#'This will all pass soon enough if we let it.' which is obviously a parallel to Silver's 'Guilt is natural but it also goes... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkscowardschampions · 1 year

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Jali Pt.2

Ali: [I’m dying at the parallel but also how completely different it is because of course, this girl doesn’t know all of that obviously but we’re buzzing because we want to be with you so this is everything we wanted and probably did not expect ‘let me be yours’]

Johnny: [I HAD to because that’s EVERYTHING and who am I if I don’t do these things, likewise soz Ali cos you probs will pass out but he is gonna have to hook up with you again rn immediately because it’s the only acceptable response, and struggle even harder to pull out than he did the first time because !!]

Ali: [you 1000% will have to which I’m sure has not happened to you yet so there’s another first but there’s no way in which you would not because you’re already so far gone]

Johnny: [keep her from falling off this bike and injuring herself more than she already has with these antics thank you, boy, we’re being too kind to y’all saying you aren’t being discovered by anyone but Ali deserves to lead a charmed life in that respect when we’ve surrounded her by death, let a bitch live]

Ali: [imagine, we’re already dazed enough without actually waking up on the cold hard ground about it, just looking at him when we come ‘round like you’re still here, looking down because he would have had to cum on you if he had to hold you whilst pulling out, playing with that between your fingers before tasting it]

Johnny: [when you’re just looking at her and stroking her hair softly like you would if she was casually asleep and didn’t know about it, not this boy caught being soft haha, have to just immediately pretend that didn’t happen and watch her other antics]

Ali: [we know how soft you are boy but we’re never going to tease you for it because it isn’t something you should be ashamed of in our opinion obvs, you are welcome for the distraction in how accidentally feral we’re being when we just wanted to see what it feels and tastes like here, also because I’m sure we were so near saying we loved you or something wild before so now we’re keeping quiet in the slightly sobered post-orgasm haze of it all lol, still giving you a little smile that’s basically like ‘you okay?’ without saying it, as if he was the one who KO’d]

Johnny: [‘we need to move ourselves’ cos again aware now that you were lucky not to get caught wilding and you should get slightly away from the scene of, getting up to re-dress himself only when he’s literally manoeuvred her hands so he knows they are holding onto something and she’s steady because also well aware she can’t move for a minute here, hence finding her clothes and putting them on her like she’s a baby, not that he’d know how to dress one, but you know, picking her up and everything, doing all the work here]

Ali: [nodding even if you then are just hugging onto this seat like you were him until he comes back to dress you because you don’t want to go but you also know you must and soon enough it’ll surely be an AM when the morning people start to show so you really do have to ‘you don’t have work, do you?’ because have not specified but hope this was done with a weekend the next day for y’all, fixing his hair for him, again, just to do it and so you don’t go full heart eyes mess at how he’s treating you right now]

Johnny: [tempted as I am to be evil and say you do have work it was likely at least thought about enough so none of you had to because Ronan would as well and nobody wants that the day after their bday when they’ve partied hard, it’s one of the few things you lads would care about so far as party planning goes, I’m sure, so shaking his head no in answer and then smiling because it makes his hair she just fixed go everywhere and that was not even his intention, sitting her properly on this bike now as fully dressed as she can be and starting it up again ‘hold proper tight to me’ cos he could feel how shaky she still was when he was dressing her and if she fell off wearing only this she’d have no skin left on her body]

Ali: [just smiling back and messing it up some more ‘I like it like this anyway’ just true, messy hair supremacy always, putting your arms tightly around his waist how you’re meant to ‘I’ll behave’ said like bants always but of course we actually mean it this time, can’t be falling off or stopping again immediately]

Johnny: [when you don’t fix your hair before driving off and just leave it because she said that, he’s in love, I’ve said it before, have a nice lil drive in silence for a while to try and process all the WILD shit that just happened]

Ali: [y’all deserve and need to chill like that or god knows we ain’t even gonna make it to this club lol, who’d’a thought you’d end up here tonight, not y’all, not us but here we are]

Johnny: [we ate and left no crumbs but he is gonna have to take her home eventually so it might as well be now, don’t mind him outing himself as having found out where she lives during the bad times when they weren’t speaking just so he could drive by there sometimes like an angsty bitch]

Ali: [I like to think this occurs to you when you’re halfway towards your house and definitely going in the right direction, you would just assume he had asked Ronan like he said he would when you were talking about your bike but that still means he really did that so you’re just like heheh, just squishing him a bit harder]

Johnny: [speaking of her bike, I think he should come back and get it later without her knowing when he inevitably can’t sleep because of everything that has occurred, and then he can work through the night/day swagging it up including new paint because what a mood, what a moment]

Ali: [LOVE that and I insist because got to continue being highkey in ways we can’t even think of because we’ve got home and you’re going to leave and we’re gutted this night has to be over]

Johnny: [again, not what I was planning going into this convo but it tracks, me here like soz your oversharing sister is dead cos you really could’ve returned the favour and had someone to tell all about this, girl Ro the absolute nun won’t wanna hear it]

Ali: [my boo says how typical of you to be dead, sweaty, god bless, you’re going to have to write about this in some way because you will be going insane if you don’t get it out somehow, for now, get off this bike and go stand in front of it so he can’t leave ‘I’d invite you in’ the but you would obviously not come in not needing to be said because you’re not that boy]

Johnny: [you could talk to her ghost if you want but unlike Ro you’ve probably outgrown that shit now, especially tonight lol, likewise if you wanna do a cali convo about it we can because even if Carly’s not still up you could vent and then either delete it before she is or let her reply when she is, but anyway, this boy here nodding his head in the direction of her front door ‘get yourself in’ like she’s just messing around out here and it isn’t valid]

Ali: [I feel like we probably wouldn’t come at you with this right now, it would seem a bit insensitive given the night you have had hun, maybe if you were drunker but by this point I’m feeling not, for now, coming back ‘round to the side to give this boy a goodnight kiss that’s obviously not quite as chaste as that sounds but is trying to be just a kiss]

Johnny: [because this boy is a contradiction, pushing her away like go inside you fool but at the same time kissing her back and making this into more of a kiss than she started]

Ali: [pulling at him like you’ll drag him in your house if he’s not careful]

Johnny: [gotta end up having the cliche makeout where she’s literally pushed up against her front door, I don’t make the rules]

Ali: [me like you’re lucky your parents are grieving/have a three year old so this is not waking them because you look like the messiest mess and this boy would have to run and we are having too much fun playing with fire to have to stop immediately at a real cockblock soz]

Johnny: [^^ that, the way has been no time but also would feel like such a long time to you already since all that happened, mcvickers would have to be canon heavy sleepers for how exhausted they’ve been lowkey their whole lives, thank god, cos yeah this is fun and games rn Alison but would NOT be if your mother saw the state of you, she literally would still have his jizz on her somewhere cos they didn’t have anything to wipe that off with]

Ali: [mhmm, like there is no explanation to be given here, we know what this is huns, still here whispering ‘come in’ between kisses like we think he will]

Johnny: [just kissing her harder like shh shh because he can’t/won’t]

Ali: [‘I’ll miss you’ putting your thumbs under the waistband of his trousers like you could honestly hookup here, kissing him more frantically ‘cos you know the clock is ticking for real]

Johnny: [it’s the way he’s going with it because he really has no self control around her ever, and hence his only tactic was to hardcore avoid her for however long haha, like they REALLY are gonna hookup here rn immediately]

Ali: [we really are putting our hands down your pants right now because have to be as shameless as we can be and have not done that yet ‘you’ll make me too loud’ ‘cos we know ourself and how we’d feel if you started banging us here]

Johnny: [we love a self-aware queen because too many characters be deluding themselves about what they are capable of on this subject lol, this boy though cannot resist putting his hand over her mouth while he LOOKS at her like true but I could keep you quiet]

Ali: [when all you’re gonna be able to see is our WIDE af eyes that are lowkey about to roll to the back of our head with how much we want this, basically falling to our knees like you could ALSO keep me quiet like this]

Johnny: [SUCH an intake of breath because for whatever reason doing this hadn’t occurred to him, my reasoning is that sir you like to be the one in control so you can stop whenever you decide it’s enough and not give girls (especially the girls you didn’t care about) power over you like that, but he’s not psychoanalysing himself that hard ever nevermind on this night and in this moment, but because she’s put the thought in his head and because it’s her he now WANTS it so much]

Ali: [just watching his face this entire time, trying to read this all, slowly helping him out of his clothes as much as he needs to be for this to happen ‘you can pin my head to the door with it’ just letting you know you can have all the control you want here]

Johnny: [‘Christ’ so quietly but with so much feeling because the girl is unbelievable, no notes]

Ali: [the way the turn-on of this setting has you being so bold for your first attempt here, truly not being quiet at all with how you’re getting even messier but in the grand scheme of things these sloppy choking sounds aren’t waking anyone]

Johnny: [me like please try and not be loud af yourself sir, I don’t feel like you are, not saying you’re Buster or Teddy levels of feral but you’re absolutely not Fraze levels of quiet, especially about this because for you it’s not the setting it’s that this almost feels like a first thanks to how he’s actually just letting her do what she wants to do and not forcing her to do things the way he would’ve in the past if he did these antics with other girls]

Ali: [we are making that hard for you without even registering because we’re here casually hypnotized with how much we’re loving doing this to you, trying to go as hard and as far as we can in every sense whilst we’re shamelessly touching ourself about it here on the cold hard ground]

Johnny: [when he doesn’t know it’s her first time doing this and she doesn’t know it’s his first time doing it like this, oh lads I love you, you can be rewarded for your efforts girl with the fact he fully and dangerously moans her name right here and now the way he has never before done yet, dying that this is the moment you chose boy when you both need to shh]

Ali: [moaning around him which is honestly nearer screaming which is thankfully entirely muffled but we are that !! and the EYE CONTACT we are making which could look like we’re saying shut up with our eyes but truly we’re like please never stop]

Johnny: [accidentally making this door loud because he has to brace himself against it because of how !! he is by her everything, soz everyone, it was just the wind or something excuse us, can’t even notice because soz but we’re too here in this moment]

Ali: [the way we’re speeding up here like if we do get caught our priority is to make you cum before we do, not stop and get in a less compromising position, no no, and the way we’re fucking ourselves fully at this point to match says it all]

Johnny: [another swear word that isn’t even coherent because it’s just a moan fully about this, breaking the insane eye contact to watch how hard she’s fucking herself because simply must]

Ali: [every reaction he has just fully making us lose it somehow more than the last, our entire face of makeup would be beyond wrecked and we can’t get you any further into our mouth, nor can we get our fingers deeper]

Johnny: [this is why Carly basically doesn’t wear any makeup she’s too busy hoeing and not trying to look insane to boys who wouldn’t give her any grace about it, this boy is LOSING IT too, thank god for travellers having their own language and how little she knows of it cos the extra shit he’d be saying rn that she has no business knowing, no thought to the fact Carly knows loads from living on this site her whole life and you could ask her and therefore find out, that’s just something in jemily’s back pocket if we want you to know]

Ali: [we had a look to serve but we’re never opposed to said looking getting destroyed lol, especially not for this, very handy but for now just enjoy that anyone talking another language is attractive basically, especially when you know why he has to rn]

Johnny: [mhmm, it’s not subtle when someone does a language switch especially in a moment like this when they sound INDECENT and are clearly dying, but we get it, boy, you gotta do what you gotta do when you can’t kiss her to stfu like you normally do]

Ali: [could not be more into you having so much to say, even if we can’t understand it, we’re reacting as if we can and it was all encouragement for her to go harder and finish, like he did earlier, looking at him again for the like this? Of it all when you know you’re killing him]

Johnny: [literally this is the most he has ever said to her, it’s so amusing, until he can’t speak anymore even because he’s being killed that hard and all he can do is breathe insanely and pull her hair frantically, at least until she looks at him and then he’s gotta force out her name again and hold her face because it’s the most encouragement]

Ali: [when you don’t even care or think to care that you might puke because you gotta have him in your throat and cumming right now immediately you love him so much, excuse us everyone for the unholy sounds that none of y’all better hear]

Johnny: [it’s so awkward that mcvickers and Rocky are the bedrooms downstairs but it’s your saving grace atm lads cos heavy sleepers like we said, realistically Rocky might wake up as a toddler but we’ll spare him that trauma because we can opt for the realism of her actually puking instead as it’s her first time and there’s no need for it to be traced back to y’all when this fam lives in a rough area and random drunk people have surely done that on your doorstep etc before, we will let you cum first though sir or that’s very rude]

Ali: [I have faith in you you have time to aim it at the shrubbery that’s by the door or whatever, you’re okay, also we’re not hiding the fact we’re messy from our parents because that sort of rebellious acting out, not this messy though, they don’t need to be finding out like this lmao; just be here trying to catch your breath about this like oh wow, okay]

Johnny: [there’s not much re-dressing to do as per so yet again picking this girl up off the ground, literally dusting her knees off with his hand because god knows what type of surface you were on, just lowkey caring things again]

Ali: [me like it was probably paving of some kind because right outside the door and you usually have something not just grass, soz your knees will be fucked, not for your sake because you don’t care but this boy will ‘I’ll wash them’ like you need to assure him you’re going to take care of it, obviously we’re whispering whenever we talk here]

Johnny: [using his fingers and his spit to try and clean this as best he can while she’s saying it because such a boy move, we won’t talk about how he picked her up so now she’s standing and he’s crouching doing this and it’s the perfect role reversal]

Ali: [mhmm, tis not lost on us, putting our hand on his shoulder like come back here because we have to hug you lest we say something extra]

Johnny: [soz that he’s stopping and looking up at her in exactly the type of way that would make you wanna say something extra]

Ali: [biting your lip as you’re LOOKING at him like that ‘thank you’ which could not sound more sincere especially as you’re having to whisper, doubt that’s what you were originally going to say but you mean it nonetheless]

Johnny: [shrugging it off literally as he gets back up ‘get yourself inside’ an almost exact repetition of what he said before but we can all tell he means it more this time]

Ali: [‘goodnight’ putting your hand back on his shoulder briefly before taking it away like okay, it’s real this time, we are of course not going in the front door and are hopping the fence to go get in our window that we always leave open because just that sort of bitch, excuse us]

Johnny: [you get on your bike and go, sir, again I hope it’s not loud af when you drive off so you’re waking peeps up but at least if you do then you haven’t been caught being feral, absolutely love that he’s gonna get all the way home only to end up coming back to get her bike when he can’t sleep or do anything else]

Ali: [there is nothing sneaky about a motorbike but you live in an area where people shouldn’t be curtain twitching for every vehicle they hear, if they are, you already got a show when we got here so goodbye lmao, we love it, ‘cos clearly not sleeping either but are writing songs that are just the most indecent]

Johnny: [he will sneak when he comes back, I imagine bringing a car with some kind of trailer on the back he can throw this bike on or a truck he can throw it into, because he clearly doesn’t trust it to get him home even if it’s in perfect condition cos it’s not his and he’s never ridden it before so, will look like you’re stealing it cos you are, again look away neighbours because I’m sure it’s the AM by then and probably light cos barely summer still]

Ali: [at least no one likes this fam so no one would tell them if their shit was getting stolen lmao, accidental perks, just gonna send you a goodnight text vibe because she would]

Ali: [send him a picture of your knees with 🩹s on]

Ali: Remember to sort your own, boy

Johnny: [especially if that girl roali tried to kill is one of their neighbours like she was in the OG, speaking of the devil, so glad Ro has been banished to her own room and is also starving herself to death so she physically can’t have the energy to wait up for Ali or else she would and nobody needs that]

Johnny: [re this goodnight text though imma say he doesn’t reply but there’s progress in the fact she can see he’s read it and he isn’t ignoring her like he did before]

Ali: [where to next, that’s the question baby]

Johnny: [we should do him giving her the bike back because realistically I feel like if he doesn’t sleep and just works through on it he could have it done the next time she appears on site if she’s showing up some time the next day/evening/night after getting some sleep and whatever herself cos he’s only making it better we’re not saying it was dogshit, Ali would’ve done a lot to it already I’m sure]

Ali: [that makes sense girly pops, we would be swinging by not just for the shameless excuse to maybe see you but because we also need to check on Carly and Ronan respectively so we’ll do that]

Johnny: [my thoughts exactly, they do need checking on at whatever o clock she brings herself and she would because she cares about them both, you’re gonna have to let her and hope you can catch her after or grab her before, boy, and I don’t know which is better, maybe before so Carly and Ronan mind their business?]

Ali: [we’ll do before, why not]

Johnny: [you’re lucky Ali be knowing things and is gonna know it’s you instead of screaming the place down and fighting for her life thinking she’s getting snatched cos he will literally be grabbing her before she reaches whoever she was intending to visit first and dragging her to wherever he’s been working on this bike]

Ali: [lmao imagine, falling at the first hurdle there by letting everyone know, not saying we were expecting exactly this scenario but we were assuming we’d get to see you so it’s okay, can keep our chill in that way, even if we’re shooketh over this and asking you all the questions like when you came back and how did you take it because we were still up obviously, just here inspecting all your work in the way you’d only know how if you also knew how to fix things up]

Johnny: [when you’re just hardcore downplaying the fact you have not slept and worked all night/day on this like yeah I didn’t sleep nbd I’ll bury that and the whys and all my feelings in answering all your questions and being a nerd about mechanics and showing off everything I did though, we need to take a sec to appreciate, even though Ali hasn’t yet because she’s busy admiring this bike, that he’d be all dirty and covered in oil and the like, so he’s looking hot rn despite or also because of the lack of sleep]

Ali: [we’re trying not to check you out because we know we have to be on our best behaviour when we’re anywhere near the site or anyone else but you know it has not escaped our notice, how’d we get here in the first place huns ‘it even matches my push bike’ whether we mean the same colour or complimenting, saying it because I can and she’d always be biking over here so you would know ‘I owe you like, SO many hours work’ with a cheeky smile ‘cos we know you’re going to be like I don’t want a girl’s help but you’d also never take cash so what are you gonna do]

Johnny: [‘I know’ cos of course he’s watched her biking about everywhere on that push bike, said in a tone that’s like and I also know that’s the kind of shit girls care about, cos we LOVE to acknowledge she’s a girl especially in moments like this where we feel like she’s trying to be one of the lads, cos obvs he also knew she was gonna say what she said next, looking her over head to toe though she’s bound to be wearing slightly more clothes than last night who’s to say which scrapes etc are covered and which aren’t, your knees in particular could deffo still be out cos it’s still summer hols for a few more days, but even if they are not, staring at where he knows the plasters are from the pics, like, she’s gotta heal up first before she’s kneeling on the ground again, didn’t just wanna remind her of it all cos he’s been thinking of it non-stop, nope]

Ali: [‘that I have excellent taste’ with a grin because we’re not going to deny that we love to rock a look in all areas of our life, this included, just tell him how you’re going to respray and modify the helmet you have to match too, part because of course you are and also to be like see, I know about safety lol lol, whilst we’re also staring at our knees and going red from the reminder you also didn’t need because it hasn’t left your head either ‘put me to work when you want, yeah?’ like it’s completely casual]

Johnny: [shaking your head at her, partly about the good taste comment and partly because you’ve never worn a helmet a day in your life so it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind she would have one, pushing your own hair out of your face with a big breath as if you’re going hmmm as you say ‘what about your hair?’ taking the piss like she’s that girl haha, but really you just want an excuse to touch her when you then come over and totally mess her hair up, again like she did to you last night cos the reminders gotta keep coming, love that you’re then standing close enough you can more or less whisper ‘I’ll put you to work how I want’ and nobody else will hear how indecent it is]

Ali: [giving him a little shove like how dare you question my taste/deny its existence, which has you falling back closer for him to mess up your hair which obviously you have to return the favour, even though he’s already a hot mess so you’re just PULLING his hair about all this tbh ‘do it’ like you’re just challenging him to further this playfight and it’s all very platonic and you’re not !! and covering the mini shiver you just did over this]

Johnny: [when you stop her pulling your hair by GRABBING both her wrists in just the hottest move ever, it’s so casual and nbd and platonic, we’re not LOOKING at each other and breathing insanely and being !!, there’s nothing to see here]

Ali: [the effort it is taking not to try and kiss him is the realest and cannot be overstated how plain that would be to him when he’s THAT in your grill right now ‘Johnny’ like the slight whine to your voice is maybe because this is hurting and no other reason]

Johnny: [in my head this is like a patch of scrubby wasteland next to where his caravan is and on it there’s like an old one that needs to be either done up or junked as well as like old cars and bikes he’s working on, you know the vibe, so do let her go but push her towards it like get in, a dangerous game because I’m sure lots of your brothers and cousins help you fix stuff and also the younger ones play in all the junk but we’re doing it anyway because as I’ve said many a time there is no chill or self control around this gal]

Ali: [I can see it and is v much what I was picturing also so go us being on the same page there, obviously we are doing this because clearly no one is right here right now witnessing this blatant vibe and you can foolishly believe if you get to be in private you might deal with this tension some and be able to go back out and chill, of course we’re doing the thing where you walk backwards so you don’t take your eyes off this boy, for the vulnerability and also because you simply do not want to]

Johnny: [we’re in sync about this cos it tracks, as does him being on the end/edge of this site because he’s antisocial and as the oldest boy he’d want space from all the annoying younger kids that are always running about everywhere, likewise don’t take your eyes off this gal and don’t say a word til you’re both inside and have at least the illusion of privacy, then he says ‘this is our place’ in the same way he said you’re with me, no discussion, just like, this is our designated meeting spot now, whether that’s because they NEED to hook up on site or because she needs to talk to him about something IRL and can therefore wait for him here]

Ali: [nodding as you’re allowing yourself to look around for this moment because that is a good idea and you need somewhere like that and you love the fact he’s the one that suggested it, taking the few steps I’m sure there is between you towards him, putting your hands on either side of his face again, wiping at a bit of oil/dirt with no real intention to actually remove it ‘I love it’ whether you mean the spot or the bike or, as we know, all of the above and then some]

