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aoitrinity · 5 years ago

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Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night

I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.

I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.

Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.

Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.

Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.

It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.

Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.

However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):

At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).

-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.

-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)

-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.

-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).

-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”

-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.

-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.

-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)

-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.

-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes

-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.

-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.

-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.

-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”

-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.

-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.

NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):

In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it.

Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in.

Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.

But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length.

But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.

It was about cold, hard cash.

Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?

Walker.

And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.

Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.

They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.

So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages.

They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.

And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.

And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.

I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?

Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.

Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.

Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:

Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.

And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.

Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.

For the sake of fucking money.

And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.

So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments.

I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve.

We save them.

One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:

-The Castiel Project

-Dean Winchester is Love

-Sam Winchester Project

-The National Association of the Deaf

-The Jack Kline Project

#supernatural season 15 #spn finale #speculation #destiel #destielgate #the ending was not the ending #fuck the cw #trust the story #we were robbed

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basaltdelta · 3 years ago

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Asks you about your journalist oc asks you about your journalist oc asks you abo- /pos

YES!! YES!!!! So Bombus 'Buddy' is the journalist, they're chill in a contained anxiety way. and Autism way. They're a grumpus of very little words yet somehow everyone tends to let words spill out around them. Theyre just a comforting person to be around, they're always listening and while they'll have snarky remarks if you start it, its usually something that'll make you reflect on yourself and not close up. Bombus was planning their whole early life to be a veterinarian but something happened that made them spiral into journalism and taking a major career change. This helps when they go to snaktooth island. For their 'current' job they do mostly cryptozoology because its fun and people like it. Bombus likes conspiracies because they're fun to think about not because Bombus believes them- even if they've uncovered a few themselves. Bombus has like another pen name for more serious things they do stories on so they don't get their head blown off. Not that it would, but they're very paranoid about disappearing in the middle of the night. On the island of Snaktooth, Bombus is a little obsessive with documenting absolutely everything (mirroring my 100% playthrough lol). They have multiple journals and they regularly talk to Floofty and Triffany for the more science-y stuff. That's their professional journal though. The journal Beffica gave them is the original they lug around with them everyone and write field notes in along with the issues everyone else has. Because its habit at this point to write down everyone else's issues. Beffica is also a close friend of theirs honestly because Bombus loves loves to gossip and know things. Bombus just considers themselves friends with everyone on the island!! Maybe less so Cromdo but hes fun to get into arguments with about haggling and non existent money. Think around a week into their adventures on Bugsnax island they find a unique sort of Bugsnax based off the food Mousse. They don’t have any fun bugsnax name because theyre literally a mouse!! Which is what Bombus calls her, mostly because they didnt know how to pronounce ‘mousse’ before. Theyre a weird sort of bugsnax that genuinely struggles and will attack you if you try to eat it, and Bombus tends to talk to it like she can actually talk back. Mousse is always on or around Bombus and everyone else...is a little uncomfortable with it. Even Gramble. Mousse doesnt like gramble. Gramble doesnt like mousse. She fills him with dread. (This is based on how i had another person in the vc with me helping while I played bugsnax) Bigsnax and ending spoilers after this point btw

Bombus has always been a little paranoid, not as bad as Snorpy is but being an investigator as long as Bombus has will give you the kinda gut instinct that makes the rest of your normal life nerve wracking. When Bombus went to Broken tooth island and found that key in that cave it fucked them up. That shouldnt of been there. at all. It doesnt match the rest of the area in the slightest and the triangle scheme reminds them of the stupid grumpinati thing Snorpy talks about. Bombus doubts it was planted there, but when they find the triplicate space and the tapes it basically sets up what they do from there on out. They document every single fucking inch of that place. Taking books and the tapes and taking so many pictures their camera starts heating up. They also quickly capture Joey Quickbeans and adopt them as their own bugsnax pet along with Mousse. Mostly cause they want to return them to Alegander? Or as like...’plz dont kill me im holding ur dog hostage’ When they leave Snaktooth they take a Small Detour from helping everyone not die to save all of their research, which they’ve painstakingly taken the time to put into easy to transport journals and tapes thank fuck, so it only takes quickly putting it on and bolting. Everyones also very mad when they hear Mousse. Because they just learned Bugsnax are parasites and suck. Bombus Also has Joey and Sprout in their bag but the others don’t know about it. I like to think a year or two after snaktooth Bombus talks to gramble and mentions Sprout to see if maybe he’d want them back. (He...thinks on it. He might. Hes conflicted. Also a little mad Bombus brought it but also grateful?) The next step of their story is research the Triplicate, Snakolytes and find Alegander. And get distracted for a bit doing a favour and trying to clear Snorpy and Floofty’s names. Skimming over the romance with Floofty cause while I like it, it may not be everyones cup of tea so ill probably talk about it in other posts :-) I am planning on making a fic for it though!!

#pyropost #bugsnax #the journalist #Bombus 'Buddy' Redacted #WOOF I really rambled here!!#If u have any further questions plz ask them #I love love love to talk about my little guys gamers #I also want to make a bugsnax inscryption au..both ways.#As in the bugsnax characters in inscryption #and the inscryption characters in bugsnax

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orangedodge · 4 years ago

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@dannybagpipesarecalling replied to your text post:

I didn't realize those were Destiny's diaries either. If you would be so kind, can you explain how Emma knows? Unfortunately I haven't read enough comics to know this backstory.

I am glad you asked about this, because it gives me an excuse to post about it while hopefully not sounding like a conspiracy blog. I've been slightly obsessed with this idea since Emma first turned up in House of X, so I'm rather excited that “maybe Destiny's Diaries still exist” isn't just my weird crack canon any longer.

Emma was, in short, the last person who can be established to have control over the whereabouts of the diaries. And as one of the top five telepaths in the world, who has expressly defended that secret from the likes of Exodus and Mr. Sinister, she is capable of preventing Professor X from just taking the information from her. So barring new retcons, if Moira has the diaries now, they had to have been obtained directly from Emma.

That's not enough to say that she turned them over to Moira specifically. She could have given them to Charles or Er—okay, no, she wouldn't give them to Charles. There could be a circumstance where she'd trust them to Erik though. But in that contingency, I think there's enough context to support Emma knowing why they'd want them and for who. To be clear though, I would be less confident about making that assertion if Emma hadn't just opened the “Dr. Moira MacTaggert Memorial Public Hospital” expressly to freak out Charles and Erik, and if HoxPox hadn't already linked them by showing Moira to be worried about what Emma was up to.

(This got kind of long so I thought it'd be helpful to say the important part up front before spiraling down the continuity rabbit hole)

The origins and resulting chain of custody for Destiny's Diaries are as follows: One January, decades ago, Destiny began recording visions of the future in a series of diaries. Filling one book per month, she continued writing for thirteen months. This process was described as auto-writing, and Destiny herself did not have a complete memory of what she had written, nor did she understand the meaning of much of what she wrote.

Nonetheless, the July diary contained a recording of the events leading up to the defeat of Apocalypse, and another diary contained information on the life of Hope Summers, so they've been very relevant to the events of the modern era. It's not explicit yet that Krakoa's founding is also in the diaries, but because we know Destiny had at least one separate vision of Krakoa, and because Moira is interested in reading them, it seems fairly likely that whatever Moira, Charles, and Erik have been doing behind the scenes is also in there.

In the decades since Destiny authored them, most of these diaries were lost, except for five that Mystique kept hold of, and a sixth that Irene hid away herself. After Mystique killed 'Moira,' she sent her five diaries to Professor X, hoping that the temptation of using them would consume his life and lead him toward a ruinous fate. Destiny meanwhile had entrusted the sixth diary to Shadowcat (who Destiny met in 1936, while she was time traveling and having an affair with Moira's grandfather don't worry about it), who eventually became so freaked out by something she read in it that she vanished on a mission, let her friends believe her dead for weeks, and had herself deleted from Cerebro, while leaving the diary to Rogue for safekeeping while she was away.

(That last chain of events isn't incredibly important, I just think it becomes kind of lol in light of current canon)

Rogue went on to take that diary and the research that had been done on it to Storm. Storm and Rogue then formed a splinter team of X-Men, to journey the world searching for the lost diaries, believing Professor X could not be trusted. Along the way a seventh book turned up with a treasure hunter named Vargas (don't worry about him), and an eighth was found by Gateway and given to Rogue in a dream. Eventually Storm tried to get Phoenix to collect Professor X's diaries for her, but they discovered that they had already been stolen (Shadowcat did it).

The rest of the diary hunt isn't really important, just that Kitty eventually ended up retrieving the full set, before she rejoined the X-Men, which only happened after Xavier had left Scott and Emma to run the school. This timeline is important for establishing that Xavier has never possessed the full set of diaries himself, and was not involved in collecting the lost books at any point, nor was he present at the time the diaries were brought to the school and fell under Emma's protection. This rules out the possibility that the set of diaries we've previously seen were somehow forged by Xavier.

Xavier would not return to the school until after losing his mutant powers, whereupon he departed for space on an adventure to another galaxy. He was unavailable, therefore, to have undertaken any telepathic shenanigans, so what happens next actually happened, and is not a psychic illusion. While Xavier was gone, Mr. Sinister recruited Exodus and Mystique, and began a campaign of hunting down precognitive psychics, time travelers, and any other sources of information on the future. Scott, Emma, and Kitty meanwhile predicted that they were going to be next, and came up with a bananas plan to keep the books safe.

X-Men volume 2 no. 203 by Mike Carey (Writer), Humberto Ramos (Penciler), Carlos Cuevas (Inker), Studio F’s Edgar Delgado (Colorist), Virtual Calligraphy’s Cory Petit (Letterer), Will Panzo (Assistant Editor), Nick Lowe (Editor), Joe Quesada (Editor in Chief), Dan Buckley (Publisher)

First they hid the diaries somewhere in parts unknown. Emma then altered the minds of “all of us” (everyone who lived at the mansion at that time) to perceive a bunch of decoy books as the real thing. She then erased Kitty's memory, and her own, so that no telepath would be able to extract the information by force, before they gave each other a series of post-hypnotic triggers so they could restore one another's memories if they ever needed the books again. When eventually Exodus attacked the school looking for the books, they restored their memories, and decided to send another team to the hidden location where they'd buried a mystery box. Emma gave this location to Sam and Bobby, who dug up the box, which was never opened, and which was destroyed by Gambit during a firefight with Sinister's forces before anyone could confirm its contents.

This was intended by author Mike Carey to be the end of Destiny's Diaries, a dropped plot from a previous creative run, that was vaguely useful at building up to the Messiah Complex crossover, but was a lot more trouble than it was worth to an author who was writing about the X-Men trying to avert a bad future. But there's a lot of room in the story he wrote for the diaries to have survived after all.

I think it's actually really suspicious that the box was accessible to Bobby and Sam at all. Why not drop it under a mountain? Why not bury it under the ocean? Why not keep it phased in a tree? And it's a big red box with a big red 'X' on it. I know the X-Men love their branding and all, but that's going pretty far.

No one actually opens the box before Gambit blows it up either. It could have contained more decoys, or nothing at all.

And when talking among themselves, Emma and Kitty never actually say that they're sending the X-Men to retrieve the diaries. They say that they know where the diaries are, and then send the X-Men to a place where they've buried something. The intent of the author is clear, but there's room in the dialogue for a later writer to decide that this just was another plan to keep the books hidden.

So for the entire period of time between assembling the complete collection of thirteen diaries, and their seeming destruction, they are never unaccounted for. Only Emma and Kitty knew the full extent of what they did to hide them, and where they were hidden. If fakes were destroyed instead of the real thing, no one would have known.

We could just be in retcon territory, but I don't think so, because it's fine on its own without any direct changes to canon. And really, faking the destruction of the books to cover up their real location makes a lot more sense than believing Emma Frost actually sent Sam to retrieve the incredibly suspicious looking red box that contained the most important object in the world, while half the super villains on the planet were chasing him.

Believing the diaries weren't really destroyed just requires the reader to accept that Emma would lie to the other X-Men, and keep lying to them for years, and that she'd be willing to put Sam and Bobby's lives at risk to protect that lie. Which she was already doing in that story anyway. She was already lying to everyone when she changed everyone's memories. And she—and Scott and Kitty—was already fine with risking everyone's lives when setting up a decoy trap in a school. So that's why I think this works better as a continuation of the existing, known, story of the diaries, and not a direct retcon to what happened.

In conclusion I think Emma knows about Moira because Moira got the diaries from somewhere, and Emma is the person she could have gotten them from. Nothing proves a direct hand-off in, like, a formal standard of proof or anything, but Emma having access to the diaries for so long, and having been wrapped up in this whole weird plot thread—which involves Moira and most of the Quiet Council—is enough to imply the connection in a story sense.

(ETA - For completion’s sake, there is also a weird story I didn’t go into called Chaos War that was published in 2011 where Moira is resurrected and finds a book in the ruins of the Xavier School that may or may not be one of the diaries, and touching it causes her soul to merge with Destiny’s, who then possesses her and guides her through a quest to destroy an evil god. This was an odd story to place in continuity at the time, and has only gotten stranger, given 1. that couldn’t be the real Moira, 2. Destiny is not merged with her soul. If this is in continuity (it’s been suggested that Moira’s golem was the character in this event), and all of the characters are who they say they are, and if the book in question was actually one of the thirteen diaries (and not some other book that Irene also wrote), then it requires Emma to have deliberately left one of the thirteen books behind for “Moira” to find, which if anything only adds to the likelihood that she knows what’s up)

#x-men #comics #marvel #wednesday spoilers #long post

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soundofseventeen · 5 years ago

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We Belong Together (Part Five)

Hi! I finally bring you Woozi! I am also here with erin! (not irl but we still skying, lmao)

Word count: 1416

Jihoon wasn’t sure who gave his bandmates permission to use his house to get read, especially so early in the morning, but he was still in bed, listening to everyone’s footsteps. (Mingyu...or Minghao probably invited them. He was pretty sure that had to do with the fact they owned just about everything that helped them prepare for special occasions) Some were running between rooms, searching for god knows what and some just walked to where they needed to go. He could hear Jun and Seungcheol fighting over who was gonna shower in the spare bathroom (next time they decided to move into a bigger dorm, a third bathroom was definitely a requirement.) And then he heard them cursing at Dino, followed by a slam so he pieced together that the youngest beat them to it.

He tossed and turned for a couple more minutes, hoping to sleep the day away, or even just half. He hated that the sleeping pills he took the night before had little effect on him. He threw the comforter over his head, groaning and hoping he could drown out the noise to have some kinda peace before announcing his presence, but when Hoshi accidentally walked into his room, backed out slowly and closed the door a little harder than necessary, he sat up again, looking for something to throw at his best friend when he saw him, but he didn’t find anything. He hated when one of the boys went into a cleaning frenzy and left nothing in their wake.

Jihoon put on his favorite robe, the only thing he kept in good condition since his trainee days and his newest slippers that he received as a birthday present from...he couldn’t even remember who anymore. He wasn’t prepared for the mountain of clothes littering the hallway, and tripping over a belt in the process but he finally made it to the kitchen where Seungkwan and Joshua were sitting at the table, sipping their coffees and gossiping over whatever was on Seungkwan’s phone. Jihoon nodded at them and poured himself a mug, and although he enjoyed the warmth of it, he didn’t like how this was the coffee you got him hooked on once upon a time and eventually became his favorite. He could remember many times when you’d go out of your way to bring this to him when other brands didn’t cut it for him and how he threatened the members if they had some without his permission, and how you had to smuggle some so he wouldn’t kill them.

“Good morning Hyung,” Seungkwan greeted him happily when he sat next to them.

“Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

Jihoon nodded. “Same as every other time.” He had a sip, hating the flavor and he wanted nothing more than to throw it in the sink and buy a different brand. One that different leaves bitter taste in his mouth, no pun intended.

Joshua smacked the younger boy, either to get him to shut up or to focus on what was happening, but either way, he didn’t acknowledge him again.

He did notice that while Seungkwan was sweaty, he hadn’t showered and probably wouldn’t until everyone did. Joshua was also still in his most comfortable attire, not seeming in a rush to get ready anytime soon.

While many other times, he reveled in the silence when he was around his friends, today it seemed too much so he headed into the living room to play a video game. He tried acting as unbothered as possible, focusing more on knocking out his opponent in Mortal Kombat so he could proceed to the next level. Every so often the doorbell would ring and then he’d hear a new voice greeting him and then running into a room. At one point, Soonyoung walked out of the bathroom, dripping wet, sans towel, asking if they had more shampoo because the bottle ran out.

Though he didn’t miss the glares Soonyoung threw at him. Jihoon knew that his best friend’s long simmering anger would eventually erupt and he knew he’d have to take it all until they could be on good terms again. Soonyoung hadn’t been particularly warm towards Jihoon since he found out you’d gotten engaged to Jooheon and he probably heard every conspiracy theory that Hoshi had spewed, trying to see what really happened. Though it wasn’t fair to you or him, he merely said it didn’t work out between you.

He sighed in frustration, trying to concentrate. He would not focus on the betrayal of his brothers ditching him. He had much better things to do than to think of why they were leaving, like work on his music, and go to the new ramen place that opened up. He could ask Beomju if he wanted to….no, Beomju already had plans to go too. Whatever, he didn’t want to hang out with him anyway. Jihoon could also reorganize his bedroom space. It needed a serious cleaning….actually, he didn’t want to touch anything. Some of your stuff was still mixed in with it and he wasn’t sure what you’d still need. He wasn’t petty enough to burn your belongings, but he also wasn’t a big enough person to return them to you in person. He hadn’t seen you in awhile and he thought it’d be weird if he just showed up out of the blue, especially because he wouldn’t be in the state to remain calm. The mere thought often sent him into a panic or anger attack, and then he’d mope. Well, not mope, but he’d eventually spiral into a web of things that made no sense and he’d try tto figure the riddle out.

Chan sat down next to him, brushing his teeth while trying to style his hair. “Hyung, aren’t you gonna get ready yet?” The foamy paste was all over his mouth and Jihoon hoped it wouldn’t get on anywhere except the sink.

“I’m not going,” he said simply, more focused on how to survive the round without taking any more hits. “I have to work on my music after this and possibly move things around in the studio. It’s gonna be a busy day.” When his opponent delivered the fatal blow on screen, he threw the controller on the floor with a little more force than necessary, scaring Chan. “Goddamn it!”

“Hyung,” he said quietly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m fine. I’m just hungry. Do you want anything? Are you sure? I offered.”

Jihoon stood up, stretching in the process and then made his way to the kitchen where he found Jeonghan helping Wonwoo with his contacts. At this he sighed in annoyance. Since when were you important enough that Wonwoo would ditch his glasses? You always said Wonwoo should be comfortable with you at all times, no matter the time, place, or occasion.

