It’s the way you used to look at me, Hank. You love her, don’t you?”

Hank had tears sitting in his eyes as well, which only made your tears come on faster. You had been prepared for this moment, when he finally admitted to something you’ve known for a while. It didn’t make it any easier, although. Seeing him close his eyes and think carefully about what he was going to say broke your heart. Biting your lip, you waited for the words to come from his mouth. 

“I do.”

“Does she?” You faltered at your words. “Does she feel the same way?”

“I don’t know,” Hank let the tears slip past the barriers of his eyes, wiping away at them quickly. He sounded so defeated, so broken, it hurt you more. Had you been keeping him in a relationship he didn’t need to be in? 

“Let me ask this again Hank, and you can be honest with me, are you in love with me?”

He looked up to you, taking your face in his hands. “There will always be a part of me that is in love with you (Y/n).”

“That’s not an answer, Hank.” You let the sob rake through your body. 

He shook his head, “I’m not.”

In that moment you felt your heart take its final hit, crumbling to pieces within your chest. Because he had said forever, but now you were alone. And how were you supposed to get over someone when you were still in love with them? You stood up, grabbing at your coat and a few other things you found to be important enough to grab. With a bag in your hand, you went back to your shared bedroom and grabbed as many clothes as you thought you would need. Hank watched you with a close eye. You grabbed at the bag once it was filled and went to the front door, keys in your hand. 

“Goodbye,” you had to leave, being in that room was suffocating. Seeing everything you had decorated the apartment with broke you, because you had chosen it with the idea of forever in mind. 

“(Y/n), wait,” Hank tried to stop you from walking out the door, trying to save whatever it was you two had left. You loved him, you weren’t sure if there would be a moment where you didn’t love him. But he didn’t love you the same way, he had fallen for someone else. 

And I know we weren’t perfect, but I’ve never felt this way for no one. 

[onenerdtwonagas]

Positive Affirmations

((A while back, somebody asked for the story of the first time Orpheus hypnotized Uriah. I did some thinking on it and I think I finally found the right scenario for it!))

“Are you alright, love?”

Uriah glanced over his shoulder and saw Orpheus looking back at him in the dim moonlight. The human had gotten up, unable to fall asleep, his mind too muddled. He’d carefully untangled himself from the naga’s embrace nearly half an hour before and sat in silence at the edge of his bedding, mindful not to bump any of his coils. Perhaps he hadn’t been cautious enough?

��I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry,” he apologized, voice quiet.

“You didn’t, but your absence did,” Orpheus yawned, pointed fangs catching the light for a moment as he sat up. He rolled his shoulders and neck with a soft crack before looking to Uriah again. Scales whispered against the furs, blankets, and pillows as Orpheus shifted and slithered, coming to rest behind Uriah and putting his arms around him.

“Come back to bed, love...”

“I will, eventually,” Uriah sighed. “You go ahead. You’re tired.”

“Not without you,” he mumbled. The man could imagine the sleepy pout on the naga’s face. Uriah gave one of his hands a gentle pat as he cuddled closer.

“It’s okay, babe. I...just have a lot on my mind.”

“Hmm? Like what?”

Uriah exhaled slowly and Orpheus rested his cheek in his hair. He felt heavier than usual.

“Orpheus, babe, sleep. You’re gonna doze off on me. I’m fine, really.”

“Mmmmnnnooo,” he drawled stubbornly, “not without you.”

“...You’re really not gonna let it go, are you?”

Orpheus shook his head.

“It feels stupid. I hate you even woke up because of it,” Uriah muttered.

“Tell me anyway. You’ll feel better.”

He sighed, loosely holding on to Orpheus’s arms as he tried to find a comfortable way to voice his thoughts.

“I still deal with a lot of the negative stuff from my ex,” he started slowly, quietly. “Not that he’s in my life at all, because I kicked him out and whatever I couldn’t throw in his bags I got rid of, but the feelings. The bad ones. Thinking I’m not good enough, feeling like I don’t deserve you, that sort of thing.”

Orpheus let out a light but somber hum. He turned over one of his hands to hold Uriah’s and interlocked their fingers. It had only been a month or so since they’d admitted their feelings for one another, but perhaps it was naive of the demigod to assume his sweetheart would recover from a painful relationship in such a short time.

“You know you do deserve better, don’t you?”

“Yeah. But knowing and feeling are two different things.”

“Yes, they are,” he agreed. His thumb brushed over Uriah’s. “Is there some way I could help?”

“What do you mean? Like, play therapist for me?” Uriah let out a weak, halfhearted laugh. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. Should probably see a shrink, though...”

“I don’t know what that is, but I was thinking I could try and do something for you. Maybe I could help you forget?”

“With...hypnosis, I’m guessing?” Uriah asked hesitantly.

“I could, you know,” Orpheus offered.

“...Nah. I don’t think I should forget what happened. Move past it and stop internalizing, but forgetting would mean leaving myself open to that kind of manipulation again,” Uriah reasoned. “Can’t protect myself from something I no longer remember, right?”

Orpheus hummed thoughtfully. He did have a point.

“What about affirmations?”

Uriah turned slightly, looking at Orpheus skeptically.

“You plan on flattering me through this?”

“Flattery is excessive. Affirmation is confirming what is true. I think you could use a dose of truth to clear out those negative falsehoods, don’t you?” he asked, cradling Uriah’s hand between two of his own. “Especially if they’re keeping you from proper rest, love.”

“You...wanna use your hypnosis to try this?”

“Only if you’d permit me.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever used yours on me, before.”

“Does the idea frighten you?”

“No,” he answered slowly, “not really? I-I’ve, uh, let Kenny hypnotize me plenty of times.”

He blushed as Orpheus’s eyebrows rose.

“Oh. So you’re familiar with the sensation, then?”

“I-In one way, at least.” Uriah cleared his throat awkwardly. They sat in a moment of odd silence before Orpheus spoke up again.

“Would you let me try, Uriah? At least a little? I only want to help you feel better.”

Uriah bit his lip and squeezed the back of his neck. Hypnosis had a tendency of getting him wound up. It wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but his time with Kenneth had left a bit of a subconscious imprint. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Orpheus by suddenly getting turned on; they weren’t anywhere near ready for that step in their relationship, as attractive as Uriah thought the demigod to be. But...he trusted Orpheus not to take advantage. Maybe he could try it, at least this one time.

“I...I-I guess we can try it...”

Orpheus smiled sweetly and kissed his forehead before rising and gently guiding Uriah back towards the bed. He pulled his coils close, providing a space for the man in the bend of his tail.

“Come here,” he whispered. “Sit.”

Uriah did as he was told, albeit with some apprehension. He swallowed thickly as Orpheus’s strong coils could be felt against his back and sides, supporting him. It would only take a few moments for him to coil around him completely, if he wanted... To be in such a compromising position with him, and with the consent to hypnosis given—

“You’re letting yourself get flustered,” Orpheus chuckled, gently poking him between his eyebrows. Uriah blinked, bringing himself back to focus. He looked up at Orpheus sheepishly.

“I-I-I’m sorry. Usually with Kenny this is sort of a...a-an intimate thing?”

“I told you I’d take things slow with you, and I meant that. I’ll behave myself, dearest, I promise. You trust me to do that, don’t you?”

He reached out and brushed his fingertips along Uriah’s cheek, sliding them down to trace his jaw. The man nodded slowly.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Good. Give me just a moment to channel it, then.”

Orpheus closed his eyes and breathed slowly for several moments. Uriah remained still, wondering what to expect, caught mid-thought by Orpheus’s eyes opening with a pale blue, moonlike glow. His body tensed instinctively, but Orpheus kept his fingers against his face in a gentle touch.

“Shhh. It’s alright. You’re alright,” he hushed. “Just breathe, Uriah...that’s it...”

There was the initial spark of excitement Uriah had almost been conditioned to feel, but Orpheus’s soothing tone and his instructions reigned it back in quicker than Uriah could truly register it. He blinked at first, his mind naturally wanting to resist, but the calm glow was waiting for him whenever his eyes would open again. And the more Orpheus guided him through his breathing, the more he recognized an almost echo-like quality to his voice. He’d finish one word, and just as its final vibrations would register in Uriah’s mind there was another. Slow, gentle, rippling...

“There we are, good and calm now, aren’t you? That’s better, isn’t it?” Orpheus asked, smiling as he felt Uriah’s body slacken against the supportive coils behind and at his sides. They pulled a little closer, keeping him steady and stable, allowing his strength to leave him completely. Uriah stared back at Orpheus, at his mercy.

“Nn...Orpheus...?”

The naga hushed him, stroking his hair soothingly. Uriah’s eyelids slid a little lower and he sighed in response to the contact.