Johnny: [kiss her very dramatically, we can pretend it’s purely because you’re shutting her up how you do but really you just want to and in this boy’s head because he hasn’t been to sleep this all counts as the same day so he doesn’t have to start feeling bad about any of this or trying to stop yet so making the most of that]

Ali: [kissing you in what can only be described as a passionate way because it isn’t the feral of the night before but it’s still very intense and hard, just not as frantic, still losing our hands in your hair, scratching lightly down your neck with our nails, only allowing ourself to make the tiniest noises along with our slightly breathless vibe]

Johnny: [that’s exactly right my boo, you’ve nailed it, the entire vibe I was picturing, we’re so twin and big brained today, his hands are at her waist but then travelling up under whatever top she is blessing him with, exposing her stomach as he touches it, but there’s no feral bruising manner to this for once]

Ali: [finding a seat of some kind instinctively, even if it’s slightly busted or not a proper seat so you can gently pull him down with you because you wanna be curled up into him right now, tickling him with the lightest kisses you’re putting all over his face and neck ‘I missed you’]

Johnny: [the kind of get away vibes you do when you’re being tickled, not like a full playfight, just swatting her away quite softly, not even enough that y’all are gonna fall from this precarious perch because don’t really want her to stop ‘you said you’d’ because she did say she would miss him last night and that lives in his head rent free along with everything else]

Ali: [just doing some more fast and furious like you gotta before he actually gets you off of him, doing a little lol, at least there’d be no makeup today so you aren’t going to be a state from that, either of y’all ‘I didn’t wanna shower’ making a face like I know, you’re glad I did, don’t need to say it lol ‘made you feel further away though’ pulling up one of his arms so you can sneak under it and be that close and covered by him]

Johnny: [when she’s got snuggled under his arm and after a minute is being too adorable for this boy to bear, doing a kind of playfighty move to really trap her and squish her head into his armpit because this boy has not showered and is SO gross, except he’s not we all LOVE it]

Ali: [you know she’s gotta lick it because if you’re trying to gross us out you are gonna fail and we gotta let you know in the cheekiest way possible lol]

Johnny: [please lol so you don’t say or do something very extra about it, you’re sleep deprived to the point of feeling drunk again we can’t trust you sir]

Ali: [free yourself hun, at least vaguely, so it’s less blatant how 😍 you are unrepentantly ‘you think I’m weird’ half a statement half a question really, as you’re running your hands under whatever top he has on]

Johnny: [‘you’re not like no other girls ‘round here or nowhere we’ve been, I don’t know what I think’ btw my brain can’t not picture a cliche white vest absolutely covered in oil and scut, it’s been conditioned by the media]

Ali: [the hardest of sames lmao, soz not soz, you probably are and it’s definitely a vibe ‘it’s the trauma’ like it’s all bants and that isn’t slightly true but also the only thing you can think to say ‘I like you too’ and kissing him before he can to shut you up about it]

Johnny: [managing to get out before her shut up kiss ‘they’ve all got themselves some of that’ like it’s bants that every girl y’all’s age is traumatised by something and not just sad and true, but then just going with kissing her back, still not frantic af like last night but with some urgency because of these emotions]

Ali: [just lose yourself again in making out and the fact you can and no one is looking for y’all or bothering you because it’s the weekend and you didn’t announce your arrival like hi welfare check time ‘I can’t stop thinking about it’ between said kisses with no intention of stopping]

Johnny: [really losing himself in this makeout sesh too, to the point they’re now lying somewhere whether that’s the floor or on their makeshift seat from before or whatever ‘it’s for thinking about’ in the same way he said that it should be between 2 people, this boy is the anti-Moses and he thinks this stuff matters]

Ali: [making a noise like oh good against his lips because we’re amused but also think you are so cute ‘you couldn’t stop me if you wanted to’ because we can feel it isn’t always going to be this easy to see you but thinking about it is something that can’t be taken away]

Johnny: [tutting into her mouth like he’s done before as though he massively disapproves of this, but the ensuing lil on the floor playfight is the softest it has ever been and he’s smiling through it]

Ali: [you know we’re letting you pin us so quick because we shamelessly want it right now, reaching out and running a finger across his smiley lips]

Johnny: [‘god, you’re so small, but there’s that much of you’ small has the same energy as little girl, because of course, and the way he’s looking at her when he literally is saying she’s big in all the important ways, like smart and sassy and saucy and we could go on and write an essay, it’s fine]

Ali: [when biting your lip isn’t completely stopping the little moan you have to make as you’re here squirming underneath his body and his gaze because what a line, we’re not okay]

Johnny: [‘what are we to do?’ cos yesterday when they were having their convo before any IRL shit happened she was like we can try and you can hate me after and he was like what are we to do if I like you instead and he likes her SO much rn, as well as everything she’s doing, deliberately doing the most himself with how he’s moving because her answer then was we do it again til we can’t and it’s the answer now too]

Ali: [nodding like exactly, you remember, failing to act like you’re not !! at that basic confirmation that he does like you too, the silent gasp as you’re shifting to meet him leaving your mouth open ‘this is our place’ repeating this like this is all we need is this because really, there isn’t much more to it, just avoiding people and being a bit more careful than Moses could bother to be]

Johnny: [the temptation to be evil and have one of these little kids kick a ball at the window or something and kick start his paranoia is too real though, but I won’t do it literally just as she’s said that because it’s very on the nose and I do want y’all to think this is your safe space and get more in your feels than you already are before I’m rude and introduce a realistic cockblock, so for now boy start taking off her clothes, taking a sec to be !! when you take off her top and see all of last night’s damage revealed vividly again, so obvs he has to be kissing and touching all of it, rougher than could be called caring or kissing better lol]

Ali: [that is a realistic cockblock and we must let it happen but we’ll let you have your moment and get more into this before we do it for more impact, for now we’re here loving life and enjoying exactly how rough you’re being ‘more’ whether we mean more lovebites or do more than just touch and kiss us, unclear but both, lbr]

Johnny: [taking it as both because he’s giving her an extra af lovebite, probably where she gave him the lowkey row of his, but at the same time he’s also dry humping her as hard as he ever has and his hand is going under her clothes to touch her again with all the same !! as when he was last night, all the foreplay ever happening]

Ali: [being in his ear telling him everything you can’t stop thinking about in all the vivid detail you’ve still got going ‘round your head]

Johnny: [do a NOISE into her skin about how vividly she’s recalling all these deets because we love that, then decide that in the spirit of last night he’s gonna do some oral action, because I doubt that’s something you have when your whole vibe before has been meh gals I don’t like you that much, just do what I want and then go away, so give her some more lovebites on your way, like on her hip and thighs because gotta, but let’s say when he REALLY starts getting into it is when this cockblock occurs and he stops SO abruptly, because I like being mean]

Ali: [My boo says here on this day we’re choosing violence and I love her nasty ways, be here pulling your clothes back up with lightning speed girl, keeping your ABSOLUTE frustration and 😒 internal, hugging your knees to your chest and trying to take a moment ‘you go out, distract them if it weren’t just a stray ball, I’ll leave when the coast is clear’ ‘cos you just KNOW he ain’t going to entertain staying never mind trying to continue]

Johnny: [mhmm, speaking of violence, literally pushing/pulling her out of sight of the door he’s about to charge out of to shout at these feral children, with the kind of roughness that isn’t fun or sexy, because despite everything he thinks and almost said earlier, in the moment, he doesn’t trust her not to be another stupid Carly-esque girl, then doing his diva storm out obvs, not acknowledging she spoke or her at all other than moving her like a piece of furniture, which is nice]

Ali: [oh huns, just be here sulking in this caravan until you’re certain you can get out and look like you’re merrily on your way to Carly’s or Ronan nbd, at least you can use this hiding time to try and calm down about it and figure out what you’re going to say to him]

Johnny: [the way he’s gonna be ignoring her so hard again now, at least you can go to bed though, boy, it’ll take you ages to fall asleep with all this in your head no doubt but you’d be exhausted so you eventually will]

Ali: [we know it’s coming but we’re at least going to feel justified in trying harder to make you talk to us this time so it can’t drag on for another month or whatever lol but as you have shit to do here today, you can leave him alone now ‘cos you also know nothing productive will be achieved atm]

Johnny: [mhmm, he’s got sleeping to do and then work in the AM to keep himself busy, moreso than usual because the others are gonna have to do Moses’ share for a minute because it cannot be overstated how hardcore Johnny beat him up for Ronan’s sake]

Ali: [I say I’m sorry you’re not deserving of a welfare check sir but you did that all yourself]

Johnny: [do you wanna post this and go on to who Ali is welfare checking?]

Ali: [That probably makes sense, yep]

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starbuck · 3 years

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#black sails #eleanor guthrie #anne bonny #bs max #billy bones #and #john silver #who is all the yellow text lol - i gave him his own text color!#what is the point of this gifset? i'm not entirely sure #i think my main point is to illustrate how the last two are hybrid parallels of both 'chose' and 'live with it'#which are Their Own Things kind of but were always Related #just went into my s4 notes where i brainstormed this set and my commentary was 'it makes sense to me. the Vibes are there' so like. Helpful #like i said i've been vaguely planning it since the rewatch previous that i did a year ago #but what Really made me think of it (apparently - according to my notes) was in 4x02 when Max says #'This will all pass soon enough if we let it.' which is obviously a parallel to Silver's 'Guilt is natural but it also goes...#...away if you let it.' from 1x05 #which is the same conversation that the second gif in this set comes from #which is particularly interesting in the context of something i hadn't noticed until the rewatch i'm doing currently #in that (per the first gif here) Silver actually stole that phrase FROM Eleanor #of course the context is very different since at that point Eleanor just thought Max had left Nassau #but the reason it's particularly relevant to all of this is that as she says the very first iteration of this phrase who is sitting in #her office but Silver and Billy... i am Just Saying #(i may or may not have had a slight Freak Out about this that i had to suppress in favor of telling you this way but lol)#OH AND ANNE IS ALSO HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!#hers aren't particularly related to the others in a direct sense but it's all just one thematic Thing ya know??#god i hope this makes sense to people other than me #and i'm sorry if these tags don't really clarify anything... i guess that's one of the reasons i'd been holding off making this #it's just. a Vibe. idk what else to say #make of it what you will

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

title. “it’s armani, not polyester.” | m

pairings. ceo!jimin x secretary!reader x ex-boyfriend!director!jeongguk

inspired by. conan grey’s heather.

genre. e2f - f2l , office romance, sugar daddy-baby-esque.

words. 10.6k

warnings. explicit content (obviously). mentions of alcohol use.

concept. a retelling of conan grey’s heather in its future days.

story time.

“that’s your ex?” wendy blinks once before proceeding to openly ogle the - as per jennie’s excited text - ‘tall and handsome as hell cutie’ who’s in the middle of speaking to irene who seems to be sporting a larger-than-her-daily smile as her body moves as she nods and laughs and nods again, “i mean - i was expecting some hobo looking guy with spectacles bigger than his head and snot running down his face.”

with a cringe, you shoot her a much needed side eye, “okay first off - ew,” throwing your gaze back at jeongguk, “second off, we only dated for like three months before everyone started sleeping with everybody.”

“like orgies and shits?” this time, it’s her turn to cringe.

“no,” you roll your eyes, “i mean we had our first fight, he slept with my best friend so i slept with his brother who was dating that best friend.”

“oh,” you can almost feel the way her eyes shift from you ex to you as you continue to type on the computer, “guess no more family dinners.”

“it gets better,” you feel a creep up your face as you turn to meet her wide eyed gaze, “me and his brother got into the same college and we decided to stay friends and now his mom knows me as taehyung’s best friend instead of her second child’s ex-girlfriend.”

by the end of it, wendy’s jaw is quite literally on the floor, missing her chance to greet the cutie who’s obviously led here by irene. standing up, you fix the man who seems to have turned into ice, “thank you, irene, i’ll take it from here,” without even missing a beat you give jeongguk a once over, admitting his worth of the nickname he’ll soon forth be known as in the office, “mr. jeon, mr. park is thrilled to meet you.”

jimin didn’t exactly say that - he only yawned when you briefed him about the interview with the possible new tech guy before dozing off in the passenger seat for the rest of the ride.

“you work here?” thawed from his initial shock, jeongguk hurriedly tries to catch up to you when he sees you walking towards the double doors of your boss’ office which is just twenty feet away.

“oh no, i just deliver pizza and happen to know where the ceo’s office is,” and that marks your second eyeroll for the day to which jeongguk’s lips tuck into a blatant sneer.

before he even finished his “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed”, you’re already knocking twice on the door before strutting into the room where jimin’s face lights up at the sight of you before returning to its unsmiling state when his eyes lands on something over your shoulder.

“mr. park, mr. jeon is here for the interview for the management information systems director position,” you hand him the ipad with jeongguk’s resume opened and ready for inspection.

jeongguk pretends not to see your feigned smile as you pass him but before you manage to exit the room, a voice stops you, “oh, miss ____, do you mind telling irene to make me an extra strong coffee?”

“i can make that, mr. park,” you announce, eyebrows threatening to weave themselves together at the peculiar order.

jimin only chuckles, “miss ____, you and i’s definition of extra strong is vastly different,” but before you can debunk it, he’s already complementing his insult with a praise, “you make the nicest chamomile tea though.”

all while jeon jeongguk stands in the middle of the way yet he’s the last thing you see and probably the last thing jimin notices.

“that’s fair,” with a nod and an amused smile, you leave through the door, knowing full well jeongguk is more than able to distinguish between what’s a facade and what’s not.

and he may very well be the first to call bullshit on your too respectful interactions with your boss.

jeongguk gets the position. naturally, he would - he graduated at the top of his class, became valedictorian, dished out an inspiring speech to which taehyung showed you a video of when you were having your trimonthly meet up a year a ago.

he was a cutie with brains and brawn. his department sucked him in as their new director and colleague in no time. the news of the new tall and handsome as hell cutie who apparently looks better than most people in suit has spread to every other department with wendy and irene liasing between the rumors - considering the fact that they take the ‘first interaction’ privilege.

perks of being part of jimin’s secretary trio, you suppose.

the aforementioned man peeks up at you with a smirk, his leather black salvator snaking up the side of your black mesh pantyhose as you stand in front of him and just until five seconds ago, were briefing him about his meeting with the representative of the manufacturing company for the new chip.

“miss jisoo will be here in two hours and she’ll be discussing the direct materials cost, direct labor cost and manufacturing overhead - that’s where i’ll need you to pay attention because maque it is known for their concrete bargains but exceptional product outcome.” you inform.

“mr. park,” his eyes snap to yours, “my eyes are up here.”

you’re not sure what he sees, but it may or may not have something to do with your unyielding force but flirtatious tone - either way, he lets out a surrendered chuckle.

“i got it - bargain, get the cheapest overall cost but the best production,” he says before guiding your hand that’s under his chin to his mouth, taking your pinky finger between his pearly whites.

“good, call me if you need anything else,” you nod in approval, lips curling into a satisfied smile before summoning your hand back to your side.

the sound of your heels reverberate against the walls as you make your way to the doors but before you manage to step one foot out, he’s calling out for you, “____,” voice unsettlingly calm but his words couldn’t have been any more overbearing, “i expect the same amount of dedication for your... other line of work.”

you would have let that smile tuck into a knowing smirk, would have given him something to look forward to - enough to keep him on his toes for the rest of the day but not enough to be a distraction to his tasks. if not for the sight of a flock of wavy black hair and darkest brown eyes.

“mr. jeon,” your voice may have rose a pitch higher but you’ve managed to school it into a pleasant smile, “how may i help you?”

jeongguk’s eyebrows falter just the slightest bit as a flash of confusion mixed with suspicion crosses his face before he plainly says, “i have something to discuss with the ceo about my work.”

“i’m not sure how things work at your previous company but you need to schedule a meeting with mr. park before anything else but i’ll be glad to navigate you through your scope of duty since mr. park will redirect me to you anyway,” you say simply, noticing how the man’s eyes flit towards the tinted grey glass with three horizontal parallel line down the middle where one can distortedly see jimin’s body turned towards the glass the way it had been when you last saw him.

clearly, he’s watching this unfold through the same see through space.

“it’ll just take a sec - i promise,” jeongguk sounds halfway annoyed with your insistence.

when he takes a step to the side, you take another to the same side, “mr. jeon, this kind of behavior - and on your first day, at that - isn’t something you need on your record and i didn’t make that policy, it was mr. park,” with a the slightest tilt of your head, you let the smile turn into a snide one, “and since you’ve been going around chatting with your new coworkers, you should know a thing or two about how seriously mr. park values one’s descipline during work.”

he shoots you one last pondering look, tongue forming a gentle protrusion in his left cheek like he’d unconsciously do when he’s debating to do the opposite of what he’s told by first agreeing and then finding another way to get what he wants.

“fine,” his shoulder line jolts as he shrugs, hands shoved into his pocket as a strand of hair falls over his forehead, “i need a list of names of the people in my department as well as the last twenty year’s worth of projects held by the company.”

the smile you have on threatens to split into a disgruntled sneer at his ridiculous demand. ten years is the maximum amount of time someone would take to review and understand the workings of the company. fifteen is a stretch because there’s a chance of a change of policy. but a record of the past ten years means you’ll have to do some digging in the storage room since not all files were digitalized and being the new director of the IT department, jeon jeongguk is not oblivious to that very fact.

“i’ll have them on your desk by thursday,” you announce and he reiterates, “i need them by tomorrow.”

and that’s the last straw for you - letting out a sound between a scoff and a snide laughter, you place your hand on your hip, “huh, are you crazy?”

“i mean, as the new director, i need to learn the ropes of the company asap, no? don’t tell me you can’t even do that?” a smile creeps up jeongguk’s face, one that mimics that of a predator who’s caught his prey walking straight into his trap, “and all that talk about discipline.”

the contemptuous chuckle at the end is what boils the blood in your veins and before you know it, you’re spouting out words that you instantaneously regret as soon as they come out.

“of course, i’ll have them on your desk by tomorrow.”

“achoo!”

you curse underneath your breath as you sniffle from the remnants of the sneeze. fourty-three minutes in and you’re already on your nth sneezing fit. index finger flitting across the labels on the box, it takes you three nose scrunching and five boxes down the shelf to find a light blue label with ‘1998′ written next to a ‘september’.

well, that’s the second month of the year 1998 that you’ve managed to locate. the process repeats itself for a good twelve more minutes before you hear the screech of the in-need-of-oiling door and the echo of footsteps against the quiet walls before a tall, black haired figure steps into your periphery.

he’s looking as fresh and crisp as the tie hanging around his neck while you’re pretty sure your updo hair is halfway to giving out to gravity with how you’ve been moving boxes of files around.

“so what are we looking for?” jeongguk begins unnervingly calmly.

but you’re not one to turn down a hand, “anything blue with a label of 1990 up till 2010 - oh and they come in months.”

instead of complaining or at least making his displeasure known, the man simply starts searching the shelves five feet apart from you.

and so it goes, your file searching journey with your ex slash newly appointed coworker. multiple scenarios rushed through your head when you first heard jimin’s excellent review after jeongguk left. the elder man had been typing away on his mac when you’d come to pick up the empty mugs of coffee when he’d passingly say, “you know, there’s something about him that the other candidates lack - where’d you find this guy?”

but you never thought that being stuck in the files room alone would ever come up with this outcome-

“i heard you were the one who recommended me,” that voice of his is as sweet as the first drop of nectar but instead of the boyish tint, it’s tinged with a taste of wine and masculinity.

it’s familiar yet foreign all at once.

“then you must know all three secretaries were required to pick someone to recommend the job for,” with that, you twirl on your heels, a partially full box in your hand as you strut towards the desk where its blue shaded comrades awaits.

“so i’ve been told,” and that’s how you know jeongguk’s initial casual nature was just a facade to conceal his guilt-ridden conscience, “why didn’t you tell me? you didn’t even sign your name in the email - you never mentioned anything -”

“it’s nothing personal, guk,” you cut him off, back on him you pretend to rummage through each individual file of the recent box you’d found, “we needed a new IT director and you fit the criteria but if i gave out any indication that i was the one who reached out to you, your decisions might be affected by that - even just the slightest bit and that’s the last thing i want,” you say simply, “not to mention we pay better - so you get it, right?”

when you twirl around to face him, arms crossed over you chest, ass leaned up against the desk whilst your left knee slants to rest over its right counterpart, you finally meet the man’s curious doe eyes. they’re marred with the signs of life but still as exuberant and beautiful as the first day he stopped you in the hallway. his smiles are more expensive now and he doesn’t shyly look down before talking to you but he’s still the same high school heartthrob you’d had the fattest crush on.

and that’s the thing about high school and the matters of the heart - they’re meant to stay in the past as a fond yet foolish reminder of the things you would do when you were 16.

“i can’t have my guy prancing around the office like an uncivilized raccoon and ji- mr. park is extremely particular about time,” you sigh, throwing your gaze to your blood red soles if only because you can’t hold his gaze longer than this, “trust me, i don’t do things to inconvenience you just because i should have some kind of personal vendetta against you - i don’t.”

“wonder why i have been getting the opposite vibe from you ever since i came,” his shoulder line jolts slightly as he shrugs, eyes rolling but the tiniest smile on his face tells you that it’s all a good natured jest.

“i’m sorry - every time i look at you, it feels like i went back to being that high school girl who lashed out at everyone and everything,” it’s the way his eyes sparkle like stars at your words that drives you to quickly add, “my therapist told me to take a step back every time i feel like saying something mean to you because it’s just my own defense mechanism - i’m still working on it.”

“oh,” is all he says before a blanket of silence wraps around the both of you. it goes on for the longest moment with jeongguk’s unfocused yet heavy gaze on you.

he does that - staring off at something when he’s processing information and knowing his ex-girlfriend who he cheated on now goes to therapy, isn’t something one hears everyday.

“well, let’s get these,” you light tap the box on your left, “to your office - i’ll have the intern pick the rest later.”