“Don’t move so much or I’m gonna poke your eye,” Jeonghan warned.

“It burns. This probably wasn’t a good idea.”

No shit. “Is it even necessary?” Jihoon found himself asking. “No one’s gonna care either way. It’s not like we’re having this epic concert….” he trailed off awkwardly, realizing it wasn’t his place to critique his friend.

“Ahh, the rumor’s true. You’re really not going.”

He shook his head at Jeonghan, giving him the same excuse. “I’m busy. Things to do and deadlines to meet.”

Wonwoo patted Jeonghan’s shoulder in thanks and the older boy disappeared with a wan smile directed at both. “Let me go see if anyone needs help adjusting their ties. Wonwoo, I’ll have the solution in my pocket for when you need it. Jihoon….just don’t overwork yourself.”

Wonwoo then decided to turn his attention to the producer, walking towards him until he turned Jihoon around and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, hugging his back.

“What are you doing?”

“You look like you need a hug so I’m giving you one.” Wonwoo rocked him side to side, humming whatever came to his head.

“Why? Nothing’s wrong. I’m not sick or dying.” Jihoon resisted the urge to break away from him. Why couldn’t anyone see that he was okay? Sure, he was gonna be by himself for the day and no one was gonna check in on him, but he was a grown man.

Wonwoo squeezed his shoulders once more before letting go. “Why couldn’t you just have gotten your shit together?”

At that, he had no response, because he wasn’t sure if it was his question to answer.

21 notes · View notes

inventors-fair · 5 years ago

Text

“Two Mechanics” Commentary: It All Comes Together

Well, this was a surprisingly popular contest. I know there was a fair bit of hype for it, but we got enough entries that I had to worry about shutting people out. That’s unusual to say the least, but quite pleasing to know that so many people are engaging.

I’m going to take a lesson and look at these from the lens of intention rather than explicit nit-pickiness. There will be a “nitpicks” part at the end, but that’s just for minor improvements if need be. I make small mistakes like that all the time, and if you wanna ignore that and focus on the commentary, feel free to do so. However, the nitpicks are reflections of polish. The extent to which something has nitpicks does affect judgement.

Additionally! If you’re reading this, we’d like to know: do you read your own commentary, all the commentary, or do you skip it entirely? And if you’re skipping some or all of the commentary, what would help you engage with it? I would like to point out that reading the comments on everyone’s cards can potentially help with your own experimentation in the future and help with design choices. However, if that’s not what you’re after, we would like to know how to improve that experience.

Some cards are marked as “JUDGE PICKS,” which are cards that were close to being runners-up or winners but, for lack of space, are presented here as examples instead.

Let’s get to your wonderful blends.

@abzanhero — Herald of the Saviors (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: I really never expected to see Imprint and Fateful Hour on the same card together. I like how this is a strange, fragile tutor that can really improve the late-game if you adjust it just right, but in a build like Solemnity/Unlife Combo, this can be an insane win-con.

What we can improve: There’s not much to improve upon here. My two main issues are that 1) there’s an expectation that Fateful Hour cards have a smaller effect that’s improved by the hour (Gather the Townsfolk) although that’s not a requirement, I suppose, and 2) Imprint could have just been a search/exile clause, and there’s no real need for it to have that specific keyword. That said, there’s no reason that it couldn’t have it; it’s just minor flavor questions.

Nitpicks: “Fateful Hour” should be italicized. Mechanically, you need to point out that there needs to be “tokens that are a copy of a creature card exiled with Herald of the Saviors,” as the ETB trigger can be copied.

@aethernalstars — Collective Knowledge

What I like: Blue toolbox is a pretty fun archetype, and I do like that last option the best of all. It’s a pretty crazy mill strategy that can work really well with wheel effects. Spiral/Crypt builds could use this card for sure.

What we can improve: Without reminder text, anyone looking at this card without extensive rules knowledge would be absolutely lost. I get the vibe you were going for, but this card begs for reminder text. At uncommon, there’s no excuse for this many options without it. I understand that you might have been extremely cluttered for space with reminder text. In that case, that should have been a clue to go back to the drawing board. Flavorfully, I’m also getting major clashes between the two mechanics you’re using. Escalate is a vibrant, exciting feel of increasing public power. Cipher is a covert and subtle mechanic antithetical to Escalate’s vibrancy. I don’t understand what feel this card was going for at all.

Nitpicks: See notes about reminder text.

@askkrenko — Mocking Goblins

What I like: Goblin Diplomats comes to mind here. I can imagine that on the table in a 4-5 person commander game, this could get amazing in the late-game. Putting Overload on a permanent is actually pretty interesting, and I’m fairly certain that that actually works, right? I can’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t. Because of the multiplayer aspect I imagine that if this was drafted it would be in a Conspiracy-type set... Wow, yeah, this would be a fun limited card.

What we can improve: There’s not too much to improve here mechanically. I will say that the name and flavor text aren’t grabbing me at all. It’s been done before in similar ways, and heck, that’s fine for tropes. Just could have used some more spice.

Nitpicks: Definitely needed reminder text here, once again, as most non-evergreen mechanics do.

@bluebread-mage — Vorel, Rejected Strategist

What I like: I actually didn’t know Vorel’s full story, so I appreciate you adding that in there. It gives an interesting explanation of the mechanics you chose to use, and this is a slightly different version of +1/+1 counter interaction that I’ve seen around for contests like this, so kudos for that.

What we can improve: I won’t go ahead and say that this card straight up doesn’t work, but the hoops you have to jump through to make it actually do anything are difficult to say the least. So, you have Riot, and he gets a counter, and all your creatures gain evolve. Do you play a creature after that? Probably not if this is turn three. But then next turn... How do you get a counter on Vorel now? And if you do, without the means of a specific continuous counter generation like Forced Adaptation, you’d need to cast a spell to give him a counter, which means that you’re probably spending mana, which means you have less mana for a big creature, which means that the creature you DO cast probably won’t trigger evolve, and — do you see where I’m going with this? He’s asking for too many resources to make the effect worthwhile. I love the flavor idea. I love what you tried to do. It’s just not practical in gameplay terms.

Nitpicks: Your “evolve” reminder text should have been reworded to show what it would do for every creature; as it is, it would only do Vorel, which isn’t what your rules text says.

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion — Diabolic Seer

What I like: So, I was reading the text, and then I got to the last line, and I was really pleasantly surprised that you brought the exploit back around to add the flash clause. Pretty great name, too, if a little meta; if the cards you were riffing off didn’t exist already, it would be radical.

What we can improve: In short, this card is balanced, assuming that:

You’re not playing any sacrifice strategies in the two colors with the most sacrifice strategies.

You don’t have any other creatures to search up a recursive win condition.

In constructed, you’re not playing fetchlands.

You’re not searching up further answers after already searching up recursion.

...and that’s my main issue with this card. Repeatable tutoring is absolutely bonkers good in literally any format whatsoever. Four-mana repeatable tutoring is, to say the least, broken. And you’re potentionally giving it flash? That is, IMO, a break. Small personal notes: I don’t know why this card doesn’t have a subtype; and the flavor text is vague. I don’t understand the character’s goals, role, or place in the world.

Nitpicks: “...put it into your hand, then shuffle your library. Until your next turn, if a creature was exploited this turn, you may cast that card as though it had flash.” Additionally, I understand the artist is Nataša Ilinčić, but I had to go on a Google expedition for that. Anglicizing to “Natasa Ilincic” may have been a better choice.

For those interested, the artist is actually fantastic. Check ‘em out HERE.

@corporalotherbear — Underworld Escapist

What I like: “Spirit Rogue” is an interesting combo that I like. Gives some neat little feeling of why it’s an escapist, or at least it’s a complimentary type. I also enjoy the idea of the escape being an adventure flavorfully.

What we can improve: ...does this card work? SHOULD it work? So it goes on an adventure, you cast it normally, it dies, you cast it from your graveyard on an adventure, rinse and repeat. Okay, that’s probably what you were going for. In that case, my goodness, this needs to be rare. Nigh-infinite recursion that can make bodies is probably too powerful. Personally as well, I understand the Amass and the flavor text, but what does a rogue making an army have anything to do with escaping? And why would it be an escape if you can cast it from your hand first? I’m really iffy on the eventual flavor of it all.

Nitpicks: None, as I understand the comprehensive rules would need to either be rewritten or re-explored for the second side to work. Hm, but wouldn’t it be cool if it was “You may send ~ on an adventure from your graveyard.” But, again, that’s more of a hypothetical question than even a nitpick.

@dabudder — Davriel, Pact Breaker

What I like: Bringing back characters for further exploration is always fun. We got a couple cool folks from WAR, certainly, and it’s always a pleasant surprise.

What we can improve: I just straight up don’t like the gimmick at all. Planeswalkers shouldn’t even have gimmicks, IMO. The first ability is fine, I would respect that if the rest of the card was completely changed. Fateseal is an unfun mechanic that, on this card, you can activate easily. I don’t have much to say about this card because of how it’s based in unfun gimmicks. I read through the wiki to get an idea of what Davriel’s like, and while I do appreciate how you tried to capture a lot of complexity in a single card, this isn’t it. I feel you’re trying to tell a massive story in a way that it doesn’t need to be told.

Nitpicks: Make sure you change your rarity, which I will assume was a mistake.

@deafeningsandwichpeach — Tempting Angel

What I like: Well, this card is weird. And I need to clarify, this is in the “What I like” section because I do like weird. It’s not broken, which is fine. Wow, though, the... Exile then Show and Tell and all? On a 9/9 flier? This card would destroy some games, and I could see it being a cube all-star and a crazy commander blink monstrosity. Once this hits the board, it needs to be removed IMMEDIATELY. Oh, and then... Containment Priest nonsense. Man, this could be a wacky card.

What we can improve: I will say, that a 9/9 body may be way too big. A six-mana 6/6 may have been more appropriate, and more balanced. In the late-game, if your opponent doesn’t have great draws, they’d probably be out of a card to put onto the battlefield. I have the feeling this couldn’t be a draftable card for that reason alone... Eh, maybe I’m just paranoid.

Nitpicks: Flying and Convoke need to be separated by a comma, not a semicolon. I think the same can be said for “permanent” and “then” in the second line.

@dimestoretajic — Gruul Rampager

What I like: That flavor text is friggin’ phenomenal, man. It’s a Gruul feel, it’s an orc feel, it’s a berserker feel. You captured an uncommon feel as well, too. I like how it’s a little more red than green, even though the two are definitely in good alignment with each other.

What we can improve: +1/+1 counters and -1/-1 counters should not go on the same card. Full stop. I know it’s mechanically cute, and I’ll be honest, I like how they work on this card. But it’s one of those Magic rules to avoid confusion and to stop weird triggers. The game can handle it, but it’s not fun to figure out. There’s acceptable weirdness and then there’s just inherent guidelines.

Nitpicks: Why does this card have a color indicator? Also, you misspelled “Berserker” in the typeline.

@evscfa1 — Burning Trails (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: This is a very difficult card to judge. Searching up two lands is powerful, but there are more efficient ways to do it eternally, so this card itself isn’t broken. Jund Lands and Gruul Ramp love it absolutely. I’m thinking of this in commander because, well, there’s no other reason for a rare ramp spell like this. I’d hate to open this in draft...or would I? Slightly different/better/multicolored Cultivate isn’t the worst thing in the world, possibly. This card is making me think. The versatility is pretty interesting as well, and I can see where land-matters cards would like it.

What we can improve: I’m really torn on whether or not this card needs both kinds of recursion, because as interesting as it is, my gut really isn’t understanding why they both NEED to be there. Is there an interaction I’m not seeing? I don’t think so, I think it’s just different recursion, and yeah, there’s lands-in-hand-for-retrace, plus the sacrifice to filter, but that’s just efficiency, not necessarily synergy. Honestly, this could also be an uncommon for that cost, I think. It would be a powerful-as-all-getout uncommon, but it just doesn’t feel rare to me in terms of crazy power level.

Nitpicks: None.

@forteleijon — Cordeceyp Crawler

What I like: Well, besides your lovely photograph, I think that the mechanics you chose work well flavorfully. A mutating fungus that can crawl out of the grave is pretty cool!

What we can improve: Firstly, if you can, I would highly recommend downloading Magic Set Editor for complex cards like this. Secondly, did you forget the escape cost about exiling cards from your graveyard? Otherwise, you can just cast this from your graveyard every turn without restrictions like Gravecrawler. I mean, this card isn’t Hogaak, but still. That probably wasn’t your intention, but once again, we come to reminder text. Rare cards sometimes eschew reminder text in complex sets, but mechanics like Mutate demand reminder text through and through.

Nitpicks: Since “escape” is a verb on almost every creature card that uses it, the last ability can say “You may have Cordeceyp Crawler escape mutated onto target creature you control” as opposed to a trigger. Additionally, is that a misspelling of “Cordeceyp?”

@fractured-infinity — Emmara, Voice of the Conclave

What I like: I’m sort of content with the fact that Emmara is everyone’s Selesnya favorite. In terms of this card, I think that you chose two good mechanics to represent her and her guild. PT checks out, mana cost checks out, wording all checks out.

What we can improve: ...but she doesn’t do anything by herself, and that feels a little frustrating to me as a rare card. There’s nothing inherently or objectively wrong with this design, and there are plenty of proliferate cards that just proliferate by themselves. I would much rather have had a rare card that did at least something to make those abilities better. What if she made a token upon entering or placed a counter or something? I dunno, I’m just iffy on her power on the board.

Nitpicks: The word “Populate” you put in the reminder text should be lowercase.

@gollumni — Danz, Ascenscion Assistant

What I like: “Demon Noble” is a great typeline. I can see how this would make politics very, very complicated. Do you want to build around having no cards in hand and perhaps using the graveyard as a resource? You can discourage people from attacking and make political blocks as well. This is a very political card!

What we can improve: I can’t think of any specific improvements to this card. I think that it’s one of those cards where you yourself don’t want to be the monarch, and that’s a complex idea that I don’t know will always work out well in a draft environment like this may be intender to supplement. After all, 99% of limited games are won through combat damage. Such is fate. I think for this particular contest, I’m a little saddened that Partner doesn’t really...do anything. This contest was supposed to be about two mechanics interacting, y’know? And Partner is a mechanic that doesn’t really interact with any other on-card mechanic in the same way that our winners did.

Nitpicks: “Ascension” is misspelled in the name.

@greensunzenith — Eversworn Tombguard

What I like: Hell yeah, this card is cool. A knight sent to protect a grave or graveyard? Well, it’s not mechanically tied to your graveyard, but maybe it’s a burial site! I see that Orzhov symbol in the background. Interesting, how they might be using new techniques to protect themselves on a new Ravnica. This is an amazing draft card with possible constructed potential. I’m a big fan.

What we can improve: Besides the eternalization being a Bolas mechanic, I feel that, unfortunately, this is one of those cards where the Afterlife mechanic would be better being a different one, or no mechanic at all. Of course, that’s not your fault, and this contest asked for it. If you’re saving this card for a cube or a custom set, I would replace Afterlife with just a death trigger. Maybe it would read better, if you want to keep Afterlife, as “Eversworn Tombguard has afterlife X, where X is its power.”

Nitpicks: None.

@haru-n-harkel — Wistar, Lab Rat

What I like: I was absolutely not expecting a multicolored adventure or even an off-colored adventure. This poor ratty is going off and learning about everything, and then they come back and distribute their knowledge. So strange! Adventures are interesting cards for sure. I’ll have to find the download for that, because I just scoured my MSE and I can’t seem to find it. And you know what, I was going to gripe about keyword counters technically not being a “””new mechanic””” but whatever, that’s a personal interpretation that doesn’t change the fact that this is a fine card.

What we can improve: Is this supposed to be on Eldraine? I don’t really understand why this card is black at all. What lab are they supposed to be in? I see “lab” and I think “Innistrad” but that’s bias... What does research have to do with returning a creature? Are scientists clerics? ARE they a scientist? The gist of what I’m getting at is that this card has a couple cool mechanical ideas but I have no idea what it’s really supposed to represent. I don’t get a sense of place or strong meaning from this card.

Nitpicks: It’s hard to tell the difference between abilities in the main body; another indentation might fix that, or it may just be too much text. And also... This is the pettiest, most useless nitpick I’ve ever given, but your set symbol in this specific frame is really hard to distinguish. I would futz around with it for a bit.

@hiygamer — Woven Repetition

What I like: I can see how you got clever with this one. The splice and the rebound make for some interesting combinations. The cost is probably appropriate, if a bit high. You’d want to make some really carefully calculated decisions, unless you’re just pitching lands, to give that big spell rebound.

What we can improve: Rebound absolutely needs reminder text. Someone opens this in a booster pack and it’s going to be a head-scratcher for sure. I’m glad that it works (Thanks, Cast Through Time!) because I almost thought that it didn’t, but man, a lot of players will be confused with this at common. That’s the major issue; was that a misclick or something? This is most definitely an uncommon or rare card for complexity alone. Personally, I think that it would be best to also only exile one card, and you know what, this really could be mono-blue. What’s the white in it?

Nitpicks: None.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes — Steam Blast

What I like: Yup, that is indeed someone getting blasted by steam. It’s a solid bounce card that feels both Izzet-y and could see play on any other world. It’s a powerful spell in the UR archetype that could see plenty of nice draft play. The consensus is that the replicate will indeed see the entwined-ness. Hm, will it see more than one mode? Complex ideas at play here!

What we can improve: I know you have a style to maintain, but modal spells are significantly improved by the bullet points, and this card is hard to parse. As a rare, while complex, it’s a lot of colors to invest in a removal spell. Fine for an archetype, but I suppose that’s the nature of replicate. I don’t know, this card just doesn’t grab me. Maybe it’s the name, maybe it’s the nature of rare removal. There’s nothing inherently ‘wrong’ with it, though.

Nitpicks: None.

@ignorantturtlegaming — Heartwarming Reunion

What I like: This is indeed a feel. You chose a good image and flavorful bond for this card. With a few tweaks, this could actually be a really powerful GW archetype card with some great draft implications and enchantment synergies.

What we can improve: There are a few things to work on with this card.

The name “Heartwarming Reunion” implies a moment that would best be represented on an instant/sorcery card. I’m thrown off by its continuous nature.

Soulbond doesn’t affect how a creature is cast. “Nontoken creatures you control have soulbond” and it would affect them like Rhythm of the Wild.

What does bolstering have to do with being a reunion? A relationship I can see but there’s a massive flavor disconnect. Also, it should be “paired creatures” and not “creature pairs.”

I understand what the flavor text is trying to do, but it bunches up the text above it and also doesn’t say anything that the name hasn’t told us already.