“Easy. Just relax. I’ve got you... Now, I think we’re ready to try some of those affirmations, hmm?”

Uriah lacked the strength to nod, but he managed a weak, slurred word of consent. Orpheus slid close, leaning over him as he took one of Uriah’s hand in his own.

“I want you to know that I care about you,” he said, speaking softly. “I care about you very much, Uriah. Do you believe me?”

“...Y-yes,” Uriah mumbled.

“Good. I want you to believe me. Many people care about you. You are loved, dearest. Very much so.”

He brought Uriah’s hand up and pressed his lips against the back of his palm. It sent a pleasant warmth down the length of Uriah’s arm, right to his core. It was different from the sensual heat he knew from Kenneth’s hypnosis. This was...calmer. Not any less sincere, but more...what was the word? There was a word for it... He couldn’t remember. The only words his mind could focus on were the ones coming out of Orpheus’s mouth. He felt them just as much as he heard them. They kissed his ears and melted into his mind, anchoring themselves there.

“I’m going to tell you some truths, Uriah. Ones I want you to remember, even if it’s only little by little. Do you think you can do that? Answer me.”

It took a few breaths, but Uriah gained enough control to respond:

“Y-Yes...”

“Good. After each truth, I’m going to use a gesture to help you remember. A simple one.”

He held Uriah’s hand close, stroking across his knuckles.

“I will tell you a truth to remember. The way I touch you will be how you remember. When I touch you, commit it to memory. Do you understand?”

“Nn...mmhmm...”

“Good.”

Orpheus’s smile warmed. He hadn’t used his hypnosis on someone in such a way before; it felt very nice to physically see Uriah so open to suggestions, helpful ones, rather than struggling against the emotional barriers his past experiences had created. They were gone, at least for the moment. He could disturb their foundation this way, give Uriah the tools to shake them up and finally tear them down for good. It was perhaps the best use of his powers to date.

“Now, where to start...”

He thought over it for a moment, and then began in earnest.

“Uriah, you are worthy of others’ time and attention. You deserve more than scraps and spare seconds.”

Orpheus bent his head, turning Uriah’s hand over and kissing the inside of his wrist. The same tingling warmth shivered it’s way into Uriah’s center. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but Orpheus could see the recognition and obedience flicker across Uriah’s gaze as it reflected his own hypnotic glow back at him. He was remembering, as he was told. Good.

“You deserve to be heard and listened to,” he continued, that time leaning in and kissing the shell of Uriah’s left ear, and then his right. He moved slowly to avoid stirring Uriah from his trance.

“You should always be your fullest self. Never shrink yourself to fit into someone else’s space.”

His lips pressed against Uriah’s chest, just beneath the collar of his shirt. The man let out a soft sound in response, and Orpheus hushed him before continuing.

“Always remember you have a beautiful, brilliant, compassionate mind. No one can take that from you, or belittle it. Believe in your own strength and stability of mind. Nurture it.”

Orpheus cradled Uriah’s face between two hands and kissed his forehead. He could feel Uriah’s slowed breathing against his skin, the warmth radiating off of him, the gentleness emphasized by his current state... He really did adore him.

“And the last truth I want you to remember,” he said quietly, “is that I care for you. I want nothing but the best for you. And that means loving yourself. Love yourself, Uriah. Fully. Unashamedly. Because I do...”

That time, he brought his lips to Uriah’s, lingering longer than the other kisses prior. It wasn’t sexual, or overly passionate, but there was a genuine, sensual intimacy. Orpheus expressed his full affection so that Uriah’s mind would recognize it. When he finally pulled back, Uriah’s glowing eyes were barely open, his expression soft, and a hint of heat on his freckled cheeks. Orpheus stroked the edges of his jaw for a few moments more.

“Remember all of that, Uriah,” he whispered. “Will you?”

“I...Nn...I-I’ll...remember,” he sighed.

“Good. Good boy, Uriah,” Orpheus praised, combing his claws through his hair.

“And now, love, I think you should rest. You can close your eyes and sleep. I’ll be right here, I promise.”

Orpheus told him to rest. He wanted to look at those eyes for a little longer, but the demigod’s words were so strong. And the sensation of his fingers running through his hair was so comforting. Uriah’s vision flickered.

“Sleep, Uriah,” Orpheus repeated, softer, sweeter.

With a sigh, Uriah finally gave out, the obedience instilled by the trance winning over any residual desires or thoughts. His cheek rested against Orpheus’s scales as his breathing deepened and slowed, finally deep under the influence of sleep. Orpheus settled close to him, using his tail to bring the blankets up over Uriah. He watched him for a few minutes, still tracing the very tips of his fingers along Uriah’s cheek, hoping that he’d managed to get through to him. He hadn’t attempted to use his hypnosis in such a way before, but it appeared to have been working in the moment. Closing his eyes and settling in more comfortably beside Uriah, Orpheus decided to leave it up to time to tell if Uriah’s mind would take any of his affirmations seriously.

Morning came peacefully, the dappled rays of light reaching across the floor of Orpheus’s chamber. Uriah’s eyes cracked open, blinking several times to adjust to the daylight. Where was he...? Oh. Right, right, with Orpheus. Those were his scales against him. He hadn’t slept so deeply in a long time; he felt a little stupid, being so under that he forgot where he was.

“Damn,” he mumbled to himself, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, “I dunno if Kenny’s even gotten me that deep before...”

His hand moved to shove his bangs back, but the moment he touched his forehead he felt a strange, rippling warmth rush through him. Uriah flinched and gasped, staring at his hand. It didn’t look like anything had been done to it... He gingerly touched his head again and felt the same sensation. His brain buzzed for a few seconds. Pleasantly. It wasn’t brain fog, or a headache, it was...almost like remembering something? Uriah blinked in bewilderment.

“What the...?”

Words. Something about words. His mind scrambled as he drug his hand down the side of his face, trying to sort it out. He looked at his right palm again and brought his left to inspect, but the same jarring feeling caught him off guard as he brushed his own wrist. The initial shock wore away and it instead felt...soothing? Uriah brushed his thumb over his wrist, feeling the warmth creep up in several places.

You deserve time...you’re brilliant...love—

Uriah flinched again and shook himself free of the feeling. It was almost hypnotic itself.

“Geez, what in the world...?”

Beside him, Orpheus finally started to stir. The naga was mid-stretch when Uriah leaned over the large coil between them and stared down with wide, flustered eyes.

“H-Hey! What exactly did you do to me?!”

Orpheus opened one eye.

“Good morning to you, too, dearest,” he yawned dryly. “What do you mean?”

“I-I-I’m feeling...things.”

“What?”

“You did something!”

Orpheus propped himself up on one arm and tilted towards Uriah, looking at him with sleep still fading from his eyes.

“Of course I did ‘something.’ I used my powers on you, love.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Hush,” Orpheus pressed, the tip of his tail rising up against Uriah’s lips. There it was again. Orpheus finally saw what Uriah meant as the man faltered, eyes going hazy and unfocused.

“Ah, I see. Hmm... Perhaps I was a little too intense?” he wondered aloud.

Uriah blinked, feeling that warm buzz wash over him. Pleasant. A reminder of...of affection? That felt right, didn’t it? It...seemed right... He could vaguely recall those words that had echoed around in his head...

“Or...O-Orpheus...?”

“Hold on, let me see here,” the naga tutted, gently touching his fingertips to the place on Uriah’s chest he had kissed during the trance. Uriah drew in a breath, eyes actually closing for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation. It felt like being held, nurtured. Loving himself. Being loved. Feeling whole and content and unbroken. He felt his mind starting to swim in it, until Orpheus retracted his hand and tail—slowly, so as to prevent Uriah from suddenly slipping when coming out of the light trance-like state.

“My apologies, Uriah. Seems I might’ve overdone it just a bit. The immediate effects will wane, though; it won’t be as strong in a day or two.”

“W-What is it you did, exactly?” Uriah asked, much calmer than he had been a few minutes before.

“I used contact to help secure some of the affirmations to your subconscious,” he explained, shrugging as if it were common sense. Uriah stared at him. Orpheus cleared his throat and tried again.

“I used physical affection to bind the memory of my words to you. Positive touch, positive thoughts. Did they come to you just now?”

“Yeah, a-after a few seconds,” Uriah admitted. “It’s just...uh...a little strange to get used to...”

“The sensation, or thinking positively about yourself?”

Uriah instinctively bit his lip to think, but that triggered the sensation again. He released with a short gasp. Orpheus reached forward and placed his hand against his face, purposefully stroking his thumb across Uriah’s mouth. A shiver ran down his spine, but he mustered up the will to speak.

“H-H-Hey. Easy.”

Orpheus smiled.

“It will wane,” he repeated, “but I hope the thoughts stay. I want you to feel better, to know how special you are.”