“oh-” almost as though snapped from a daze, jeongguk blinks. one. twice. until he’s rushing to your side to get at least two boxes, one piled on top of the other, in each arm while you choose to only carry two.

when he finally finds his words, the first thing he says it -“you don’t have to get me all 20 years of record - 10 is enough and if you walk me through how things work, i’d be really grateful.”

you scoff, a smile on your lips before he mimics yours, “are you like, concerned about me cause i told you i’m seeing therapist -”

“me? concerned? about you?” his body moves along with his eye roll but his tone lacks the sarcasm he’s intending, “not in a thousand years.”

jeongguk is concerned. he tips toes around you like you’re the thinly veiled ice over a lake of emotions. as though one wrong move and you’ll break. and that’s how you know you’re not the only one who’s changed and grown with the years you spent apart.

the jeon jeongguk you knew couldn’t care less if you’d fallen into the darkest depth of your ruins - only because you’d hurt him just as much.

though you haven’t got to the point of having lunch together like wendy and irene and the entire team from his department had, you’ve had moments in between coming back from lunch with jimin and just before lunch hour is up where you’re in the pantry with ice cream in your hand and your phone in the other.

while you’re sure no one would be coming around this time of the day, jeon jeongguk finds away to surprise you with his sudden appearance. strutting in as if he doesn’t notice you, picking up the instant coffee packet only to place one newly stirred coffee cup between you and him as he sips his own that he made with the one he’s apparently gifting you.

“why?” you narrow your eyes at him, suspicion filling every inch of your curled lips.

“oh you know,” his shoulder line shrugs and you realize he’s grown a few inches taller because his shoulder fully past your head, “cause i heard you like your coffees with cream too.”

“how do i know it’s not poisoned?” still dubious, you keep your eyes on him like a hawk - nothing can get past you, not even a nervous gulp.

but instead, he throws his head back, sighing, “___, you literally saw me make them.”

“i don’t know, you’re acting kinda sus, guk,” you insist, phone screen long dead as you take one last bite of the ice cream before tossing the stick into the trashcan.

“sus? me?” his free hand comes flying up to his chest as he looks at you in disbelief.

“give me yours,” you finally announce, hand struck out with your palm facing upwards.

“whatever, idiot,” he shakes his head still, despite failing to hide the tiniest smile that begins to tuck on the corners of his lips before placing the cup he’s been holding on your awaiting hand.

“yay,” you grin, delighted before taking one long sip and breathing out in satisfaction, “i live another day.”

and so it goes, the light banters between moments in time. luckily for you, jeongguk is all round charmer that makes anyone and everyone - men, women and non-bonarys alike - who’s talking to him smile from ear to ear from something he says. possibly a compliment, possibly an agreement to what the other party was saying.

nobody suspected that either of you knew each other prior to this and that’s one less office rumor to look out for. you offer to help jeongguk settle in, murmuring names of the people who greets him so that he’d greet back with their informed name, seeing their faces light up a bit more at the realization that their new boss’s recognition.

“aren’t you with park 24/7? how do you know everyone in this company?” he asks one fine morning after you both got to his desk.

“i’d say it’s talent but i basically had to memorize them overnight right after i joined,” you shrug, “it wasn’t easy but you realize the difference it makes in everyone’s performance when they think their boss knows who they are.”

“so that’s the kind of person park is,” jeongguk nods whilst clicking on the ‘transfer files’ option on the screen of his computer.

“mr. park isn’t like the devil boss from hell - he’s just really self-disciplined,” you correct.

“if he was then why did he make you memorize the names of his employees?” he shoots you a look, one that says ‘you know i’m right’ to which you only roll your eyes.

“the same reason why he needs three secretaries to do his bidding - he’s too busy,” you shoot him a ‘no, you’re not’ look before sticking out your hand after the files are finish being transferred.

“how come i only get one?” his eyebrows knit together in a mixture of dissatisfaction and confusion as he places the usb drive into your hand, not quite showing any signs to take his own hand off just yet.

“maybe ‘cause you’re not that important?” you shoot him a similar ‘you know i’m right’ kind of manner and before he can even say anything, you’re curling your hand over the drive before twirling on your heels.

“ouch, you know that kinda hurts,” a voice comes up behind you and almost like a tidal wave, your apology comes in a second too soon, “really? sorry, i went too far-”

before you can even finish your words, you’re left rooted in your spot. a few feet away from the glass encased room where most of the executives and their secretaries are seen stepping in.

it’s the chuckle that reverberates against your eardrums that washes away your initial guilt like sand on shore, “you’re so-” jeongguk pauses, staring at you with eyes you can’t quite decipher and a flash of emotion you have never seen him make, “you’re so soft, you know that?”

“that wasn’t funny, jeongguk,” you fix him a hard stare, arms crossing over your chest.

“sorry - what i meant is,” and that’s the thing about the two of you - ever since you’d admitted your faults, jeongguk has followed your lead to apologize first. pride seems to be the last thing standing between the two of you at the moment - and it’s times like these, where you’re willing to listen and he’s willing to explain, that you think you might just escape that dark dwelling you call your past.

“miss ___,” a familiar voice drums in your ears, a hand on your lower back pulling your attention from the man in front of you to the attractive devil that’s on your side. the infernal spark in those dark eyes of his disappears as soon as he turns to - “jeongguk, i take it miss ____ has been a great help with the presentation you’re about to show us?”

“yes,” the aforementioned man nods, a look of unadulterated confidence making its way to his face as it replaced the lingering stare where jimin’s arm disappeared behind you, “i couldn’t have finished it this fast without ___.”

at jeongguk’s words, jimin lets a smile slip onto his strong features, making him look less like the unapproachable man he’s known for, “i’m looking forward to it.”

it’s only after jeongguk is walking a few steps ahead towards the open doors of the meeting room and jimin’s hand has long left your body, does the man murmur under his breath, “i’ve received applications for jeongguk’s secretary position, do you mind looking through them for me? though... i left them at my place - if you could come up with me to pick them later after work, it’d be great.”

“really?” you quickly say, before realizing it’d come off too excited for a request of overtime so you clear your throat, looking around the vicinity to see if anyone noticed, “i mean, yes, i can do that - i can drop by for a few minutes.”

“perfect,” his eyes disappears into crescents as the corners of his lips tuck higher before you part ways - him taking the seat at the end of the oval table while you head over to the computers connected to the projector, shoving the drive you’ve had trapped in your hand into its port.

“i’ve heard some things,” jimin’s honey voice is barely the subject of your conscience as you watch his lithe fingers working around the buckle of his belt until one end hangs loose before he pulls on the other, the sound of leather against fabric cutting the air like knife.

after jeongguk’s presentation which was met with praises and positive responses by the board, jimin had easily approved of the proposed updates on the - as the first would call it - a tad bit out dated data base. when the wendy, irene and the rest of his team was about to head out for dinner to celebrate their well earned success, you’d belatedly told them that you couldn’t make it because you had to drive jimin home.

seeing as it was a norm for the head secretary to also take on the role of the ceo’s chauffer, nobody questioned it.

nobody but the latest addition to the company.

jeongguk looked like he wanted to say something, stared at you a little longer as you fixed him and the rest of your leaving coworkers a ‘have fun, guys!’ kind of wave. but you suppose that could wait.

“i didn’t think you’d be one to pay attention to rumors,” you manage to say, swallowing heavily as you tear your gaze from jimin’s apt hands that are looping the belt into its buckle.

“this one’s a little bit interesting,” the chuckle he lets out is sinfully innocent compared to the way he slips the looped belt through your head and pulls on it, forcing the leather material to envelop your neck like a collar, “something about you and jeon having a special relationship.”

“that’s-” the words gets stuck in your throat when your heart leaps up at the slightest tuck on your neck, almost as if he’s saying to ‘choose your words carefully, dove.’

“it’s a matter of the distant past,” you say, sending a grateful prayer to the gods for allowing your voice to sound unbothered.

“didn’t seem like what the rumors are saying,” his breath fans your face as he whispers against your ear - you have to clench your fists together to stop the shivers from wracking through your body, “but that’s alright - at the end of the day, it’s my name you’re screaming.”

a moan escapes your mouth when a pair of plump lips press against yours. sparks in your veins and passion in your heart. before you know it, you’re blindly grasping onto the zipper of of jimin’s trousers, salivating at the thought of a part of him you know too well.

“please, daddy, let me suck your dick,” you plea, eyebrows knitting together with a sort of yearning and frustration from how achingly patient the striking blonde man in front of you is.

if it were up to him, you’d be soaking up the carpeted floor with your arousal throughout the night and he’d still manage to edge you on until you’re begging to come.

but that’s the thing, either way, you’re going to be begging for him. and you’d learned earlier on that you gain less from holding onto your pride than holding onto jimin’s dick.

with your mouth, that is.

it’s the morning after that - that you curse yourself for not putting any restraints to your carnal desires. in your defense though, begging and pleading jimin to push you to your limits seemed like an irresistible option at the time. that is, until you’re digging out what clothes you have in the drawer in your allocated room only to find most of them catering to the neck-to-just-above-the-cleavage-reveal kind of look.

so you opt for scarves - the bruises aren’t bad but the first days are always the hardest. and jimin notices the way you’re craning your neck from side to side as you keep your eyes trained on the red light that’s about to turn green anytime soon.

“does it hurt?” the saccharine sweet voice drips with honeyed concern whilst his hand goes to massage the back of your neck.

you hum in appreciation, “that feels good.”

“maybe i should’ve been gentler,” the tinge of remorse in his voice doesn’t go past you.

“that’s not even where it hurts most,” you giggle, feeling the familiar tingle in between your legs but you manage to push it to the back of your mind as you say, “but you know i like it when you’re rough.”

jimin only laughs, head shaking at your blatant confession. and so the mini massage session continues until the car starts rolling into motion. you go on with your morning routine of reminding him of the list of things he’ll have to do and people to meet for the day.

it’s only after you’ve parked the car and turning off the ignition that your phone dings with a notification of a ‘you received 50, 000 dollars from park jimin’.

squealing, you hop out of the car, heels click clacking against the concrete as you mini run towards the blond who’d slipped out of the car a second earlier.

“thank you, daddy!” you grin, hands wrapping around his arm as he chuckles softly, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

“i booked you a session at lotus nirvana for the weekend,” he says a minute later as you stand in front of the elevator.

“oh my god,” you gasp, jaw hitting the floor, “the lotus? really?”

“and you can bring a plus one,” he boops your nose with his index finger, making you scrunch it because of the ticklish feeling it leaves.

“you’re the best!” you stand on your tip toes, placing a kiss on his cheekbone just before the elevator stops one level below the ceo and chairman’s parking level, revealing none other than jeongguk in a dashing cobalt blue louis vouitton suit.

you’ve managed to detach yourself from the now-unsmiling ceo who shoots the newcomer a brief smile as a greeting when jeongguk takes longer to look between you and his boss before finally stepping in.

“morning,” you greet with a wave, hoping to brush off the elephant in the room.

the man echoes back your words but nothing else - at least until you reach the 19th floor where jimin turns to you, hands in his pocket, “miss ___ i need to discuss something with you in my office,” just before you’re about to point out the sunken eyes in the younger man’s appearance.

“yes, mr. park,” you say in a heartbeat, before mouthing a ‘catch you later’ to the brunette.

in the next few days, you’ve opt for a variety of scarves to match your outfit. but more importantly, to hide the darkening bruises around your neck as you style your hair to hide what the scarves can’t.

it’s times like these that you keep your distance from people, choosing to stay in front of the computer unless jimin calls for you. whether to ask for if you’re up for having lunch with him, to inquire about the meeting he has or simply to just say “i miss your chamomile tea.”

at that, you can’t help but let the giggle break through your iron wall of a facade, “that’s what you called me for?”

the man’s eyes flit to the right for the briefest second, as though in search for a better answer which he finds none of before meeting your own, “yep, that’s what i called you for.”

“you’re so cute, daddy,” you gush, before placing you ipad down on the desk, hands coming up to frame around jimin’s cheeks as they turn round from the smile that slips onto his face, “i’ll make some for you tonight!” but then your shoulder line falls, eyebrows coming together, “wait - i have dinner with jeongguk tonight.”

“you mean jeon?” he raises an amused eyebrow to which you nod, hands falling away from his cheeks.

“i’ve been avoiding him these past few days and i think he’s getting a little suspicious about us spending so much time together - he thinks you’re... forcing me to do things,” you sigh - just this morning, the black haired cutie caught you in the middle of your way to your desk, pulling you to the side with a set of concerned eyebrows knitted together, “are you okay?”

you took a moment, eyes roaming around the vicinity as though it’d help spot the reason to this abrupt intervention before looking back at him, smiling cluelessly “...yeah, i’m fine.”

he let go of your arm to push his soft tresses which seemed to be missing its usual slick gelled look today, “the ladies have been saying park tends to work you to the bones every few times a month - like right now, and that’s a normal thing here?”

and because it wasn’t the kind of question you got asked often - people just accepted and were even glad that it wasn’t them that jimin was calling to his office every hour throughout the day, you had to take a moment to ponder on your answer “...yeah, it’s normal.”

“and you don’t care?” jeongguk’s blinked, mortified.

“i mean, that’s my livelihood right there so...” and you shrugged.

“i don’t know, i don’t like him,” his shoulder line tensed as he turned his body towards the wall sized window, eyes casted towards the neighboring skyscrapers.

“why?” was all you said - you’d understand intimidating. strict. unapproachable to describe the words jimin is, but no one’s ever confessed to outright disliking the man. but then again, you are the closest person to jimin in the company, no employee would risk getting fired because they blurted out their dissatisfaction towards their ceo to his head secretary.

“there’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way,” instead of shrugging like what 17-year old jeongguk would have done, this older version of him didn’t even stutter.

you suppose one’s confidence and sense of reasoning - even though there wasn’t any particular reason for him to dislike jimin-

“...something about a ceo calling his head secretary ‘miss’ while he casually address everyone else by their name but never really talk to anyone beyond business matters while nobody’s has a single bad thing to say about him,” when jeongguk’s obsidian eyes fell on you, it was as though the background faded and you found yourself trapped in a glass cage - unable to run away from the truth he seemed to possess, “especially the person he’s overworking the most.”

“well,” there’s this habit that you do - laughing in the face of crisis and this was damn well a crisis because, “if you feel that way then you feel that way.”

“is there something you want to tell me?” he pressed on, speaking under his breath, “if you need help, you can always come to me.”

and that was when the laughter broke into a fit and you’re holding your stomach and his shoulder with your other hand, “jeongguk - i’m fine, really,” there was a tremble in his eyes as self doubt crept up his conscience, which meant whatever you were doing was working, “listen, how bout we go for dinner tonight with wendy and irene? i’m late but i wanna hear how your first staff dinner went.”

you managed to escape jeongguk right after his ‘...yeah, sure’ before mrs. yoo came up to you to ask about the arrangements of the seating for the upcoming corporate dinner. it’s in five months but preparations must be made in advance.

“if he’s starting to notice that means i’m not the only whose got his eyes on you,” the sweet honeyed voice pulls you out of your memories, almond shaped eyes staring at you with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

and for some reason, you felt the need to clarify where you stand and where jeongguk stands, “we were kids when we started dating - we know better now that both of us clash like two magnets on the opposite poles if we go beyond what friends are.”

“you know i have the utmost respect for you,” butterflies set flight in your stomach when jimin guides your right hand to his lips.

the place you end up going to is called han chu where it’s most famous for its variety of chicken-based cuisine which happens to be irene’s boyfriend’s family’s long standing business. it’d been packed with people, mostly those who’d got off work like yourselves but apparently, they have a different room for adhoc visitors who popped up out of nowhere.

“irene’s taking a long time at the washroom,” wendy announces, a small, jealous pout on her lips as she sticks her chopsticks into the rice bowl before you and jeongguk exchange a knowing look with each other.

since her boyfriend works here, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room knows irene, in fact, did not go to the washroom. and wendy isn’t too secretive about her want for a man she can call her own to which, two bottles of soju later, she slams her glass against the table and confesses, “i’m so lonely, i want a boyfriend!”

by then, irene’s already back and chiding the younger woman about how she needs to stop drinking so much because apparently, at jeongguk’s congratutional dinner, she was that coworker that drank herself silly and might or might have not blurted out something about jeongguk’s exceptional proportions in front of the entire IT department.

“___! you’re single, right?” the way jeongguk’s hand seems to be take longer to pick up one of those spicy-sweet chicken even though he was gobbling them up like there was no tomorrow just five seconds ago, doesn’t go unnoticed by you, “let’s go to a mixer! i’ll text my friend to include our names for one this weekend.”

this time, the way jeongguk’s visibly tensed shoulder line is no coincidence.

“i’m good, thanks,” you chuckle, patting the woman’s shoulder.

irene on the other hand, looks increasingly worried about her fellow coworker as time passes. it’s when wendy starts to gulp down the soju straight from the bottle that you step in, swiping it out of her hands and placing it back down on the table.

“alright, that’s enough for tonight, let’s get you home” at that, you shoot irene a signal with your eyes, counting a short ‘1,2,3′ before you both hoist her up to her feet, directing her arm over your shoulder while irene does the same with the other one.

“i’ll get the car - you ladies wait at the front of the restaurant ” jeongguk announces, just as you step out of the room.

“thanks, guk,” you fix him an appreciative smile, grateful for not having to drag the half-conscious woman’s body all the way to the parking lot.

“you know, he’s been staring at you the whole night,” a voice giggles - and seeing how wendy can barely even open her eyes, that could only mean that it’s the only other woman that’s holding her up that also decided to let out such absurd statement.

“that’s cause i was sitting next to wendy - who by the way, isn’t exactly a quiet drinker,” you roll your eyes, before a separately realization hits you- “you didn’t drink.”

“well, i can’t really at the moment,” the brunette’s voice takes a gentler turn as you watch her free hand clasp her stomach.

“oh my god,” jaws on the ground, you’re not sure if you’re even blinking, “you’re pregnant? how long far along are you?”

“a month, me and jae were discussing how we’re gonna tell our families,” she meets your wide eyed gaze half-heartedly, “and if i’m going to continue working after i give birth.”

“either way i’m so happy for you,” you reach out your free hand that’s not wrapped around wendy’s waist to which the elder woman accepts, squeezing your hand just hard enough for you to feel her fears and excitement and overflowing joy flow through you, “you and jaebum are gonna be the best parents.”

“i never really said it but you helped me a lot when i just started,” the tears in her eyes makes them look like sparkling stars in the midnight sky, “and you’ve always been so supportive - seriously, ___, thank you.”

“stop,” you squeak in between holding your breath and holding back your tears, “i’m gonna cry.”

“if you cry, i’ll cry,” irene is already pulling her hand away and fanning her face, glimmering eyes turned to the sky.

it’s a moment later that a car rolls to a stop in front of the two of you. the window rolling down, revealing an extremely concerned jeongguk, “what happened?”

the “it’s a girl thing” comes a few moments later, particularly after you slipped into the passenger’s seat next to him while irene sits at the back with wendy’s head in her lap.

by the time you reach wendy’s apartment building, irene announces that she’s staying over at the first. if only to look after the drunken woman and make sure she’s okay.

“are you sure?” you ask to which she nods, murmuring something about how wendy couldn’t survive without her hungover soup if she didn’t stay and make it.

wendy manages to sober up and walk with irene holding her hand. and with the way she’s slow-waving at you, you take it as your cue to leave too.

“call me if you need anything, okay?” is the last thing you say before the two of them step through the clear glass door.

the rest of the ride is filled with silence, save for the faint sound of low volumed music in the background.

that is, until one of you decides to break it with a kind of heartwarming concern you thought already left his mind, “so are you okay?” he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, as if to check if the tears were still there, “you were crying just now.”

you can’t help but laugh, “don’t worry - they were tears of joy.”

“oh?” only then does he allow the smile to tuck on the corner of his lips, “what about?”

“i don’t know if i can say it,” you feel your own lips curling, “not my story to tell.”

“okay,” he nods, “as long as you’re okay.”

and so the silence returns but this time, it’s no where suffocating or makes you want to hop out of a moving car just to get away from the man you thought you could never stand to be alone with five months ago.

at first, you told yourself that it was for the good of the company - that you didn’t need to be friends, civility was enough. but then you had that talk in the storage room - both equally tensed but both grown out of their youthful impatience into someone who was willing to listen and learn.

and you realized that you work well together - too well, in fact, that jeongguk’s own secretary would come to you even after four months of working with him, just to ask you if he’d prefer his coffees black or with cream.

but you suppose it was because this was her first job after graduating - you were used to taking notes of the littlest of things jeongguk did because that was what worked best for jimin. that, minus the already known facts about jeon jeongguk that you’d gathered during your two years of knowing him and three months of dating him.

and it’s almost as though the plants and the stars align, as the car comes to a stop in front of your apartment building and as he pulls the brake before turning his upper half towards you, “i had a great time tonight.”

“me too, guk, and thanks for driving irene, wendy and me home - you’ve become quite the gentleman,” you chuckle to which the corners of his lips upturns, while his eyes casts itself down to his hands before they meet yours again.

“it was the right thing to do,” but then you can’t escape his eyes - those obsidian eyes that seem to reach through the windows of your soul effortlessly.

“well,” the smile may have been forced but it’s still comes from the heart, “i better go in.”

“yeah - yeah you should,” he nods and you thought you’re just imagining things - irene’s initial observation might or might not have gotten to you.

but just as you’re about to open the door, hand on the handle, jeongguk speaks again, “i was hoping,” at that, you turn to him, “you and me,” you can only hope he can’t hear the sound of your pumping heart, “we could try again, you know?”

you’d like to believe that you’ve gone past that part of your life where you hurt and you hurt others back - the ones that tried to help you, pull you out of that darkened cocoon that you grew so accustomed to.

like to believe that it took a bit more nudging for you to break through the cocoon and that was okay - everyone needed a little bit of help at some point of their life. yours happened to be when you were sixteen hitting seventeen. and even now, you still need help to fly - to let your wings flutter through the wind without breaking and hitting the hard cold ground.

but all of a sudden, you find yourself that same cocoon you thought you abandoned with the ugliest dark brown and maroon walls - the color of the school mascot that seemed to be the symbol of the baseball team’s undefeated victory throughout the year. and all because taehyung’s brother, jeongguk just joined the team.

and you were just one of the many girls who had her eyes on the ace. except your best friend was dating the captain so you sometimes joined her as she watched him practice. until jeongguk noticed you. until he lift you up and broke you down.