In short, there a few great ideas but they’re stuck between a couple of stumbling blocks.

Nitpicks: The last ability should be shortened to “Paired creatures you control have lifelink and vigilance.”

@joecurryat — Forsaken Devotee

What I like: I remember seeing that art a little while back, the Eldrazified Vampire. I loved Innistrad’s art direction. Anywho, though. I think that indeed Monstrosity is a fine enough mechanic for the Eldrazi.

What we can improve: See above comments about reminder text. The first thing that comes to mind is the fact that it’s a human cleric. Even excusing the vampiric origins of the art, why is it becoming monstrous? It feels like there’s a disconnect between what the card wants to be and what it is. Annihilator was certainly...a choice. If you play this on turn 5-6 and monstrosify it on turn 7, you get a 9/9 lifelink with annihilator. The desire for powerful cards is strong, but annihilator isn’t fun, was never fun, and needs a major overhaul to be fun again. This card just isn’t it. Additionally, and this is more polish, but what on earth is that flavor text trying to say? Who’s saying that? Who is them? If it’s that hard to parse, it’s even harder for it to add meaning to the card.

Nitpicks: “has,” not “gains.”

@kavinika — Undercity Thug

What I like: The Ravnican (I’m assuming) undercity is a fantastic place for all sorts of mercenaries. The name’s not going to win any awards, but it gets the job done in a cool and flavorful way. That’s a very strong exploit ability, and would almost be first-pickable in a lot of drafts. The extra potential removal makes this formidable.

What we can improve: See notes about reminder text. When looking at this contest, we were hoping that there would be instances where the two mechanics compliment each other. This is the second revolt/exploit combo of this contest, and I’m a little frustrated that they don’t have any meaningful interaction. Sure, they both involve potential permanents leaving the battlefield in different roundabout ways, but it’s not attacking on the same turn that it’s exploiting a creature. The distance just isn’t working.

I usually don’t comment on this, because I respect the fact that we’re not professional writers, but that flavor text needs serious revision. An active antagonistic oppressor is fine in a game about conflict. The language is... Well, it needs revision.

Nitpicks: None.

@koth-of-the-hammerpants — Ceaseless Soul-chief. (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: “Orc Spirit Warrior.” Hell. Yes. It’s a big smasher, a big finisher, an anthem, a warlord, and they’re so full of souls and anger that they’ll return even stronger than before. I want to draft this card, I want to build casually with this card, and I want to see a world in which this card can come back strong again and again.

What we can improve: I can’t think of any significant improvements. I will say that it might have been better, unfortunately, if this card was not a spirit. I can make my personal justifications however I want and I may love it, but ghosts probably shouldn’t have other ghosts in them.

Nitpicks: “Chief” definitely needs to be capitalized.

@machine-elf-paladin — Legacy Forger (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: The name actually captured me. it’s a great warrior name for sure. Mentor and Renown are two +1/+1 counter mechanics that don’t necessarily have amazing synergy, but you made them work here. This is a powerful combat tool, great use of mentor in green, and makes combat complicated for your opponents. Really awesome use of just using keywords to get your point across! Simple and effective.

What we can improve: The flavor text could use some clarification. Reads a bit clunky.

Nitpicks: Are you using MSE M15 Mainframe? If not, I would recommend it so you can get the flavor bar in and space out the words more.

@misterstingyjack — Promenade Parade (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: You can be aggro in a pinch, or you can wait and go a little wider, and even pick up a better token in a pinch! This is a pretty cool card that makes fantastic use of Ascend to bring across a flavorful card. “If you have the city’s blessing, the city grows with citizens.” Like — that’s so awesome?? I loved how you made a really surprisingly happy card in the aftermath of an otherwise dark event. And heck, it’s not a bad card either.

What we can improve: The only real “issue” that’s not even an issue is the flavor text and the name/flavor combo. The flavor text itself is in “gets the job done” territory, which you know what, that’s fine, they don’t all have to be Hemmingway. But I would also assume a Parade would be, like, a bigger event, and you could get a lot of people there. Right? Am I going crazy? This is a serious reach, so don’t take this as a design critique per se. All polish and pedantry. You did good.

Nitpicks: None.

@morbidlyqueerious — Swarming Platoons

What I like: I had to read this a fair bit to really get what was going on here. This is actually really complex, and I like the implications of what’s going on! You can get a 4/4, a 2/2 and two 1/1s, or two 2/2s. Like, that’s a lot of options in two words and two numbers! I think that I actually like the mechanics of this card a lot more than I had upon originally considering it. That text would make for a really great sort of Modern Horizons-y card.

What we can improve: I’m really lost as to how you decided to place this card in the universe. Servos are artificially created inventions, sure, so...are they natural now? Is that how Kaladesh is evolving, per your flavor text? Why is it offering answers? I don’t really see the question. You’ve made it a construct, and yet calling it nature. And the name “Platoon” is a soldier-y thing, and doesn’t convey an insectile invention feel. In short, fantastic mechanics, flavor is all over the place and confusing.

Nitpicks: “Platoon” also doesn’t need to be pluralized.

@naban-dean-of-irritation — Starforged Legion

What I like: That’s a badass name, so that’s a great start. I’m amazed that that second ability is only a single sentence that I actually can’t find any flaws with, so that’s impressive to say the least. I assume this is sort of Theros-based? “Starforged” seems to imply that, but you know what, even though I can’t place it, this card makes me want to learn more about the world. That’s a point in its favor.

What we can improve: I don’t think there’s much to improve aside from the fact that it’s narrow. Incredibly narrow. Unfathomably narrow. Seriously, getting this card to work at all is an absolute mess of mana. Many players would love it, and I mean, fifteen mana for thirty power across six creatures would be pretty cool! But god, the effort that would have to go into making this really work and live the dream... Maybe it’s okay, you know? It’ll never see any play outside of someone’s five-color kitchen sink mess-around-and-find-out deck, but... Shoot, y’know, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Can’t call it a winner, but it’s a winner in my heart.

Nitpicks: None.

@nine-effing-hells — Arcanist of Ulamog.

What I like: I will definitely admit that I did not expect devoid to show up again. I also did not expect a processor wizard. You know, this card has some interesting multiplayer aspects. Your opponents also have flashback, but that flashback can be used for your own cards to copy, and... Heh. This is a cute idea with some technical interaction that I like a lot.

What we can improve: This card is also basically unplayable without dampers. Giving all cards flashback? Unless you have Leyline of the Void, Drannith Magistrate, etc, but in limited, that’s going to backfire like nobody’s business. And if your OPPONENT has either one of those cards, good lord... Yeah, this feels like a crazy bas time for you the controller. Sure you get a 4/4 for four out of it, but I don’t think that’s enough to combat the amount of crazy flashback you’ll be getting to oppose your plans. Could be fun in multiplayer though.

Nitpicks: That wording on the second ability seems correct. Someone smarter than me might find something wrong with it. Worth checking a rules guru.

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff — Pharika’s Forgotten

What I like: Using dredge was a bold, bold choice. Despite it being a broken mechanic, the fact is that in a vacuum this card could work really well. I think in limited there could be some fun graveyard shenanigans for eventually getting this card back or for using other resources from your graveyard. Honestly, this card is not top-tier, and it has to be that way, because otherwise whoo boy that would be a mess. No, it’s middle-of-the-road, pretty natural, pretty great, pretty synergistic, and not the worst it could have been for using a still-broken mechanic.

What we can improve: I don’t think there’s much that needs to be improved, even though this didn’t really grab me by the throat and make me build around it. I’ve never been one for reckless self-mill but I love mill as a strategy. Who am I kidding, this card’s probably fine. Would make for an INSANE cube uncommon.

Nitpicks: 1). “...mill three CARDS.” 2) Missing two closed parentheses. 3) Needs an emdash after Escape and no space between the dash and the mana cost. 4) “Exile” should be capitalized. And the fifth you already knew about, so don’t worry too much.

@rasputin-gold — Resonant Call

What I like: This card caused a lot of potential discussion in the chat. The ruling is something completely unusual and would have to have a lot of crazy stuff following it in the comprehensive rules. In general, the consensus was that it worked, and it would have a lot of statistics around it that people would talk about. Interesting cost, interesting wording, and the name is actually kind of weirdly nice.

What we can improve: And this card is unfathomably broken. If you have four copies of a card you haven’t drawn, and you’re going first, and you put a single counter on Resonant Call to name something, assuming 51 cards left in your library, what is the probability that you hit the named card? ... I don’t know my math that well, but in limited, if you have a single card you haven’t drawn that you’d like to cast for free, you have a little over a 60% chance of hitting that card. For a common, this is insane and build-around-able for cheating out literally anything you want faster than most any other card. And that’s pretty busted. I don’t think this concept is salvageable. It’s just too risky. Also, see notes on reminder text.

Nitpicks: Not a critique, but is that a flea in the art?

@real-aspen-hours — Seedsower Oke

What I like: This card is pretty delightful. They’re a druid, a tree, and they make little tree babies. What’s not to love? Convoke is a fantastic mechanic, EVOKE is a fantastic mechanic, and this card could be used for a variety of getting things on and off the battlefield. It’s a card I’d love to see in limited and I think for a very casual commander audience it could work well too. I don’t think that conceptually there’s much to improve upon with this card. It’s got a great feel and I like who they are.

What we can improve: I feel that you could really have made this a 4/4 or even a 4/5. It deserves better stats for a big tree boy! That’s all, just one degree more of pushing to really make him good.

Nitpicks: Evoke should always be the last ability on a card.

@reaperfromtheabyss — Zataz, Renegade Researcher

What I like: I’m going to assume that there are some three-color counter cards in this archetype that you’re envisioning? Or at least, three-color draft support. It’s pretty reminiscent of Master Biomancer, actually. That’s not a bad thing, because that card was great, and as a three-color legend that makes artifact dudes this card is pretty great too. I would have to see a lot of support to make him work in a draft, but 100% he would be an awesome counter-based commander.

What we can improve: There aren’t any major gripes with this card. He does feel...busy. Maybe it’s the frame, maybe it’s the nameline. But I’m seriously questioning “Vedalken Elf” Those are two majorly separate species that aren’t connected in any significant way, and maybe you’re going for a Simic kind of blend but honestly, it’s far more confusing than innovative.

Nitpicks: Perhaps you could have just said “Zataz’s power” instead of the full name. Wouldn’t have made a huge difference, but.

@shakeszx — Recurring All

What I like: Two-mana 3/3s are a big risk. Aggressive greenery is pretty standard for the archetype and often shows up in competitive aggro builds, so I appreciate you channeling this. Cute name, too!

What we can improve: I’ve already talked about +1/+1 and -1/-1 counters, and again, it’s cute how you’re making them work here, with the evolve and all, but they just don’t belong. Maybe it’s just me but I also don’t understand the flavor text at all. Do the Golgari have an ooze issue? I thought they liked oozes. Slime Molding says otherwise. Boros would have made sense, perhaps Azorius. Not Golgari.

Nitpicks: Use shift+enter to separate quotes and attribution in your flavor text on MSE.

@snugz — Roar of Revival

What I like: Confession: I never played Battlebond and don’t like team Magic at all. So, forget all that, let’s talk about it from the perspective of someone who DOES like that sort of stuff! This card is invaluable. A big win, pulling life out of your butt and going crazy. Big life gain isn’t my favorite thing either, but you managed to make it new and improved and flavorful and interesting and gave it camaraderie.

What we can improve: I don’t really have any major improvements for this one. It’s everything that a lifegain spell can be. I think my only caution is that, well, this only really works in 2HG. You gotta target two players, and in commander, that other big multiplayer format, this card is useless. Actually, in basically any other format this card is useless. Unless you want to play Tainted Remedy combo. ... Hmmm...

Nitpicks: This card might read better as “Each of up to two target players gain X life.” Or, if you wanna keep 2HG stuff, “Two target players each gain X life.” Also, have you considered reinstalling to the newest MSE? You don’t have to, you just seem like someone who could really push that stuff to its full potential.

@somethingtothatextent — Expansive Growth.

What I like: It’s an interesting use of cost mechanics. Overload necessarily costs more, but Convoke helps it cost less. I like that balance! The method of making rare cards feel rare and making their effects seem awesome isn’t always easy to do. I think that you dipped into some nice territory here.

What we can improve: Firstly, the name doesn’t feel as expressively creative as it could be. Without even a little context, the complex/unique mechanics lose a bit of touch. Mechanics are more important though, and I think that the way you were forced to make this mechanic happen resulted in the wording being really clunky.

Now, I do have a potential solution: Imagine a card with: “Put a +1/+1 counter on target creature you control, then you may double the number of +1/+1 counters on target creature you control.” So the spell now can give a counter and potentially double another creature, OR you can go ham with it like your costs want to. Does that make sense? I want to play with this card for sure. It’s good! It’s straight up a good card! Just needs world placement and some wording adjustment.

Nitpicks: None.

@sorustyitshines — Phagus, Eater of Worlds

What I like: Mythic dragons are always a smash and a hit. The devouring of historical permanents combines with the flavor text in such a way that actually makes the flavor text kind of moot. Like, it’s eating history! That’s pretty great! Hardcasting this card will always make for some groans, but the reduction gives it an appropriately mythic status. I think that it’s really powerful as hell, but it’s not unbalanced, I don’t think.

What we can improve: Really, the only major improvement is the name and the mechanical link. “Eater of Worlds” has been done in a lot of IPs. It’s cute, but. Mechanically, I feel disconnected between the cost reduction and the devour. Both of them have an interesting flavor link, I’ll give you that. They just don’t have anything to do with each other, and you’re building effectively two different decks. The things you might sacrifice to Phagus aren’t going to help you cast it again, right?

Nitpicks: “Haste” should be lowercase. The ellipses in your flavor text should be a comma and the period after “all” could possibly be a colon. Or, tbh, this card would be fine without it. That’s a lot of text. Also, I’m curious as to why you need “historic permanents” (which should be “historic permanent CARDS”) instead of just regular historic cards. The card’s already hinted at the fact that it can eat concepts.

@starch255 — Frantic Recruiter

What I like: Replicate now can indeed work with casting permanent spells, so kudos for that. I just had to look up casting and copying and the comprehensive rules for how replicate and rebound work, and as far as I can tell, yeah, this works exactly how it should! I feel the kinda Boros vibe throughout this, and casting from exile with a bunch of tokens, well, yeah, that can be pretty gnarly. A bunch of 1/1s are interesting. What you’ve done is effectively made a RW Reclaim the Wastes that can be doubled. And... You know, I wanna build with it, so that’s cool. Rally the Peasants forreal.

What we can improve: See notes about reminder text. This card is super confusing without it. If you had printed the reminder text I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have needed to look up all that other stuff, harrumph. (I probably would have anyway.) In all seriousness, all my notes about reminder text are here to express that complex ideas need space and you can’t ignore that it’s a necessity especially for ideas like this.

Nitpicks: *GAIN haste UNTIL END OF turn, not “have haste this turn.”

@thedirtside — Lunch Break

What I like: This was one of the most popular and loved cards in the mod channel, so take some kudos there. We loved it. “I’m gonna exert myself and get some food. Y’all can wait for me.” It’s pretty obviously silly, and that’s honestly great. I’ll be honest, silly cards like that outside silver-border rarely win contests, but they’re good for a laugh as long as they’re good.

What we can improve: The first iterations that you submitted, however, were a lot better in my opinion. There’s no reason for this card to be an instant, right? If you’re doing this during a declare attackers phase, that’s not going to change much from if you were to do it during your precombat main phase. Also, the wording really got messed up. I feel that you could have spent more time on flavor text as well. The card’s feeling is great up until then.

Nitpicks: So, a revised card would be a sorcert that reads. “Whenever a creature you control attacks this turn, you may exert it. If you do, it gets +1/+1 until end of turn and you create a Food token. (An exerted creature won’t untap during its controller’s next untap step.)”

@walker-of-the-yellow-path — Spellchaser Hound

What I like: Doggies! Yeah, I don’t even need to see the good boy to know I love him. Mutate feels fresh and funky, the counters are reminiscent of Ikoria without necessarily being set there, and there’s some potential for flavor in the dog fetching more prowess counters as things get crazy.

What we can improve: I really do appreciate the prowess counter reminder text. It might not say what prowess counters do, but that’s another issue. And the fact that you need that shows what we already kind of knew about prowess triggers: they’re complex as hell. Ability counters are...frankly, they’re awful for memory issues as is if you don’t have some kind of ability to remember them and they get equally weird with older cards that check and give permanent abilities... The point is, ability counters are weird as is, and prowess counters are pretty egregious. I don’t think this card is a mistake, but I think it’s really, REALLY complex in the world of Magic, and I would watch out. For what, exactly? ... Don’t worry about it.

Nitpicks: If you don’t have a certain frame, you can ask the chat or ask for a mod who can do their best to make a render of cards like miracle/mutate/etc. The MSE Discord also has a tech support section.

@wolkemesser — Orca, Doom of Argenti

What I like: You managed to make me look up ancient Dominaria lore and yes indeed, Orca and Argenti are Magic people and words that make sense of it all. Gotta love that deep stuff!

What we can improve: See above notes on reminder text. See above notes on +1/+1 and -1/-1 counters. But on this card, it’s especially egregious; she enters with haste, perhaps, she dies, then she returns with persist and a +1/+1 counter and starts all over again, and is basically unkillable because the counters will cancel each other out. Additionally, from what I could find, I don’t understand why she’s an Elemental when the story and her Oracle text mark her as a Demon. With flavor, I also don’t really understand the flavor text at all. She’s based on the real Orca, right? Any in-world flavor text would probably have been more appropriate.

Nitpicks: None beside the aforementioned ones.

I’m going to go hug my dog. Please keep questions and comments about commentary in mind, and if you’re reading this, be loved and be safe. Tomorrow enters a new dawn, a new time... Hm, time.....