“As w-weird as it is, I... I appreciate it,” Uriah thanked him, blushing shyly. They remained still together for a moment, listening to the ambient sounds of the birdsong and rustling of leaves in the morning air.

“Hey, uh... What all did you put in my head?”

“I think you’ll have more fun if you find out for yourself,” Orpheus teased.

“At least tell me one?”

“Oh, very well. Which would you like to know?”

“Maybe...?” He pointed up at his lips, too flustered to say it. Orpheus’s grin widened.

“Love. Pure affection, for yourself from inside and out.”

“Oh.”

That was...surprisingly sweet and genuine. Nothing overly sexual from Orpheus? He had expected at least a little teasing, maybe, but knowing he had stuck to his promise to behave made the warmth in his chest return. The demigod didn’t ask him to change; he made room for him, instead, no ‘shrinkage’ required.

“Can... Can I get another one of those?” Uriah asked, referring to the touch to his lips. His face was growing red. “Y-Y’know, just so I remember right...?”

“You certainly can,” Orpheus purred, leaning close. Uriah didn’t flinch away or tense as he felt the naga’s lips against his own. The warmth that radiated through him felt twofold. And for the first time in at least a year, he allowed himself to think: I deserve this.

[juminly]

Invisible String (Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader)

Prompt #4  and #77 by @missmorosis: “Marry me. Now.” and “I can’t say her name without smiling!”

Tags: Fluff + Mutual Pining. PS: Everything in Italic is spoken in French. –♥–

As the song “Sacré Charlemagne” rang loudly in the air, you were whisked into a jolly circle with the children in the little school that Napoleon and Isaac created by the fountain, which you always seemed to forget the name. You absolutely hated using the term “poor children” as everyone referred to them so you made an effort to learn and memorize each one of their names, even if it earned you a few devilish snickers when you stuttered over a few of their names, fumbling through your misconstructed sentences.

Compared to the children, your grammar and vocabulary was absolutely atrocious and it seemed like the infamous Monsieur de Wahaha found way too much pleasure in it, you could see him biting his bottom lip, muffling his chuckle yet his shoulders gave him away before the rambunctious sound escaped him, racking through his entire body. The few swats that Napoleon had to suffer from you did not deter him from losing himself into a fit of laughter. Your expressions never failed to amuse him, his heart feeling lighter than it had ever been in his chest and the adorable pout on your lips that tempted a little too much.

Just to press his lips against yours, Napoleon would always think. Only for a moment, that’s all he wished for. To simply hold you in his arms, engulf you in his warm embrace, where you would be safe and… loved. Feel your soft plush lips and watch as your face turns to a bright shade of red that roses would envy. His thoughts always found a way to drift to you. The petite nunuche with a kind heart, a bright mind and sass that could rival Mozart’s snark.

While you attempted to decipher the words that you were singing, your botched pronunciation did not help much though, the children jumping around, pulling you forcefully into the merry atmosphere that you had absolutely no qualms to join. Fingers that were even smaller than yours wrapped tightly around your palms, squeezed them as tightly as you felt your heart clench in your chest. Even when you were so far from the place you truly called home, with Napoleon, with these children, you found another meaning to the word. How was it that even when you were in the middle of dancing and having fun, your mind was still flooded with thoughts of him? Finding absolutely any hook just to keep him in your mind, clinging to you with no chance for you to escape from them. Even if you wanted to. Was it because he was near? Was it because you felt his eyes on you? Without even looking, you could feel the intensity of his piercing gaze, thoughtful yet kind, that made your body go through a plentiful of sensations that were too many to count on your fingers. Napoleon didn’t realize that he had paused his lesson, his eyes trained on you, seeing you radiate happiness, the happiness that the little ones shared with you even when they lived in some of the most dire of circumstances. If there is anything that you have learned, it was that the smallest things that made a difference. It is the little things that truly mattered. That is a truth that the former Emperor himself has come to realize after being relieved from the responsibility of leading his country and has tasked himself in aiding those that would be the future of France. “Who taught you that song, Clement?” Napoleon called out to one of the boys that were in your circle, shaking his head incredulously and still laughing for a reason that you had still yet to uncover. You weren’t sure what Napoleon was necessarily asking but it was definitely about the song. That was the only word ‘chanson’ that you recognized in his sentence.

“All of you. Come here and form a circle. I think it’s about time that you all learn about what Charlemagne has truly done and why you should be grateful.” Chuckling to himself, he stood from the spot he was sitting in and walked towards you, leaning down so that you were both eye to eye. You didn’t know why every time he did that, it made your heart flutter, doing a bunch of those weird somersaults that kinda made you want to puke.. But not really, at the same time. Being around Napoleon made you feel a flurry of strange sensations. Thinking about him too. That was a fact. “You do realize that this song depicts how much children hold contempt for Charlemagne for inventing school? Whatever you were singing with them right now beats the whole purpose of what we are trying to do for them.” With an eyebrow cocked, Napoleon folded his arms in front of his chest, waiting for a response from you yet the corner of his lips were clearly strained as he fought back a wide smile. “Wait…” You blinked at him in surprise, clearly unaware of the situation that you were put into due to the language barrier. “I… I promise I had no idea! That was definitely and totally not my intention! Oh my God…” It was a funny situation and you found yourself stuck between a state of slight panic and laughter, both emotions reflecting clearly on your visage. The last thing that you wanted was for Napoleon to be disappointed in you. You held him in such high regards, and he did so to you when it came to you, so you didn’t want to do anything to ruin that. A small laugh escaped him, his large hand reaching to ruffle your hair gently before tucking the stray strands away from your face and behind your ear. A gesture that was so simple yet that was done with so much love. Love that you were completely blind to. “This is why you’re my petite nunuche. Come sit and I’ll explain it all to you, princess.” The sly grin he gave you, one that was more like a wide smile, was much too irresistible, your own smile tracing across your blushing face. As he turned away from you and found his seat before everyone, you noticed something. You knew that look in his eyes. It was one that you knew very well, the passion brimming in them, the heart he put into teaching these childrens and sharing with them everything that he had to give. Nothing was ever too much to ask for with Napoleon. God… you couldn’t stop staring at him and you still hadn’t realized why, assuming it was just because he was a born charismatic leader who was now capturing everyone’s attention as he began a history lesson about the medieval emperor Charlemagne and all he had done for France and for the world. Whenever any discussion happened between you, he always leaned down and looked straight into your eyes, especially since you were quite shorter than him. Even when you stood next to one another, he still did the same. Not only with you but with the kids as well, crouching down so that he was on the same level as them, never making anyone feel as though they were inferior. Never looking down on anyone. He spoke to all, treated all, as his equals. No matter who they were. Your daydreams and musings aside, you tried to focus on Isaac’s voice as he spoke in your ear, recounting to you in English all of the stories that Napoleon was painting before all of your eyes. His mind being a wealth of historical knowledge, he ensnared you with his storytelling, even when you had absolutely no idea what he was saying, needing the help of your dear friend, Isaac Newton, to explain it all to you.

“I have a question, Napoleone!” One of the kids, Patrick, raised his hand excitedly and was basically hopping on his cute little butt, curiosity seemingly eating at the young boy. When Leon gave him a curt nod, Patrick giggled and asked. “Why do you call big sister, nunuche?” “Well, there’s a very simple answer to that question. I call her nunuche because she has absolutely no clue that she has stolen my heart.” He declared with a warm smile, his deep voice reflecting the same. As the conversation took a turn, Isaac clicked his tongue, grumbling something that you didn’t catch under his breath and walked away from the big circle that you had formed in the middle of the small town square. Some of the kids were giggling and others were making gag noises. Whatever Napoleon had said really changed the mood. With your eyebrows furrowed, it was a bit bizarre to see the physicist’s face suddenly turn red. Was he that irritated from the story Napoleon was telling the kids about Charlemagne? Now that Isaac was gone, you were left with no one to translate the ongoing discussion for you. Well, upon Napoleon’s instruction, whenever he was addressing the children directly and couldn’t directly translate to you, Isaac would have to step in for him and help you understand the different French expressions and words, especially the most common ones. But… what were they saying now? You did hear the word Nunuche but they were definitely not talking about you. Were they, though? Still, you didn’t want to leave, even if you were completely lost and oblivious to what was going on. You knew that Napoleon would explain it all to you later. “Does that mean that big sister is a thief?” Jacques asked. “Non, non.” He chuckled, shaking his head and sighing out his next words. “It means that I love her with all my heart.” “Is it like how I love my dog?” The little man inquired again. “I love mushrooms!” The youngest of them all, Carmen, chimed in with her own declaration. “Haha, we can all love different things. Love comes in many ways and we all feel it differently.” “How does it feel for you then, Napoleone?” Lea, who was sitting right by his side, inquired considerately, seemingly scrutinizing every word the Frenchman said. He couldn’t help but smile widely, admiring the smart glint in her eyes, the curiosity in her was nothing but meaningful and quite in place. Eyes that reminded of his beloved. You. “Well…” He pondered for a few seconds, trying to find a simple way of putting his feelings into words. “I can’t say her name without smiling.” And just the thought of it did the same, in that very moment. “And sometimes, I think that I might just walk up to her and simply ask her. “Marry me. Now.”” He admitted, the corner of his eyes crinkling a tiny bit as he announced so. God, now you really wanted to know what they were talking about. To know the reason why Napoleon looked almost… giddy in that calm authoritative way of his. “Oh! Oh! That means you want to also have kids with her!” Jacques, ever the talkative one, stated confidently. “Haha, indeed. That is something I do wish to have with her.” As he turned to look at you, you could see his smile turn wistful, the way his eyes fell upon you held so much longing, a yearning for something that may not ever be fulfilled. “I promise, I’ll tell you about everything we just said.” He reassured you with that exact same smile, masking the fleeting sadness that overcame him by clearing his throat, demanding everyone’s attention and returning back to his storytelling. He would tell you all about that conversation he had with the kids. Maybe not on that day… but what he had to say was for later, or maybe never. Luckily for him, none of the children knew how to speak English or they would have blurted out the confession that Napoleon had yet to make. –♥– A/N: Consider this as a snippet from your matchup story with your Leon. I hope you enjoy this @delicateikemenmemes and yes, the title is a Taylor Swift song reference hehe  💜 And thank you @sweetlittlemouse for beta-ing my insecure ass. Tagging: @nafeary @kisara-16 Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !

[life-rewritten]

START UP- DREAMS: DISILLUSIONS vs DESTINY

It's starting to get exhausting dealing with the discourse in Start-up, especially when revolving around the love triangle that refused to be ceased. Heads up, whilst I'm on here analysing mostly about the relationship with Dosan and Dalmi.  I didn't have a side for a long time, I also liked Jipyeong because he was based on Cyrano, he was the guy who wrote to her soul or whatever, but the thing is, as much as I've tried to follow where the show leads me, what clues the show leaves, which Fate is supporting (Fate represents the writer's opinion as well) and why a couple deserves to be together, whilst I've tried to be unbiased, I can't help but now shift the other way to Dosan 100%. I will be infuriated and disappointed if Dalmi ends up Han Ji Pyeong, there I said it, irrationally, possessively, and harshly. And I know this won't get a lot of notes and support but who cares. This is my voice and my opinion. I have come to dislike Jipyeong a lot, fear not this is not a Jipyeong hate post, I don't have it in me to make lists of reasons for why I dislike him, but this is about episode 11-12,  our characters breakdowns from their dreams and destiny.

 All of our main characters in start-up have a dream that yes again, Fate is trying to lead them to, but sometimes their goals don't align with what Fate has for them. The characters experiences; have shaped them to see the future in one way, to want things in another, and to also feel stopped cruelly by Fate and Luck each time it's near them, however, like with Destiny and Purpose, these characters are guided by Fate with good intentions, all the plans for Fate for them are to get to them to their most significant potential and success, even if it seems like it's not for them. Everyone is guided and pushed by Fate, almost forced even, if you try to do something that isn't for you Fate harshly stops you, if you try to run away from something that is for your benefit Fate forces you to go there. 

So our 4 main characters have a destined path for them designed by Fate, its to ensure their skills, growth and talents are utilised in every way possible. This episode it seemed like everything was crashing down for our babies but really, although everyone feels defeated this storm was a push in the right direction. Here's why;

DOSAN’S DREAM: TO BE LOVED

Dosan, my Dosan, no words to explain the hurt he went through this episode. The way his dreams came crashing right in front of him, the way that the only way for him to move forward was to be on pause for a while and fulfil what the world wanted for him, to be a genius. I've written so many posts about Dosan being the person who's the most needed, used and wanted in the world of Start-Up. He's the key man remember, he's the person who everyone falls apart without him there. This episode Dosan was forced to go to the next part of his destiny, somewhere where he'd be utilised more and needed. Dosan was born to code, he was born to be a genius, not even metaphorically, or jokingly, the boy was given coding as his strength, it's automatic to him, authentic to him and is the thing that he's the most accurate at. 

Except for so long because of this Dosan resented himself, he found it useless when he couldn't make friendships or connect with people correctly, he found it useless when it came to being loved for who he was, he found it useless when it came to him trying to find meaning for why he was such a loser. For him, coding was his comfort, his tool to help wherever he can (because that's just him helpful) and the only thing he could rely on. But because of this Dosan never saw how vital his coding was, he's humble, modest and just using it to help wherever he can, he didn't notice all that coding has done for other people. 

First, it provided his friends job they were happy in; Their potential was seen (CODA and 2STO. 

It led to an accurate handwriting forgery test to detect forgery other businesses. 

It led to success with Noongil for both Dalmi's grandma and so many other people,

 It led to him also accurately helping Dalmi code for her drug recognition app, which is also crucial for everyone to use. 

Dosan is incredible, and the fact that he didn't understand why Alex would spend billions and billions to just get him is so sad, but it's good because it means he's not going to go bad. I just love him (that's me being biased). Everyone can see (apart from Jipyeong who I'll explain later), how great he is, how important he is but Dosan only wants his dreams, to be loved. 

It's like he views his coding/geniusness like a curse? It makes him awkward and struggles with everything else, and it makes him feel worthless. All he's ever wanted was to be loved for who he really is (even though being a genius is also who he is);

He wanted his dad to love him without the idea of being a genius, 

He wanted his friends to be by his side just for him, 

He wanted Dalmi to love him only as his awkward, weird and stupid Dosan self. 

His dreams from the start felt blocked because everyone tried to push him to see being a genius as his dream. His father interrupted his speech to Park Changho about what he wanted to say the obvious; winning awards etc. Dosan saw it as a  burden, guilt, and just a barrier to actually loving himself for who he is. 

DOSAN’S DESTINY; TO BE A GENIUS AND THE NAM DO SAN OF DALMI’S LETTERS

Thing is yes I get it, I get why he just thinks being loved and being happy is enough for him. But I agree with Fate as we've seen Dosan is so needed by the world for all that he can do, he's automatically the most selfless and inventive person around him, he takes dreams, ideas, and illusions and makes them real. Heck, he's a real-life manifestation of dreams (Dalmi's own dream guy). He's so incredible the way he just is, the symbol for everyone's hopes and dreams to come through; this isn't me being biased! 

 In episode 12 alone we see it; 

He brings hope as a symbol for  Youngsan's dreams; to not be seen as a failure. 

He brings the solution for Dalmi's ideas to come through because he fixes and solves the coding issue for her on the plane.

 He brings proof for Chulsan who always wanted to be seen and noticed for his skills and be recognised by going to 2STO.

He also brought ease for Dalmi's grandmum to still live comfortable although she may not be able to see. Still, he also made her dreams for granddaughter come through because he is a real-life manifestation of the guy she wanted for her. 

 He also made wishes come through for Jipyeong despite him not seeing it: he's the real-life representation which helps repay Jipyeong's debt to the grandma.  

Dosan is so needed by everyone and also the world, so he couldn't stay stuck in the sandbox with Dalmi, he had to be forced to move on for now. So his dreams (to be loved) and her dreams (her dream guy) can come true. 

DOSAN’S STORM: BEING FORCED TO GIVE IN AND SEPERATE FROM DALMI

Fate forces Dosan to become great and self-confident and see he's worthy.

That's where Alex comes through because Alex for everyone is actually the representation of Fate/Purpose, he's here to be the storm that forces them to grow. Like Dalmi said it's Fall; she's falling before she blossoms. Alex is the falling step, he's the hurt, the betrayals, the challenges before the beauty/truth is seen and appreciated. He's the fire/heat used to make the diamonds. And he did it, he pushed everyone by force to their next destinations. And he chose Dosan because he saw what we've seen, he knows how desperately the world needed Dosan's skills, how much his headquarters needed Dosan. He saw it all, and harshly had to cause reality to come so everyone grows up and pushes forward to where they need to go. 

Symbols for Dosan's conflict with his dreams, vs destiny

Follow your dreams baseball: Dosan says he doesn't want the results and the awards Fate intends to bestow on him its led him to feel lonely with no one by his side. Fate doesn't stop his dreams as he thinks but also makes him viable for them without him knowing. Yes Dalmi broke his heart, but actually, it confirmed to us pretty much he's the one she wants, she selflessly chose to let him go because of how much she loves him, and he'll keep being in her heart until he returns. It also made her realise he is the guy of her dreams (despite the fact she said he wasn't) she was lying; everything she said was the opposite, he was the guy from her dreams, but at that moment life was making her think it was an illusion. 