“jeongguk,” you say, heart erratically clawing against your chest - obsidian is the color of jeongguk’s eyes as he waited for your answer with bated breath, a rap song is playing in the background, smooth is the material of the handle of the door under your fingertips, marc jacobs is the perfume that faintly wafts from jeongguk’s collar and sweet is the taste of peach soju you had, “i think it’s best to maintain a professional working relationship instead.”

almost as though being pulled from a trance, jeongguk recoils, eyes blinking once before he blurts out a “yeah,” then, a moment later, “yeah, that’s probably the best - sorry for-”

“it’s fine,” you shrug.

“-making everything awkward.” he finally stops.

“i’ll see you on monday,” you say - not so sure if it’s the right thing to say, but jeongguk nods, echoing your words, “yeah - see you monday.”

and with that, you slip out of the car, heels clicking against the ground as you tread towards the door without looking back.

monday turns to tuesday and then tuesday turns to an abundant of weeks. your interactions ceased to a strictly professional, work-based relationship. jeongguk talks to you only when he needs clarifying where his own secretary can’t give him an answer.

you go to him when his secretary is doing a job that requires her to go mia for the day. wendy and irene are well aware of the sudden shift in your dynamics but if you’d gladly told them jeongguk was your ex-boyfriend then you gladly told them what you told jeongguk that night.

your only regret was taking away their own friendship with jeongguk. none of them went out for dinner with him because they were torn between their loyalty to their colleague-turned-friend and the boss whom they were halfway to befriending if not for your complicating the whole thing up.

“but you decided to keep your peace instead of the peace around you and i’m proud of you for choosing yourself first,” jimin had told you as he traced patterns on the dip of your back.

and you might or might not have cried and fell asleep in his arms that night before cancelling your appointment with your therapist with the next day and choosing to have it at the end of the month like you were supposed to. ever since then, your relationship hadn’t been all that physical.

“i think i need time for myself,” you’d told him in the middle of getting stuck in traffic with unmoving cars on either side of you, “but i also still want to see you.”

jimin who’d been staring out of the window mindlessly had turned to you - instead of asking you to repeat what you’d said because he barely caught it, he’d fixed you the warmest of smiles, “it’s been over a year, ___, didn’t it ever occur to you that i wanted more than just sex from this? from us?”

if there was something park jimin was, it was arcane. mysterious - just as you thought you figured out his wants and needs, he makes a 180 and surprised you in ways you never would have seen coming.

“doesn’t it bother you that i’m... this?” there was no word for it - for being yourself but also feeling like someone entirely different all at once.

“no, it doesn’t,” he’d look straight at you as he said it, “i know you probably don’t feel like it right now, but let’s go on a walk by the han river.”

and that was where you talked about your feelings and what you could and couldn’t give while you nibble on the fish shaped bun that was wafting with heavenly scent throughout your walk until you found the stall.

jimin still wanted to pay you for the times you’ll be spending together even though there won’t be sex invloved.

“we still have another few months of the contract, if i don’t pay you then i’d be breaching it,” he’d argued with crescent shaped eyes and the most beautiful smile.

“alright but i’m paying for dinner and lunches from now on,” and there was no changing your mind.

so it goes, you work in the day and leave with jimin for the night. he’d steal away your mac and you’d steal away his but for the most parts, you’d do work in the same room. he’d stop and stepped out only to bring you a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows and you’d pay back with chamomile tea.

then came the annual dinner which marked five months since that night. he’s decked in a stylish cut black tux with a blue sheen reflected under the light. paired with a glass flute of white wine, he’d probably already won at least three hearts only an hour into the commencement of the dinner while your teeth clamor at the low temperature of the hall.

you’re halfway ready to curse yourself for foregoing your crop blazer in jimin’s car all because you remember been too warm in it - but that was last year and the air conditioning needed fixing - when something warm engulfs your open shoulders.

“jimin,” you blink, recalling the last man talking to a board member just a moment ago before you’d stepped out.

“you should’ve told me you were cold,” he chides and only then do you notice the lack of blazer on his vest-hugged body.

stealing a glance into light poured room, you briefly stand on your tip toes, hands wrapped around the man’s arm as you pull him down to meet your halfway.

“thank you, daddy,” with that, you step away, feeling the rush of heat on your cheeks and the thrill of adrenaline in your veins.

“you’re welcome, dove,” and as soon as he goes back inside, he’s swarmed with other guests who must have wondered where the star of the night went.

and you would have turned to the cityscape if not for the glint of light trapped in glass.

“jeongguk,” your voice is strained, so you clear your throat and put on a smile to cover it up, “how long have you been there?”

a scoff follows your inquiry, “you’re not 16 and a guy giving you his jacket doesn’t mean jack shit, ___.”

at the uncalled for response, you subconsciously tug on the center front of the blazer, “first off, it’s armani, not polyester,” you say, not missing the way his eyes twitching at the comparison - he used to lend you his jackets and sweaters back when you were dating, “and whatever i do with my personal life is none of your business - i don’t have to explain myself to you.”

another scoff hits the air as he steps out of the shadow and into the sliver of light that pours from the hall and onto the veranda, “so all that talk about maintaining a professional relationship were just excuses? because you couldn’t get over the past?”

“the p -” you almost choke on your words, “the past when you cheated on me with my best friend all because i said taehyung was in the right for getting mad at you over you ruining his only chance to get into one of the best theater school in the world?”

“it’s cause of you!” the fact that his voice rose doesn’t go unnoticed even to him as he looks around and only after making sure that nobody was listening, does he continue is a hushed but harsh tone, “i slept with heather because you pushed me to her. if i wanted someone to point out the many list of things i did ‘wrong’ i could’ve just went to my parents.”

you sigh, “that’s the problem, guk-”

“don’t call me that, you don’t get to call me that,” he shoot backs.

“jeongguk,” you rephrase, fingers fiddling with each other until you’ve hit the ten-second mark, “what we had was toxic. we needed so much work on our self-esteem and personal traumas but we turned to each other hoping the other could fix it and all we did was make it worse.”

“please, you were the one who was so insecure about heather - you think i don’t realize how you look at her? how you compare yourself to her when all she did was be your friend?” it takes everything in you not to flinch at his choice of words, “what personal trauma,” he laughs dryly.

“that’s what i’ve been working on but i’m not the only one flawed -your parents,” you say, choosing to ignore the first part of his retort, “them constantly paying more attention to your brother just because he was older and achieved a little bit more than you did. and everyone else who compared you to taehyung’s ‘legacy’. so you turn to the only girl who noticed you,” there’s a flash in his eyes, one that burns bright with anger - just like it did all those years ago.

but you pretend not to notice, “and i was so caught up with the idea of a boyfriend of my own - a guy that didn’t choose heather over me that i did everything i could to keep you. i was toxic to you because i agreed with everything you said, i put down others while i lifted you up but as soon as i tried to fix what i’d done,” you heave out a sigh, “one push - that’s all it takes for you to fall right out my arms and if that wasn’t enough i hurt you by sleeping with taehyung.”

the last thing you see is the boy the with maroon and brown jacket, staring right at you with eyes prickling with tears and face flushed pink but no words come out from his clamped mouth.

so you turn you back on him like you did five years ago. you turned your back on jeongguk and you don’t look back.

you find jimin somewhere amidst the crowd, conversing with a guest from your rival company.

“mr. park,” his eyes focus on your tight-lipped smile as soon as he sees it, you don’t even have to say another word when he excuses himself and you, not even sparing a glance at the guest before his hand finds itself on your waist, guiding you through the room and into the empty hallway since all the guests have arrived and jimin was supposed to deliver the opening speech before you took him away from it.

you barely remember the ride to his place and how he’d sat you down on his bed, kneeling right in front of you with eyes overflowing with concern.

smooth is jimin’s skin under your fingder pads when you touch his face. plump is his lips that you kiss and sweet is the taste of his mouth from the red wine you’d seen him down at the beginning of the event. the woody scent of bleu de chanel that you got him for his birthday last year is what fills your senses.

but they’re gone too soon.

“are you sure?” jimin’s eyes bore into yours, searching for something - something you can’t pinpoint.

“jimin, please, i-” and that’s all it takes for him to press his lips harder to yours, one hand groping your breast while the other pushes the weight of the jacket off your shoulders.

the room is silent.

save for the tapping sound of your fingers across the keyboard. that is, until another pair of hands capture them and brings them across your chest in a hug whilst you giggle at the ticklish sensation of deep violet strands brushing against your cheek, “let’s have dinner together tonight.”

at that, your mouth clamps shut, body recoiling to the side to meet a pair of almond eyes, “don’t you have dinner with chairman of samsung tonight?”

from the way jimin’s lips purse together into a pout, it seems like you hit the nail right on its head, “you quit being my secretary - you should let me lie to you and say i’m free so we can have some ‘us’ time.”

“nope,” you shake your head, breaking free from the man’s grasp before looking at him pointedly, “you’re not going to skip a meal with one of the most influential person in the world.”

“how’s the website going?” he attempts to change the topic, eyes focusing on the sequence of letters and numbers on the screen of your mac as if he understood what the codes say.

yet you humor him, “it’s going okay, though i can’t seem to figure out how to configure the servers.”

it’s been six months since you’ve quit the job. three since you permanently moved in with jimin and one since you’ve got the paperworks done to open up your own joined business with irene. she decided to follow your footsteps to quit even though wendy was basically clinging onto her legs when she came over to pick up her belongings with a growing belly and a sort of radiance on her face.

naturally, the position for co-secretary was opened and applications were flooding in, so much so wendy had to beg you to meet with her somewhere just to review them together.

“i don’t know how to read people,” she lamented, “i do the technical stuff and you do the mind games - by the way,” something flashed in her eyes as her voice lowered into a whisper, “how did you to it?”

she meant, the explosive and tea-worthy news of how you and jimin came to be.

nobody knew about you and him until much much later. when you were free to go out to dinners and social events together with your hand on his arm and him strutting in with a never-before-seen smile. more jaws dropped that afternoon than the money raised for the event.

jeongguk is still the director of the IT department - you left to keep your peace but you’d also hope to keep his. because that’s the thing about past loves and open wounds. they hurt and they bleed with just the right words as knives but it’s how you choose to treat them that heals you.

and though your way of healing is by tearing a piece of yourself over and over again until you grow a new, steeler part that doesn’t mean you loathe the parts you’ve chosen to cut off.

as such, you don’t hate jeongguk - you still want him to live life to his fullest potential. you still want him to thrive like a wilting flower after a rainstorm.

you just didn’t want to - can’t be part of that life.

“my father used to say, ‘if you find yourself in a dry spell of ideas’, take a break,” jimin’s voice is laced with a sort of playfulness as his eyes disappear behind crescent moons, “particularly in mauritius.”

“you did not book a plane to one of the most beautiful islands in world,” you can feel your cheeks hurting from the growing smile that creeps up your face, “did you?”

“our flight scheduled to leave at 2 in the afternoon tomorrow,” he sweeps you up into his arms like you weight nothing at all.

“jimin!” a yelp escapes your lips in between him twirling around and the background moving too fast whilst your arms find their way to his shoulder, “you know i can’t hide a whole ass romantic getaway from my mother! what am i going to tell her when her unemployed, supposedly single daughter starts missing our daily calls because i was too busy vacaying?”

“a month,” jimin adds, head bopping against yours - you’re not quite sure when he stopped twirling, “we’re staying there for a whole month.”

“oh my god,” at first, excitement flashes across your face, then worry follows a second later, “what about your schedule? it’s gonna get pushed back - the phone calls wendy’ll have to make!”

“lisa’s in charge of the phone calls,” he means the new addition to his line of secretaries.

“doesn’t make it okay to give her all the work!” you say, not quite as passionate about someone you’ve never met as he gently lowers you, arms still banded around your waist whilst your foreheads touch.

“after we come back, i’ll make arrangements so your parents could come here - so i could meet them,” he steals a kiss from your half-open mouth.

“you’re kidding, you’re gonna meet my parents?” you echo, halfway into believing that you’re hearing things if not for the way his recently dyed hair bounces as he nods.

“i need their blessings first, don’t i?” he says, chuckling.

“after banging their daughter into the bed every single night, you’re gonna need a whole lot of those,” you pat his hair, in a ‘good luck’ kind of manner - your father isn’t the most welcoming and your mother won’t be as pleased to hear the out-of-the-ordinary ways you fell in love.

a bout of chuckles later, he’s swiping you up in his arms again as he carries you towards the familiar hallway where your shared bedroom lies while you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“but daddy, it’s still morning,” you giggle.

“didn’t stop you from begging for my dick yesterday, did it?” the corner of his lips curve into a smirk.

note. story time (a short post where i talk about the background of the fic eg. why i decided to write it, the overall message of the fic etc.) is already up (queued along w the fic)!

i’m aware that armani is a brand and polyester is a clothing material so it technically can’t be compared together but in a deeper sense, armani’s material is more comfortable than polyester so it works (pls make it work) ahahahahahaha

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kokororyuu · 3 years

Text

miles apart [levi ackerman x reader]

synopsis: “you’re going to die,” “i know,” “you’re dying,” “i know, levi, i’m sorry,”

warnings ⚠️: major character death(s), SPOILERS up to season three, slight suggestive themes (its brief!!), brief description of gore

word count: 3.8k

author’s note: no, because,,, this was my first levi fanfic, and i’m immensely proud of it ‼️ if we ignore the “suggestive” part 😩😩 anyway, have fun reading, lovebugs <33

PART TWO: once more

whatever just happened, had happened too fast, and now both you and levi were laying side by side, miles apart from everyone else and the chaos that caused this whole mess in the first place.

you’re both injured bad from the war, and the stench of blood, both humans and titans alike, lays thick in the air. you find yourself nearly suffocating in it as you cough up what seems to be more blood, it’s metallic taste coating your lips and tongue in red.

you can barely feel your arms and legs, and you’re pretty sure they’re either broken or torn off from the fight. you pull your heavy lids open and stare blearily at the night sky, how many hours had passed since you two had been laying here like this?

you turn your head slowly, hearing the multiple cracks your joints made in the effort as your eyes trailed to levi’s face. he’s still in the same position, facing the sky with empty, soulless eyes. you reckon he was pondering something, how long were we gonna stay here? when will someone arrive to help us?

“levi?” you croak out, and he lets out a little rumble of acknowledgement. “are you okay?” what a stupid question... with how levi is, he definitely isn’t, but he was sure to make it seem like he was. he nods to the best of his ability, though he isn’t faring much better than you. gashes that gush with blood cut across his body in what seems to be parallel and equal in length, claws, of some sort, you assume. “good,” you whisper so softly that he almost doesn’t catch the murmured word.

your life seems to be flashing before your eyes quite slowly for the amount of time you’ve spent here bleeding out beside the man.

you recall the first time you caught him off guard.

it was a complete accident. as a member of levi’s squadron, you worked under him as a subordinate and did as he said, after all, he had chosen you to be on his team, and you put as much trust in him as he did in you.

you were bringing him some tea after you had dropped off a huge stack of paperwork in his office. you knew he needed it, after all, it had only been a few days after your most recent expedition and paperwork was a bore if you ever knew one.

a simple teapot and cup of black tea rested on the tray in your hands as you made your way from the kitchen to his office, acknowledging a few cadets that would respectfully greet you before going on their way. when you had finally made it to his door, you knocked gently before waiting for his usual question of your name and reason for entering.

a few seconds, maybe minutes passed, and you were beginning to think he wasn’t even there, but you hadn’t want the tea to go to waste, so you hesitantly pushed the door open with your foot, entering the sparkling clean room with tray in hand.

“captain levi?” you nearly bit your tongue (oluo would have laughed in your face if you did before biting down on his own) and froze with your head peeking inside the room at the sight of the man leaning his head against the back of his chair, his eyes closed and his usual frown wiped off his face.

it had you in a wonder, surprised that even humanity’s strongest (and grouchiest) soldier could have a face as calm as the one on his as he slept. you stepped as quietly as you could toward his desk, setting the tea down with care before you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand wrapped around your wrist.

your eyes traveled up the scarred and rough hand, up the toned arm, and looked straight into narrowed grey eyes. “what are you doing here?”

“got you tea, captain,” your nerves were calm now, and you spoke with a grin, “thought you would need it with all the paperwork commander tosses at you,”

levi’s hand lingered on your wrist a little longer before he pulled away and carried the steaming cup to his lips in his strange cup hold that you’ve tried to mimic yet still can’t get right. he drank a little, his face ever so stoic. “tastes like shit, brat,” he said, though he made no move to drop the cup back into the tray and continued to sip away at the red orange liquid.

“thought you’d say that,” you turned to leave after saluting him, your hand wrapping around the doorknob before a mischievous impulse lit in you once more, “you know, captain,” he didn’t even glance up from the papers on his desk. “you look cute when you’re sleeping,” his gaze snapped up at that, and he was about to chew you out for making the comment, but to his dismay, you were already gone, having gotten the amusing response from him that you wanted.

there were many times after that where you’d make a little comment here and there, only to get an icy glare and a click of the tongue from levi, which wasn’t a problem to you at all, if anything, you found it the best part. the way he’d scowl at you and turn away, only to let you get away with it the very next day. it was like a little game the two of you would play, and you were winning if eye rolls, embarrassed blushes hidden behind callused hands, and, “tch,”’s counted as prizes.

you would’ve never thought he’d bite back, especially this far into the game.

“captain levi~!” you drew out his name with a little hop in your step. he didn’t stop walking, if anything, his pace sped up as he tried to leave you in the hallway. “captain!” you groaned childishly and ran after him. he turned the corner and into his office, leaving the door ajar. you grinned, it seemed he knew well enough you wouldn’t stop for a closed door. you opened it as soon as your hand touched the cool wood, and sang out, “levi~” you saw him standing by his desk and looking down at the papers that littered it. “i’ve got another joke for you—”

“—if you keep this up, i might actually get angry,” you halted in your tracks and clamped your mouth shut, angry? oh no, you weren’t trying to make him angry, only annoy him if anything. you knew, everyone knew to not get on levi’s bad side, and after seeing the man kick the titan shifter boy from the 104th cadets merciless, it’d be terribly stupid of you to try and anger him.

he dragged his fingertips across the tabletop and looked up through hooded eyes, “might even punish you,” you were stuck in a stupor at his words and how they obviously had implications for something else.

“but i guess you’d like that, hm? i wouldn’t want give you that satisfaction,” he seemed pleased with the way your cheeks flamed up and your jaw stayed dropped in shock. after he grabbed whatever he needed from his desk, he walked by you with a sly quirk of his lips, dragging a hand up to close your agape mouth. “close the door after you leave,” he called out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.

from there on, your relationship had changed drastically. this game now had two players, and that new addition was the original target of the game himself. the teasing and playful jokes continued on for days, weeks, and you were having so much fun that you barely realized how much some people were noticing, including a certain bespectacled one.

“hey, hange!” you plopped next to them as you watched them fiddle with a little gadget. “what’s this?” you eyed curiously as hange laughed.

“my new creation! i’m trying to make something erwin asked for to help with his arm. you nodded, understanding immediately. the commander had lost his arm when the scouts went to save eren from a kidnapping. there was a few moments of silence before hange asked, “so… you and levi?”

you opened your mouth to retort but they beat you to it, “don’t deny it! even eren can tell, and he’s as dense as a rock!” you cowered from their accusing finger before huffing out a sigh.

“you know it doesn’t work like that, hange,” the mood dampened with your honest but hurtful words. you were right, it didn’t. with a world of titans and destruction, war like this, there would never be a second of peace, of life, of freedom. you could be alive and happy one day and then die and suddenly gone forever the next. and with levi being an ackerman, he was bound to survive longer than you, you just didn’t want to cause him more unnecessary pain.

hange hummed under their breath, “you’re right, but if it were me, i’d rather die knowing i had the chance and took it, than die letting it slip between my fingers,” they continued to tinker with the gadget as you pondered quietly on their words. they were right, but so were you, and now it was just up to the risk both sides were willing to take. what would happen if you ever confessed these buried feelings of yours to your terribly stoic captain?

in the end, you never said anything, at all. the two of you stayed at this sort of flirting and joking around type state. it was comfortable, you concluded, though you had to be honest, there were a few close calls where you felt you blushed too much, said too much, or gasped a little too loud when his touch lingered on you for too long.

you hadn’t said a word about your feelings for the man, and neither did he.

levi didn’t know when his heart had decided to let you in.

it was probably after erwin had passed away on a roof of a building with a gaping hole in his side that colored his cape and the white bandages around his abdomen red.

he brought his body back for a proper burial, but even then, levi couldn’t cry, nor let a single tear slip down his cheek. for a few weeks, even if he seemed put together, there was a heavy feeling that resided in his chest. no matter if he tried to sleep it away or drown himself in paperwork, it never left him.

it had been a rough night. there were complications with the imports from a faraway town in sina, and while hange was busy with things as the newly appointed commander, levi had to deal with the papers that came with the conflict.

he didn’t know how long he had been sitting before the fireplace in the mess hall, scratching away at the parchment under the warmth of the flickering fire that casted a warm orange hue around the room.

he clicked his tongue as another wave of aches hit his head before rubbing at his temples. erwin would’ve been better at handling this shit… his brow furrowed at his thoughts, you know better than that, there’s no bringing him back, you made the choice, levi.

levi didn’t regret his choice, but he had guessed the heavy presence of death had just stuck with him a little tighter this time around. it was fine, it would pass, at least, that was what he told himself.

during his turmoil, you had entered the mess hall as quietly as you could, “captain levi?” he looked up from the papers and pulled his hand away from his face with a quirked brow. “i brought you tea,” you spoke softly as to not agitate him any further. “i hope it tastes better than last time, i practiced,” you sent him a lopsided smile that you hoped would ease his frown, but instead, it brought the opposite.

the lines on his face became deeper as he scowled, “i don’t have time right now,” and the grumble of your name right after sounded harsh on both yours and even his ears. it was now your turn to pout. you definitely weren’t trying to mess around with him right now, not with all the stress and the recent death of one of his closest friends.

you sat there across from him at the table in silence for a few moments as he penned the paper. what could make him feel better? you thought quietly to yourself, your eyes raking over levi in search of something, any indicator to help him. a sudden idea popped in your head as you stood, making your way to stand behind him as you watched his eyes never leave the documents. “what are you doing?”

you reached over and plucked the pen from his hand, placing it down on the table and ignoring his glare, “just relax, levi, i’m gonna try and sort out these tense ass muscles of yours,” as soon as the words popped out of your mouth, your hands began to press into his shoulders, eliciting a little sound of surprise from levi. he almost immediately tensed back up at the foreign feeling but relaxed to the best of his abilities after a few pointed words from you.