—@abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #contest #entries #two mechanics #commentary #long post #this is almost seven and a half thousand words #inventor's fair

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itsagutthing · 5 years ago

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Places Carrie Mathison Has Lived: Washington DC Edition

i’ve been sitting in my own apartment for almost seven months of quarantine so obviously i decided to catalog the places carrie has lived!

starting with her washington DC apartment/townhouse: the homeland revealed behind-the-scenes book included this very handy floorplan, which blows my mind as a resident of new york city. even with the suspension of disbelief that this is a tv show, so of course her apartment would be nicer than that of a real person of her age/income, this apartment is wild. why does she need a second bedroom? she has an eat-in kitchen AND a living room AND a “work room”? she has a giant patio? how much does she pay in rent? my headcanon is that she was super pissed about being shipped back from baghdad so she decided to treat herself to an apartment she can’t really afford, but come on.

we know from episode 3.04 that carrie lives in adams morgan, which some people on the internet think makes no sense (i guess that neighborhood doesn’t have townhouses?), but without any knowledge of washington DC geography i’m going to roll with it.

now for a closer look! please enjoy as i make random observations about each room without any design knowledge or affinity whatsoever.

i’m going to start with her living room because it’s the room we see the most:

first of all, i love the green brick wall. it’s the first image that comes to mind when i think of carrie’s DC apartment - it’s a great color, adds a little texture, and makes the room look really homey. we also have an ugly striped rug, which was probably on super sale, a less ugly striped throw pillow that almost matches but doesn’t, and a fun paisley throw pillow that could work if there weren’t so many stripes. there is also a comically tiny reading lamp, which is great.

you can also see onto her patio, which has multiple very nice chaises with cushions! there is a 0% chance carrie remembers to bring those cushions inside when it rains, which means they’re probably a little musty. i want that patio.

there are also a bunch of framed photos scattered around the first floor, some of which i’m going to guess were taken while she was in iraq, based on the architecture. i like the idea of carrie taking great care to print and frame these photos while not unpacking any of the boxes we’ll see in her bedroom.

this shot shows a few framed photos on the wall, but it’s hard to tell what they are. the first one looks like a building, and the other two might feature groups of people? i couldn’t be bothered to actually look for a better screenshot, so i guess i’ll never know the truth.

now for her work room/study/location of many a manic spiral:

(i had to include the ~iconic~ timeline shot!) the giant corkboard is both visually striking and hilarious, since i picture carrie having to go to michael’s or whatever to buy enough tiny boards to fill her wall. did the cashier say anything when she bought these ~70 pin boards? amazon obviously existed in 2011 but wasn’t as ubiquitous as it is now, so she probably bought them in person.

i like the top shot because it shows that carrie’s tv is sort of centered along her Conspiracy Wall, so i can see her throughout the years half-watching tv and half-studying the wall to see if she can think of anything new to add.

the kitchen:

carrie’s kitchen is kind of boring, since she never uses it, but it’s really big and… has a fireplace? you can see the mantel behind frank in that second shot. what a weird choice. also, the woven basket on top of her stove in that first shot looks like the kind of basket you get in a chinese restaurant when you order a lot of dumplings. what could carrie possibly have in there?

here’s another angle of her dining area off of the kitchen. she has so many shelves! and random pottery pieces! i like to think those are all pieces she brought home from the middle east.

and now her bedroom:

carrie clearly loves to mix prints. i like that the curtains have almost a tree-branch pattern. i also like the painting above her bed but the colors don’t really fit with all the gray on her bedding. i would move it to the living room, and put the painting that’s above the mantel in her little breakfast nook in here. also, you can’t see it in this screenshot but carrie is listening to music using a silver ipod classic, which is the ipod i used in 2011 and still have in a drawer somewhere. the comically tiny reading lamp also makes an appearance!

this shot is from the pilot and shows that she still hasn’t fully unpacked her boxes, which is a mood. i like that they appear to be unlabeled.

here’s another angle of her bedroom:

this shows us that she designates different sides of the bed for sleeping vs. listening to moody music, as one does.

we can also see that her full bathroom is off the master bedroom, which is weird to me. if she has someone staying in the guest room, does that person have to go into her room in the middle of the night to pee? or go downstairs? is there another bathroom off the hallway? how many bathrooms does this fucking apartment have?

on that note, when virgil finds her meds in the aspirin bottle in the pilot, does that mean he went all the way upstairs and into her personal bathroom? instead of the bathroom that we never see on the ground floor but is in the floorplan? that seems like an invasion of privacy, although it’s not super clear how close they are as friends, so maybe it’s not that weird.

inside the bathroom:

carrie has so many hand towels. no one person needs that many hand towels. she also has… scarves on a hook? is that multi-colored scarf the same one she wears in 1.11? i don’t think it’s exactly the same but it looks very similar.

she also has a walk-in closet, which is so neatly organized (look at how nicely those t-shirts are folded on the shelf by her head!) and features a lot of stripes, even though i can’t think of a single time we’ve seen her wear stripes. she occasionally wears dress shirts with prints, especially early on, but otherwise she’s a solids girl through and through. why is she buying so many stripes that she won’t wear?

here’s one last shot of her bedroom, which i love because of the jacksonville jazz poster and the free weights on the floor of her room. according to google, there’s a jazz festival in jacksonville, florida every year so i guess that’s what this is from. did she actually go to said festival, and did she go with anyone? i would read that fic.

in summary: green brick wall, lots of patterns, lots of photos + art, a confusing fireplace, and many questions about the bathroom situation!

#homeland #homelandedit #carrie mathison #this is inspired by sara's things carrie wore this week #also unhinged quarantine restlessness #i just want to live in this apartment #sorry to anyone on mobile because i guess read mores still don't work in the year 2020!#cma*

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belladxne · 5 years ago

Text

i will see you where the shadow ends | chapter 2

[see notes for ao3 and ff links]

part of the put your faith in the light that you cannot see series AU: Breath of the Wild pairing: KiriBaku word count: 5,548

chapter 2: there’s a stirring in this head of mine (i can’t find the things i’d known)

Inko, Eijiro is not at all surprised to discover, is a very kind old woman. She tells him a little about the Great Plateau—about how it’s said to be the birthplace of Hyrule, about the nearby ruins of a once-significant temple left abandoned after the decline of the kingdom one hundred years before, about how she’d been living here some fifty years and hasn’t had a visitor in decades. He’s suddenly very glad he did decide to talk with her.

He doesn’t know how to even begin to explain his situation when she asks, mostly because he doesn’t know anything about it himself, but she doesn’t pry further. She warns him of monsters in the area, and offers him her torch to use as a weapon should he run across any.

And when they’re done talking, she gives him directions to her home, and asks—well, insists, really, that he join her for lunch, so long as he hunts around for some of their meal himself and helps her cook. Eijiro’s—well, he’s very anxious to get going and figure out just what it is the voice needs him to do, but he has no idea how to do that, and no idea how to even start to figure it out, so he can’t find a good reason to turn her down.

Also… a home-cooked meal sounds really good and the mysteriously disappeared voice isn’t berating him or anything for so much as considering it, so he doesn’t really want to turn her down. The matter settled, Inko shifts, brushes herself off, and reaches a hand out to him imploringly.

“Be a dear and help me up, won’t you?” she asks, voice tinged with humor. “These old bones just aren’t as sprightly as they used to be, I’m afraid.”

Eijiro’s already reaching to help before she even finishes speaking, smiling brightly as he chirps, “Of course!”

He was right when he thought of her as a little old lady before. She’s not quite a foot shorter than him, but Eijiro still towers over her just a little when he gently pulls her to her feet, and he flashes a huge, sharp-toothed grin when the portly woman grants him a grateful look and thanks him, before turning and gathering her walking stick.

“Glad to help!” He beams—before gasping suddenly. “Your cloak!”

She pauses in her steps, looking down at it as though she expects to find a tear, or a stain. “Hm?”

“It’s—that’s the Sheikah symbol on the back,” he says, bouncing on his feet with excitement because—because—he might be actually getting somewhere, finally!

“Oh!” Understanding crosses her face, and Inko nods. “So it is.”

“So—so if you’re a Sheikah—you have to know something about the cave I just came out of! It was—I don’t know, these two weird sealed rooms, with smooth stone walls that had glowing constellations on them? I was in some, uh, tub of weird blue liquid? The door to get out—the big, main door—it had the Sheikah symbol on it.”

He hadn’t really thought about how batshit the stuff he was saying was, until he sees how high the eyebrows on her face have lifted. But—but if she’s Sheikah, she has to know something. Doesn’t she? Even if this is crazy, she should be able to tell him something.

He knows the desperation is showing on his face, but he can’t help it. If she can tell him anything at all about the strange place he woke up, then maybe it’ll give him some hint of where he needs to go. He has to find the voice—has to help him with—with—he doesn’t even know what, and that’s the whole problem.

“Well, that’s...” Inko flounders, and Eijiro can already tell from the way her brows draw together and the lines on her face deepen in thought that he’s not going to get what he wants out of this conversation. Please, he wants to beg—her, or the Goddesses, or someone. But he doesn’t know what good it would do, and Inko keeps speaking, “quite the story.”

He must look truly pathetic in his disappointment, because it’s unimaginable how thoroughly sympathetic and rueful her own expression grows in response. It almost kinda makes him feel worse, knowing that he must look that pitiful about it.

“I’m sorry, Eijiro,” she says, finally, once she seems to have processed the—well, the mess of a recounting he’d given her. “I spent most of my life with the Sheikah, but I don’t even come close to knowing all their secrets. A lot of it’s beyond me, to be honest—and that’s just counting the things the Sheikah themselves remember.” She shrugs gently, hands spreading out before her in apology. “It sounds like you’re talking about one of many, many ancient structures the Sheikah built ten thousand years ago—and even the Sheikah have forgotten much of their history and workings. An effort was made a hundred years ago to unearth them and study them, but—well… with the fall of the kingdom, not enough progress was made. I doubt there’s a soul alive who can fully explain what you just described to me.”

Eijiro’s shoulders slump, and he sighs. “But… you can’t tell me anything?”

Again, the compassion and remorse overtake her expression. “Why don’t you get to work on finding something for us to eat, and we’ll brainstorm over lunch? I won’t be able to tell you much, but it’ll be easier for us both to figure out on full stomachs after a warm meal, I think.”

It doesn’t occur to him until after he’s sullenly agreed, set off, and faced up against no less than four bokoblins—weak ones, which gave him a lot more trouble than he thinks they should have—that Inko didn’t even really question that he’d said he’d woken up in the strange basin of glowing blue water, or ask him how he’d gotten there at all.

Not that he’d have been able to answer, but it strikes him as just a little odd. Or a lot odd.

He’ll go with a lot.

It’s when he’s scaling a large rock jutting out of the middle of a field near Inko’s house to gather some rushrooms from the cracks in the stone that he hears it—or, well, almost hears it. He kind of misses it, at first, though he tilts his head when there’s just—almost—something. He assumes he’s imagining it, because it’s so barely-there, but as he moves to tuck the rushrooms in his pocket it’s a little stronger, a little more pressing, and it has the indescribable feeling of the voice.

He startles, so excited to hear from him again that he loses his grip on the stone, and it’s all he can do to keep from dropping the rushrooms as he slides and skids his way some fifteen feet down the rock face. His feet hit the earth at the base of the surface with a heavy thump, but he manages not to stumble or keel over.

Eijiro…

The voice is muted and distant somehow, but he hears it this time, head jerking around wildly even though he knows at this point he’s not going to find its source. It’s just instinct, to look for him.

Eijiro, the voice persists, and this time it’s actually distinct, only growing clearer and more solidly present the longer he speaks, Don’t just ignore that Sheikah Slate I left you. There’s a point marked on the map. Go there.

Eijiro doesn’t know the voice can see him, but he thinks he can. The comments he’d gotten earlier make the most sense if the voice was watching somehow. So he nods, tucking the rushrooms he’d grabbed into his pocket and reaching for the Sheikah Slate with the same hand. He winces expectantly when he glances towards his free hand, the one he’d scrabbled against the stone surface for purchase when he’d begun to slip, expecting to discover his fingers scraped raw, but—

—he blinks when his eyes find that his hand’s not really much of a hand, at the moment; the skin replaced by vivid crimson scales, fingers and nails sharpened to something more like talons, making his hand look something more like a claw. Like a dragon claw.

He can do that. He can do that! He hasn’t thought about it once, since waking—hadn’t once bothered to ponder what his sharp, fang-like teeth meant, mostly because it was so normal to him, so straightforward. Of course he’s dragonblooded—it’s not something he’s remembering, but more something he’d known the whole time and just hadn’t thought about.

When he pulls his hand away from the stone, his dragonscales and claws soften and mold back into regular skin exactly the way he’s used to as he reaches a finger to navigate the screen of the Sheikah Slate. A map, this thing has a map somehow… and he finds it, after just a moment—though, uh, map seems like maybe an overstatement.

It’s just a blank blue screen, dark and not at all very informative. The only distinctive features are a few lighter blue lines that seem to section off huge chunks of land and three symbols sort of near to each other in the middle: an odd blue emblem, a flashing yellow circle, and below them a yellow triangular arrow—which he figures out must mark his position on the map when he turns the slate, and the arrow rotates with him.

That… that’s crazy, he thinks; sure, you can mark your current position on a map, but to have that mark move with you? And even keep track of the way you’re facing on the map? He doesn’t know if this is magic or some other means, but he still thinks it’s crazy. And cool as all hell.

Based on his own orientation, he thinks the blue marking must be the odd cavern he’d come from. When he moves his finger over it, words appear on the surface of the map—it says Shrine of Resurrection in text of the same bright blue, and below that, in smaller text, Travel. He stares. What does that mean? What does that mean—resurrection?

It gives him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Why in the hell is he popping out of weird tubs of glowing stuff in a shrine of resurrection with no idea who he is or how he got there? Is he a dead guy? Oh, gods, is he a ghost? What the hell is going on?

Oi, oi. The voice gets his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts as they spiral further into conspiracy theorizing, but this time the voice doesn’t ease any of his anxiety as he tears his gaze from the—the shrine on the map. You’re wasting daylight, asshole. Get moving.

Again, he finds himself pouting. “Has anyone ever told you you’re pretty grumpy?”

The voice doesn’t dignify that with a response, so he sighs, eyes once more drawn to the bright blue text, and with a swallow he tears his eyes away instead towards the flashing yellow circle. Even without process of elimination, that’s obviously the point the voice was talking about.

Clipping the Sheikah Slate back onto his belt, Eijiro reaches down to his feet where he’d left his satchel—it was easier to climb without it—and pulls it over his shoulder, numb and distracted. He moves the rushrooms from his pocket to the bag, and then sets off. Even with his mind muddled and desperate for answers, it doesn’t occur to him to ignore what the voice said. He just—just knows it. If the voice wants him to do something, he has a good reason.

There are quite a few bokoblins between him and the mark on the map—most of them scattered in the field directly around his destination. It’s taxing, fighting them all, but the rhythm of combat settles him somewhat. It’s mindless and familiar, and shifts his thinking to action. There isn’t time to get existential when he’s got to keep track of enemies’ positions, the pattern of their strikes, his own dodges and attempts to get past their guards.

So he’s a lot more grounded by the time he’s slinging a boko bow over his back, one that he’s just pilfered from one of the last few monsters guarding this spot. He pulls out the Sheikah Slate to double check, but…

But he’s here. He’s here, and it’s... just a pile of rocks. The voice had... sent him to a stack of boulders?

Why?

He does see something, though, now that he narrows his eyes at the gap in between the boulders—a hint of stone that looks different. Looks like the same smooth, tan material he’d seen some of in the dark interior of the… the Shrine of Resurrection. Immediately more alert, he jogs closer.

He realizes quickly that there’s more space than he thought under the huge slabs of stone—that the rocks are covering and held up by another structure, the tan stone he’d seen forming pillars of some sort, maybe? There’s a ridge, like a low half-wall, made of the same stuff, and when he gets under the overhang of rock that darkens it all, he sees that the floor of this area is the same black stone from inside the shrine, and in the center of it all—another pedestal.

Clambering over the low ridge ringing the structure, he all but runs to the pedestal, in a hurry to inspect it. Unlike the ones in the shrine, it’s not lit up—not until he gets closer, and it starts giving a dull, slowly-pulsing orange glow. Just like the first pedestal in the shrine, this one has a rectangular indent, just the right shape for the slate. As soon as he closes the last two steps, the uncanny feminine voice from the shrine sounds.

“Place the Sheikah Slate into the pedestal.”

He examines it a moment—both the rectangular depression, and the little clamp that sticks out from the bottom of it. He tries to remember how the first pedestal had offered the slate to him. The eye had been facing towards him, and the handle up, he recalls, so he pulls the slate from his waist and fits it into the clasp the same way.

The clamp smoothly rotates the slate so that the screen is facing him and then lays it into the indent, before the whole thing glows brighter. A blue Sheikah eye lights up on the screen as he leans closer to watch, eyes wide in fascination, and then the inhuman voice chimes, “Sheikah Tower activated. Please watch for falling rocks.”

Just as he starts to wonder what any of that means, he hears an odd whooshing noise above his head, and suddenly—there’s an earth-shaking rumble below him, so intense he struggles to keep his feet under him. Struggles, right up until he doesn’t, because with one more immense shake he’s knocked to the ground hard enough to smack his head against the stone, and then there’s a swooping in his gut as he feels himself being lifted, and fast.

It’s fast enough to shatter all the stone that had formed around and leaned against this structure, sending it all flying as the whole thing jerks into the air, and Eijiro has his eyes squeezed shut through most of it, groaning from the bump that’s surely forming on the back of his head.

By the time he does open his eyes again, he’s shockingly out in the open, surrounded by bright blue sky on all sides, and the structure—oh, the tower, that’s what it had meant when it said Sheikah Tower activated—is still somehow rising. Its ascent has smoothened out and slowed somewhat, but the deceleration sends his stomach swooping in a different way, now. Not for the first time in this past hour, he finds himself thinking, What in the actual, ever-loving fuck is going on?

The tower settles at its full height, after a few moments, and some—he doesn’t even know, antennas?—lift themselves up at the top of the structure, before a line of blue light shoots up the center of the tower and mists off of it for a moment. Dazed and baffled, he slowly and admittedly ungracefully climbs his way to his feet, looking around him in—

Well, in awe.

That may have been crazy, and absurd, and absolutely unpredictable, but—the wind whips his hair around his face and the world opens up around him and if he felt like he could see most of Hyrule from the cliff outside the Shrine of Resurrection, it was nothing compared to this. And—his eyes widen in surprise, as he realizes that there are now more of those towers out there that he can see—that must have all pushed themselves up out of the earth with the one he stands on now.

“Distilling local information.”

Eijiro’s focus is pulled back towards the plinth where the Sheikah Slate still rests, and as he watches, an odd black stone that hangs suspended above it lights up blue with the Sheikah symbol and several lines of glowing Sheikah text slowly sliding down its surface, towards a curved point directly above his slate, where… it seems to turn into a gathering of blue liquid? Maybe the same stuff from the shrine?

The same musical, repeated beeping tone from when his slate ‘authenticated’ sounds, and as he watches, a large droplet forms slowly before it finally drips off, splattering onto the screen of his slate with a loud plink!

Most of it seems to somehow absorb into the smooth surface of the screen, but some mists off in odd, glowing blue tendrils that Eijiro flinches away from, half afraid they were about to splash into his eyes. The slate chimes and lights up blue for a moment, and as he leans closer again, the map appears—and fills in, all of a sudden! Where before there was a single dark, lined-in area with no features, now the center of the map is colored in shades of brown and blue, and he can make out trees and structures and lines of elevation and bodies of water.