But in a show that is so supportive of dreams it literally is named after a place to prevent dreams from being ruined, Dalmi and Dosan will get back their dreams; its already in motion. 

DALMI'S DREAMS: TO CONTINUE HER FATHER'S LEGACY AND BE SUCCESSFUL WITH HER CHOICES; TO PROVE EVERYONE WRONG/ TO BE CHOSEN

 Dalmi is someone who I absolutely love, she's determined, resilient and she's actually so bright. The thing with her so far is that we see her potential, her ideas are genius, and she also represents dreams becoming a reality that is useful and helpful for people; 

She's the one who poked Dosan in the right direction for the handwriting forgery test,

 she's the one who brought up the idea of the self relying car

 The person who brought up the idea for the drug recognition device. 

She's great. But also she has her own dreams, Dalmi's dream whilst Dosan's is to be loved, is to be chosen/wanted. From a young age, she felt slighted that her sister and her mother did not pick her and her dad, and the fact the world seemed to make fun of her choices made by her heart. She had dreams to prove to everyone that she made the right choice, that she was on the right path, but also she wanted to continue her father's legacy and dreams. She wanted to be successful with her choices. 

Her choices so far are: Her father, Dosan and being CEO of samsan tech. Each time she's been mocked, rejected by the world and hurt for her choices; 

She's mocked by her sister for staying with her dad when he was going to die, and leave her alone, and force her to be behind.

 She was rejected by the world as CEO of Samsan Tech when Alex didn't view her as useful or important, 

and she was hurt because she chose Dosan as her love interest, she was hurt because she had to let him go cruelly to be who he was supposed to be, she was meant to be left alone by him if he was to grow and become prosperous. 

In each of these, something great came out of it; her father inspired sandbox to be created, Samsan Tech was chosen by 2STO and won demo day, and Dosan was her dream guy manifested. 

 But she was the leftover, the discarded and the failure in each one. It's sad to see how much her dreams felt like disillusions, she was not the person winning from those dreams but the person those dreams did not belong to. Dalmi struggled this episode to see her self as worthy or needed. And that hurt. 

DALMI'S DESTINY: TO BE THE GIRL ON THE SWINGS; AN INSPIRATION, A LEADER AND EXCELLENT SOURCE OF HELP TO PEOPLE

Thing is Dalmi is needed. Her destiny is to be the very face of the Sandbox company. She's the original source of the inspiration of this company used to make sure everyone's dream doesn't get hurt or ruined. She's meant to represent, innovation, comfort and success. She's meant to be great, and Fate wants her to be great. She's a leader, a spark of ideas, and a catalyst to winning. She is important. And she's destined to become a great source of help to people. 

Notice the things she thinks of; its all to do with ease and helping people (like Dosan), whilst Dosan is application and manifestation, she's the innovation and inspiration to everything; 

She is the person who makes him find a way to sort out the handwriting test, 

She's the person who makes him realise how to sort out Noongil with VR and the voice activation,

 She's the person who comes up with the self relying car, 

She's the person who comes up with the drug recognition system. 

See she's already the source of creation for helping the world and making life easier for people and companies. We see what she's good at in episode 1 with her father (she comes up with ideas for him, and she stays by his side as a helping hand). In episode 2 before she quits, she was able to get her company the money needed for buying the products she knew what fangirls wanted, and she catalysed sales. She's a catalyst. So why is she being deserted by Fate?

DALMI'S STORM: BEING REJECTED AS A CEO AND FORCED TO GIVE UP ON DOSAN

Fate forces Dalmi to become self-reliant and determined, she's been given the tools, experience, the location, dream, and the people by her side she just needs to see it.

 Also, she was forced to reset, she was forced to go back and learn from her scars, remember she felt discarded by so many people, it wounded her pride and slowed her down, she was petty to her sister, and that always stopped her growth, Fate came in to force her to heal from that, to grow from that and work with her sister. Because they're both meant to fulfil her father's dream. Fate gave her the right people to use, and learn from (Dosan, Injae, Jipyeong, Sandbox owner, her father) to become who she's also meant to be. So it felt like Fall, but actually, it was for her to bloom into who she was meant to be.

If you noticed in episode 13 trailer: she has her own start up named after her father (fulfilling his legacy) she has the prototype for the car named after Dosan’s teachings (Tarzan) and she also works with Injae as well. She’s on her way to fulfilling her destiny, and Dosan needed to go for her to do so.

Symbols

Self relying car: Because those dreams aren't hers, see she's the catalyst in all of I've mentioned before, those scenarios where she's left, she's always helping others, but like her self reliant car, she needs to become self-reliant. Dosan is excellent to her he's her help, her inspiration, her guide, but she needs to grow and rely on her self, she needs to find out what her strengths are and not just rely on fantasies. Instead of dreaming it up, she needs to manifest it her self. She's now been given an opportunity without Dosan and JP input to find her own voice, where she's actually in charge and confident of what she knows.

Dosan's baseball: it was telling her to follow her dreams, not his, not JP, but hers. To do so, she needed to reset, return back to deal with her feelings, and pride and reunite with her scars and learn about her self. Dosan being there wouldn't help her at that moment. But also she returned the ball back to him: because he also needs to follow his path although he doesn't see it as his dreams; in doing what he was forced to, he'd return back to her and actually keep his promise/dream for her in episode 7 (to be wealthy and successful). 

In a way, disappearing is fulfilling both their dreams/ideas Dalmis dream guy comes back to her the way she asked him to in episode 10 (the suit), and He becomes a dream version of himself for her. She still is his dream, and he still is hers. 

It's funny how life works, it makes you face reality, but love brings fulfilment of dreams in a way you never expected it to, it's still going to get there, but you just have to climb up the mountain first before you see the view, a few obstacles to help you get to the top. 

JIPYEONG'S DREAM: TO HAVE SUCCESS AND TO BE WEALTHY; TO BE WANTED

Jipyeong is an interesting case, he starts off alone, all he dreams of when he's young is to be successful and wealthy. But I also think his dreams are similar to Dalmi's; to be chosen/wanted. He's been without anyone for so long, deserted by Fate to be alone; he's an orphan. He doesn't trust anyone because he's never known how to, everything felt difficult, and he had to fight his way out on his own. For him, clinging to logic and controlling the real world is how he survives and is successful. In fact, controlling/investing in numbers is how he got his first success, that brought him here. He's always wanted to be wanted and chosen. But he also sees success as being above others as well, because he's been looked down on so long when he was younger, he wanted a chance to be seen as important. 

In this episode everything comes crashing down for him 

He realises he's not essential; He didn't even know details about someone he claimed he cared about the grandmum and her blindness. He noticed Dosan already helped her with that not him.

He realises he's not wanted; Dalmi already wanted and was in a relationship with Dosan who he looked down on; who just proved to everyone he's wanted and actually destined for greatness and success. 

He realises he's not chosen; he stopped being seen as Samsan's Techs mentor by Yong San and everyone due to how much he belittles them and put them down. Because of this, they refused to listen to him when he tried to warn them and then he didn't try to help. He wasn't chosen by Dalmi although she thanked him for his words of advice. He wasn't chosen either by grandma because she already rejected him as Dalmi's love interest in episode 9. 

So basically everything was falling apart for him, and he also realised he wasn't a good person. Although fangirls will keep on saying the opposite, he's not a good person, he's selfish and always so focused on the surface that he doesn't look deeper or take a chance on things. It makes him an awful mentor; all he does is break people down instead of offering advice on how to move forward—a pessimistic presence. 

JIPYEONG'S DESTINY: FOUND FAMILY, TO BE WANTED DIFFERENTLY AND TO FEEL PEACE AND TRUST WITH PEOPLE. TO BE AN OLDER BROTHER TO ALL THESE CHARACTERS.

But the thing is like Jipyeong's strength has always been to do with Dalmi's grandmum. In fact, I wanted to say with Dalmi as well but not really cause he keeps crossing that line. His destiny has led him to finding someone who will choose and want him. Fate led him to Dalmi's grandmum in episode 1, it's why he was first shown, he also is being pushed by destiny to find the family he never had. It's about found family. Dalmi isn't meant to be his soulmate, she's meant to be family, just like the grandmum is like a mother figure to him. Jipyeong is meant to be loved, chosen and wanted as an older brother figure. I keep saying this, but you'll notice that's what the show has been showing, his advice only works when he's a mentor/ guidance to the group, it's like an older brother, he's meant to show them reality and berate them, but he's not meant to be the hero or the prince charming to Dalmi's rescue. 