“i’m not just here to get you tea, you know?” you worked out a knot in his neck, watching as his head lolled to the side to give you more room to work. “i had the same training as you, and i know how to handle paperwork, you could always ask if you need the help,” he hummed at your offer, and you only chuckled before getting back to his tense muscles.

levi let himself relax, more so than he probably ever had. your hands made their way up the base of his neck, and he let out a little sigh. he didn’t think this would feel this good, and he was considering what he could do to pay you back before realizing. what was the need to? you were doing the work of a subordinate for a superior, there was no need for him to treat you to anything.

but there was something that made levi realize that it wasn’t true, no matter how much every fiber in his body wanted to reject the idea. you were different, in your own weird way, and he couldn’t place his finger on it yet, but he decided he’d find out along the way.

“alright, you can work with me starting tomorrow, meet me here after dinner. if you’re late, i’m not letting you help again,” you smiled victoriously and pat his shoulders to signify you were done massaging them.

“alright then! see you tomorrow, captain,” you saluted him and shuffled out of the mess hall to leave him to his work.

the man held back a chuckle, sipping on the now lukewarm tea by his side. he had to admit, you were getting better at brewing his favorite drink.

levi’s heart felt a little lighter that night.

the two of you were almost impossibly closer after that. early mornings were spent with hange at important meetings and gatherings, most of the days were spent listening to hange rant about titans and ridiculous (but hilarious) and sometimes even useful plans, and late nights would be spent on paperwork and idle chatter by the warm fireplace in the mess hall.

the two of you would talk about nothing and everything, sometimes levi letting you talk his ear off as he added comments here and there or choosing to bask in each other’s silence as the flames beside you two crackled.

there were nights you fell asleep at the table, only to wake up in the middle of the night with a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one levi refused to share with you the night before around your shoulders that smelled of fresh laundry and lemons.

levi remembered all these little moments, including the time he had to yank a paper from under your arm to save it from your impending drool, or the multiple times he draped his cotton blanket over you and pulled it around your shoulders, his hands hesitating to pick off the dust that had resided on your cheek before gently brushing it off you and holding his breath when you’d twitch or move from his touch.

he still couldn’t really understand how it happened really, but spending time with you made him realize how much he liked the way you smiled at him no matter how annoyed he was with you, and the way you talked to him like he wasn’t humanity’s strongest soldier.

he felt normal, and strangely free.

and for some reason, he felt that if you ever disappeared from his sight, he’d lose this light feeling in his chest that outshined the bitter emotions he was always burdened with.

he didn’t want to lose you.

levi huffs, trying to control his unsteady breathing. there’s a feeling of discomfort that settles in his chest, and he’s not sure if it’s from just the cuts and bruises he obtained from the crash. you’re treating him like he’s fragile, like glass, and he hates it, sure, he’s broken, even he knows that, but he hates it.

humanity’s strongest soldier… he scoffs internally at himself, well, he feels pretty pathetic at the moment. he then outwardly scowls, gripping onto the pants of his torn uniform.

“you’re going to die,” he doesn’t mean for his words to sound so sharp, and he’s sure that his tone hurts you more than the gashes that litter your torso.

“i know,” he’s right, it hurts, and they seem to cut deeper than your wounds, as if someone struck your heart with a knife and twisted the blade.

his voice nearly breaks when he says this, but he stays... strong, “you’re dying,”

“i know, levi. i’m sorry,”

you know this man has been through so much, too much. he lost too many, has seen too much, he’s been through so many tragedies, and you still haven’t seen him cry, not once, and not now as you lay beside him, shivering and keeping your eyes open enough to watch him glare up at the night sky.

one last attempt, you think to yourself. you need to get his attention before it’s too late, before you fade away and disappear, but you can already feel your conscious slipping through your fingertips and your eyes drooping.

“levi…” your voice sounds pained when he stays turnt away from you and looks up at the moon, “i’m proud of you,” levi’s heart squeezes and so does his eyes, he doesn’t want to hear your soft voice right now, nor look at your mangled body, or hear the shouts of soldiers swinging around on their odm gear or the battle cries as they slice into titans’ napes.

you bite back a cry at his act of ignorance to your pleas for him to just look at you, and fall silent as your energy drains along with the blood that comes from you and him and soak into the earth. you meant those words, you mean what you said, and you beg him with your eyes focused on his high cheekbones to just spare you a glance while his stay glued to the twinkling stars.

it becomes so quiet, that levi begins to think you’ve already kicked the bucket with how he can barely hear your breathing.

he’s already preparing himself to do what he usually does, steel himself against the terrible emotions of survivor’s guilt and sorrow. every time he feels the twinge of depression and desperation creep up and wrap itself around his heart, he escapes to his mind, the logical part of him. the part that keeps him miles apart from everything, distance, safety.

he does it so much that you know, and you can tell he’s doing it right now with how tense his brow is and how the nails of the hand which lays between you digs into his palm. he’s closing himself off again, even after all these years you’ve spent together as comrades, partners in crimes, and what you hope was as friends.

you try to distract yourself some more, with anything really, the way his hair, though covered in blood seems to flow seamlessly to the sides of his head, revealing his undercut, and his eyes that stare silently into the endless blue sky, or the familiar smell of citrus and fresh laundry that you get from him even with the layers of smoke that are wafting from the ongoing battle burning your lungs or the smell of blood still seeping out from the both of you.

you want to hold onto the lingering hope that he’ll turn to you and at least say one last goodbye, or say those unspoken feelings he’s always hidden behind cool grey eyes, but he doesn’t say a word.

time is running out, and you need to say this, say this before you leave him like everyone else. levi’s fingers twitch when he hears you take in a sudden breath, your voice coming out quiet, weak, frail.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” levi’s eyes open, and his head snaps toward you, and he regrets it, so bad. he manages to catch the exact moment the light, the life, fades from your very eyes he always thought were so gorgeous.

he’s lost his light.

you’re gone.

levi feels this terrible grip on his heart that makes him lose his breath and his head pound worse than it already is, and he chokes on the blood that gushes from his lips. his hand reaches out to you weakly, his arms, losing their strength, and he barely has the energy to keep his eyes open.

he almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he leans forward to press a shaky and hesitant kiss on the top of your head that he hopes conveys all the unsaid confessions he could’ve showered you with before your passing. his lips are warm, while your body turns pale and blue, and he finds it ironic how someone as kind and bright as you now seems dull in comparison to him.

as unshed tears pool at the corners of his eyes, your lifeless ones bore into his for the last time before he pushes them close with a touch of his hands over your eyes.

his heart, it hurts so bad, more than it ever has, and no matter how much he tries to push down the lump in his throat or the burning of his eyes and heart, it persists. he slowly falls back into his previous position, your corpse beside him losing its warmth and his steel grey eyes facing the moon once more.

the fuzzy lines around the full moon start to blur as he blinks a few times, the hues of white mixing with the blue of the sky, “it is…”

and finally, he lets himself cry.

explanations

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

this is a more poetic way to say “i love you” in japanese :D

“it is...”

this is essentially “i love you too” in reply to “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot #levi aot #aot imagines #snk fanfiction #snk levi #snk #shingeki no kyoujin levi #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #angst #attack on titan #major character death #angst with a sad ending #angst with fluff #fluff

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franniebanana · 3 years

Text

CQL Rewatch - Ep 23

Seriously, how useless are these two right now? The puppets all dropped dead around them, yet none of them run up to help Wei Wuxian. I think we saw Lan Wangji running, but he just had dramatic close-up shots for the first few minutes as well. Like, stop looking dumbfounded and stop just providing facial reactions to things, and get up there! Act like you're in a war, gdi! They're reacting to seeing Wen Ruohan stabbed, which I chose not to cap for obvious reasons.

So even though I knew the story from the book, I still think this moment is pretty cool when they reveal that it's Jin Guangyao who has stabbed Wen Ruohan literally and figuratively in the back. The last time we saw him, poor Nie Mingjue was getting the crap beat out of him by Jin Guangyao, so seeing this here--like, ooh! Double-double-cross! Triple-cross!! It's fun to see a twist that doesn't make you groan! Because, of course, you want to root for Jin Guangyao because he's a bastard and has always been looked down on everyone. Now you see that he was not a villain at all, and he was actually helping the good guys by double-crossing Wen Ruohan! Of course, we know he really is a villain and all, but most of that really doesn't come until later in the story haha.

I do enjoy the light parallels here between Lan Xichen and his brother. We see both of them willing to give their best friends the benefit of the doubt and protect them from those who are less willing, let's say. And both of them are even willing to stand up to other people they know and trust. Nie Mingjue is one of Lan Xichen's closest friends, and we see Lan Wangji stand up to his own uncle. If you're looking at CQL without the romance angle (which, why would you?), this parallel is a bit more striking. You basically have two sets of bosom friends. Obviously one set crumbles at the end, but there are definitely a lot of parallels and comparisons to make. And sorry, for a show that couldn't have any gay characters, they sure made it seem like Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao had a thing for each other (even though neither of them is gay in the book, mind you). A weird sort of change--I don't even ship them, but their early scenes seemed very shippy. Maybe it's my American lens, I don't know.

But speaking of weird changes, allow me to go on a tangent. Wen Qing's role expansion doesn't bother me, not really. I kind of say it does, but it's not really the expansion that gets to me. It's the fact that she was going to be a love interest for Wei Wuxian that bothers me. Wei Wuxian is gay. He's gay. Lan Wangji is also gay--if not gayer. Her being a love interest for either one of them means they are no longer gay. Bi, maybe, but what that would have done was erase their canon sexuality. It would have also turned their relationship into that horribly tropey brothers-in-arms or whatever name you want to give it--basically JUST FRIENDS who want to defend each other's honor. You can certainly read CQL that way, but if you are, I don't think you're paying attention to Wang Yibo's performance at all. And if you're not paying attention to the second lead, then why are you watching this show at all? So, changing their sexuality changes the whole show (which already is so tropey, from what I understand) into something so derivative, I wouldn't even want to bother watching it. One of the things I think you take away from CQL is Lan Wangji's, frankly, undying love for Wei Wuxian. If he goes and has a fling with Wen Qing at any point, that cheapens his character dramatically in my opinion. Lots of people can say this better than me, and probably have, but I'm very grateful to those passionate fans (and to Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo) for helping to change the script from the original drafts, which were frankly no better than a junky harlequin romance, having Wen Qing passed around like a piece of meat, which is so far from her character in the novel, and definitely a disservice to her.

Not gonna lie, it's adorable to think that Jiang Yanli and Lan Wangji have been talking over the past few days, maybe having tea together, while Wei Wuxian is in a coma. I feel Lan Wangji was a very calming presence for Jiang Yanli, because she was probably very worried and fretful over Wei Wuxian. I like the idea of him playing the guqin for Wei Wuxian, and then having tea and a quiet chat with Jiang Yanli before leaving. Also very cute that Wei Wuxian is half-heartedly trying to badmouth Lan Wangji, by calling him boring and uninteresting, but he can't even get through the sentence without smiling to himself. Obviously he's loving the idea that Lan Wangji has been at his side every day, worrying over him and slowly doing his part to nurse him back to health.

I love his expression here: shock and relief and joy, all mixed together upon seeing that Wei Wuxian has woken up. Obviously he knew he'd wake up eventually, but he didn't expect it so soon and I don't think he expected his heart to be in his throat and to be so indescribably happy to see Wei Wuxian awake.

Wei Wuxian, of course, can't really meet his eyes, and Jiang Yanli makes a swift exit (she knows what's up--these boys need to talk). And Lan Wangji just has love in his eyes: Heart-guang Jun. I mean, imagine how he must be feeling right now. He had just gotten Wei Wuxian back from what seemed like certain death, finally reconciled, and then Wei Wuxian is in a coma! He must have been terrified of losing him again. It's probably all he can do right now to not hug Wei Wuxian.

I seriously love everything about this scene. I love the colors, the cinematography, the longing glances Wei Wuxian gives Lan Wangji, the way Lan Wangji quietly scolds him while still playing the guqin because he's a professional. But really, I just find this scene very pretty and moving and emotional. I enjoy seeing Lan Wangji getting to take care of him and even more that Wei Wuxian lets him and puts up with it. I think most of us are quick to retort a good old, "I'm fine" when asked how we are, but in this case, Wei Wuxian is not fine, and he has no ground to stand on if he's trying to prove that. It's hard for Wei Wuxian at this point, though, to really lean on anyone, even Lan Wangji who is his best friend. He certainly can't lean on Jiang Cheng for reasons I don't think I need to go into again. He kind of leans on Yanli, but at the same time, he can't (and doesn't wish to) burdon her either. Lan Wangji is really the one person he should be able to lean on and seek comfort from, but he feels awkward and uncomfortable, because of the dark spiritual energy and giving up the sword, and Lan Wangji's crusade to help him.

"Who is good and who is evil?" Wei Wuxian is struggling with a moral dilemma: is it right to round up the Wens and kill them/hold them captive? The Wens did horrible things, after all, and this is the reality of war. Of course, we've just seen Lan Xichen struggling with it as well. Why capture the women and children and elderly, who have nothing to do with the war? He's only met with the fact that it's not just the male cultivators who are dangerous. Still, his mind is only placated by the lie that the people will just be interrogated and sent to a labor camp--then cut to the blood on the floor. So Wei Wuxian is not only struggling with what the Jin Clan and other clans are doing, but he's also thinking about his own deeds--how many people did he kill? How many did he brutally murder in the name of revenge? Because of the things he's done, is he good or evil? Is good and evil so black and white? Does it just depend on whose lens you're viewing it through?

Lan Wangji looks at Wei Wuxian with all of this knowledge and doesn't know what to think. He's afraid of what Wei Wuxian has become, afraid he'll end up like Wen Ruohan--he's afraid of losing him entirely. But the situation is not black and white, and good and evil is not so easily defined. You can only know once you know that person's heart, and Wei Wuxian isn't really letting Lan Wangji in anymore. He's trying to convince him with his words, but that is simply not good enough.

I think if Lan Wangji hadn't stopped him here, Wei Wuxian would have played that flute and tried to end all of the Jin "hunting party" (sorry, that was a little dark). His emotions were already high after the conversation with Lan Wangji on the cliff, and we've already seen him feeling disturbed by how the Wens are being chased and rounded up. I, for one, wouldn't have complained if Jin Zixuan's cousin bit the dust earlier. I think his name is Jin Zixun. Is that it? See, even I don't remember him.

I love how even though they are far apart, this scene still feels very intimate. It's very moving, and the music and the cinematography help to cultivate that feeling. I like how Wei Wuxian perks up when he hears Lan Wangji pluck the first few notes, and Lan Wangji does the same when he hears the sound of Wei Wuxian's flute. I feel like they are spiritually connected here as they play this haunting duet. And I think it's a connection they haven't felt for a long time. There has been so much tension between them for so long, and this scene feels like a big sigh from both of them. While I still feel like there is tension present, there is a bit of a release here--at least, that's how I feel as a viewer.

Ah, yes, the awkward period where Jiang Cheng has become leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, wants to control Wei Wuxian, but doesn't know how. He's new at this, so I can't blame him for being a bit awkward as he figures out what he's supposed to be doing. As a young man, he basically nagged Wei Wuxian for doing inappropriate things, but now when Wei Wuxian misbehaves, Jiang Cheng is in part responsible for that behavior. At some point or another, the two of them grew up. Wei Wuxian's misbehavior isn't precocious anymore--it's serious and it has consequences, and just as in Gusu, Jiang Cheng sees that those actions are a reflection of the Jiang Clan. Only now, they aren't just a reflection of the clan, they're also a reflection of Jiang Cheng, himself, and his leadership (or lack thereof).

And speaking of awkward...Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have some...unresolved...stuff to deal with. But God forbid they actually talk right now. How can they? They're at this stuffy banquet that neither one of them want to be at. I feel for them both. Wei Wuxian is hurt because he thinks Lan Wangji doesn't trust him. Lan Wangji feels terrible because he wants to help Wei Wuxian, but the latter won't really let him in and allow him to do so. I feel myself just on pins and needles during these scenes with all these glances, but at the same time, I love it because DRAMA and ANGST! And they're just so in love lolol.

Nie Mingjue has to be that guy that always wants a certain table. The waiter leads him over and says, "Is this table okay?" expecting the answer to be yes, but nope--not Nie Mingjue. He'll request a different table. XD

I love this little conversation--it's like they're both measuring each other up. I think they each have a healthy distrust of the other. Although Wei Wuxian has always been kind to Jin Guangyao, I don't think that discounts the whole demonic cultivation thing in his mind. He knows Wei Wuxian is smart and clever and, most importantly, capable. And as for Wei Wuxian, I don't think the ease in which Jin Guangyao manipulated Wen Ruohan is lost on him.Essentially the downfall of this great cultivator and enemy of all the other clans was due to one man: Jin Guangyao. I think Wei Wuxian is thinking the same thing I am: he's extremely clever, devious, and potentially dangerous if you get on his bad side. His rise to power within the Jin Clan is kind of amazing. His estranged father admits to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen that Jin Guangyao is his son, his station has improved drastically in a short amount of time. He sure as hell is dangerous.

Jiang Yanli can hardly contain her excitement when Jin Guangshan brings up her former engagement to his son. Just kidding, of course. I'm kind of horrified for her that he's bringing this up now in front of all these people. It feels very much like he's pressuring not only her, but also his son to get engaged again. First of all, Jiang Fengmian and Jin Guangshan agreed at the time to let the children decide whether they wanted to get married or not. Second, if you're going to talk about this, at least do it in private! Third, this is not letting the kids decide. God, this would be humiliating! And I also totally expected Jiang Cheng to speak for his sister here, so I'm glad he didn't do that. It's really none of his business either.

Lol! The weird cutoff here! Who's speaking??? I don't know!!! I mean, obviously, it's Wei Wuxian, but it's like they don't expect us to recognize his voice hahahahaha.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | Or just check out the #CQL Rewatch hashtag

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #theuntameddaily #cql #the untamed #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #wen qing #jin guangyao #lan xichen #ep 23 #cql rewatch

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oquinn53 · 3 years

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BNHA THEORY RAMBLING WITH SPOILERS

Okay so second bnha rambling with theories because I can’t think straight so I think of bnha! Specifically Deku.

Specifically, Deku’s endgame. There are so many theories out there and I just.... think about Deku specifically a lot. I mean he’s the protagonist and everything and I love him and a common theory that I actually do kinda think about a lot is Deku losing OFA. But I don’t think he’ll end quirkless. I think a lot of things need to happen but let’s start with me rambling about Deku’s characterization, how it can all be wrapped up in this:

Deku has PTSD. (This part is LONG and talks about masochism and mentions suicide and all that. Other points are shorter!) And I don’t mean post war arc or even post Bakugo’s kidnapping, if we want to go that far back. Deku has PTSD from the VERY start. This kid is a walking mental illness. Sources? Hi, I’m a Civilian With PTSD and I saw Deku at the beginning and I watched Deku’s horrible mental health deteriorate EVEN MORE than it started off as. This is really important to me, to state that he has it from the beginning, because I believe in the character growth and development. I might be talking out my ass but it’s fun so. Why do I say he starts out from it? Let’s look at symptoms.

A) hyperfixation, my old friend. Deku fixated hardcore on All Might and Heros in general. But he fixated specifically on All Might and he gets EMBARRASSED about it a lot. (Funny enough, the embarrassment of it is also a symptom of ADHD but I’m not as well versed in that). Hyperfixation is a very very common coping method.

B) His anxiety. Kinda self explanatory here. He’s a bully victim. He also has been literally classified as LESS. Quirkless. But also defenseless. Useless. We’ve heard that, his anxiety is there but it’s because of what DEFINES him. His self identity was born from what everyone else tells him. He’s a determined boy, but his sense of self is only wrapped up in what other people think—or specifically, what All Might thinks. Which blends a bit with...

C) A loss sense of identity. I talked about this a little bit he last part but Deku’s goal to become a hero is so tied to All Might that even when he gains the quirk, he has to have it beaten into him with warning of losing the use f his arms for him to realize he’s NOT All Might. But that’s still what he sees, even when he switches to using his legs more. He has no idea who he is. He just copies. He copies Bakugo’s moves again and again. And while it’s cool to see all the parallels and growth of Deku learning from others, there is a message of “making it his own” when Deku copies others again and again because he has no idea who HE is. He analyses like crazy because figuring out how other people do things is the only way he can figure out how HE can do things. Also, the whole language change because his image of victory is Bakugo? Literally his speech pattern isn’t his own, his every day one matching his mother’s.