It’s an actual map, now, one that makes sense to read and actually maps his surroundings—though he realizes all of the other outlined chunks of the map still remain dark. Still, it’s something, and he eyes it curiously.

“Regional map extracted,” the odd, high-pitched voice says, and then the center of the pedestal is familiarly rotating and lifting, and the Sheikah Slate is once again being lifted out of the depression it had rested in and presented to him. Still amazed, he plucks it out of its clasp and moves once again to hook it to his belt, before turning away.

He doesn’t get far—not even far enough to start wondering how in the hell he’s going to get down from here—when the faint, barely discernible tones of the voice are back, and this time the unknown man’s voice is accompanied by an odd, mystical humming in the distance.

Remember… the voice says, muffled, but this time when Eijiro whips his head around, towards the sound of the rumbling hum, he does see a sign of the voice—that same explosion of golden light from before. Only this time, it has a source: the room at the heart of the castle in the distance—of Hyrule Castle.

You have to try to remember.

As he stares, fully turning to face towards the source of the light and the voice, Eijiro’s enraptured and relieved, to finally know where it’s coming from; where he has to go to find him. He can’t help but run to the edge of the platform, though the distance it closes isn’t much.

You’ve been asleep, Eijiro. For—fuck, for a hundred years now.

He freezes in his tracks at that, bug-eyed and caught completely off-guard. He doesn’t even have time to process, before there’s another heavy rumbling at his feet, forcing him to scramble for solid footing as the earth shakes.

The monster, here— the voice presses on, not deterred by the trembling of the entire world around him, —when this shithead’s back at full strength, it’s going to destroy everything. Everything, Eijiro.

Eijiro watches in horror as, while the voice speaks, a sickly-looking black mist begins rising and swirling around Hyrule Castle. Though it’s obviously some kind of odd smoke, or gas, it just—just looks somehow oily and slimy. It’s disgusting to behold as some shape seems to form out of it—a horrifying murky face that trails more of the smoke behind itself as it begins to circle the castle. An enraged roar so loud it carries all the way across Hyrule Fields to where Eijiro stands emits from it, and the voice raises its volume in irritation to be heard over it.

So I’m waiting. You don’t have a lot of time to help me stop this. So—so hurry the fuck up.

Both the light and the grimy mist seem to flair and swell and then—Eijiro gasps, as all at once both seem to be swallowed up into the heart of the castle again. It… it looks like one smothered the other, but he can’t tell which. All he knows is he can’t leave the voice alone with—with whatever the hell that creature was. He can’t.

The voice didn’t—wouldn’t say as much earlier, but he needs Eijiro. And Eijiro’s not going to let him down.

The climb down from the tower is an ordeal.

It’s the first time he’s really, very certain that something is wrong. He remembers the short climb, only ten feet or so, to get out of the Shrine of Resurrection, and how it had left him a little winded. Somehow he knows that it should have been easier—that he’s able, or should be able, to climb heights more effortlessly.

He shouldn’t, at least, have to deal with his arms aching and shaking, fingers stiff and sore, before he’s even a quarter of the way down the tower. After that, he has to start alternating between trying to climb down the oddly-latticed bars of tan stone, and just letting go to drop down to the rest platforms littered every twenty or so feet down the sides. It’s an attempt to spare his knees from the impact and his muscles from the strain in equal measure, and it helps, somewhat.

The voice—he’d said Eijiro had slept for… for one hundred years. Had slept, for that long. Is that why he feels so weak?

He’s unsettled and unsteady in more ways than one by the time that his feet touch down on solid ground, and he startles slightly when he hears Inko’s voice calling for him. Sagging a little against the side of the tower, he blinks and looks up at her as she approaches. She’s moving faster than he would have expected, honestly.

“Well, now,” she says, once she’s close enough that her voice carries without shouting. “This is certainly something, isn’t it?” She cranes her head back with apparent awe, before once again looking to him shrewdly. “If you were up there, you must have seen that this wasn’t the only one of these odd towers to erupt. They’re just about everywhere you look, it seems. Like something very old deep below the earth has woken up...”

There’s wonder in her tone, and then her eyes flick down to the slate at his hip, then back towards the shrine he’d emerged from, before she asks, “Did you have something to do with this?”

“Um...” Gods, he hopes she doesn’t expect him to explain it, because he doesn’t understand any of what just happened. Certainly not enough to put it into words. At a loss, all he really manages in answer is a nod. She lets out a hum, thoughtful and considering.

“If you don’t mind me prying,” she starts, and Eijiro winces, unsure how to express any part at all of that process, or gods-forbid how it worked, but instead she asks, “Did anything strange happen while you were on top of the tower?”

Oh, boy. Where to begin. He pushes off from the tower, having caught his breath, and scratches self-consciously at the back of his head. How do you tell the sweet old lady, who invited you into her home for lunch, that you’re hearing things?

“Uh, I kinda… I heard a voice?”

Instead of looking at him dubiously, or like he was some kind of weirdo, her eyes light up in interest. “Is that so! A voice, hm… Did you recognize this voice?”

Eijiro falters again, at that. Does he recognize the voice? He doesn’t… sound familiar, or at least, Eijiro’s not sure if he sounds familiar, but… he trusts the voice completely, and finds himself calming whenever he hears him. He can even read the voice, all of the tics and underlying tones—would he be able to do that, if he doesn’t know the voice?

But as hard as he tries to place the voice in his memories, it all comes up as blank as most other things. He can’t remember.

“No, I, ah… I don’t think so?” he answers, wishing he could be sure of the response. He didn’t recognize the voice, but… should he have?

For a brief second he thinks he sees a flash of disappointment cross Inko’s face, but it’s gone so fast he’s not sure he didn’t make it up, replaced with a thoughtful look. “Hm, that’s too bad.”

Before he can form a response, she turns away, slightly, gazing off towards the direction of Hyrule Castle in the distance, and seemingly changing the subject. Though—admittedly, it is still pretty relevant, considering what the voice told him up there.

“If you were that high up,” she starts, nose just slightly crinkling in distaste as she regards the castle, “You must have noticed all that awful mess surrounding the castle. That, young man, is what we all know as the Calamity, All For One.”

He turns to look at her, before facing the castle, eyes wide. The name is familiar; there had been legends—a horrible entity that sought only complete control and destruction of Hyrule. It was only a legend, but… it was said that it was supposed to be coming back. He inhales sharply, realization overtaking him.

One hundred years, the voice had told him. During which, the Calamity had come back, it seemed.

“One hundred years ago, that horrible thing brought the entire kingdom of Hyrule to ruin,” she continues, oblivious to his own dawning horror and understanding. “It appeared right out of the blue, when no one could have expected, and it tore through everything in its way. Many… many, innocent lives were lost, back then. Too many.”

Her voice is soft, and impossibly sad. She doesn’t look quite close to a hundred, herself—not old enough to have lived through it, but she talks as though it were a personal ache. Sheikah could be old enough to have seen it, but she’d said she’d only spent time among the Sheikah, not that she was one.

He looks over to see tears pouring freely down her face, and oh, no—he’s always been an empathetic crier, and he feels his own eyes start stinging in response as he quickly pulls his gaze away to stare at the ruins of the castle again.

“Sorry, forgive me,” she mumbles as he sees her wipe at her eyes in his periphery, and he can only shake his head at the notion that she has anything to apologize for, before she presses on again, “For a century now, the heart of Hyrule itself, the castle, has somehow been able to contain that evil. But only barely. You can see it, how it festers in there, building up strength to break free and loose itself on the land once more. From the looks of it, that won’t be long at all.”

She sounds scared—terrified, at the prospect, and he doesn’t blame her one bit. It’s… what she’s describing, what the voice described, it can’t happen.

Sniffling, Inko wipes again at her eyes, before turning to him. She looks… so, so sad, but for him, somehow. “If you’ll forgive me prying again… be honest with me, Eijiro. You plan to go to the castle, don’t you?”

He blinks, surprised that she somehow read him. It’s that motherly thing she has going on, it has to be; moms know everything. He doesn’t get it. So he takes a shaky breath, eyes still watering profusely in response to hers, to steady himself for the obvious answer.

“I do.”

He has to. The voice is there. And someone—someone has to stop that monster, before it can cause any more catastrophes.

She huffs out a somber little laugh. “I knew that would be your answer.” She turns forward again, this time not looking to the castle, but to the edge of the plateau, where it drops off into an abrupt cliff. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, dear, but this plateau is very isolated. We’re surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs and drop-offs, and the walls that line the plateau are ancient and crumbling. They’d break apart beneath your feet if you tried to climb down them, and you’d tumble to certain death. The path to come in and out got caved in decades ago, and filled up with rainwater. I’m afraid there’s no safe way down from the plateau. There hasn’t been for a very long time.”

What? But—but—that can’t be true! The voice needs him, and she—she’d even seemed to accept that Eijiro was going. If there’s no way, then…

“So, we’ll just have to figure out a new way down, I suppose,” she continues, with a mournful-sounding sigh, and he looks back to her with desperate hope. “Which sounds like another matter to think on over lunch.”

It sounds definite, and he feels gratitude fill him as he grants her a watery smile. Boy, he’s had a full and emotionally taxing day, and he hasn’t even been awake for a full hour and a half. She reaches out to him then, to pat him reassuringly on the arm.

“In the meantime, though, there’s something I think I ought to show you. Come here.”

With that, she turns away, starting to walk up an incline to their left, to give them a better view in the direction she indicates. He follows curiously, and they both seem to take the time to compose themselves. When they do clear the top of it, she points with the hand that holds her walking stick off towards another structure—a bizarrely-shaped, large lump of a thing that’s clearly made from the same smooth, black and tan stones that make up the rest of Sheikah buildings. And most of it is glowing, orange.

“You see that funny structure there?” she asks, turning to make sure his gaze is focused in the right direction. “It wasn’t glowing before. It didn’t light up until the exact same moment you sent that tower shooting up into the sky. There’s an awful lot of those shrines around Hyrule, but none of them have glowed for as long as I lived—they’ve been dead as a doornail, and no one could get into them. Certainly not for lack of trying. I think whatever you did with that tower woke them up, and it might just be possible to get inside now.”

She turns to look at him, expression encouraging. “I was just thinking, if that voice you talked about spoke to you because you found that tower, maybe it would want you to enter these shrines, as well, since they seem to be connected.”

Eijiro almost jumps for joy—he’d been thinking exactly the same thing! Every time the voice spoke to him, it was either because he’d just used some Sheikah technology, or because he was telling Eijiro to use some Sheikah technology. Maybe—maybe whatever was in these shrines would help him figure out a way off of this plateau? Or at least give him more information on the shrine he’d come from.

“Inko, I think you’re right!” he gushes, excited, and he’s already taking his first, eager step in that direction. “He probably would, I have to—”

He’s stopped by a hand on his arm as she scolds him, tone amused, “Ah, ah, ah! You’re not charging off to that shrine right this second, young man. You’re starving, and I know you haven’t had anything but that baked apple and whatever you could find to snack on around here. You’ll go to that shrine later, after we’ve gotten a hot meal in your belly.”

“But...” It’s so close, and he’s so glad to have some real idea of a next step! But she tugs gently on his arm, pulling him in the direction of her home, and once again Eijiro finds himself cursed by the burden of being unable to say no to a kind old woman.

He’s all but vibrating with eagerness to get to that shrine, to figure out what’s inside, but… but it’s like she said. Later.

Besides… now that she’s mentioned it—(his stomach releases a roaringly loud grumble to assert its own take on the matter)—gods, he is starving.

#kiribaku #bakushima #krbk #bkshm #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijiro #bakugo katsuki #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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alexboehm55144 · 5 years ago

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Alex Final Wars 2: Dark Alex, Chapter 26 - Respite

Haida and Retsuko were on shore leave, holding paws and taking a stroll down one of the many coastal paths in Zootopia. The reminders of the war were still on their minds, the thoughts of a spy network in the city, and the fact that the wreckage of Chinese and American ships sat just off the coast.

But these thoughts were secondary, the pair were just having fun together, enjoying some ice cream they had bought from a shop.

Retsuko had gotten ice cream with liquor in it, saying she needed it to relieve some stress and unwind.

Haida had gotten coffee-flavored ice cream, and his red panda girlfriend chuckled when the hyena ordered it, citing that his favorite drink was canned coffee.

“What would you like to do?” Retsuko asked, “when this is all over?”

“Well, I think I’ll keep my current job. I assume we are still needed.”

“I agree. It’s the best job I’ve ever had. Of course in my last job, I met you.”

Haida blushes a bit & scratched the back of his head, which was something he did when embarrassed.

The pair found a bench to sit on and stared out at the harbor. Sea birds flew overhead and hunted fish in the water. Engineering crews worked on the wreckage of ships and aircraft in the bay, planning to tow them out to sea to become artificial reefs.

“What else?” Retsuko asked, “I know it might be hard to think about your whole life.”

The hyena was quiet for a moment, prompting Retsuko to speak.

“Don’t feel like you have to answer.”

The hyena’s mind raced. He didn’t know much about what he wanted to do in the far future of his life.

“Well... I don't know everything I'm going to do in my life....”

The hyena struggled with his words, but seeing the beautiful red panda in front of him, he was able to find what he wanted to say.

“....but I do know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A slight gasp escaped Retsuko's lips, as Haida took Retsuko's paw in his own. It felt cold and slightly wet, as she had been holding the ice cream in that hand. But the hyena didn't care, he enjoyed the red panda's touch.

Retsuko looked at Haida's hand and thought to herself. She loved him, and every time the pair was together she was enjoying herself. If the hyena wanted to spend their lives together, then that meant every day of her life would be enjoyable and happy.

“I’d also like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The red panda stood up on the bench to get closer to the hyena and gently put a kiss on his lips.

Haida blushed and was stunned for a moment. However, he had gotten more comfortable around Retsuko, & was able to regain his composure quickly.

“Come on, let’s go find a karaoke bar around here.”

The red panda smiled, her hyena knew what she liked.

000

ZIA HQ had been targeted by the Chinese during the first invasion, but since then it had been repaired. Bullet holes in concrete had been filled, and shattered glass panes had been replaced. Some ZIA personnel had gotten killed during both assaults on the city, but the agency had since been supplemented with recruits.

Jack and Skye were currently in their shared office, a rabbit & foxed size room with a window that faced out onto a stone pathway outside the building. 2 desks with computers were set up, along with some file cabinets and a few other random bits of furniture. On the wall sat a large conspiracy board with pictures, maps, and sticky notes. It did include the Dark Heroes, and information on the Chinese.

Skye was just returning from a lion run fast food restaurant named burger pride, while Jack had stayed in the office and worked on some things

“How was your training session earlier?” Skye asked, setting a brown paper bag & a drink down on her mate’s desk.

“It was good, although it would have been more fun if you were there.” Jack flirted.

“Ha! Although your accuracy would suffer since you’d just be staring at me all the time. I know you do that.”

“Is it that obvious?!”

Skye laughed, and opened the bag on her desk, taking out a burger covered in aluminum foil, and unwrapping it to reveal the delicious meal. Jack did the same, quickly biting into the burger.

“Is this plant-based?” The rabbit asked, seeing that the wrapping foil had a small green sticker with a plant on it.

Skye nodded.

“The menu said it was a plant-based substitute, perfect for prey creatures.” The fox paused to take another bite of her burger and chew. “Mine is real meat.”

She pointed to a small red sticker that showed an icon of a steak. The burger was made from unevolved cows and provided all the proteins that a carnivore needed in their diet.

Jack took a sip of the Pawpsi cola in his cup, & pondered what the real meat burger tasted like. He stood up from his desk and went over to Skye.

“Let me take a bite of yours.”

“What?”

“I want to see what yours tastes like.”

“Go away,” Skye said playfully, holding her burger up & out of reach.

But Jack just hopped up and swiped the food out of her paw before taking a large bite.

“Mmm... can’t taste the difference. The plant substitute is a very close approximation.”

“Well if you get to taste mine, then I get to taste yours.”

She plucked Jack’s burger from his paw and bit into it.

“Yeah your right, I can’t even tell it’s plant-based.”

“I still want it back.”

The pair playfully tried to reclaim their food from each other, eventually succeeding and laughing at their immaturity.

“I love you,” Skye said with a full mouth.

Her bunny responded, his mouth also full.

“I love you too.”

000

“We’re getting some weird looks,” Eris said, her and Laval walking down a street, through the meadowlands area of Zootopia.

“Toothdee told me this area was mostly inhabited by prey animals. I guess that could explain the weird looks.”

“Or they’ve just never seen an evolved eagle before,” Eris said.

“I don’t know, I’m getting some stares too.”

The pair had wanted to get out and explore more of Zootopia, and toothdee had recommended the meadowlands to them as somewhere to visit. Their current location was comprised of small stone buildings that were overgrown with plants. Not a result of neglect, but instead just attempts to incorporate civilization with nature. Prey animals such as goats walked the streets. While most were too busy to care about Laval and Eris, others found it appropriate to give them weird glances. Fortunately, the 2 would not have to be the subject of awkward looks for much longer, as they left the street and turned onto a trail through a grove of trees. The ground turned from pavement to dirt, and the leaves stretched overhead.

“You notice how lions here have a different style of mane than those in Chima?” Eris said.

“I have, I wonder if it’s a cultural thing or something. Just a different style of mane wearing.”

“Don’t forget Kion wears his in a mohawk.”

“Oh yeah, true. The lions here remind me of my dad. Maybe because his mane is kinda similar to theirs, in that it has more hair.”

Laval paused and then spoke again.

“I wonder what my dad is doing in Chima right now. I miss him.”

Seeing that Laval was feeling a bit sad, Eris reached down and gripped Laval’s hand with her own, making the lion brush a bit and causing a slight smile to cross his face.

“He’s proud of you.” The eagle said. “Think of all you’ve done for Chima and the world.”

There was another pause as Laval thought for a moment, and the smile stayed on his face.

“Thank you.”

The pair reached a large hill, next to a stone cliff, with a view looking out on rolling fields of grass and rivers that stretched as far as the eye could see. The sky was darkened by clouds from an approaching storm, and the wind blew through the grass, causing patterns that looked like waves.

Laval took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh and damp air. Eris stretched her wings, took a running start, and took into the sky. She soared high above the grass and rivers, gazing at the magnificence of nature. The eagle dove down and flew low above the river, looking at her reflection on the water. She reached her hand into the river and created a trail of water as she continued to fly along.

“I wish I had wings,” Laval said to himself, watching Eris dance across the sky.