His advice works especially for Dalmi, who needs guidance on reality. But it's for a family relationship; he's been like an older brother to Dalmi for a long time, despite the fact that he was her fantasy Dosan on paper (Dosan is the manifestation of that), but as an older brother, he's protective, caring and looks out for her in the right way, he guides her and becomes another male figure in her life that is comfort and advice after her father died. 

Jipyeong is meant to be a family member, that's why in the promo you see him finally getting his found family dream come true. He also said this was his dream/wish for his birthday he wanted a family to play go stop with; with Dalmi in his life, he's gotten a grandma, a mother figure (probably Dalmi's mum) and a sister (Dalmi). The fact that people don't see why this is what he was meant to be aiming for is funny to me. 

It's not just to Dalmi he's meant to be destined for. Its Dosan, Dosan and him are destined to form a brother bond its why Fate pushed him to Dosan from the beginning, he was meant to guide and teach Dosan how to fulfil his destiny, but he let jealousy and pettiness prevent him from being a good mentor to Dosan, he looked down on him and refused Fates call to invest and trust in Dosan. It was a mistake, and he knew it this episode. Also, he had a found family with Samsan tech, he had three people who would have been friends to him if he didn't berate them and put them down in a disrespectful manner, even Yong San is there to teach Jipyeong to humble himself. But also its Dosan and his crew who help him achieve what he wanted the most to repay his debt to grandma; they make noongil, they use his AI to make noongil, for grandma. He was just too prideful to see it. 

So Jipyeong is destined to become a good boy just like Grandma says he is like he's meant to grow to trust, and love and be chosen as a family member/ mentor. Its what he's been starved of for so long and where he's the most useful and needed.

JIPYEONG'S STORM: BEING SECOND LEAD AND FORCED TO SEE THAT HE'S WRONG ALL THE TIME AND SELFISH

Hence why his storm was exactly showing him all the ways, he failed though people didn't notice; it showed he was a horrible mentor because he didn't gain the trust and respect from his group, it showed he was an awful love interest because he was too focused on money and success to realise the girl he loved's grandma was going blind. He was against the source that was helping her, it showed he was always late, he was forced to be a second lead because Dosan has always been by her side helping and thinking of her first and foremost. Did he learn from his lesson? 

Fate forces Jipyeong to become humble, selfless, and reflective. He still isn't even close to doing so, but also to understand the value of money and greed to not look on the surface

From the trailer it seems like he still doesn't get it, he's still trying to cross that line, maybe I'm a fool, but even after three years I'm sure Dalmi brother zoned him, we'll see, but I think he's still prideful and didn't get what Fate was doing when it gave him three years to spend time with his found family. He still has a long way to go, but I'm sure he'll grow, and I'm his final fulfilment for his destiny in being a good boy would be choosing selflessly to bring Dalmi to Dosan. Because I still think that's how Fate has been using him this whole time. 

So these are the ways Fate pushed our characters to achieve their growth and become who they’re meant to be. In Jae also has her own story to tell but this was already too long and not connected to the love triangle. I’ll make her own post a review later on. But yeh I love this show, a lot of people like to call it useless, or failure to show its message, but this has always been an inpirational message about fulfilling your dreams and becoming the person you’re meant to be, how love helps that, but also how reality needs to happen for that as well. Life isn’t a bed of roses but we can always manifest and get our goals if we put enough effort and hard work into it. These characters all do that, and they all help each other grow. The love triangle may seem useless but it’s a learning point for all our character’s its a way for them to learn and change, and so I’m grateful for it. Just hopeful the writer doesn’t change her direction just because fangirls are threatning for her to make someone endgame who doesn’t deserve it. Okay that’s it. that’s the analysis for this week. Bye <3

[imkylotrash]

Returning Home

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: Can you please do an imagine where Saul is married to someone younger than him who's a fairy who grew up on earth and when Andreas comes back they find out that he was an ex from a couple of years ago who went by a different name cause he was supposedly dead. Anonymous

Tagging: @grey-girl​ @intoanothermind​ @artsyle​ @baueoud​ @glowingatdawn​ @anreeixcobra​ @kingunder221b​ @lflores2008​ @alexiapayne12​ @quuenofblacks​ @quarterback-5​ @estelmei @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​ 

“I’ve never told anyone this before,” he whispers having just admitted to his deepest secret. The one thing that could completely ruin him. You gently stroke his cheek to let him know that you understand. How he managed to keep this a secret for 16 years is something you can’t wrap your head around though. If it were you, you’d need to tell someone. 

“Are you going to tell Sky?” you ask trying to see his facial expression despite lying in the dark. It’s midnight meaning you should be sleeping but you’ve never been good at just sleeping. Two years into the marriage and you still stay up until the AM’s just talking and enjoying each other. You never expected for him to admit to killing Andreas though. You feel bad for Sky but you understand why Saul did what he did even if it didn’t change anything in the end. 

“I think I have to,” he replies inching closer placing a hand on your lower back. It’s taking a lot for Saul to talk about this but you think it’s good for him. For far too long, he’s been the soldier never letting anything get to him and always staying neutral despite his own beliefs. It sounds to you as if he’s never really fully forgiven himself for what happened that day. 

“He’ll forgive you eventually. You didn’t take the decision lightly,” you say praying that you’re telling the truth. You know how much it’ll hurt Saul to lose Sky after having raised him as his own. And in the end, it’ll hurt Sky too. He’s already lost so much, he doesn’t deserve to lose more. 

“One can only hope.” You don’t tell him that hope normally leads to disappointment because no good will come from that. But you can’t help but worry if Sky will be able to understand. It’s a lot to ask of a teenager. Hell, it’s a lot to ask of anyone. Logic never seems to make an appearance when it comes to family. You don’t sleep much that night instead lying awake thinking about what Saul had disclosed. You didn’t blame him for what happened but it made you feel a little queasy still. You couldn’t imagine killing your best friend even if it were for the greater good. 

“Have you slept at all?” Saul asks when he wakes up. You’ve just gotten out the shower grabbing some clean clothes. As much as you try to keep up the next few days passes in a blur as you’re nearing exams and the students are getting worried. The situation with the Burned Ones also worsens making it stressful on you and Saul too. You’re the most experienced hunters when it comes to Burned Ones but it also means that you live each day wondering if you’ll see each other again. The soldier in you tells you that this is normal doing what you do but your heart hates it. Your heart hates it so much that sometimes you wonder if it’ll be able to bear it. The school attack scares you because the barrier was supposed to always be there and now it isn’t. When you hear that the woman Rosalind is back from Farah, you get a very bad feeling in your stomach. All the drama is enough to convince you and Saul that you need a vacation once the school is safe and it’s time for summer vacation. You decide to head to Earth where you have a few priorities after having lived there for most of your childhood and teenage years. Your parents had been very much against the politic aspect of being a fairy so they had migrated to Earth instead opting for completely normal lives. 

“Explain to me again why it’s good business to invest in 3 different houses?” he asks always wanting the explanation but never actually understanding it. In the Otherworld you have one plot of land and you don’t go buying a vacation home. When you return to school, you’re shocked to learn that Rosalind has taken over. You know Farah would never step down voluntarily and you fear for what has happened to her. But the man standing next to Rosalind is the face that draws your attention. 

“John?” you exclaim. Your voice lures him in as he looks for the source. When he locks eyes with you, pure terror settles in your bones. Saul is still holding your hand completely in shock. 

“Andreas?” Confusion takes over when you hear Saul call him Andreas. And you know you’re not mistaken. 

“I hope you’re ready for another year of teaching,” Rosalind smiles satisfactory making you ponder just how quickly you could choke her with water. A flick of the wrist and you could manipulate the dewy drops on the grass to fill her throat and keep her from ever breathing again. But you’re outnumbered. Even if you managed to, there’s still be Beatrix and John who you still have no clue why Saul called Andreas. That’s definitely not Andreas. 

“Of course,” Saul says gripping onto your hand tightly. It’s time to play games if you want to survive. 

“We most definitely are, headmaster.” You give her a little nod which she returns. It’s a struggle to keep your mind empty but too much is going on for you to risk Rosalind taking a peak. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d love a good shower. We’ve been travelling for quite some time now.” Rosalind nods already distracted by something behind you. It gives you a moment to look over at Saul who’s white as a sheet. He doesn’t seem to be present and while you don’t know what has caused this reaction, you do know that you need to get him inside and away from prying eyes. So, you do just that. Behind you the Winx girls are arriving laughing and joking. That’s what caught Rosalind’s attention. 

“Y/N?” You look up to find John’s eyes transfixed on you. Then he smiles giving you the creeps. 

“It’s good to see you.” You ignore him dragging Saul with you. He’s slowly returning to the present making it much easier to walk. 

“I thought I killed him,” he whispers not paying much attention to you. 

“What are you talking about? How do you even know John?” you ask locking the door to your room to make sure no one enters without the two of you being prepared. 