D) repressed and heavily released emotion. He’s 0 or 100, both when he gets OFA and with his emotions. I mean. Feral!Deku. Do I need to say more? Yes, because I was to drive home how not okay Deku is from the very beginning. Boy cleans the beach and screams bloody murder. He has no idea what emotion to have and needs to let it out. Doesn’t matter he just did a shit ton of physical release, he has so much emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with. Just like Bakugo’s anger, Deku’s emotion usually comes out as his tears. Boy cries a lot but sometimes tears aren’t enough and Deku screams a LOT. Even his own excitement bursts out in bigger ways, with his mumbling and fact dropping (god, also slightly autistic coded maybe? Blurred lines with ADHD there, it again, not my area of expertise)

E) black and white thinking. He’s young, so that explains some of this but just like I mentioned above with the 0 or 100, he represents the mindset of civilians. He literally blinds himself at the very start to even what’s happening to HIMSELF. He sees hero and he sees villian and those are his two categories. Bakugo literally tells him to kill himself and Deku thinks about how that would negatively affect Bakugo. He doesn’t and never does see Bakugo as a villian for this. He sees “wow that wouldn’t be good for his Hero image” and because Deku sees Bakugo as a hero, everything has to fit into that. And while Deku has huge growth with this next part, he also originally viewed villains as just villains. He learned a LOT and while the society’s image becomes less black and white for him (because the whole manga revolves around the gray morality of it all) he still doesn’t see much gray area. It’s win or lose. With the sports festival, he literally won the race without his quirk. He got through the Calvary battle despite being a giant ass target. He placed in the top 8 (which he probably would have gotten higher on if his goal didn’t change) and despite accomplishing his goal with Todoroki, he broke down about not doing what All Might asked him despite gaining permanent scarring and a hell of a warning re his arms. But to point back at the beginning, this is reinforced with his entrance exam. Passing the written exam meant NOTHING because he did “””nothing””” in the practical.

F) last point, Deku’s a masochist. Obviously with the broken bones and things but I’m not even just talking about the physical damage he does to himself—which is, what, 95% of the time what he gets most of his wounds from? Anyway—I’m talking about his mindset. Masochism isn’t just the physical act of causing pain. It’s that mindset of deserving pain. The reasoning doesn’t matter. Deku only “betters” himself for the sake of giving more to others. He trains so hard, not for himself, but for others. On the outside it might seems like his goal of becoming a hero is his own but he sacrifices his body and dives into situations where he’s literally been warned he’s going to die and he just does it anyway. Eri’s Arc and him “changing the future” is what I’m referring to here and you could say “well he DID say he would change that future!” And okay, sure, but he was told Sir is never wrong. But he would rather rush into that future where he dies than take even a moment to think through his actions. But anyway, my point is him at the beginning so I specifically mean the training montage. Where he was ALREADY on a tough schedule that he knew would be difficult and he literally adjusted it and added MORE. Because, to circle back to other points because mental illness always overlaps points, he can only think of himself as 0 or 100, black and white, Able To Save or Failure. If he can’t be at 100 then he believes he deserves pain and causes it to himself. The only time he regrets his injuries is when it prevents him from giving MORE of himself to others. He learns his shoot style not because he doesn’t want to hurt himself but because he doesn’t want to become useless to others. He trains and loses sleep and puts his body through hell because he thinks of himself only as something for others. (I think wanting to save Shigaraki is a powerful moment not because it’s Pure Boy Deku but because it’a his own thinking, his OWN want, but.... it’s still not for him and will still cause him pain). And a last point on this, Heros Rising showed us that Deku is willing to give up his quirk and his dream to win and it showed us that while he believed he didn’t have any other choice, he was deeply disappointed in himself. Winning wasn’t enough. Hurting himself THAT MUCH wasn’t enough. He let All Migjt down and giving up his dreams, almost dying, becoming quirkless, all wasn’t enough to counteract the shame he held. Like god. Baby.

Other small observations or relevant commentary:

1) The doctor who told Deku he was quirkless is the same doctor who worked on Shigaraki. Same doctor who can perseve dead bodies. Same doctor who worked with AFO and all that. (See? Short! Will be relevant soon)

2) One for All is tied to All for One. OFA was literally created the moment a hand reached out to help. Can one even exist without the other?

3) Bakugo needs to apologize. Horikoshi has literally said in an interview post Heros Rising that Bakugo needs to apologize. Sacrificing his life to save Deku is NOT how you apologize to Deku. Deku will ask for a receipt on this type of apology. Return to sender. Unacceptable. So. Bakugo needs to apologize.

4) Deku’s dad isn’t in the picture yet. Hasn’t even been spoken of except for the fact we know his quirk is fire breathing and his name is Hisashi. Oh and he’s abroad. Oh and Horikoshi said he’ll be in the picture at some point. Given we’re in the final arc......... this might not be relevant at all to my theory because I have mixed thoughts on AFO being Deku’s dad but it would connect a few things in the theory.

SO. Finally, all of this together had me thinking about Deku’s characterization and what this (now with COMBAT related ptsd and not just civilian ptsd) means for his ending.

Like I said, I think he’s going to lose OFA. And I originally didn’t think so because Heros Rising showed his losing it and why would they do that again? The movie is canon. Horikoshi himself said so and was a huge part of the production of it. So they did that and wouldn’t do it again. Except.... Deku GAVE OFA away. Which is significant because it was his choice. And he had shame and we witnessed how much that hurt him, but we haven’t seen what’s now been tried TWICE: OFA being forcibly taken from him. Maybe by Shigaraki, since that is building up big time. But maybe by saving Shigaraki.

Either way, what’s more significant to me than how he has it taken is what that means for him, based on everything else above: he would lose his entire self identity. He would literally have no idea who he is anymore except for the only reference he’s ever had, which his from when he was quirkless. He gained friends only after he had a quirk. Every bond he has is tied to him being a hero and he was told it was impossible for him to be a hero without a quirk. Even All Might’s adjusted answer to him at the beginning involved giving him a quirk as the answer for him being able to become a hero.

I think this is the absolute perfect chance for Bakugo to say “since when did you need a quirk to be a hero”. And it doesn’t matter much what the context is, what causes Deku to still need to be a hero (whether a Situation or just an identity crisis) and I think about Quirkless Deku as a hero a lot, since that’s how he was originally written in the one shot before he was revamped for bnha.

But I don’t think Deku will end quirkless either because of who his doctor was. I think Deku had a quirk. I think the doctor stole it. Whether that’s because AFO is Deku’s dad and saw his quirk and knew he had to take it for some reason or whether it was independent and the doctor saw it and took it. The whole toe thing can be written off so easily that Deku could easily have had a quirk at some point.

And maybe, if AFO and OFA are cancelled out, the quirks that were stolen go back to their original owners. Meaning Deku gets his ORIGINAL quirk back.

As in, Deku gets his own identity.

And what would that quirk be? Hm. I don’t know. But. His mom can move small objects. His dad can breath fire. A mutation, maybe? I’ll leave that one up in the air.

And there are a lot of implications here that this could mean for him, as far as healing. And I just want him to be happy.

#bnha spoilers #bnha theory #bnha ramblings #Deku #character analysis #tw masochist #Deku has ptsd and no one can convince me otherwise

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love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward · 3 years

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Okay so continued from this ask about Kyoko

Anyways, as introduced in THH, Kyoko is an extremely distant person with an iron mask, which intimidates everyone around her.

Everytime she happens to be described, she is described as something akin to a ghost aka not someone belonging to this world because of how ethereal her presence is.

She was moulded (read: traumatized) by her grandpa to become a detective to the extent that she was desperate to prove herself to him to not get kicked out like her father (she was also manipulated into believing that her father left because he didn't care about her by said grandpa) since her grandpa was...well the only one who had showed her a proper modicum of love at that point.

Her family took being a detective as something involving an extreme amount of honour which resulted in her trauma.

She also... didn't know what she was apart from a "perfect Detective" and was terrified of that internally (she has a LOT of parallels with Nagito which is why I REALLY want them to team up atleast ONCE likedanganronpaIambeggingyou), since she felt like an empty husk due to repressing her emotions since forever.

Because that's how a true detective should be (...it's really scary how MUCH she fits my own ideal of a detective), operating by cold hard logic to uncover the truth from the messy web of lies and make it known. A detective was to not take sides, nor aspire for fame (coughSherlockHolmescough), they must always remain neutral and not let personal feelings or prejudices come into the way, and she followed that.

Now, in the first game (I assume it was the worst for her since all she knew about herself was simply that she's a detective), everyone loses their memories of their school life with each other, leading them to believe that they had just met. They all remember their Ultimate Talents (heads up: An Ultimate Talent is something that you must be the very best at in your particular field in your age group. If you are like that, then Hope's Peak Academy personally scouts you and you are invited to attend the school as an "Ultimate"), apart from Kyoko.

Yeah, she quite possibly forgot that she was a detective, or atleast she forgot that she was the Ultimate of it, nevertheless, the main source of her self confidence and rigidity was lost to vague memory, which I believe caused her closed off ness to be more exaggerated, since I believe she was TERRIFIED. Imagine the one thing you stake your identity on....which you end up forgetting.

Throughout the game, she basically carries the class trials by herself and is virtually the only reason the six survivors are actually survivors.

However due to her upbringing, she has another issue which happens to be...

....severe trust issues. She has been told not to trust anyone and considering that they are in a literal KILLING GAME, you really can't blame her.

However, this leads to her downfall.

In Chapter 3, she disappears since she has presumably found a secret passage in the bathroom which she was investigating along with the school to find the secret of the Killing Game and the mastermind. She refuses to trust her classmates and shoulders the entire responsibility onto herself, since she desperately wants to uncover the truth....

.....her motto which she has been clinging onto for dear life, underneath all the turmoil.

Makoto (our sweet sweet protagonist, the nicest person ever in Danganronpa) notices this and gently tells her that she can rely on him....that she doesn't have to shoulder everything by herself. He doesn't act pushy, he just tells her that it's okay for her to trust people since she literally looked dazed when she came back in Chapter 3, and she goes,

"Okay, I will give this trusting people thing a try."

She then trusts him with the secret of the bathroom hidden passage but he ends up getting attacked and in bed. F.

Anyways, that causes him to become the target of the mastermind.

Now Kyoko, apparently due to her training is capable of hearing "Reaper's footsteps" aka she can "hear" when her or someone she really loves's death is close.

Now, when Makoto nearly gets killed by the mastermind, Kyoko hears it and fights them off. The mastermind had been planning to kill Makoto and frame her as his killer which she realised so she stays at his room until she's sure the danger has passed.

Anyways, she obviously leaves and then the rest of the classmates discover a dead body whose mask they try to take off but it explodes and Makoto notices that they are dressed the same way as his attacker was. Kyoko arrives way late which makes him wonder whether she had killed that person or not.

Fast forward to the trial where she says that it's now or never for her.

Anyways.

What we have to remember about Kyoko is her MAIN motivation aka solving the mystery. She wouldn't hesitate to make sacrifices to get to it. She is dedicated to her job.

[We also have to remember that she spent her life travelling from place to place, always shifting schools, causing a lack of proper attachments. The only attachment she had was her grandpa until she met Yui Samidare who dies pretty soon during a case via self sacrifice for Kyoko in a way. During all this, her motto and her dedication to it were the only constants].

Anyways.

The mastermind attempted to frame Kyoko for that particular dead body, but Kyoko manipulated the whole trial and framed Makoto as the culprit instead to save her own life.

Makoto gets sent to the execution but doesn't die since his Ultimate Luck talent saves him and he gets thrown into a trash dumpster.

Kyoko comes to save him and apologises. A small sign of trust since she literally never does that. Makoto was virtually the only one she trusted since despite her frosty exterior, he tried to get to know her, but didn't push and just gave her space......and said trust in her backfired and caused him to nearly die but anyways—.

At that point, Kyoko has remembered her Ultimate Talent (Ultimate Detective) and she trusts Makoto with that. She further trusts Makoto with telling him about her frustrations against her father. She didn't even admit them to herself until much much later.....and she trusts him enough to say that.....