The eagle soon returned after a few moments, landing next to her lion.

“Do you have to show off, wing girl?” Laval asked playfully.

The pair sat together, looking out at the rolling grass hills, the wavy rivers, and the turbulent sky. It wasn’t sunny or particularly colorful but was pretty in its own way.

“Ok, what’s a prettier view?” Eris asked “this or the view from Spiral mountain.”

“Hmmm... Spiral mountain,” Laval answered. “Of course, nothing is as pretty as you.”

The eagle blushed and covered her face with a wing.

“Do you miss home?” The lion asked, still thinking about his father.

“Yes, I do. But we’ve left our home behind before, to do some good somewhere else.”

“True, plus we have some of the best of friends with us, and plenty of battles to test our skills.”

“See, things aren’t so bad.”

There was a loud clap of thunder, causing both Laval and Eris to look up to the dark skies above.

Raindrops began to pelt down, making the pair groan as the raindrops started to hit. Eris brought her wings up as shields to cover the pair, protecting them from being drenched.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eris said, and the two retreated to the safety of a dry area.

000

“Sure, I got 4 tickets to the Gazelle concert tonight,” Nick said. “What’s it to you?”

He and JayJay were currently alone in a hallway on the typhoon, & Nick had 4 tickets sticking out of his back pocket.

“I want 2 of them,” JayJay said

“Why?” “I want to have a good time with Alex. That’s all you need to know.”

“I don’t know if a concert is his thing, he’s a real introvert.”

The wolf groaned and shook her head.

“Just, name your price for 2 tickets.”

“Well, do you have anything you think I could use?”

A smirk crossed JayJay’s face. She excused herself and told Nick to wait, before leaving him in the hallway. A few minutes later she returned with 2 quivers, one in each hand, each filled with arrows. The wolf proudly held them up, a smile on her muzzle.

“I already have one of those,” Nick said

JayJay rolled her eyes and tilted the quivers so Nick could see the projectiles inside. He took an arrow out of one of them & examined it. At the head, the arrow didn’t widen before tapering to a point. The diameter of the shaft tapered to a point that looked like the head of a bullet.

“Bullet point arrows,” Nick said. “Impressive.”

JayJay nodded towards the other quiver, and the fox put the bullet point arrow back in its quiver & turned to the second one. Removing an arrow from this quiver, he saw that it had a very wide head that was jagged, and designed to inflict as much damage as possible. The arrow itself was also finely crafted, and extremely sharp.

“Death arrows,” Nick said, examining the object. “Expensive, but very finely made.”

“You can have one quiver.” JayJay said, “in return for 2 of those gazelle tickets.”

The fox rubbed his chin & thought for a moment.

“Death arrows”

Nick reached into his back pocket and produced 2 of the tickets. He passed them to JayJay, took the quiver of death arrows, and slung it over his shoulder.

“Front row, Judy and I will be there as well.”

The wolf looked at the tickets to make sure they were genuine, before thanking her ally & walking away. She was giddy with joy and practically jumped in the air as she went down the hallway.

“A pleasure doing business with you.” The fox said, looking at the quiver of death arrows.

JayJay immediately searched for her mate and discovered him in Toothdee’s cabin, the two were playing some game on their computers.

The wolf knocked on the wall, alerting the 2 to her presence.

“Alex, could I see you for a moment.”

The Heroes captain joined the wolf outside in the hall, noting that JayJay had a large smile on her face & was radiating excitement.

“What is it?”

“I have 2 tickets for the gazelle concert tonight, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

“I don’t know, large crowds aren’t my thing.”

“Please, I’d like to do something special with you, and I’ve told you how much I love dancing.” The Heroes leader thought for a moment, looking at JayJay’s face. She was smiling widely and her eyes were bright. The captain sighed and gave in, he couldn’t resist that adorable look of excitement.

“Ok, fine. If it would make you happy.”

“Yes!” JayJay said, pumping her fist in the air, before giving the human the ticket. “Ok, it’s in a couple of hours, come get me an hour before the show.”

“Will do,” Alex said, looking over the ticket, and returning to Toothdee.

000

A few hours later, it was not Alex who went and got JayJay, but rather JayJay who went and got Alex. She was very excited, and couldn’t wait any longer.

The pair caught a train to the stadium where Gazelle was singing and made small talk as they navigated through the crowd of mammals headed into the building. Out of either affection or not wanting to get separated, the Heroes captain took his mate’s paw in his hand. The female wolf smiled and leaned against the human’s shoulder. As the pair made their way into the stadium, they heard a familiar sound from behind them.

“Well, look who it is.”

Alex and JayJay turned to see Nick and Judy, walking up in the line behind them. The 2 had arms around each other, and both were dressed in casual, light fitting clothes. Even Nick, who usually only wore Hawaiian shirts.

“Alex? Didn’t think you’d be here,” Judy said.

“Well, someone wanted to do something special and fun with me.”

JayJay smiled happily at the comment.

“Aww, is it ok if we join you?”

“By all means.”

The 2 pairs merged into 1 group, but both couples still held onto each other as they continued to walk.

“Thank you for doing this.” Captain Boehm said, turning to the wolf on his shoulder.

“It’s my pleasure,” JayJay responded.

“Say, where did you get the tickets?”

JayJay pointed to Nick, who smiled slyly and played it cool.

“Ah, there we go. That explains everything.”

The arena was circular, with a circular platform at the center that the performer stood on. The platform was surrounded by water, both as a decorative measure, and a security measure. On the walls of the arena were dozens of small open windows, either so people inside could see out, or just part of an interesting design.

The group of four mammals found their spaces, which were in a pit, slightly below the platform where the performer stood. There were many other mammals all around them, but the spots were premium seating, or rather, standing.

After a few minutes, the arena darkened, and everyone grew silent. Water fountains activated, and lights turned on, as the figure of a female Gazelle in a glittering red dress came on stage, lifted onto the central platform by a small elevator in the stage.

“Hello, Zootopia!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, as the pop star began her first song.

Soon the melody picked up, and the 4 young heroes started to happily dance along. Dancing was much like combat, a beautiful display of movement and actions, perfectly in sync.

Just like when they were walking into the building, Judy and Nick danced together, while JayJay and Alex did the same.

The blue wolf was totally in her element, spinning and moving rapidly. The color and speed impressing her 3 companions.

Judy also pushed Nick along, silently prompting him to dance. The fox obliged and smiled slyly whenever he was encouraged to dance.

The 2 boys were not really as into the dancing at the girls, but they were still having fun, which was the most important thing.

All of a sudden, the lovely sound of the music was overpowered by a much louder noise, one that was like gas and sound moving extremely fast. Even Gazelle stopped singing and looked up to the top of the stadium, to see a large ball of fire engulfing part of the arena.

000000000

Sorry it took a while to get this chapter out. Blame my college work. Though I hope everyone still enjoys reading this!

11 notes · View notes

fromsolowithlove · 6 years ago

Text

Like a Sucker Punch - Complete

WARNING: REAL PERSON FANFICTION w/ Adam Driver & Daisy Ridley (Daiver)

WARNING TAGS: NSFW, INFIDELITY, CONSENSUAL INFIDELITY, EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

Summary: Daisy gets in her head and tries to ignore unresolved feelings for Adam throughout the filming of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and the events that surround it. Each chapter inspired by a song from the lovely Sigrid.

Words: 11.2K

Rating: Very much E. NSFW. Unless you have a very understanding boss. Or are self-employed.

Ultimately decided to post the complete fic here on Tumblr as well, cause why the hell not? This little fic baby got its start here first anyways before moving onto AO3.

Again, this isn’t for you if you can’t stand the shipping of Daiver. In no way does this reflect my deep dark conspiracy theories. It’s just my work of FICTION. A fun outlet. An angsty rom-com, if you will, starring two people with fantastic natural chemistry.

Now that I’ve lost all my followers 😈, READ THE ENTIRE FIC BELOW👇🏽

Chapter 1 - Strangers

“How about a twenty, folks?” JJ called for a break after deciding something wasn’t quite right about the scene they were filming. Rey and Kylo’s kiss had to carry the weight of three movies worth of waiting. Everyone involved knew its scale. It couldn’t be half-assed.

“Let’s make it a tight twenty,” Adam clarified.

Daisy sat up first, letting her chest fall over her legs. She inhaled a deep breath as she felt the fatigue of the past week settle into her bones.

Adam reached for her hand and pulled her up to a standing position.

“I wish JJ would give us a little more in terms of what he wants,” he muttered.

Daisy pulled her mouth into a tight smile and replied, “Well you know what he said. He wants us to decide how the moment should go. Says we know best about how our characters would have felt finally getting to this point.”

“And yet he’s obviously not happy with whatever we’re giving him.” Adam’s voice rose, but he relaxed his shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Sorry Dais, you know I’m not frustrated with you.” He offered her a small smile in repentance, his mouth barely angling up, but eyes filled with warmth.

Daisy playfully slapped his chest with her open hand. “Uh-huh. SURE.” She turned to walk away, smiling to herself as she heard him let out a low chuckle.

She walked off to the side, picked up her water bottle and raised it to her lips. She let it absently fill her up as she stared at Adam across the way. She couldn’t believe the warmth that was developing in her stomach again. Her cheeks followed closely behind as the familiar flush returned. She wanted to slap herself.

Leading up to this point, Daisy had thought herself finally over him. Had she and Adam shared intimate moments during their prior years filming together? Of course. Skellig Michael was an especially treasured moment. After all, there had been such a small group of cast and crew present. It had made it easy to pretend this wasn’t some crazy heavy-budget movie that was resting on her shoulders. “Don’t go through the crew like wildfire!” Carrie had warned. And she hadn’t. Adam wasn’t the crew. He was her co-star. And did she know in her logical mind about the infamous co-star syndrome? Of course, she did. She quickly reminded herself of a time back at Tring Park. She had started feeling a deep fondness and attraction to her costar back in Romeo and Juliet. But just as her lines and blocking points had faded from memory with time, so had her attraction.

This thing with Adam, however, had not. And it angered her. Confused her. Made her unsure of whether she could trust herself. Made her question if she had it in her to continue a career as an actress. Would she fall for every costar she ever had? Jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? No one would want to hire a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. A little voice deep inside had always told her that she was a fraud. That she didn't deserve to be in the presence of the great actors that she called friends and coworkers.

“You know… I’ve got this friend who’s working on casting ‘Into the Woods’. I could throw your name her way. I see you as the perfect Milky White.”

Suddenly, Daisy was snapped back to reality by a teasing voice to her right. She raised her eyebrows and side-eyed the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

“What?”

“You know. Because you just finished that water bottle in one swig and cows really love water,” Adam began to explain.

“I thought that was camels?”

“Nope. Cows.” He paused for a brief moment before adding in, “Yeah, definitely cows.”

“You’re an odd one, bestie,” she teased.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if I had a choice. Trust me, I’ve been trying to put up my distance, she thought.

Before she had a chance to respond with another snarky response, JJ called an end to their break.

Another deep breath.

“Shall we resume the most frustrating scene ever, then?” she asked Adam.

He shuffled his feet and gazed out to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Very true. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Ehhh, it’s all me. You’re perfect as always, Adam.” She blushed and ran off, chiding herself for acting like a stupid school girl.

Despite her embarrassment, the break must have helped. Only a few takes later, Daisy found herself in the most comfortable staring contest with Adam. It was a moment that she wished she could have frozen forever.

Except that she shouldn’t have been thinking of Adam. She should have been thinking of Ben.

At the realization that she was letting her personal feelings bleed into her acting, she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “DAMN IT," she shouted. "I’m so sorry everyone! This next one is it, I swear.”

Adam reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a small smile and she quietly cursed her heart. Its increasing pace threatened to give her secret away. “It’s okay," he said. "I feel it too. We’re almost there.”

Both of them were right, and JJ declared the last take as “THE ONE”. The room erupted with whooping and hollering. Everyone began circulating with hugs, thank-yous, and high fives. Daisy second-guessed going over to Adam, but knew it would be even more telling to avoid him.

When she reached him, she did her best to give a small hug. Adam, however, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter.

“Well, it’s been great,” she started. “Thank you so much. It’s truly been an honor to work with you, Adam.” Her eyes started to well, knowing things between them would never be the same again. Hell, they hadn’t been this whole time.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Adam’s words were barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“You know. For everything. For making things weird between us. I, I never should have -"

“Never should have what?” she challenged. Should have let me fall in love with you? Treated me like I was yours? Let me believe we could ever be more than this great act of pretend? Those last thoughts rattled at the gate of her mouth, but remained hers to keep.

He glanced down, unable to handle her gaze that begged him for words he couldn’t say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about Adam. It’s been nothing but the best professional experience.”

He winced, and for a moment, Daisy almost felt guilty. But the anger and pain returned swiftly. She felt all too happy to have made him feel what she imagined to be only a small fraction of her own torment.

“To our amazing leads!” someone toasted a few feet over. “I’ve worked on a lot of movies, and it’s rare we get two incredible actors like you both. You made me believe I was watching a true relationship unfold, not just two really well-acted characters. To Daisy and Adam! To making us believe in the unreal.”

Everyone cheered in agreement around them and Daisy felt her heart rise up to her throat.

Exactly Dais. The unreal.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle and Daisy could no longer stand to be around anyone. She gave them all a quick glance, muttered thanks and ran off. Once she returned to her dressing room, she turned her speakers back on. She started laughing through runny tears at the irony of Sigrid’s lyrics that filled the space.

When the curtain drops

Our touch is just a touch

Not like in the movies

Our story’s after the end

Like strangers

Perfect pretenders

We’re falling head over heels

For something that ain’t real

It could never be us, eh

Just you and I

Chapter 2 - Mine Right Now

Two Years Earlier

“Amazing work, both of you! Now go do something fun. Relaxing. Happy. Today’s scene was so emotionally taxing. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for any dark spiraling that follows today.”

“Oh, it's really alright. I take full responsibility for my own dark spiraling, Rian,” Adam joked.

“Well true as that may be, I am serious. You've both earned a night of not thinking about work. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Rian gave them both a quick hug before leaving them to finish gathering their things.

Daisy cleared her throat before she could back out. “So, what do you say, Driver? How about a little drinky poo?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her co-star suggestively before bursting into laughter.

“Sure. As long as you promise not to judge me for ordering a cocktail.”

Praying that her face wasn’t showing her utter shock, she continued to push her luck. “You’re kidding! You never go out! With the crew. With me. Mysterious Adam Driver slums it with Daisy Ridley? What would the missus think?!”

“Dais…” She watched as he ran his hands through his hair, certain that she had crossed a line.

“Sorry. So sorry. Uncalled for.”

“I just don't like to talk about Joa-, my wife a lot.”

Of course, he didn't. Not with coworkers at least. She was kidding herself to think they were anything more than that. Trying to salvage the situation, she asked, “Too late to throw in my white flag?”

He stared at her longer than he ever had outside of filming. “Not at all. But let's head out before it gets too late. I've got an early training session tomorrow.”

Relieved that she hadn't completely blown it, she felt her heartbeat pick back up. This was really about to happen. She was going to be alone with Adam and, by orders from the boss man himself - prohibited from talking about work. “Right, of course. I'll meet you outside in five?”

He gave her a small nod before turning to leave her to her things.

Her bag was already packed, but she used the next five minutes to compose herself. Tonight would be uncharted territory. Her relationship with Adam had grown into a fond friendship over the last two years. And so had her attraction to him. She rationalized it to herself as the intimacy of a truly trusting professional relationship. After all, they had to trust each other with abandon to pull off the demands of stunts and emotional scene work. Still, somewhere deep down she knew that for her, this was more than just trusting a coworker or friend. On the other hand, she could happily say that she wasn't the only one guilty of flirting now and again.

When she met him outside, he led her to his car. She was tired beyond her wits and grateful to have him drive.

“Where to?” He asked. “The Bridge Bar?”

“No. That's where the crew always goes.”

“Don't wanna be seen with the big bad villain, huh?”

“Yes. I mean, no!” Words escaped her as she tried to explain herself. “All I mean is that...I agree with Rian. Today was a lot. And I'd rather not have to socialize with anyone at the moment.”

“Oh. I can drive you back to the hotel, then. I just thought...since you had asked...that -”

“I'm trying to say I just want to be alone with you!” she blurted.

“Oh.” Her frustration built at Adam's sudden lack of articulation and her blatant confession.

“God. That sounded creepy as hell. Please, can we forget I ever opened my mouth? Just take me to get a drink somewhere, Adam. Anywhere but the Bridge Bar. Please.”

His eyes met hers for only a moment before he drove off with a quick nod.

The drive couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Yet somehow, it was both the longest and shortest stretch of time. Adam, apparently still shell shocked by his pushy costar, hadn't said anything to her. Well, except to point out a few key places of local history. Fear brewed in her stomach as she resigned herself to the fact that he would probably call his agent after this. He would make his agent promise that he'd never have to work with someone as unprofessional as her again.

The silence was good for one thing, though. She figured her career and their relationship, working or otherwise, were both soon to be over. So she used the time to check him out free of shame. She focused first on his hands. The way his fingers tapped like a pianist against the steering wheel at every stop. It made her wonder how they would feel tapping against her skin. His legs were still too large for the space, despite his seat being pulled back to the furthest setting. In fact, if she were to straddle him right now, she'd likely slide right down his thighs. It'd bring her right where she wanted to be, pressed up against his hardness. She pictured the intimacy of that position, how his face would be easily within her reach. How she could run her hands into his hair and bite down into his full lips. She'd be able to watch him lift an eyebrow at her, just like he was doing now.

Oh shit, like he was doing now. He had definitely caught her fantasizing about him.

He looked thoroughly amused. “Everything alright?”

“Course.” She refused to accept defeat and wrinkled her nose in defense. “Now stop staring at me like... THAT and let's go!”

An hour later, she was on her third pint and Adam was still nursing his first cocktail. She looked from his face to his glass and back.

“You make me feel like an alchy!”

He let a low chuckle. “I told you, I've got training early tomorrow. If I go any heavier than this, I'm going to regret it. Just trying to be responsible.”

“How about this right now? Coming out with me. Is it part of your plan to be responsible?” Oh...so aggressively-honest, drunk Daisy was here to play.

A small shake of his head. “ Honestly? Still haven't decided.”

“Is that why you never hang out with me?”

“No. You've just never invited me before.”

“That's not true!”

“In groups, yes... But you know me. I don't do…people. Large groups, anyways,” Adam shrugged.

“Does that mean if I had asked you and it was only us, you would've said yes?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I'm here tonight, aren't I?”

She poked him in the shoulder and elicited a small OWW. “I'm honestly quite mad now. That's critical intel you've been keeping from me. We could've been besties by now!” she whined.