“John? I’m talking about Andreas.” You’re really trying to put two and two together but right now it adds up to 5 and you have no idea how. 

“The man next to Rosalind is John. I used to know him when I lived on Earth,” You don’t use the word date but your blushing cheeks give it away for you. 

“His name is Andreas and he’s Sky’s father.” You bolt over to the dresser searching for any photo album. It’s never occurred to you that you haven’t seen a photo of Andreas. It doesn’t take too long to find a picture of him and Saul together laughing. Andreas is John, John is Andreas. 

“He must’ve used an alias to keep people from finding out he was alive,” you say staring at the photo suddenly feeling sick. You’d always wondered why he just disappeared all of a sudden back when you were dating. One day you came home to find a goodbye note and you never heard from him again. But it made sense now. Maybe his identity had been compromised, maybe he left to prepare for whatever was going on now. So many things about him made sense now; the always looking over his shoulder, never giving too many details about himself, not wanting his photo taken. He wanted to prevent prove of your life together. 

“We have to find out what they want. We have to talk to Sky.” You both hurry out to find Sky but it’s too late. He’s already talking to Andreas. The chance of the little boy not siding with his returned father is minimal meaning you and Saul will have to figure this out on your own. 

“I’m not sure what he’s doing here especially with Rosalind, but it can’t be good, Y/N.” You agree knowing that it’ll be up to you and Saul to figure out this mess. You can only hope that it won’t get messy but it seems pointless to hope something won’t happen when you already know this won’t be pretty. 

[sableflynn]

Felivy - Midnight Tea

Another piece from the felivy au with @whumpopology​ my love! April, thank you so so much for trusting me to write James, and thank you for your help and encouragement in finishing this 🥺

This is the Felicia timeline. She’s trying to gather all the information she remembers to help rescue Ivy, but she needs to talk it out with someone. James is there to listen. Contains vague references to past torture/captivity. Ao3 link here.

---

Felicia jolted awake with a burst of panicked energy, the terror of the nightmare still pounding in her heart. Already the details were slipping away like sand through her fingers, leaving trace memories of ropes digging into her skin, Ivy’s screams, Volkan’s eyes. She loosened fingers that gripped the bedsheets and tried to steady her breathing, eyelids fluttering.

Next to her in bed, Elyse stirred. Felicia rolled over to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead, answering her mumbled question with a soft I’m fine. Untangling herself from the mass of blankets, she rose from the bed and padded from the room, wrapping a thin robe around her as she went.

The house was still in the night, soft moonlight filtering through the window and casting the kitchen in a weak glow. Her bare feet were silent on the hardwood floors as she made herself some tea, settling in to study the mass of papers she had left spread over the table. Scribbled notes, half-illegible, and newspaper clippings, and a map marked and marked again, and she was no closer to figuring out where Volkan was keeping Ivy, where he’d kept the two of them. Felicia had been home almost a week, and every minute she sat here was another minute for Volkan to decide to slit Ivy’s throat and be done with her. They needed to find her now, but all the information and memories were swirling in a jumble in Felicia’s mind, and she couldn’t focus them long enough to write down, she couldn’t do this alone—

Rubbing at her face, she left her mug at the table, and made her way through the house. She hesitated a bare moment outside the spare bedroom before raising her fist and knocking.

The door swung open and James stood there, hair still scruffy from sleep but eyes alert as they met hers. She studied him, tracing the faint freckles on his cheeks, the slight furrow of his dark brows. He had always seemed larger than life whenever Ivy described him, a hero, an inspiration. Looking at him now, Felicia saw a person, exhausted and doing his best. She thought—she hoped—he saw the same when he looked at her.

“Can I talk to you?” She forced a casual lilt to her voice despite the tension twisting through her.

If he was bothered by being woken in the middle of the night, he didn’t show it. She wondered if he was sleeping at all. “Of course,” he said, and followed her back to the table.

He sat across from her, and as she picked up her mug of tea, regret pulled at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t make enough for you. Do you want—?”

“I’m fine.” James cast an eye over the spread of papers before turning his gaze back on her. “What did you wanna talk about?”

She pushed a blank sheet of paper and a pen across the table at him. “I just need to...talk some things out.” The clinical nature of the pen and paper, the physical barrier of the table between them, they all paradoxically relaxed Felicia. She wasn’t baring her soul to a near-stranger. She was providing important information to someone who needed it.

“It’s things we need to know. Things I learned,” she explained, haltingly, stopping herself from rambling. “I just can’t talk to Elyse about it, because—” It was too much. Too fresh, too painful, too personal. “Because I can’t.”

James nodded. “I understand.” He blew out a shaky breath, but when he spoke again, his voice was steady. “Tell me whatever you need to.”

Felicia looked down at her hands, folded on the tabletop. Whatever I need to. One thumb rubbed against the other, the sensation grounding her. Tell him floorplans and landmarks. Tell him names and locations. Don’t tell him how small Ivy looked, bleeding out from a bullet wound. Don’t tell him how the agony of the healing tore us both apart.

“I might start crying.” The words fell from her mouth before she could catch them, and her fingers fretted the edge of a stray sheet of paper, folding and unfolding. “That’s just a thing that happens. Just ignore it.”

She didn’t look up to see how he felt about that. She pushed on before he could say anything, before her thoughts could catch up with her. “I think he’s somewhere up north.” She pulled the worn map between them, and it gave her something to focus on besides her own nervous energy. “The trees...they’re different than they are here. And any time he had his friends over, they’d always be complaining about the cold.”

“He had friends over?”

She glanced up to find him looking at her, the pen clutched tight in his hand, something that might have been horrified comprehension dawning in his eyes. Her breath froze in her chest. One comment like that shouldn’t have revealed so much—but James wasn’t an idiot, and he could read between those lines to guess at why those friends had come over.

He’s quiet, Ivy had said about James one night, while they were sharing stories, but he knows his shit. I would trust him with anything.

Looking at the man before her—young, she realized, not much older than she, why had she pictured James as so much older?—Felicia searched beneath the exhaustion and growing horror to find something of the leader Ivy described. Someone she could trust.

She just saw a man. But if Ivy trusted him, maybe that could be enough for her, too.

“He had friends over,” she repeated with more force. She clutched her now-cold mug of tea like a lifeline, breathed in the chamomile to remind herself that it wasn’t a mug of coffee, she wasn’t in his lounge, they weren’t about to touch her. She had lost count of the number of hands that touched her.

She blinked, and a few tears slid down her cheeks. James tilted his gaze back towards the paper, granting her the smallest privacy, and she couldn’t remember the last time her tears had belonged to her, hadn’t been driven from her by cruel hands and words, jeered and crooned over by Volkan and his fucking friends.

“Some of them are in the city.” James flicked a glance up at her as she spoke. This is important, she told herself. Concrete information. Facts. Something they could use. Something that could bring Ivy home.

So she spoke, and James listened, and he wrote. She was hesitant, detached, drawing from memories without truly touching them, because if she had to acknowledge what had happened she would shatter. She listed anything she could remember, names and appearances and occupations, and James took them all down in messy, haphazard print. He rarely looked directly at her, and that made it easier, somehow. She didn’t have to school her expressions, worry about how her anguish affected him. She gave information, and he received.

She allowed herself to look at him, eventually. He was diligent and thorough in his notes, briefly meeting her eyes here and there to ask a gentle guiding question, never letting his gaze linger too long. She could see the tension in him—the way his jaw worked, his grip on the pen, the hard press of his writing into the paper—yet every time he spoke to her, his voice didn’t waver, and it wasn’t cold. She watched him, and she could almost hear Ivy’s choked voice as she talked about him, and then the question left her lips before she could stop herself.

“Why did you choose me?”

James looked up at her, paling, his lips pressed tight before he finally spoke. “It—it was the hardest choice we’d ever had to make.” His eyes were on hers now, dark and conflicted, and she forced herself to hold his gaze. “It wasn’t about who was better. You’re both important. It was just...it was about who made the most sense. We—”

“Actually, I don’t need to know.” Her voice shook slightly as she cut him off. Maybe she’d hoped he’d have some pithy answer ready, some straightforward explanation that put all her doubts to rest. But she couldn’t bear to listen to him justify and explain like he was still half-trying to convince himself. She wasn’t ready to know what that conversation had looked like.

All at once, exhaustion crashed over her. How long had they sat here talking? How many hours? And how could she allow herself to feel exhausted when Ivy was still there, still with him, still in danger?

“She told me you always make the right call.” They had been talking about their teams, finding what solace they could in each other. Sometimes I hate it, Ivy had said, but he’s always right. He’s never led us wrong. And yet Felicia was here, and Ivy wasn’t. “I’m not so sure.”