....maybe because of how easily he forgave her but eh—

Anyways, she finds her father's skeleton in a nice little box, gift wrapped and everything which causes her to lose her composure ever so slightly and Makoto leaves to give her space to collect herself.

~~~~~

Even though the first game was essentially Hope VS Despair, it was also about Trust.

Since if you do not trust in the feeling of Hope, you will fall into despair.

Something we can see with Kirigiri in a way.

Kyoko being a detective is possibly the best way to broach the topic of trust, since lies and truth are directly connected to it.

If you are truthful with someone, then that usually means that you trust them.

Kyoko's motto was to remain neutral and without biases which caused her to actually develop a bias, nearly getting her best friend killed.

She wanted to solve the mystery and uncover the truth, however she also realised that without trusting others with some modicum of the truth, she wouldn't be able to do so.

When she arrives at the very end of Goodbye Despair in the 6th trial, it's nice to see her relationship with trust having grown enough to give the Remnants a second chance by trusting that they would be able to find the core truth inside themselves to break free from the lies crafted by the mastermind's brainwashing.

Hajime finds his own truth and decides to go "fuck this, I will make my OWN future" due to this.

[She ALSO finds out that her father was involved in Hajime's inhumane brainwashing which probably just destroyed her last bit of trust towards Hope's Peak Academy but eh].

In DR3, when she holds Naegi's hand with her ungloved burnt hands, it's a symbol of HOW much her trust has grown in order for her to bare her wounds like this to reach to him and pull him out of his own despair.

In conclusion: She's the best person ever and deserves the world

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST SHE SAW A WRAPPED GIFT OF HER FATHER'S SKELETON AND 'LOST HER COMPOSURE SLIGHTLY'???!!!! WHAT THE FUCK.

also she sounds creepily like you and kinda like me too this is so weird also she had daddy issues vibes I KNEW IT

Also i was so irrationally excited at the prospect of a nagito and kyoko pairing like its not like id be able to read it anyways but then i realised. it would be VERY similar to the sheep scene in loki. the sheer xNTx vibes my GOD.

also this is pretty much what happened to nico too and im scared of how we kin such similar characters im terrified

#makoto was jason :(#he was the first and maybe the only person nico trusted before the athena parthenos trip and his first friend and then he decided to #trust jason and trust chb maybe a little bit so he went and lived there but then #jason fucking died #sigh #and all his healing progress went right down and he went crazy #he's getting better now and will supports him so thats nice i guess but still i cant shake off how similar these two people's traumas are #just the trauma not the personality #she's an xNTx and nico is an xSFx #danganronpa #mahi's being mahi #sometimes i wonder if writers use the same moulds for characters and their traumas #like they're making cookies #ask #K!

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frostsinth · 4 years

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Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 3

Part 1 | 2 - MasterList

Ok, so I’ve been sitting on this mostly finished part since basically the end of the Year. I’m sorry, I just forgot how close I was to being done. And for some reason, I’m enjoying daydreaming out chapters right now rather than writing them -sigh-

But either way, Here’s an update! I hope you guys continue to enjoy the dumbassery and himbo vibes! If you like my work, consider supporting me by buying me a coffee from the link in my MasterList above. I have lots of other inane ramblings there too if you are interested. DM me for commissions, shoot me asks with thoughts/comments!

All the best, and Enjoy!

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

“You never told me your name.” Erramun called softly.

I stiffened, casting a quick glance at him over my shoulder. He was leaning over the horn of the saddle, perhaps trying to look nonchalant. But the grimace on his features confirmed it was simply the more comfortable position for him. I wondered at that for a moment. How well he had hidden his discomfort before. How far he had travelled with such an injury that obviously pained him so. I wasn’t sure if that made him lucky, or just stubborn. I watched his eyes studying the great stone wall we moved parallel to, and chewed over what answer to give him. Had he heard my name before? The name of the “goblin Princess”? If I told him it honestly, would he finally understand who it was he had been talking to all this time?

For some reason, I didn’t want him to make that connection. Not yet. Not ever, if I could avoid it. I was hoping that after I got his wound washed up and dressed, I would be able to convince him to give up his foolish folly. A part of me wondered if he would treat me differently, if he knew. Would he spend his energy attempting to win me over? I didn’t fancy the idea of having to fend off his advances. And if I was being completely honest… I rather liked how he treated me now. Like an equal. Not someone to fawn over, or try to flatter and praise to some unseen advantage. He didn’t act like I couldn’t do things for myself, or like it was beneath me to do so, as others so often did. But I knew I couldn’t avoid giving him a name forever...

“Gana.” I told him after a moment too long, settling on the name my nieces and nephews had dubbed me with years ago as toddlers unable to pronounce the full ‘Morgana’. “... My name is Gana.”

“Do you… serve the Princess then, Gana?” He asked, hesitant, but his tone curious. Then snorted slightly. “I’m not sure I can picture you as a servant. Obedient... quiet.”

“Well, you have known me for such a long time.” I replied, unwilling to give any real answer. “Obviously you would know, now wouldn’t you?” He started to open his mouth with a bemused curl in its corners but I waved my hand to silence him. “Shush now. Sneaking in requires a modicum of quiet, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sneaking in?” He echoed, though I saw him wince at his own volume. He quickly corrected that to a whisper with his next words. “... Why are we sneaking in?”

I glanced at him again. “Because you’re an orc. Half-orc, alright.” I quickly corrected when I saw him open his mouth to argue. “Either way, you’ll raise a lot of questions. Call too much attention to us.”

“And that’s a…. Bad thing?”

I pulled us up beside the small side gate around the back side of the palace. His mare shifted nervously, and I saw her eyes roll to consider the steep drop off to our left. It was narrow here, but I knew she would fit safely. I had taken my own horse out this route more than once. I passed him the reins momentarily as I turned back to fiddle with the locks and latches.

“... It would just make things complicated, ok?” I told him distractedly. “Just... Trust me.”

I heard him give a deep rumble. “Alright. I do.”

I jerked my head back to him. “You do what?”

His emerald eyes seemed particularly vibrant against the grey sky overhead. “Trust you. You seem very kind, Gana. And very smart.”

I almost laughed, but quickly remembered where we were. I shook my head instead, bewildered. “You know I was being sarcastic before, right?” I quipped. “You don’t actually know me at all.”

Another rumble, and I saw him nod with it. “Yes… But you are the first human who did not seem afraid of me when you first saw me. And you speak plainly, not with that strange way of speaking without speaking.” He offered me a weak grin, and my heart skipped a little. “And now you, eh… sneak me into the castle. To help me. Even though I have offered you nothing in return.”

“What do you mean, speaking without speaking?” I asked, turning back to the latches to hide the sudden flush to my face.

A soft ‘hmm’ this time, as he struggled to find the right words. “The King, Valeri-whatsits. He would speak, and say words. And I would hear them, and I knew them. But I would learn nothing from them. He might as well not have spoken at all.” I could hear the frown lacing his next words. “I did not like it. I felt… foolish, and confused.”

I snorted, shaking my head and pulling the last lock loose. Unwinding the chains to yank open the creaky gate. It led into a deep tunnel, not quite high enough to ride through on horseback. I hoped for his sake Erramun continued to keep his head bowed over the horn of his mount’s saddle.

“That’s how court is.” I told him distractedly, waving them through before refastening the gate behind us. I took up the mare’s reins again to lead them through the tunnel. “People never say what they mean. And to learn anything, you have to ask the right questions. Then you have to listen to what people don’t say.”

His soft growl reverberated around the tunnel walls, and his mount skittered slightly at the sound. I could tell she was nervous by the close quarters, and patted her nose reassuringly. She gave a soft wuffing sound and nudged my shoulder.

“This makes no sense. Why not just-”

“Shh!” I told him, pulling up short as I heard the click of boots at the other end of the tunnel.

But after a moment, the sounds passed. I sighed quietly, then gave the mare a gentle tug to start leading her forward once more. The tunnel was not long, and within a few yards we were at its mouth. The large mare attempted to surge forward at this realization, eager to be in the open air, but I held her firm. Planting my heels to keep her from overwhelming me, though I was certain she would have no trouble doing so should she so choose. But she let me still her as I poked my head out first and looked around. The small side path was empty, and I quickly led us out and up. Heading from the outer wall around the outside of the city to the castle proper.

“... Can I speak now?” He asked after a little, and I rolled my eyes.

“Well, it seems you already did.”

He chuckled softly. “See? I like you. You do not speak without speaking. This is why I trust you.”

I paused, rubbing the mare’s nose absent mindedly. Feeling a stab of guilt at his words. After all, I might not beat around the bush like my brother... but I was certainly withholding a lot of information. She gave another soft wuff. I shook myself, bringing my mind back to the present, and started to lead her forward again.

“I was afraid all humans would be like the King.” He told me after a few moments. Seeming strangely eager to fill the silence that had fallen between us.

I peeked at him quickly. “Have you never met a human before?” I couldn’t help the curious edge to my tone.

He offered me a toothy grin. “Just one. My mother.” The half-orc tilted his head lazily to the side. “She used to tell me all kinds of stories when I was little. Mostly about Princesses, and knights, and other such childish things.”

“Hardly seems childish,” I scoffed, “I grew up in a castle, after all-” I stopped myself short, realizing I had almost let on to a little more than I had intended. I quickly changed the subject. “I’ve never met an orc before- HALF orc,” I corrected again, shooting him a look which he chased off with a grin as he withheld his objection, “I hope they are not all as dense as you.”

Erramun gave another light chuckle, obviously more amused than insulted by my comment. “I think some are denser.” He rubbed his free hand at the short cropping of hair by his temple. “... But I have been accused of having a heavy skull.”

You could say that again. I grumbled silently to myself. Still, I couldn’t resist another peek at him over my shoulder. It could have been my imagination, but he seemed to be drooping more and more. And perhaps his voice was becoming a little weaker. I would have to get him someplace soon, or else I would be wrangling with an unconscious orc in the hallways of the goblin castle. I didn’t fancy my chances of managing such a feat, especially while continuing to remain unnoticed. I was good, but I wasn’t that good.

I made a point to hurry as fast as I could manage through the outer city to the outer wall of the castle proper. We approached the servant and delivery entrance at the far back side without being spotted. It was quiet for the time being, as all morning deliveries would have already been completed and staff should have all been on site no later than an hour or so after dawn. I quickly led them through the wrought iron gate, then around the back to a small yard fenced in by short stone walls. Perhaps it had been intended for a garden at one point, but it was mostly dirt now, save for one small tree and some sparse grass. I knew the servants often used it to park carts meant to be unloaded for the kitchen, rather than bringing things through the front entrances.

“Can you walk?” I asked him, closing another small gate behind us.

He grunted the affirmative, and ungracefully dismounted. Leaning heavily against the mare still as he tried to find his balance. I wondered if he was perhaps far too prideful to trust his assessment of his abilities, and quickly began to consider a few alternative options in case that were true. Though I couldn’t think of any truly plausible ones at that moment. Then I saw him hesitate, stroking the mare’s mane fondly.

“... Will she be alright here?”

I was surprised at the tenderness in his voice. He was so large, with such a harsh looking brow and jutting teeth. Even by goblin standards he seemed a little monstrous. Which made his tone seem all the more misplaced, and I had to resist the urge to look around for a different source. I glanced over at the mare quietly instead as he gently stroked her thick white neck.

“... I’ll come down later to bring her to the stables.” I assured him. “But first, we need to get you up to the tower before you pass out.”

“The tower?” He echoed, giving the mare a final pat and staggering after me as I made my way to the servant’s door at the far side of the yard.

“You have a lot of questions for someone who has no options.” I grumbled, shouldering open the door and ducking through it. “Or perhaps you are actually half parrot as well as orc?” I put a little extra effort into pretending his irritating habit of echoing my words was the only reason I was so hesitant to answer his prying.

He chuckled, but didn’t answer either. Once through the door I turned to watch the orc scrunch his body up, bowing low at the waist and curling his wide shoulders, with his hands practically on the ground to balance himself. He slunk through the small doorway with a grunt. Once inside, he was barely able to straighten himself, his head bumping into the ceiling.

“... Is the whole building like this?” He asked a few yards down after the fifth low hanging lamp clunked him on the head.

I stifled a giggle, amused at his perturbed look as he rubbed at the side of his skull indignantly. He had to keep his head cocked to the side at an odd angle to keep from scraping the ceiling with each step. I pretended I wasn’t looking though as his emerald eyes swung back around, ducking through another particularly low frame. There was nothing to look at, after all, I reminded myself. Just a bloody half-orc who wanted to marry the Princess...

“These are the servant’s quarters.” I told him, unable to completely keep my amusement from my voice. “But it is a goblin castle after all. Most things are goblin sized.”

He grumbled again, opening his mouth to offer a retort. I quickly held up my hand, then brought my finger to my lips. Silencing him as a small gaggle of goblins passed us by, talking noisily among themselves. I waited until they were around the next corner, then turned back to the half-orc behind me. I tapped my lips again, then gestured for him to follow me.

We made our way through the rest of the castle almost without incident. Erramun got wedged in the narrow stairwell from the servants’ quarters to the main floor, but a bit of wiggling had him loose with only a few extra wasted minutes. Once there, the ceilings and hallways were a little larger, and I heard him sigh with palpable relief as he was able to straighten more comfortably. I led him as quickly as we were able. Skirting past guards and down side hallways to avoid the servants and guests. Luckily, I knew every nook and cranny by heart; I had spent every summer and winter here since I was nine years old. And had loved nothing more than to explore its vast expanse. The castle was huge, and intricately constructed. There were hundreds of rooms, at least as many hallways, and more than a few exciting features to keep an adventurous young spirit entertained. Goblins used magic nearly as often as they used conventional decoration and construction methods, and the castle was filled with enchantments. From doorways that opened by themselves, to moving mosaics and paintings, to candelabras that flared to life when you passed, to seemingly solid walls that one could walk right through. There was no shortage of things to astound. And that was just the castle! This didn’t even hold a candle to the massive goblin city in the tunnels and passageways beneath it.

It was also helpful that I was intimately familiar with the castle’s routine; when the servants changed the bedsheets or did the wash, when the guards made their rounds, when the nobles came to the drawing room for drinks and cards. The general bubbly air of the castle was almost infectious, and I couldn’t help smiling at the laughter and music that echoed down almost every hallway. Delicious smells filled the air as the cooks prepared the mid-day meal, and I heard the occasional clatter and clash of other servants cleaning or tidying.

A peek at Erramun found both his eyes and his mouth wide as he took it all in. I remembered fondly my own first time walking the halls, and I smiled warmly at the memory. I watched him crane his neck back to look at the intricate mosaics on the ceilings, then down to the floor to consider the no less than three to seven different rugs running the length of each hallway. Niko had done his best to instill a bit of order on the palace since he had moved in over a decade before. But goblins would be goblins, and they loved patterns and colors. To them, the more made the merrier, and their décor was absolutely overflowing with it. Curtains and lace and frills. Decadent chandeliers and sculptures and vases. Gold and silver, copper and bronze. Lapis lazuli, ruby, emerald, diamond, onyx, opal, sapphire. Anything and everything imaginable lined the walls and poured into the hallways themselves. It was a bit cluttered, and certainly overwhelming if you weren’t used to it. But each piece shone and sparkled, and the halls felt warm, clean, and welcoming despite being mostly dimly lit. Goblins could see in the dark, after all.

I wondered briefly if orcs shared this trait. If I recalled my history correctly, orcs and goblins shared an ancient common ancestor. I didn’t have an enchantment on my eyes as Niko did, but I had become rather adept at moving about in dimly lit places. And with more non-goblins wandering the halls these days, there were more sources of light than in the past. I burned with curiosity to know how Erramun’s half-orc blood affected his sight. But it was something that would have to be an investigation for later, as I felt silence was the key factor for our stealth through the castle. Thankfully, even if the half-orc had more questions, he kept them to himself for the time being, and followed behind me obediently. Perhaps sensing urgency and silence were key. Or perhaps lacking the strength or presence of mind to have any questions to ask. That was a worrying thought, and I cast another glance over my shoulder to check on him. He gave me a sheepish grin and a little wave of his big hand. Alright for the time being then, I supposed, ignoring the little flutter in my chest at his smile.

We reached the upper levels a few minutes later, above ground and built to seemingly grow up into the sky out of the mountainside itself. Filled with windows to pour the bright winter sun through. And enchanted to have more space on the inside than it would appear to have by the outside, though its actual physical size was certainly no small measure. I almost sighed with relief. The tallest and largest towers had been quartered off for private use by the Royal family, and thus were off limits to guests and other outsiders. There would be less people wandering the halls up here; most of my relatives should be in the castle below going about their daily responsibilities. My nieces and nephews would be with their tutors, and Grier and Nikostratus would be handling affairs of state. It was possible there might be a servant or two finishing up tidying the rooms from the morning, I reasoned. But for the most part that would have already been managed after the goblin King had finally been roused for the day. Likely no more than an hour or so before our arrival. My goblin brother-in-law was perhaps the farthest thing from a morning person possible, preferring to rise no earlier than noon if allowed, despite the fact that his husband was usually up at dawn every day. Being early risers was a trait my brothers and I all shared. But I was thankful that my timing was perfect for having returned at just the right time to have skirted running into either of the monarchs of this castle.

The upper floors also had the added advantage of being designed with human comfort in mind. It had taken less than a year for the goblins to realize that their new human King was much taller than any of them, and having door frames and handles set to goblin height was painfully uncomfortable for him (not that he would ever complain of course). They had adjusted many of the lower levels to be more accessible by both races in light of this (though still heavily favoring the smaller goblins). But our private quarters were almost a full foot taller than any of the others, with taller and wider doors, and handles set at almost waist level. The bottoms of the windows came to at least our hips as well, and the ceilings were at least 8 or more feet high. Certainly it was a relief to a stiff back to be able to come here at the end of a long day reaching for things closer to our knees than our hips and finally be able to straighten and relax our spines. I resisted the urge to stretch mine, as I usually did once I reached the top step, and settled with checking over my shoulder to see if Erramun had made it up the last flight of stairs.

He had, though sweat had broken across his brow, and his big eyes looked quite drained and tired. I jerked my head down the hall as he slowly raised his gaze to mine, panting lightly.

“Almost there.” I assured him. “Just down this hall.”

He managed a small grin, affirmative but tired, and nodded. I hoped he could hold out for the last few yards. I didn’t fancy trying to drag him the rest of the way to my chambers. I gestured for him to follow me, and turned to lead again. I had already started to relax, feeling a small, smug sense of accomplishment at having managed to sneak an orc of all things undetected through the castle.

So I nearly squeaked with surprise when we rounded the corner to find the door to my room unexpectedly ajar. And through it, I could just make out the shoulders of an all too familiar frame.

I quickly scrambled backwards, and found myself running into Erramun’s larger form. I didn’t have time to care about my body bumping awkwardly into his. I spun, placing both hands on his chest and giving him an urgent shrug. I thanked whatever god was listening that he responded effectively and without a word. Letting me half-push, half-steer him a few feet back down the hallway, though his eyes widened and his face became a mask of confusion as I did. A cold chill washed down my spine as I heard the familiar click of fine black boots on the tiled floor behind us. Then the creak of my door followed by the soft thunk as he pulled it closed behind him. But as we rounded the corner, I heard a soft feminine hum coming from the opposite direction, and my blood ran cold as well. I yanked the half-orc to a stop, nearly knocking him off balance in the process, spinning and searching the hall frantically. Knowing there would be no way to skirt both parties without detection and searching for the nearest hiding spot. I saw only one choice, short of throwing us both out the window, and decided quickly to utilize it.

I shoved Erramun into a small curtained alcove right at the bend of the rounded hall unceremoniously, and popped in right after. Settling the curtain back into place behind me. It was a tight fit with the big orc, and his shoulders shuffled aside the contents of the cupboard with a soft scuffle. But I found if I pressed my shoulders into his broad chest, I could just manage to keep myself from brushing against the covering curtain and my toes from popping out the bottom. I deftly caught the handle of a displaced broom as it started to topple, righting it and laying it lightly against the wall beside us before it’s fall would alert the pair in the hallway beyond. Then I strained my ears and listened to the fast approaching click of boots as well as the soft hum from the opposite direction.

“Ah, cara Hausa, I hope you are well,” came my brother’s voice in goblinese, and my spine stiffened at the sound nervously, “Have you seen the Princess of late?” I heard him ask after a brief exchange of formalities. “She is not in her rooms.”

“I am sorry, My King,” Came the reply, and I recognized the old head housekeeper Hausa’s distinctive, airy voice, “I have not seen her today, though I believe her Ladies went to town... Should I send the servants to search for her?”

“That won’t be necessary,” He replied, his voice its usual stiff and formal tone, “I am sure she will turn up soon. Thank you, cara Hausa.”

Their voices and footsteps slowly faded back towards the stairwell, and I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief I had withheld before. Allowing me a moment to bring myself back up to speed and assess our situation. I turned around to apologize to Erramun for his decidedly rough treatment... and found myself perfectly planted against his bare chest.

My heart leaped, and my eyes widened by a hair. I couldn’t help craning my neck back to look up at him (it was either that or stare at his well defined pectoral muscles), and found his emerald eyes waiting for me. It was then that I realized, somewhere amid the frantic shuffle, I had become quite neatly tucked against him in the cramped space. His free arm was wrapped around my waist, his broad shoulders hunched around me to better fit us both into the tiny alcove. One of my hands rested lightly on his arm, as if ready to pull him about again if needed, and the other hovered barely a hair away from his bare sternum. I felt a tightness in my chest I couldn’t remember having been there before, and froze in place. Trapped in those vibrant emerald eyes…

After a few skittering beats of my heart, I felt my brain quickly flood back into my skull. My eyes widened a hair more, and I shoved myself away from him. Tangling myself in the curtain behind me and upsetting the cleaning supplies behind him in the process. Nearly falling out into the hallway beyond as he nearly fell over into the wash bucket. I quickly righted myself, pushing the curtain to the side and noisily clearing my throat.

“Ah… S-sorry about that…” I mumbled, swallowing hard as my face flushed dark. I saw him nod slowly out the corner of my eye, otherwise silent as he righted himself. It took me a decidedly long time to remember what we had been doing before that moment. I turned, wrapping my arms about myself. “...This way.”

I skittered down the hall, glancing nervously about. As if my brother might still pop out from any corner. But the final stretch was empty, and I nearly sighed with relief as I shoved open the door to my rooms and quickly ushered Erramun inside. Trying not to remember how wonderfully warm his large arm had felt wrapped around my waist. And strong too, nearly as firm as stone. I quickly shook my head, latching the door behind me and forcing my thoughts to the issue at hand. Well, the bigger issue rather; that I now had successfully smuggled in a bloody and dirty orc into my private quarters.

My chambers had three rooms. The door from the hallway led to a sitting area, with a large fireplace and plush purple couches. The walls were lined with shelves, which were stuffed full of books, tomes, and scrolls. Most of which depicted the many adventures I longed to partake in. Others were atlases, or maps of the surrounding regions. A few were filled with ancient, unsolved mysteries or legends. Some had cultural histories, or descriptions of fantastical creatures and races. On the largest flat wall, I had tacked up an inked map of the world Grier and Niko had gifted me long ago. It was intricately detailed and enchanted so that the squiggly lines denoting the ocean rippled and the mountainous regions had swirly clouds shifting over their peaks. It also looked three dimensional, though it was in fact flat, and I had poked colorful pins and bobbles into the places I most wanted to visit. My desk was set beneath it, with stacks of papers and notes regarding each pin or region as well as small decorative boxes filled with things I had found exploring the castle and woods surrounding it. There was also a small table set before the couches, and a few chests filled with whatever I hadn’t been able to fit elsewhere. Sextants, small carvings, handmade memorabilia from far off lands my brothers and other nobles had gifted me. A few stuck out from the edges of the elegant chests, spilling like treasure onto the floor below.

Beyond the sitting room was my bed chamber, which had little aside from the large bed with thick velvet curtains and a big armoire stuffed to bursting with my clothes. There was also a vanity table, where I kept brushes and perfumes, gems and jewels, and other such things that were mostly left to gather dust. There was also a window seat, surrounded by piles of books I was currently working my way through, and a small balcony where I kept various potted plants. Many were also from far off lands carefully brought for my collection, though I knew my brother kept a far more extensive garden in the glass domed balcony above his chambers.

The final room was the smallest of the three, and contained a single deep pool with a small, crystal encrusted waterfall. It had a small alcove of mirrors set before a raised platform by the door to the bedroom, and a small stone table carved into the wall with a few brushes and other such personal care items. I had filled most of that room with potted plants as well, as sunlight filtered in through stained glass over the partially steepled ceiling. I used to imagine it as a magical lagoon when I was younger, though it had much more practical uses for me now.

I rested my forehead against the door for a moment with relief. Finally feeling a little calmer now that the worst was behind us. When I turned, I found the half-orc looking about curiously. His eyes wide and filled with wonder. I wasn’t sure why. There was nothing particularly special about my rooms. They were smaller than the other members of the family, mostly because I only lived here for part of the year. And also because I rarely spent more than a rainy afternoon in them.

“Sit down,” I ordered him, removing my cloak from my shoulders and draping over the back of the couch, “Let’s see if we can get your wound properly cleaned before infection sets in.”

“Who were they?” He asked as he slowly settled into the indicated seat; an old ottoman at the back of one couch.

“Who was who?” I asked absentmindedly, shuffling some things around in a brief attempt to clean the clutter. I gave up after another moment, simply kicking it all off to the side and gathering up a shallow porcelain basin from on top of one of the chests.

“The people, out there,” He nodded to the door and the hallway beyond, “They spoke funny. It sounded like Tlaloc, but it was all wrong.”

I hesitated, debating whether or not to tell him the truth for a moment. “They were speaking goblinese. The woman was Hausa, the head housekeeper for the Royal family.” I explained finally, “... The man was King Nikostratus…. What’s tlaloc?” I asked, quickly looking to change the subject.

Erramun chewed on his lip for a moment. “Eh? Oh… That’s what orcs speak.” I felt his eyes following me as I gathered some linens into the basin next. “... You said King Nicktosansus?”

I couldn’t suppress a small giggle. “Nikostratus.” I corrected him, collecting a pitcher of water in my free hand as I balanced the basin on my opposite hip.

He grunted, shaking his head. “Why do all the Kings here have such big names?” He grumbled. “King Vale-whatsits, King Nitostrawsus.”

“King Valerianus and King Nikostratus.” I corrected him good naturedly. “And that’s probably because they are brothers, I would think.” I carefully set the basin on the seat beside him, then went over to hoist a small side table and carry over. “Big long names are a bit of a tradition in the family.”

“Hmmm, seems silly.” He returned. “By the time I finish saying their names and titles, I could have said much more important things.”

I almost laughed. “You sound like Grier.”

“Grier?” He asked curiously.

I kicked myself internally for the slip, pursing my lips slightly as I set the table beside him and moved the basin to its top. “... King Grier, I should say.” I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. “That’s King Nikostratus’ husband. The goblin King.”

“So he is the goblin Princess’ father?” His voice reflected his piqued interest with a lighter tone. “I thought King Valer-whatsits might be her father, but he’s not a goblin, and they say he is her brother.”

I hesitated again, pouring some water into the basin and dropping one of the linens in. Exactly how much should I share? At what point would he figure it out?

“Ah… it’s… complicated.” I offered finally, ringing out the cloth distractedly. “But their father is dead.” I thumbed the cloth for a moment. “Long dead. It's just the three of them now.”