“Besties, huh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Ok. Then we’re besties. Anything you want.”

Before she could catch it, the small suggestion escaped in a rasp she didn’t know she had. “Anything?”

He gulped and met her eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her giving in to years of repressed wants. She slowly got up from the table, still holding his gaze. She turned and started toward the back of the bar. The jury was still out on whether it was to leave the burn of his stare or to initiate something incredibly risky.

There wasn’t enough time to consider her motives when she felt her body go on high alert. The darkness of the hallway intensified all her other senses. She knew it was him even before his hand slid across her back to grip her waist. It was the way he walked so gently to avoid disturbing a space. The way he took slow calculated steps in consideration of everyone smaller than him.

Instead of turning her toward him, he closed their gap and brought his mouth down against her ear. She braced herself for the warmth of his lips but shivered as he spoke. “I’m a simple guy, Daisy. I don’t do games. I told you that you can have anything you want. And right now, I want to kiss you. Is that what you want?”

She turned around and tilted her head back to accommodate for how much bigger he was than her. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was almost magnetic, but she fought it. It was possible that she might not survive the electricity of feeling his skin under her fingers. His hands slid down to hold her by her hips, apparently just as stubborn as she was to avoid making the first move. Hurried breaths reached her ears but she didn’t know which of them it was coming from.

She felt him studying her face and instinctively bit down on her lower lip. He seemed to acknowledge this movement as an agreement. Before she could brace herself, he said “Fuck it” and crashed against her mouth.

As soon as he felt her melt into the kiss, there was nothing tender about his attack. Her fingers laced into his hair, urging his tongue to press harder against hers. Adam lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. At this angle, there was no doubt that he wanted this as badly as she did. She rolled her hips against his and the groan that escaped his mouth filled every hollow of her body.

It was more than she could have ever imagined. Tongues fought for dominance as they battled to memorize every curve and point of each other’s mouth. But it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew this need wasn’t one-sided, she was greedy and was going to take what she wanted.

“Bathroom,” she muttered against his lips. He understood immediately and walked them into the first door. Her bottom still sat against his forearms and legs wrapped around his waist. Once they entered, the lock of the door signaled more danger. The heat at her core grew.

She whimpered as he set her down, lamenting the loss of his body weight against hers. Her annoyance didn’t last long, though, as he flattened his palm between her legs.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Already there,” she huffed out.

“Trust me, Dais.” He smothered her with another cardiac arrest-inducing kiss. “This is only the surface of how good you and I can feel together.”

With that, he invaded her leggings as his middle finger ran up and down her wetness.

“Oh god. Adam, I-I. Please don’t stop.”

He continued his slow teasing as she watched him swallow. “I told you. Anything you want. But not even the apocalypse could stop me from stroking you right now.”

She laughed at him. “Only you could make me feel this turned on and ready to burst with laughter at the same time.”

“Only actively trying at one of those right now,” he grunted. “But happy to help.”

Her smile quickly faded as her chin dropped and a moan broke free.

His finger ran its way up to her clit before sliding back down to push into her entrance.

He absorbed her moan with his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers. She imagined him repeating the motion where his finger was now working. She clenched but soon released. As close as she was to the edge, she wasn’t willing to let him off this easily.

She rubbed her hand against the hardness threatening to break the fly of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a small whimper. She slowly pulled back, reaching to bring her leggings down to her knees. She turned to bend over against the sink.

“Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

She watched as Adam moved toward her slowly, each second that she waited for him feeling like torture. His hand found her entrance again, now sliding in two fingers. He pumped into her slower this time, leaning over her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna fuck you here in this bathroom. I’ve thought about this for too long to end it with a quickie. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

She worked her hips against his hand for a bit longer before accepting defeat. Immediately, part of her worried that he was using this as an excuse to break off whatever this was. But another part considered what could happen within the walls of a hotel room.

The drive back felt like punishment. The only thing that stopped her from worrying was the fact that she felt the buzz of his need for her in the air. Every glance he threw her way was full of hunger. She thanked all her lucky stars that he had only had one drink. Having to walk back to the hotel would’ve taken even longer and would’ve surely put a stop to this.

Once they got to the hotel, they navigated the lobby and hallway with caution. They both knew to keep their distance. Without discussion, she led him to her room, making out with him as soon as his tall frame was through the threshold.

Hands on his belt, she inched backward toward her bed. Suddenly, she felt Adam pull back.

His hands ran through his hair, a sure tell of his discomfort.

“We shouldn't be doing this. I've been so good at trying to keep things professional between us. From the very first table read, I saw you and knew I had to be careful. It helped to remind myself that this was your first big film. But this second film has been different. So much more comfortable. Like we’ve known each other forever. I find myself constantly wanting to be around you. Telling myself that you’ve got no reason outside of work to spend time with me is a daily routine. But then you invited me out and I got high on the thought that someone like you might want me, too. But I let it get too far. This was a mistake. I should go.”

She couldn’t believe the audacity he had to tell her those things. Her face flushed, no longer from being turned on, but instead from anger.

“Well fuck you, Adam. You're a FUCKING COWARD!”

He matched the disgust in her voice. “I'm fucking married, Daisy.”

“Oh, I'm well aware. Every day that I pretend it's only my character that's pulled toward you? I remind myself you're married. On the days we don't work together and I sit wishing you were there with me? I remind myself you're married. It might as well be tattooed on my bloody tongue considering how many times I have to tell myself. So don't pretend you're doing me a favor by telling me something that does absolutely nothing to stop me from wanting you !”

She panted with exasperation.

“It should.”

“Well, it doesn't. I’m not asking for forever, Adam. I’m just asking you to be mine right now. I know how this plays out. I always have. And spoiler alert, in no version of our story does it end with you and I walking hand in hand through a hardware store, picking out wallpaper for our future child's room. It does, however, always end with me in England and you going back to HER,” she spat out. “So either hand me that bottle of tequila so I can forget this ever happened or be a man and finish what you fucking started. ”

The hunger was back in his eyes as they dared each other to blink first.

“I'm going to hell for this,” he said through gritted teeth, taking a step toward her.

“I'll see you there,” she smirked.

Clothes flew off in a race as they stumbled onto the bed. She laid back and gasped when she saw how big he was.

Adam worked to cover her entire body with kisses that she was convinced would leave marks. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked absently, lightly grazing her nipple with his teeth.

She struggled to focus, her desire battling with any coherent thoughts.

“I have a, a condition” she breathed out between moans.

“Ok,” he acknowledged, moving on to treat her second nipple to the same attention.

“It-it makes it painful for me to take anything...anyone...too...OH MY GOD. Too deep.” He blew against her nipple as she tried to finish. “And... I think ...you would get very deep.”

A smirk stretched across his face. “Then you let me know if it’s too much.” His fingers found her folds again, dripping with her need to feel him. “How should I take you?”

“Any way you want,” she breathed out. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

Adam began to look around and she realized what he was looking for.

“Oh. And I, uh, have an IUD because of the condition. It’s actually easier for me to take you if you don’t wear a condom.”

He growled, then grabbed his length in his hand and began rubbing himself against her opening. She could feel her need coating him. She lifted her hips and he accepted her offer with a slow thrust into her center. He filled her like no one had before, except maybe a toy her sister had gifted her as a gag gift.

“Daisy…” he moaned, his solid biceps holding himself up to keep from penetrating her too deeply.

He stayed there just like that for a while, wrapped by her and taking short breaths. Knowing that he was probably nervous to hurt her sent a pang to her heart.

“I. You. You feel so good. You can give me more,” she pleaded. “Not deeper, just, it feels so good when you slide in me.”

Still balancing his weight over her body, he began to fuck into her faster. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rubbed my cock wishing it were you around me,” he said.

She squeezed in response. He responded by pulling out and sliding back in agonizingly slow.

Her patience had left her from the moment he touched her in the bar hallway. She began to move her hips in a figure-eight motion, urging him to leave his mark in every part of her. He took her hint and picked up his tempo, being happily rewarded with her repetitive moaning of his name.

Adam stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He had a unique way of making her feel nothing and everything all at once. It was a feeling she could get used to, even feel possessive over. And with that thought, she cursed herself for confusing this for something more. She zoned back into reality and pushed against his shoulder while using her hips to flip him over. He groaned in delight at the position change and she ground into his hardness. Anxious to rid the moment of any sentiment, she began bouncing up and down along his length. He ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. He continued to move inward until his thumb found her clit, palm still resting flat against her stomach. God, the size of this man was enough to make her come.

Feeling her pick up speed, he urged her on. “Come for me, Daisy. Let yourself go on this hard cock. You love how hard I am for you, don’t you?” He continued rubbing soft circles into her clit. Matched with his words, it was enough for her to cry out his name.

She unraveled onto his chest just as she felt him grunt and fill her. Waves of satisfaction continued to pass as they laid together. He cradled her against him as they waited for their breaths to slow.

He slowly lifted her off of him and turned her to face him. He kissed her softly and lay his head back against the pillow. His eyes seemed to search hers for answers on how to handle this transition back into reality. Not having a clue, she chose the easy way out and turned her back to him to lay on her side. Adam took it as an invitation for another level of intimacy. Her whole body tensed and released as she felt him lay tiny kisses behind her ear. He worked downwards, finally settling his chin into the crook of her neck. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

She sighed, knowing what she needed to do. “3, 2, 1. Okay. Here goes. I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“No, you just finished doing the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life like...two minutes ago.”

“Wow. What a terribly awful innuendo that was.”

“But not untrue?” he teased.

“I’m serious. Adam, as much as it pains me to say this. I think you should go. This was truly...unbelievable. Like, really, really, good. But like I said, I don't expect anything else from this. From you. But if you stay the night...I just might get confused.”

“No.”

“No? Not really up for debate. Go.” She used all her strength to push the giant out of her bed.

He stood but didn’t make any movement to get ready. “I won’t.”

She threw on her sternest face and blinked slowly. “I’m saying you have to.”

Undeterred by her insistence, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and settled it against her lips. “Shh, you’re mine right now.”

That was enough to make her give up her fight and pull his face down to hers. They resumed their earlier position as he turned her onto her side. His body spooned hers protectively and he planted a gentle kiss against her shoulder. It seemed to be his new favorite spot. Her stomach dropped and filled with fear and guilt. She closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon - knowing it was too late to avoid the crash and burn.

Chapter 3 - Don’t Feel Like Crying

Daisy’s alarm went off on her phone as she dragged the starched hotel pillow over her head.

“Shut up, you!”

She fumbled to find the source of her disturbance and squeezed until the ringing stopped. It was still dark out and she didn’t know who she had pissed off to be called in at such a god-awful hour.

She was being dramatic.

In actuality, she knew she hadn’t angered anyone. Strange hours were a well-known consequence of her chosen profession. But she also knew her internal body clock wasn't wired for this.

Over the past month, Daisy hadn’t spent more than three nights in a single bed. As she glanced in the mirror, she could see it was beginning to take a toll on her. She adored the world of professional acting - but, the press and promos? Not so much. I’ll be looking 40 before I even turn 30, she thought, reaching for her eye cream.

She moved like a zombie through her hotel room, choosing vegan snacks and a tea tumbler in place of brains. Today was going to be another long stretch, but in a few more days, it would all be over.

Over. What a strange concept that was. She allowed herself to think back to the very first press tour for The Force Awakens. It was all so new and exciting back then. It had been nerve-wracking of course, but there was also something so special about that time. Her heart twinged as she remembered that year with fondness. In spite of the whirlwind of interviews, red carpets, and photoshoots, she had formed new bonds. It was a time of getting to know her castmates, crew members, hair and makeup artists.

And him, her ugly conscience reminded her.

Right. Him.

He had slightly more experience than her when it came to the press, but that didn’t make him hate it any less. Like her, he had never done anything on so large a scale. The pressure to be someone that both kids and adults could relate to was a different kind of terrifying. Naturally, they had latched onto one another. Her delightful inexperience with the industry offset his social unease and aloof tendencies. They would find ways to make each other laugh after answering the same question for the tenth time that day. Late nights were spent walking through foreign cities in disguises. Forced together by a job, they had become close friends.

And then there was the filming of The Last Jedi. Friends soon grew into something more. There was a closeness between them, the kind one would find between childhood mates. A sense of protection and duty to the other. Yet, too fused with desire to call it platonic. There was no proper label for what they were. Not when there was a stifling awareness of their complex situation. After that first night together, they had spent a few more weeks in a bubble of their own. It wasn’t all smiles, but it was all theirs.

Still, she wasn’t wrong when she had told him, “In no version of our story does it end with you and I…”

They had both seen the ending from the start. He had tried to pull away before it even began. She had tried to protect her heart by keeping it fun. In the end, none of that did anything to lessen the pain.

“Daisy,” he whispered over the phone. She could tell he had been drinking. The sun was beginning to wake London which meant it was the middle of the night in New York.

“Joanne’s pregnant,” he forced out.

Any other time, she would have made a smartass comment about his voice cracking. But now, no words rose.

She heard him take a few more breaths as if he was going to say more. When she continued to sit there in silence, he began again.

“I know we were supposed to meet up but –“

It was too much. Daisy hung up the call and threw her phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce onto the floor. Her body shook violently as tears spilled out. A buzz against the hardwood signaled another incoming call. She didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screamed into the empty apartment. Unintelligible cries came out in waves, sounding more hoarse and strained as they went on.

Minutes, then hours passed until she finally went numb.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” Somehow, Daisy had made it from her hotel room into the elevator, whose doors now opened to the lobby. She wondered how long she had been stuck here in her memories.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry to hold you up.”

She left the elevator and threw on a smile. This is your dream, Daisy. Remember? The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters.

The day had been a blur of photoshoots, interviews, and trials for tomorrow’s premiere look. In theory, she should’ve been very tired by now. Yet, she lay on top of her covers nursing nervous energy. What did she have to be nervous about?

Besides everyone hating the movie that you’re at the center of? she thought.

It seemed her old friend, anxiety, was right on schedule.

She considered heading to the gym. Maybe she could work off the negative energy. But this was Los Angeles, not London. She was sure to be mobbed, disguise or not. Her phone vibrated on the side table and she reluctantly stole a glance.

Joanne will be with me tomorrow at the premiere. Looking forward to seeing you. - A

The nausea and shortness of breath that followed confirmed a fear. She was, in fact, nervous about more than just the reception of the film.

---

“Come, everyone! I need more selfies to remember you all by!”

It was a fact that no one could ever deny Joonas his selfies. There were kind people in the world, good people, even - and then there was Joonas. Daisy paused mid-conversation with John to squeeze in for the photo. Adam turned around from his discussion as well and offered her a small smile. Her stomach felt like it was filling with helium until she shook her head and body into submission. She responded with a small “hello” before turning her gaze to Joonas’ phone.

Joonas studied the photo with pleasure and brought his friends in for a quick hug. He asked them what they had been up to since they last saw one another. Their answers went unheard when his manager came to steal him away. John's agent soon followed and he checked in with Daisy with his eyes. "I'll see you in a bit, Peanut?" She feigned contentment and gave a small nod.

The unease washed over her again when Daisy was finally alone with Adam.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Dais.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. You look quite handsome as well.”

Pleasantries continued and she hardly recognized the words she was hearing. She and Adam despised small talk. This wasn't them. But then again, "them" was a long-forgotten memory.

At the realization, Daisy sighed and dropped her guard. Her eyes darkened. “Why did you text me, Adam?”

“Oh. I wasn't sure if you had received it.”

“Why,” she repeated, losing her patience.

“I don’t know. I thought you should know. That you might...want to know?” He was starting to gesture his hands wildly and she knew she had caught him off guard. “I...after the way we left off at the end of filming...I thought you might want to...prepare yourself? But that was presumptuous of me, I’m sorry. You’re clearly okay. Very okay. ”

When she didn’t respond, Adam scratched the back of his neck. “So uh, I got a chance to see bits of interviews you’ve done. You didn’t have to say all those nice things, you know. Especially after everything that happened.”

“Why not? There’s no point in lying. Also, it’s strange,” she paused. “Cause you see, whenever I’m in an interview and someone asks me something, and I go oh! There was that one time that Adam and I - And at first I would think, God, you can’t share that, Dais! You’ll look like a lovesick puppy. All the headlines will read, Daisy Ridley, a Fool for Her Co-star? But then I decided that I didn't care. That as long as I had all these memories, really fun and dear ones - it meant that it was real.”

“Of course it was real.”

She led him into a smaller hallway. This conversation was never part of the plan, but she knew that any news of it could hurt both her and Adam in a way that would be unsalvageable.

“How can you be so sure? You’re the one who walked away.”

“That’s not fair. You never gave me a chance to figure it out.”

“Bloody hell, Adam. There was nothing to figure out. When you called me to tell me you were going to be a father, you’d already made your choice. You only called because, in some sick, twisted way, you were hoping for my permission. You needed me to tell you it was okay.”

“No, I needed you to know how complicated it was.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face the wall. “The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters,” she whispered.

"What was that?"

She turned back, ignoring him and taking in his contorted expression. She straightened her spine and began. “I promised myself I was past this. So yes. It WAS complicated. But now - it’s not. There has to be something there for things to be complicated.”

“It’s still complicated for me,” he bit out.

“Please...just stop. Look, you were right. Just like always, you’re right. Between seeing you here and being sent everywhere to perform a dog and pony show, I’m not okay. Not even close. But being out here doing all this right now? The promotion and press - it's somehow the only thing helping me keep it together. As long as I’m busy, I don’t feel like crying."

He continued to stare at her but didn't venture a response. It seemed he no longer wished to argue, just listen.

She went on. "Don’t get me wrong. I understand how stupid I sound, whining about all of it. I understand the immense luck I’ve had that I get to do this for a living. You taught me that. But...I think I just need to be home for a bit. Need to lock myself up for a while. Sure, I’ll keep grinding it out and praying that someone sees me beyond this...circus. Get employed and all. But I just need a break.”

His eyes hadn’t left hers, so she broke the contact and spoke at her hands which she'd been wringing unknowingly.

“So please, let me go out there and do the old song and dance. Hug my friends, say goodbye to the role. Then I’ll go home to London and we'll never have to see each other again.”

“You can’t know that," his voice emerged, shaken by the finality of her statement.

She smiled gently and raised her eyes once more. “But I do. Everyone does. You and I no longer run in the same circles. You are...a force of nature, Adam. Like the ocean. You're reckless. Dangerous. But so damn beautiful to watch. Leaving a mark on everything you touch simply by being yourself. Me though, I'm just a rock that got swept up in your tide. Inevitably and forever changed by you, but unable to leave any impressions in return.”

She felt the heat forming behind her eyes and turned to leave before small droplets betrayed her. He grabbed for her hand but she pulled away in time. "Don't go," he whispered.