James’s expression stayed steady, but a flush crept up his neck and across his cheeks. “I—” He swallowed, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Excuse me.” He pushed back from the table, and Felicia was silent as he grabbed his coat, stepped out the door to the front stoop. The metal spoon scraped against the ceramic of the mug as she stirred her cold tea, and she stared through the papers scattered across the table, and said nothing.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

✨ Seven days of:

Day #3.

✨ REQUEST: Request for El Presidente 😁 I've been thinking of this idea: Maybe Bishop is trying to flirt with the reader but we all know he's flirty with most women so the reader doesn't think much of it until they are at a party and “...How long has he been flirting with me?” another mayan: “Only the entire time.” [ I hope you haven't written something like this. I love you 💖]

✨ MADE BY: @ocetevasgirl

WORDS: about 1.9k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ OBISPO ‘BISHOP’ LOSA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

“C'mon, dance with me”.

The whisper into your ear takes you by surprise, producing you some shivers down your spin. Turning around, you frown to El Presidente. Being insistent as fuck is a personality and it's his.

“Ay, ya, Obispo. I can't believe Vicki is running out of girls to flirt with”. Rolling your eyes, you have a drink from your beer.

“Have I told you how good my name sounds in your lips?” He replies not caring a shit about what you have said. “Vamos... You never dance with me”.

“Yeah, and today is not gonna be the day it changes”. Palming his chest with your free hand, you raise both eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Because I ain't a number on your list. It's called self-love”.

“Who said I want you to be a number?”

Rolling your eyes, you can't believe that he's denying the fact that he flirts with you the whole time. You like him, and you have been about to fall into his claws a lot of times, but then you see him with another girl sitting on his lap, or clinged to his arm. The deception is bigger every time.

“Why don't you give up at damn once?”

Not giving him the opportunity to respond, you pass him away with a loud snort. Getting out of the clubhouse, you're able to have a deep breath of fresh air closing your eyes, guiding after that your steps to the sofa on the porch. Resting your feet over the wooden fence and lying back against your seat, trying to keep blank your mind. The silence outside helps you more than you could think, only being broken by the crickets around you and the bonfire in the middle of the yard.

You aren't sure when he started to act like that. At the beginning of meeting you he was kind, respectful and sweet. But bit by bit, you started to see his intentions. Being aware that the only thing he wants from you is a one night-stand. It's painful, even if you don't want to recognize it, because you were feeling something. Something good. Until he changed. Then it turned into sarcasm and rage. Every time that you turn him down, he finds his way to one of those bitches who are always in the club, cheering the view. And of course it's not their fault, but maybe if they weren't there, things would be different.

“Can I sit?”

Taza claims your attention with a soft tone of voice, pointing with a hand to the empty seat by your side. Showing him a fleeting smile, you nod in silence. As soon as he sits down, the man places his free arm over your shoulders to urge you to rest your head on his.

“What's happening inside that beautiful mind, ah?”

“You already know it”.

He draws an oh in his lips, before chuckling shaking his head.

“He's really in love with you”.

“No, he's not. And, god, please! Don't take his side”.

“I would never lie to you, chamaquita. The problem resides in that he doesn't know how to show it properly. You're the whole time kicking his ass and he's desperate for opening your eyes”. That sounds like a possibility. Like a valid one. “Why don't you give him a chance? We have closed a deal that has given us a lot of privileges. He's happy and he only wants to celebrate it with y—”.

The main door opening interrupts your conversation, seeing the crew abandoning the club.

“We're going to Vicki's, you comen'?” Coco asks, having a smoke.

Taza looks at you, arching a brow, but you shake your head getting up.

“Do you want me to ride you home?”

“Nah, don't worry. I will walk, so I can… clear my mind”.

Placing a kiss on your forehead, the older joins his brothers as you come inside the club. The silence is installed all around, once the buzz of the engines disappear through the scrapping. You were wanting to stay a little more, because you don’t have any other plans for tonight than this. And you’re not in the mood to come back home, so you are thinking about finding a bar to drink, even if it means to be alone.

When you’re about to grab your jacket from a chair, the crash between two pool balls calls your attention. Turning around with the piece of clothing covering your forearms, you find Bishop standing up from the table with a cig in his lips. You can see him pretending normality with his eyes focused on his own game. Not understanding why he hasn’t gone to Vicki’s place, you’re starting to think that maybe he did on purpose. Pressing the inside of your cheek with the tip of your tongue, you can’t help but contain a laugh by showing up a smile.

“Need a partner?”

Having a smoke and swallowing it before spitting it, the mexican turns to a side to grab another stick and offer it to you in silence. So, that’s a yes. Putting your jacket back on the chair and leaving on the poker table your phone, you two start a new game after placing all the balls forming a triangle. Bishop gives you some space, resting his back against the wall, to see how you break the formation with an accurate hit sneaking a striped red ball into a hole, in the middle of the pool. It’s the first time he plays against you, and he isn’t sure that he has seen you playing before. But he knows that it’s going to be an interesting game. Holding his stick between both of his legs under your attentive gaze, El Presidente takes off the clock in his right wrist and the ring from the same hand.

“Since when are we competing?” Tossing a loud laughter, you place both hands over the tip of your stick, resting your chin there.

“If I win, you will give me a kiss”. Bishop sounds very convinced of beating you, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt under the kutte. And you know he’s going to play hard, when he also takes off the leather garment to put it away.

Licking your bottom lip, squinting at him you offer him a hand to accept the deal.

“If you lose, you will stop with this… flirt, or whatever it is”.

At first, he doubts. You’re not stupid, you know that he will never stop flirting with you, but for a moment, you doubt too. Until he finally shakes your hand firmly, secure of himself.

Ball against ball, striped and smooth, they all end up falling through the different holes of the pool table. When the only one left is the number eight, you notice the tension installed between both. It’s your turn and Bishop is expectant, making you feel nervous with that grin contained under his black moustache. Leaning over the table with your gaze focused on the tip about to hit the ball, you calculate the exact way it has to take. Pulling it back, you move it forth with a fast move to beat the eight. Straight to the hole, bouncing against the wooden wall and coming back to the table.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Bishop breaks into laughs, not being able what just happened. It was inside the hole and that motherfucking ball didn’t fall through it.

“YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME! I WON! IT WAS INSIDE IT!”

Screaming like a madwoman and pointing at the pool with a hand, you turn at him. The man is running out of air, choking in laughs and almost arching back his body.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, estúpido”. Palming his shoulder with more strength than you wanted to use, he complains this time. “I’m not playing anymore, I won”.

“You didn’t”. The man leans over the table, doing exactly your same moves, but having more lucky than you.

“I’m not gonna fucking kiss you”.

“Sweetheart, how many times you can say fucking in a sentence?”

“Every two fucking words”.

Chuckling and taking off from your hands the stick, he places it in the holder close to his.

“I’m going to be a good man, and let you kiss my face wherever you want”.

Taking your right hand, Bishop pushes you into his arms, wrapping with them your waist. And even if for a moment you want to put up some resistance, deep inside you being hugged by him is everything you want. There’s still a couple inches of distance between both when you toss your hands on his shoulders respectively, rolling your eyes as if you were feeling uncomfortable. Leaning forward, you press your lips on his cheek. The fucking longer two seconds of your life. But if you were thinking that this would be enough for him, it isn’t.

Bishop embraces you tightly against himself, making you feel warm and loved for the first time in your life. It’s not only the gesture, but what he is transmitting you with it. Now you’re believing what Taza has told you almost an hour again. And you don’t reply with a single word, when he starts to kiss your face with such dearly touches, as he speaks.

“I want you —one on your neck— to be mine —another going up to the line of your jaw— and only mine —the last one close to the corner of your lips—, why don't you believe me?”

His facial hair makes you some tickles, provoking you a long shiver that bristles your skin. There’s no distance between you two, guiding your steps backwards until your body meets the pool table. His mouth is coming closer to yours, tasting the waters just in case that you really want to push him away. But you don’t. You don’t do it, closing your eyes as soon as he presses his lips against yours.

You can taste the flavor of beer and smoke in his saliva, not being disgusting for you, with your fingers getting placed at both sides of his neck; caressing with the tips of them his short beard. The heat is starting to burn down your heart barriers, transforming your doubts and insecurities into ashes.

Pulling away your faces from each other, when you are running out of air, Bishop urges you to sit on the edge of the pool table as he makes his way to between your legs. And there’s a detail that catches your whole attention. He’s not hard. You’re sure that if he does the same moves with one of Vicki’s girl, or any man with any woman he just wants to fuck with, he would be already hard. Quite the opposite, El Presidente is only focused on showing you that you’re more than a night-stand for him.

“Will you give me an opportunity?”

“Just one”. You highlight, bringing your eyes to the darkest ones.

“As if I needed more than one, querida”.