She turned with a final glance. "Thank you for everything, Adam. I don't regret a thing. But you don't get to decide things for me anymore."

Chapter 4 - Home to You

The sea air assaulted all her senses and she closed her eyes to let it wash over her. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe without struggle. Sure, the air was humid and rain was guaranteed to be waiting in the wings. But, it was freeing to be outside with absolutely no agenda.

She laughed.

That wasn't entirely true. She did have an agenda. But it was one all her own. This visit was all about leaving the bubble that her life has become, even if just for a few moments. It was about moving on. About liking herself again.

She had planned this trip a couple of months ago. She would have forgotten about it had her sisters not reminded her.

“Hush your beak, Dais,” Kika said. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Am I?"

“Completely. You're not going to die a miserable, lonely, spinster.”

“I didn't say miserable and lonely!” She glared at her flesh and blood.

“Both of you. That's enough,” Poppy chimed in. “But Daisy, I do agree. Just because it sucks right now doesn't mean you're out of luck for the rest of your life. You made the right choice.”

“Breaking off an engagement. I'm the quintessential dumb millennial,” Daisy groaned.

“No, dumb would've been ignoring your true feelings. Your energy deserves to exist unbound. So do you.”

“But I don't feeeeeel unbound. I feel like some sort of gross hairball just stuck there waiting to be coughed out whenever the cat deems ready.”

Kika snorted and Poppy soon followed. Both her sisters unraveled into fits of giggles. After throwing a pillow at Kika's head, Daisy joined in.

The night had gone much like this. Tears, giggles, refill wine glasses. Repeat.

Daisy caught her breath from the laugh attack and sighed. “So what do I do now? Shut everyone out and vanish to a secluded place to find myself? ‘Eat Pray Love’ this out?”

“That's not a terrible idea,” said Poppy.

“I was only kidding. Mine isn't exactly a life you just walk out on without heavy speculation. Not even Joaquin Phoenix quit acting successfully.”

“Always the drama queen, Dais,” Kika muttered with a roll of her eyes. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a vacation. Just a small one. Go. Grab your laptop. Let's find you someplace nice.”

Where to go? Where to go? she thought to herself. Her sisters chimed in with suggestions but she insisted on making the choice herself.

In a fog of restlessness, hurt, and nostalgia, she clicked away to her heart’s content. Thirty minutes later, she shut the lid. “Done,” she smiled, feeling victorious.

After reading the confirmation email the next morning, she considered canceling it. Choosing to travel there was a bad idea. Her finger hovered over the button as she thought about it more. There was a possibility that this could be the closure she needed to begin the next chapter of her life.

“Good morning!” a man called out. Daisy snapped out of her daydream and greeted the man she assumed was her driver.

“We're heading to Dingle, correct?”

An inhale. Then an exhale. It's too late to back out now, she told herself. “Yes. Thank you so much,” she answered with a smile.

---

A week and a half had passed since she had arrived in Ireland. She sat with her morning tea and sipped it, taking in how at peace she felt. She felt like the old Daisy, again. Or maybe a new one. It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so present in a moment.

Her stay hadn’t been all magical. The prior week was a different picture in all respects. Like torrential rains, Daisy was never at balance. One second, she felt euphoria from being in one of her favorite places. The next, only bittersweet flashbacks of memories to a time spent with someone who wasn't hers.

Phone in hand, she stared at the photo of the cliffside she had snapped on her drive the day before. It was nondescript enough - and she wasn't in it. But he would know where it was.

She only had a few days left before going home and she had been toying with the idea of reaching out to him for closure. During a sob-filled emergency phone session, her therapist had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But Daisy wanted to. Was determined to. Where better than from here, the place they had first fallen into this mess? She wanted to rewrite the narrative and make new memories in this place. She wanted to return home without burden.

Saw this view and couldn't help thinking of you. She deleted the words and tried again. While it was true, she had to establish boundaries. She didn't want him to think she was opening up the door to anything unhealthy. This was about making peace with the past and trying to relearn a friendship with him.

Recognize this? she typed. “That seems harmless enough,” she told herself.

“1, 2, 3, SEND!” Her finger froze. She got up and walked onto the balcony. She hoped some fresh air would give her the nerve. She repeated the countdown again. “You’ve got this, Dais!”

She couldn’t do it. She jumped up and down, shaking her limbs to pump herself up.

“OH SHIT,” she exclaimed as her phone slipped from her fingers. She caught it with a pincer grasp and made a mental note to thank her trainer for her quick reflexes. She kissed her phone in relief.

Then she saw it.

Her clumsiness had done it for her. She had sent the text.

“Well. That’s that, then.” Daisy tucked her phone back into her pocket knowing there was nothing she could do now.

After dinner, she drew herself a bath and poured a glass of wine. Her phone buzzed. She had forgotten to turn off the ringer.

“AGH. Who’s bothering me?” She reached to turn it off but stopped when she saw the notification. Adam had responded. Throughout the course of the day, she had forgotten about her text to him. Or her subconscious was working overtime to protect her if he didn’t text back.

How could I forget? I embarrassed myself soon after with shitty poetry recitation.

Though alone, she blushed. She had taken the photo because the view was breathtaking and so uniquely Dingle. She hadn’t sent it with the intention of reliving that afternoon. But now she couldn’t think of anything but. And the fact that Adam had brought it up sent a pulse straight to her core.

She closed her eyes and slid her hand downward. What started out that day years ago as an innocent request evolved at high speed.

They sat in the rental car staring out at Dunquin Harbor. He had just returned from Cannes to promote Paterson.

“What was filming that like? Quite different than this, I gather?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Different type of film. Very little dialogue -”

“Wait, so actually very similar!”

Adam chuckled. “Paterson was very much a listener and a man of few words. Verbally, at least. His poetry is where the audience learns who he is.”

“Right! Tell me more about poetry!”

He rolled his lips inward. “Uh, what about it? I didn’t really know much going in, but meeting Ron Padgett, the poet who wrote the original poetry in the film was great. And Jim Jarmusch actually studied it in college. So yeah, definitely new for me.”

“So you spent some time studying some of this Ron guy’s work before you went into filming?”

“Among others. But, yes. It was helpful.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

“Yeah...let’s not,” he shied away.

She pulled out her phone and typed in “Ron Padgett poems” as he tried to change the subject. He called attention back to the landscape in front of them. She clicked through on a link and extended her phone to him.

“Here. Read it to me.”

He pulled a face.

“Please? It’s like a table read. But just for me.” She smiled and his mouth mirrored hers.

He squeezed her forearm affectionately before agreeing. “Only a little.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” she smirked, feeling quite pleased with herself.

“How to Be Perfect. By Ron Padgett."

“Get some sleep.” His thumb began stroking her forearm.

“Don't give advice.” He grazed his fingertips up her arm to draw circles around her shoulder.

“Take care of your teeth." A small kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“And gums.” Another to the opposite corner.

“Don't be afraid of anything,” his mouth met her temple.

“Beyond your control.”

“Don't be afraid.” A gentle stroke of her hair.

“For instance,”

“That the building,” he traced the line of her clavicle.

“Will collapse.” His fingers teased the sensitive skin of her neck.

“As you sleep.” A kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Or that someone - ” A quick bite of her lobe.

“You love,” he kissed her mouth tenderly.

“Will suddenly drop dead.” A small smile pulled at his mouth.

He took his hand and ran it down her body, stopping where her legs met.

“Eat an orange every morning.” He lifted her dress.

“Be friendly.” He teased her now with his index and middle finger in a V, rubbing soft strokes against the outer edge of her desire.

“It will help make you happy.” He brushed his hand across her clit and her breath caught in her throat.

“Raise your pulse rate.” Another brush.

“To 120 beats per minute.” Then pressure.

“For 20 straight minutes.” He rubbed up and down slowly.

“Four or five times a week - ” She raised her hips to grind against him faster. He laughed and removed his hand.

“Doing anything - ” She whined.

“You enjoy.” He returned his hand.

“Hope,” a finger pushed into her.

“for everything.” A deeper exploration of her.

“Expect nothing.” He withdrew himself.

He dropped the phone and took her face in his hands. He took her mouth like a man drinking his last sip of water before heading out into the scorching desert. His hand slid back down her torso, reading her need for release.

She put her phone down and let her own fingers roam downwards. She sighed as she softly teased herself, trying to mimic the light touches he had used. Ok, so closure may be harder than anticipated , she thought. Resigning to try again tomorrow, she put the phone down to focus on her pleasure. A reply could wait until then.

---

When she gathered the courage to respond to him the next day, she was filled with relief. Their exchange was easy and amicable. The familiarity comforted her like a childhood blanket.

She continued to update him about her trip. He laughed at the right moments and chided her the way any good friend would.

I don’t want to leave 😢, she typed to him.

Where are you headed next?

Home. I fly into Heathrow tomorrow. I’m not ready to be a proper adult again.

Ehh, I don’t think there’s such a thing. We’re all just faking it.

Thanks, friend. Any suggestions for my last night here in good ol Dingle?

A huge bacon cheeseburger.

You suck.

She laughed at his teasing. This was good. A healthy good. She wasn't even upset that she had to pack the mess that had accumulated over her stay.

---

Daisy walked off the plane and blinked in succession. There was Adam, attempting to look inconspicuous in a hoodie and sneakers.

“Oh. Hey, Adam. Are you...stalking me?”

“Kind of. I asked Kika for your flight information.”

Her phone started ringing. “Oh. This is awkward, but I've got a driver waiting to pick me up. It’s really nice to see you? But I have to go.”

He laughed nervously. “I...was kind of hoping you would let me go with you. I've got no other way of getting back.”

“Uh. Sure. Why not?”

---

An hour later, she thanked the driver and headed up to her apartment. Adam trailed behind with her bags. She unlocked the door to her apartment and gestured for him to enter.

“So, what brings you to London?” she began.

“I’m actually in France for the next month filming for a Ridley Scott movie.”

"Heh." An awkward laugh. “I knew that. I don’t know why I asked. I just didn’t wanna sound like a stalker. Then again, you showed up waiting outside my plane so I guess we’re both creepers now.”

He smiled. She melted.

“So...I’m not gonna lie...when I got your text - ”

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Hold that thought. This is kind of rude of me to cut you off. You’re a guest in my home and all. But I really need to do something first. And it’s going to be very awkward but just bear with me through it. Okay? Please?”

“I’m the one who intruded on your day so please, go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. Be strong, Dais, she reminded herself.

“When I was in Ireland, I wrote you a letter.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going to be a lot, but I don’t know that I’ll have the balls to read this again. And right now, for some godforsaken reason, I feel like I can do it.”

“You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

“No, I’m going to.”

“Okay. Should I...turn around?” he suggested.

“No no. Just go ahead and sit down.”

Adam looked down, shifting his gaze from one edge of the chair to the other. He was already seated but was too polite to note that. “I will sit.”

Daisy walked over to her handbag and pulled out a paper folded into quarters. She hoped he didn’t notice how worn it looked. Proof that she had fumbled with it more times than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She offered him a silent thanks for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn around,” she muttered.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Adam said.

Her pulse was racing. “Here goes."

"Dear Adam,

I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken right now. I know the last time we spoke, I told you I was past it, but we both know that was just me trying to put some distance between us. I’m gutted even thinking about the way you asked me to stay. It makes me want to cry all over again (which I’ve been doing a lot of over here).

It’s been REALLY hard to make all my feelings go away, which is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m desperate to do something, anything, to get proper closure and move on.

Saying goodbye to you feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself. That’s silly, though. What’s that saying? You can’t lose something that was never yours? Trying to let you go feels like trying to quit an addiction. Which I guess makes Dingle my rehab center (a really lovely one though).

Looking back at everything with 2020 vision (haha, get it? 2020?) - I was fucked from the start. Meeting you was completely life-altering in a way baby Dais could have never expected. You were so REAL in a blur of superficiality. Latching onto you felt like a way of holding onto reality. A tether to the tangible when everything and everyone else wanted to turn me into someone I wasn't ready to be.

And I think you felt that too, in a way. Which is how we fell so easily into friendship. I truly do think that what we had started off innocently, and I’m grateful you were there for it all.

But I’m also SO angry with you. I fell in love with you. And you let me. And for that - I want to scream at everyone and everything. IT'S SHIT. I know it’s not fair to place all the blame on you. But I was in my early 20s and the less experienced of us. I misplaced our mutual understanding onto something more. But as someone with a wife, you should’ve fought harder to push me away. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you insult me until I hated you? Why did you say nice things to me in private and let me play make-believe?

My feelings for you were so obvious that anyone could have seen them from a mile away. I suspect most did. I was so hopeful that if I was patient and attentive, you might drop everything for me with a grand gesture. But eventually, I learned that that’s not who you are. I know you’ve struggled with many relationships in the past, both romantic and otherwise. Frankly, I think part of you finds romantic feelings uncomfortable. I don’t say it to be cruel, but I simply care for you and think maybe someone needs to say it. I don’t like that I tried to change you - it wasn’t my place. It isn’t anyone’s.

But onto the positive. Cause that’s what all this is supposed to be about. Typical Dais, unable to stay on task.

Loving you, as painful as it was, also taught me so much about myself. Professionally, being around you made me a better performer. I was so set on being a worthy scene partner. Your instincts always pushed me to find authenticity in everything. Your humbled way of approaching the business is still unlike anyone else’s I've met. I’ll always try to maintain these things as I go forward.

As a...romantic partner? You made me feel seen. As I’ve tried to move on with others, I always felt I’ve had to hide parts of me. Yes, our situation...fuck, let’s call it what it was. Our affair - was based on hiding. But only because of its nature. Behind closed doors, you accepted me in my entirety. The goofiness, the grotesque parts, the darker ideations. I never had to hide these parts with you. So in a way, loving you, then losing you, taught me that it shouldn’t have to feel controlled with the right person. I shouldn’t have to be a budget version of myself to be loved.

If these are truly the last words I say to you (even if not in actuality. Cause I’m a melt and may not even send this). Just a few thoughts. I am so proud of you. The awards and Ben Solo campaign are proof that the world finally sees what I’ve always known. You are a once in a lifetime type of human. I know you hate it - the recognition, but you deserve it. And so much more. I truly hope you’re happy. I know I’m trying to be.

All my love, Daisy”

When she mustered up the strength to turn around, she didn’t know if she was seeing straight. Through her watery eyes, it looked like Adam was crying, too.

“Daisy,” was all he said. He got up and walked toward her, taking her into his arms. Silent tears fell between them, darkening their clothing.

“I can’t lie. When you first texted me, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d see your name in my phone for...Well, I didn’t know that I’d see it again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Can I tell you something? It's actually why I came to see you.” He asked.

“Sure.” Her head was still pressed against his chest.

“I don’t expect you to say anything in response, but...Joanne and I separated. My PR will be announcing it in the next couple of months now that award season is over.”

“Oh,” was all that she could say.

“Yeah.”

“I called off the engagement. To Tom. He understood that my heart was never fully in it.”

“He did?”

“Alright, maybe not right away. But yes. He's all moved out. I think we might be able to be friends again, eventually.”

Adam looked around at the apartment for the first time. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, just little old me again.”

The energy in the apartment shifted and Adam tilted her chin up. He kissed her gently at first as if to test the waters. When she opened her mouth to take more of him in, his attack became more fierce. She matched his kisses, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was a deadly cocktail of heartache, longing, and love.

She couldn’t get enough of him. The ache for him, both his heart and his growing hardness returned. It was like riding a bike. The solace of revealing every last feeling to him increased her desire. She no longer feared the ache of having him. Only the absence of his weight on her.

He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her stomach.

She felt him shimmy her pants down her ass. He laid soft kisses on each cheek before sliding his tongue up between them. Her whole body trembled as he explored every forbidden part of her.

“OH MY GOD,” she cried out.

Her encouragement was all he needed. He adjusted her knees so he could access her more easily. A small rub of her clit. A lapping of her juices. Then back to licking up into her from front to back. She had never had anyone taste her puckering hole before. She thought she might come right there. She reached back to pull at his hair and covered him with her release.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She had claimed him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, she needed more of this feeling.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, guiding it into herself. It had been so long since she had felt him. She forgot how deep he could feel. She squeezed him in. Further. Then further. His hair fell on his face and she reached up to push it back.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him up and down his neck. This made him go crazy and he took her with even more force. She felt split in two. He grabbed her breasts as he held his rapid pace. He returned the favor and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“ADAM. I’M COMING,” she announced.

She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed him in one last time. “DAISY. FUUUCK.” He collapsed onto her, their sweat and tears now indistinguishable.

A moment later, she came back to her senses. “Goddamnit,” Daisy said, staring at the ceiling. “That was not supposed to happen.”

Adam rolled over. “Why does it matter? We’re both single now. We can be together.”

“We can’t,” she insisted. “We can't just start over when we, THIS, started from a place of lies and hiding.”

“Who the hell cares, Dais? Whose business is it but ours?”

“Even you know it's not that easy.”

He growled. “I know that none of that changes how I feel about you. People-pleasing is a game for those that lack understanding of their core selves.”

“Ugh. You sound so pretentious!!”

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little confused. We're both single and now we can't be together?? Was I only appealing to you when I was married? Help me understand this shit because I sure as hell can't.”

She got off the bed and began throwing his clothes at him. “The fact you would even suggest that is infuriating. You need to go. I've said my piece. That was all this was about. There's no reset button to any of this.”

Fully dressed, he stopped at her bedroom door. He looked ready to punch the wall. At the last moment, he opened his fist. It was almost as if he realized he had done enough damage for the day. Instead, his heavy hand slammed against the door frame.

He continued on and reached for the front doorknob. He looked back at her and she shuddered. She had seen him angry and frustrated, but had never been the one in his sights.

With a slam of the door, he left.

She began crying. So much for closure, she thought. Daisy searched for her phone and debated calling her mum or sisters. But then, a sudden cold sweat came on. She would have to admit what had happened. She dropped the phone. She wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

Sometime later, a knock at her door startled her from her stupor. She panicked. Security knew better than to let anyone up without her prior approval.

She heard a throat clear and then a thud. Much like a stray limb hitting the hard surface. “OW.”

The voice was unmistakable. She opened the door.

She looked at him and stared blankly. Her eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing here?

He extended a dark chocolate bar toward her.

“Hi. I'm Adam.”

“What?” She stared at him like tiny giraffes were dancing on his shoulders.

He shushed her and started again. “Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you. At the risk of looking like an ass...can I take you out? I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about this.”

Finally understanding him, she smiled.

#daiver #adam x daisy #adam driver x daisy ridley #realpersonfic #real person fic #rpf #im literally trying to chase you away if this isn't your ish #daiver rpf #mine #adamsy #adaisy #fanfic

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