Erramun snorted, shaking his head. “Three Kings? There are too many Kings!” He complained. “Just tell me which one I need to challenge for the Princess.”

My head snapped over to him in surprise. “Challenge??”

He nodded eagerly, and the light in his eyes spreading from a broad smile over his lips. “Yes! After I convince her to marry me, I must defeat her father in combat to win the Princess. Though I suppose one of these Kings will have to do.” He leaned back, seeming to mull that over. “I think a goblin would be easiest to best, but there would be no real challenge in it.”

Anger flared up in me. “What makes you think you can just win her?” I snapped. “Is the Princess just some trophy to you??”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “That is just the way of things.” He argued. “A man finds his partner, then has to prove he would be a good husband. The best way to do that is to defeat their father in combat.” He nodded assuredly. “That way they both know he is strong enough to-”

“That sounds stupid.” I cut him off crossly, putting my hands on my hips and scowling at him.

He frowned back at me, his heavy brow scrunching together. “That is the way of things!”

“For orcs, maybe!” I shot back. “But you can’t just carry off whomever you like! Just muscle your way into a marriage and force someone’s hand!”

That gave him pause, and he looked me up and down. We were almost perfectly eye level with him sitting. I watched him chew his lip again, seeming to think it over quietly.

“... This is not how goblins do it?”

I scoffed again. “Absolutely not!” I snapped. “Nor humans!”

He fell silent again. And I glared at him for a long, angry moment before tossing up my hands with a frustrated tch. I stomped over to another chest, kicking it open and digging through it for a moment.

“... How do I win the goblin Princess then?” He asked after a little while.

I shot him a scalding look over my shoulder. “You don’t. The Princess is not for sale, nor for winning. She doesn’t want to marry anyone. Ever. Period. End of discussion.” I slammed the chest shut, having not found what I was looking for yet, and stomped past him over to the next. “So after I wrap up your stupid cut, you’d best shove off. Agreed?”

I was stopped short as his big hand came out. Catching my arm and stilling me. I was so surprised, my eyebrows flew up, and I looked at him with wide eyes. His face was soft, recalcitrant. He chewed on his thick bottom lip for another moment before finally looking up at me with those dazzling emerald eyes.

“I am sorry, Gana,” He told me, his thick voice heavier with his sullen apology, “I did not mean to upset you…” He grunted, giving my arm a gentle tug. Pulling me a step closer to him before I had fully realized what he was doing. “If this was an orc, I would better know what to do. I could take them hunting with me, or maybe cook a beast I had killed myself.” I looked down at him, his broad chin craned up slightly to keep our eyes locked. “I do not know how to impress a King, or a Princess.” He scoffed slightly, finally releasing my arm and looking away. “I have not even met her yet and I have already failed.”

I rubbed at my arm where his hand had been, frozen in place with my confusion. “... It doesn’t matter.” I told him, a bit bitterly. “Like I said… The Princess isn’t interested in getting married.”

I turned and walked more quietly over to the chests. Pulling it open more carefully and digging through its contents. The silence stretched for a long, strained moment. I pulled out a few glass jars of healing balm, laying them on the floor by my knees as I put the other things back into place.

“.... What is she interested in, then?”

I couldn’t suppress a soft laugh, shaking my head. “So now you want to know more about her?” I scoffed, standing with my bounty and making my way back over. “Maybe that was something you should have thought of before you decided to marry her?”

He shrugged his big green shoulders noncommittally, then winced as it stretched his wound. “I mean, I didn’t think it was important…”

I raised a brow at him, dropping the supplies on the bench beside him. “It’s not important to know anything about the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with?”

He frowned, his thick lip wobbling about his small tusks as he seemed to chew that over. “I never thought of it like that…”

“How did you think of it then?” I asked, moving over to the basin once more. “Did you think you would see her for the first time and just… fall in love?”

Erramun fell silent, his brow furrowing deeply again. I soaked the cloth, wringing it out briefly before turning to him. I was surprised to find him still quiet, obviously lost in thought. I cocked one hip to the side, looking him up and down. His emerald green eyes glanced over at my movement.

“Don’t think too hard,” I advised, “You’ll make smoke come out of your ears.”

The big fellow gave a grunt that heaved the entirety of his torso up and down, then shook his head. I watched him for another moment, then glanced down at the wet cloth in my hands. Then back at him. My entire face starting to grow hot. After another tense moment, I tossed the cloth back into the basin.

“It’s no use, you’re filthy.” I told him irritatedly.

He cocked one large bushy brow up. “Does this bother you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Besides the fact that you stink, I mean that one measly little cloth is not going to be enough to clean all…” I hesitated, my hand halfway through gesturing over his muscular torso. I cleared my throat. “... That…”

Erramun gave me a dopey grin, leaning on his palms at the edge of his seat. “Perhaps I am too much a challenge for you then?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again, pretending my cheeks weren’t flushing dark at his words. I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. Scowling at him.

“You’ll have to bathe.” I jerked my head to the back room. “You know how to I hope?”

He gave a growl, then jerked himself clumsily to his feet. Forcing me to stagger back a step or two to avoid bumping into him as he did. I quickly rebalanced myself, letting my scowl deepen as I had to tilt my head back to look up at him now.

“I think I can manage.” He mused, then glanced over at the door.

“Good.” I grumbled, crossing my arms and looking off to the side to avoid staring at his broad chest again. “You do that. I’ll see if I can find you something to wear.”

“Something to wear?” He echoed, surprised.

“Definitely part parrot.” I snipped at him. “Yes, fool orc. Something to wear. Your skirt is filthy, and you stand out like a sore thumb as you are.”

He seemed to consider this, rubbing his furs between a thumb and finger. “And that would be a bad thing, yes? ... Your men do not wear their skins as this?”

I shook my head. “No. But,” I paused, looking him over, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find anything big enough…” I slipped past him, walking over to the door to the bathing rooms and sliding it open. “I don’t suppose you can avoid drowning for now while I go look for something?”

His grin returned, and I stiffened slightly at the sight of it. “I think I can manage.” He replied again. Then tilted his head to the side. “... Will you be long?”

It took me longer than I cared to admit to find my breath again. The way he asked… made it sound almost hopeful. I swallowed the dryness from my throat, shrugging my shoulders.

“I make no promises.” I returned, as airy as I could manage, and he chuckled. Sluggishly striding over and pausing at the opposite side of the door. I saw him glance in briefly, before returning his attention to me.

“I will wait for you then, Gana. As long as you need.”

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding as he slipped past me into the rooms. I intended to turn and head back out to scour the Royal quarters for clothes large enough to fit an orc. But couldn’t help lingering an extra moment as I watched him unfasten the strap to his pauldron. He rubbed at his wounded side as he dropped the scanty armor onto the stone floor, then glanced over his shoulder at me. I quickly pretended I had merely been double checking the towel situation by the door. Turning to make my way back out when his voice came once more and gave me pause.

“... When you return, perhaps we can speak more about what the Princess is like?”

The sliding door made a satisfying snap as I forcibly shut it behind me.

UPDATE: Part Four HERE

#Burdened by the Stars #slow burn #frenemies #angst #monster romance #regency romance #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #orc #half-orc #orc lover #orc boyfriend #orc x human #terato #exophilia

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itubainaretro · 4 years

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oh no, don’t mind me, i’m just out here thinking about a parallel universe in which robbe is a tik toker and sander is his best friend that always appears on his tik toks because he’s an angel like that and can’t ever say no to robbe so he always goes along with whatever robbe wants them to do

and the thing is: robbe’s had a crush on sander since forever but he doesn’t know how to tell him so one day he decides to go to hell with it and film the electric love challenge when they’re chilling in sander’s room and altough sander’s always on robbe’s tik toks he doesn’t have one so he has no idea what the challenge is so when robbe presses play and the song starts playing sander goes along with it, bopping his head to the song, lip syncing it because he knows the lyrics, practically serenading robbe, making him smile dumbly at him even though he’s a nervous wreck because he’s about to kiss his best friend and he’s afraid this will ruin everything, but he musters up enough courage and as soon as the song goes “and all i need is to be struck by your electric love” robbe comes closer and kisses sander and sander pulls back because he’s surprised and robbe wants to die because this is it, this is where their friendship ends and he’s already thinking about how he’ll apologise when he looks up and sander’s smilling, his eyes going from robbe’s eyes to his mouth, up and down countless times, and he thinks he’s never seen sander look at him like that and he doesn’t know what’s going on but then suddenly sander’s hand is coming up to his cheek, angling his face up, closer, cradling his face like he’s something precious, and he kisses robbe again and robbe feels like he’s in heaven and maybe he’s about to pass out and this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he wants to wrap himself up in this feeling, in sander, in how much love he feels for this boy right here and the feeling is obviously mutual because sander can’t let go of him once their lips finally touch again, moving his hand to the back of robbe’s head, playing with the hair there, then touching his neck, smiling into the kiss, softly biting his lip before pulling back and resting his forehead against robbe’s once they’re too out of breath to keep properly kissing

they only remember the tik tok they were filiming some time later, when they’re laying in bed, side by side, trying to get their lungs back to functioning properly after spending way too much time making out after they confessed their feelings to each other and became official boyfriends, and robbe’s phone vibrates against sander’s thigh, where it ended up with how much they moved around on his bed, and he hands it to robbe and robbe smiles at it, seeing the video playing on an endless loop on the screen and asks him if he should post it or not. sander says he has no problem with robbe doing so and if he feels like it he might as well post it. robbe doesn’t have that many followers so he presses the button, posts it, checks his messages, locks his phone and goes back to laying down with sander, accepting cuddles and kisses and settling in for the night

the video blows up, of course it does, and he gains thousands of followers after that, robbe and sander becoming everyone’s favourite tik tok couple, even though robbe’s the only one with an actual account

they make the most out of it and film the most ridiculous tik toks, just to indulge everyone and each other, incluinding one where robbe tries to teach sander how to skate and another one where they try to get on robbe’s skate jumping together, falling down countless times before they finally succeed and land on it perfectly; one of robbe on his way to annoy sander while the first notes of where is the love? by the black eyed peas plays and he goes jumping around to the beat of the song; one where robbe calls sander bro just to see his reaction and sander calls him bro back and they end up the video laughing out loud; and also one where robbe’s looking at the camera with a sad face while saying “so my boyfriend told me he doesn’t love me anymore today” and sander saying off screen “baby, i did not tell you this”, so robbe turns the camera around and films sander rolling his eyes when he says “then what did you tell me?” “i told you we couldn’t get a dog, at least not now” and the camera goes back to robbe’s face when he says “same thing”

sometimes sander steals robbe’s phone and films some cute tik toks too, because he got sucked into that world now but he still refuses to have an account of his own, and he films some challenges because he wants to see robbe’s reaction to them, like the one where sander interrupts robbe playing videogame with his friends to cuddle him and robbe’s reaction is the cutest thing ever, dropping the controller as soon as sander settles down on his lap, taking his headphones off and hugging sander back asking “you okay, baby?” and dropping a kiss to his head when sander nods; or the one where sander opens the blanket in front of robbe and as soon as robbe sees it he jumps in bed with sander, showering him in kisses and cuddling him saying “best thing ever after a long day, i love you”; or one where sander and robbe are facetiming and sander pretends to fall asleep while robbe’s playing some game and his reaction is the softest when he looks down at sander and double checks when he realises he fell asleep, pausing the game and screenshotting the moment, with sander looking all cuddled up in his blankets and robbe looking stupid in love with his boy; an lastly one where they’re just being total goofs dancing around with each other in the middle of a desert street late at night and when it starts raining they stay there, still dancing and kissing each other while it pours down rain, making everyone go soft at the movie like scene

later on they decide to turn robbe’s account into a sobbe one - giving into the ship name their followers gave them back then, when they were just best friends doing stupid tik toks for a laugh

so yeah, don’t mind me

#wtfock #wtfam #robbe x sander #yeah don’t mind me i just got sucked back into tik tok this week and i’m emo

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devilsskettle · 4 years

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so earlier i said i was thinking about the significance of smoking in twin peaks so.... let’s get into it. i was thinking about the part in fire walk with me where laura’s mother tells her not to start smoking as she’s standing there with a cigarette making no discernible effort to break her own habit - 1) continuation of the theme that sarah is somewhat complicit in what’s happening in her home by turning a blind eye basically, 2) laura picks up this habit from her which lines up with the themes of generational trauma and parents passing on their problems to their kids.

also the scene with the briggs family before laura’s funeral - bobby, who is in mourning! for his dead girlfriend!! is smoking at the dinner table and his father slaps him across the face, and i know the show frame major briggs in a positive light after that point but that is literally physical abuse. and his mother sits there and sees that happen and doesn’t say anything. so i think we see again 1) smoking as a coping mechanism, 2) smoking linked with abusive parents

also! the first interaction we see between shelly and leo is his jealous interrogation of her based on what kind of cigarettes are in the ashtray. he tries to gain ownership over her by isolating her and controlling her down to the brand of cigarette she smokes. need i say more

obviously one of the other characters who smokes a lot on the show is audrey - her narrative in the first season acts as a parallel to laura’s, and also her father is.... yeah. self explanatory.

the other scene i’m thinking of doesn’t relate to abuse but it does relate to smoking as a coping mechanism and passing along harmful traits - the scene where donna visits james in prison. in the beginning of season 2, donna also becomes a parallel to laura. she’s given her sunglasses and starts smoking, imitating her actions when she started getting into more sketchy shit. so like. the ways laura copes with abuse are self-destructive, from seeking out dangerous sexual encounters to substance abuse, and smoking also falls into this category (when she finds out that it’s her father who is abusing her, she goes to donna’s house and is very preoccupied with being able to smoke, so that’s pretty illustrative that it is a coping mechanism and not like. an aesthetic choice by the directors or something lol). donna also uses this rhetoric, saying she only smokes when she’s tense. but she also highlights the cyclical and transitory nature of trauma and unhealthy ways of dealing with it - “since when did you get so tense?” “since i started smoking” - the solution exacerbates the problem (it’s a cycle) and she’s picking it up from laura (it’s passed along). i think it also speaks to the way that people who are trapped in bad situations often turn to self destructive behavior to regain a sense of control (i.e. if i’m going to be hurt anyway i want to be the one doing the hurting) or substance use - smoking falls under both categories imo

(i read somewhere that the writers were planning to do more with laura’s clothing getting passed down to others but it got scrapped - we do see it with the sunglasses though and a little bit in fwwm. but yeah i think that demonstrates that transference or like. the residual nature of trauma - i’m also thinking about the scene where donna visits laura’s grave and says that even though she’s dead, her problems are still problems, like they “didn’t bury [her] deep enough” - so i think if they had kept that residual black lodge energy or whatever they were planning on doing, it would emphasize that theme of being haunted by trauma. like someone can experience something so horrible that it never goes away. shit, now i’m really really sad)

and obviously it’s FIRE walk with me, so.... yeah. smoking is linked with the black lodge i think (and since the black lodge = suffering, it’s people who are the cause or the victim of suffering). if i rewatch the series soon, which i may or may not get around to, i’d like to keep an eye on who does or doesn’t smoke because i can’t remember off the top of my head. some characters like catherine and ben horne smoke and inflict suffering, some are caught up in some sketchy shit like josie (she’s kind of perpetrator and victim in a way) and gordon (the blue rose project is all sketchy shit lmao), some (mentioned already) are victims of other people’s violence and abuse

anyway. that kind of got away from me but i hope it’s somewhat coherent. i don’t think i really covered this topic so i’d love to hear more thoughts about it <3

#someone’s probably pointed this out already but i haven’t seen anything about it so...#twin peaks #i have an actual essay for an actual class that i am in dire straits with and yet. here i am. writing about twin peaks again

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criminalminds4days · 4 years

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Let Him Go (S.R.)

Hello Friends!!

I am doing finals so I decided the best choice for me was to write a long Spencer Reid Fanfiction. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: None, except mentions of murder, and violence. Swear words.

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“I don’t know what you want me to say.” The words came out before she could think them through. She knew exactly what he needed because she wanted it too, but she just couldn’t say it, it frightened her.

“Really? You don’t know what to say?” He scoffed, ready to give up all hope. “I love you; I’ve loved you for years… I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you, but I need to know if that is something that’s ever gonna happen. I can’t keep going like this, I am done playing games, I am done going in a circle.” He was hurt, his brown eyes reflected it perfectly, the tears that threaten to escape him almost made her break.

Almost.

“I can’t give you what you want.” It was true, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to, of course, she wanted to grow old with him, wake up next to him every single day, but the fear that engulfed her, of one day him realizing he could do much better and walking up and leaving, that was enough to ground her.

She wasn’t ready. She repeated to herself, hoping one day it would be believable.

“Then I guess that settles it.” His voice broke, knowing full well what this meant for them, “I can’t keep doing this and you can. We are simply not at the age where it’s for fun. I need stability, I need a partner who knows what they want in a relationship and that is obviously not you.” A sole tear left his face, hiding underneath his chin. “I really wish it was.” He mumbled as he left the room. There it was, the image she feared so much, caused solely by her actions, it was better now than later, she reminded herself but that did not make the heartbreak any less painful.

Spencer Reid, her colleague, friend, and for the past three years, her lover. They had met in 2005, after she had joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, quickly bonding over their shared love for books, despite her hatred of some of the classics, as they were often referred to. Soon enough, those brown eyes, that awkward smile, and his tall figure had become engraved in her brain to the point in which she could no longer ignore it. She kissed him and that was the best decision she had ever made.

For three years they had been happy, and it seemed to everybody that soon enough they would be engaged, married, and with kids. When the conversation of this possible future arose between them, she couldn’t help but panic, leading to their current situation. He had left her, and she regretted every minute she didn’t run after him. She was going to run after him, she really was but as soon as her hand touched the doorknob she stopped herself.

Fear.

It was stupid, she knew it was, but it was paralyzing her in place, preventing her from ever reaching for that happy family she hoped to have with him one day.

Years went by, her regret never subsiding.

Why was she there?

It was clear this was a mistake; she knew it was. He was getting married and she simply sat there, wishing it was her who he smiled at, who he was gonna have a family with. Nonetheless, there she was, watching the man she loved get married, while she remembered that day, five years ago, in which she let him go. She smiled at the couple and congratulated them. She toasted, danced, smiled, laughed, and joked all while her heart was being torn to pieces at the sight of the happy newlyweds. That was the moment she decided she couldn’t stay. The offer she had been considering finally making sense. It was time to leave the BAU, time to leave the heartbreak, and time to leave Spencer Reid for good. She hoped the woman he was marrying would be horrible, that she could hate her, but Maeve Donovan was anything but. She was a kind soul, smart beyond reason, with all truthfulness, she could just see how she made Spencer happy and that was enough to eradicate all hope for hate.

Starting over was painful, saying goodbye was painful, but it was necessary. When he asked what prompted her decision she said, “I think I need to take the next step in my life.” He nodded and wished her nothing but the best and she smiled, not wanting to tell him she felt she had already lost it. When she arrived at her new office in Paris, she couldn’t properly appreciate the fact that her dream home was now her actual home. Her room growing up had been filled with Eiffel towers, and by the age of twelve, she was fluent in the language of the city of love. Granted, it helped that her parents both spoke English and Spanish, so learning French was a breeze.

She began work and soon found herself so immersed in it, she didn’t realize there was a life she left behind, there were friends she had not contacted in years. It wasn’t until she saw Emily Prentiss and heard what happened that she realized just how much she had forgotten when she decided to leave. She allowed her old coworker to take her out of her comfort zone and soon enough she found herself dating a tall dark-haired man named Liam Gardner, that happened to work as an undercover agent, just like her. Was there something about dating coworkers that got to her? She laughed at the suggestion.

It had been a year since she had dated this man when he asked her, she was in the same position she had been almost a decade ago and the regret of that night, and how strongly she felt for the man in front of her, made her answer different. It made her realize he couldn’t lose him like she had lost Spencer. “Yes, I do want to marry you.” She found herself saying, and for once, her life was on track.

She wasn’t terrified, and that was her first mistake. She figured it out on their first anniversary, as she patiently waited for him at their favorite restaurant, the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance, and the diamond ring that never left her hand, unless she was within a job, reflected the lights of the establishment.

“Excuse moi, mademoiselle?” A man had approached her, and her gut told her something was wrong. Her husband had infiltrated an organization that sold kids around the world, he hated the idea more than anything, but didn’t give a second thought to the offer, he loved children and would do anything to make sure more kids were safe. He had been organizing a raid that would tear down the whole system two days ago and he would be home just in time for their anniversary. But something went wrong, the operation was messier than they expected, and he was caught in the crossfire.

He died a hero.

People reminded her, but that didn’t mean much when the man she loved was buried six feet under. Once again, she experienced the loss she was so afraid of, and once again he reminded herself how this was what she was destined for, and she was a fool to think otherwise.

How long had it been? A year since he passed? She wasn’t quite sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to take the ring off. Her phone rang and she almost didn’t recognize the voice on the other side “Hey, It’s me JJ.” Jennifer Jareau, one of her ex-coworkers spoke on the other side. She didn’t have much of a long history with JJ, but that was partly because of her history with Spencer, who happened to be the blonde woman on the other side of the phone’s best friend. Despite their estrangement, after the woman said “We need you” she immediately accepted and grabbed her bag, buying the first plane tickets available to her, letting Emily know where she was going. Once she was on the plane she realized she did not even know why she had been summoned by her old team.

“Catch me up.” Were the first words that she said to the people in front of her.

She wanted to say hello and maybe even hug them, but as soon as she saw them she knew she had to get down to business.

His voice came out so broken, so hurt that she couldn’t help but want to hug him how she used to. It had been almost five years since she last saw him, but underneath his longer hair, and his very visible facial hair and his overwhelmingly sad eyes, was the man she once loved. “It’s Maeve, she’s been kidnapped.” That phrase returned her to the present. “You are the best when it comes to stalker cases and I can’t even make a coherent thought, please help us.” She nodded, as if they didn’t already know she would do anything in her power for any of them, but especially the brunette.

She forced herself to not draw parallels between his situation and the night she lost her husband, but it was impossible not to, especially when she knew that everything was lost. They entered the warehouse after they heard the gunshot, to find them at odds. Spencer begging to take Maeve’s place and the woman holding his wife hostage questioning how much he was willing to give up for her. Too late she realized what was going to happen, too late did she aim and shoot, too late to change any outcome but the one in front of their eyes. Her shot was wasted, landing on the wall directly behind the woman who now laid on the floor, covered in her and Reid’s wife's blood, both of them gone. She couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing she couldn’t stop her, knowing it was her fault Spencer’s wife was dead.

She couldn’t say goodbye and she couldn’t look him in the eye every again, so she sent a simple text to Hotch:

I got a case, I had to leave. Tell Reid I am really sorry.

That was it, no goodbye, no see you guys later, no hugs, and no catching up. She should have stayed home, she shouldn’t have gone knowing what she causes, once again she was reminded of the luck she carried around, affecting those she loved.

“It is not your fault!” Emily said.

“Of course it is, they needed me. Spencer and Maeve needed me, and I failed them.” She couldn’t stop the tears for much longer, but she tried.

“No, you didn’t you did everything you could.”

“Did I? Did I really? Because that’s what I tell myself every time I look at this ring and remember sitting in a restaurant wondering why he’s not there while he was dead. That’s what I told myself when I fired my gun too late to stop the woman even though I knew exactly what she was going to do.”

“Stop it! Stop blaming yourself for things you cannot control!” Emily stood from her chair, the frustration clear in her eyes. “I will not watch the closest friend I have throw a self-pity party when she knows full well these things are not something that our luck creates. There are sick people in this world, and you can’t keep blaming yourself for any of it! I will not allow you to!” After that, the woman left and the tears fell.

It had been at least three weeks since that discussion, Emily and she had made up but her friend had to go into hiding once again, knowing full well that the level of exposure she had because of their friendship could put her in danger, making her yet another person she couldn’t help. There was a knock at the door, and she presumed it was the woman mentioned, excited she opened the door to be faced with a tall brown-haired man with sad brown eyes and a satchel that she knew too well.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Hotch made me take time off, and I didn’t want to be alone… I didn’t know where to go and I just… I ended up here.”

“Oh.”

“Can I come in?”

She questioned it for a moment, not sure how she could deny him anything but also afraid of how her guilt would get the best of her. “Sure.” She said finally and moved, letting Spencer Reid enter her home like she had done so many times before, and yet this time it felt different. Her house was never the same after her husband was gone, their pictures still stayed, some in the coffee table and bookshelf, one of their wedding pictures in their room and album upon album he had made for their home once they had moved in together. Her new home gave a different feeling than her small impersonal apartment in Washington D.C. that had no pictures and barely enough evidence that someone lived there. She knew if it were up to her, the house would be the same, but Liam made sure this house felt like home. Now that he was gone it felt hollow and cold, not something she thought Spencer needed in his current state. “I am sorry I didn’t go to the funeral. I had to come back.” She absurdly excused herself.

“It’s okay, I understand.” There was a silence that engulfed them as she offered him a seat in her living room. “I don’t blame you.” He clarified and she nodded, not sure how that made her feel. “I also don’t think you should blame yourself.”

“Please stop, don’t profile me right now.” That gained a laugh from him, as he raised his hands in surrender. As he looked around realization hit her. He had no idea she was married, or that Emily Prentiss was, in fact, alive. She quickly texted her telling her friend that the man was in the city and to be careful. She knew it was probably safe, that she was already long gone but she couldn't be too cautious.

“You texting your…?” He looked at her hand, noticing the ring for the first time and she fought the urge to hide it. It somehow felt like a betrayal to him, her getting married after telling him that wasn’t something she was ready for. “Did you have that when you went to D.C.?”

“Yes.” She answered quicker than she hoped. “I’ve had it for a couple of years.” He nodded as if contemplating and analyzing her answer. “And I was not texting my husband, just a friend from work.”

“Oh.” He looked at her as if asking for permission before speaking. “Is he at work?” She shook her head no. “I didn’t interrupt you guys or anything, right? That would be so embarrassing… I can’t believe I didn’t even consider… I am so sorry I-“

“Spencer.” She stopped his rambling; she took a deep breath before she continued. “My husband, Liam, is not here.” She explained. Part of her didn’t want to talk about it, he had enough heartache of his own, but she felt compelled to. She never could hide anything from the genius. “He died in a raid about a year ago.” She said as her hand instinctively moved to her ring.

“I am so sorry.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“I-“ He paused for a moment, looking for something else to say, but then what he really wanted to know escaped his thoughts. “Does it get better?”

“I want to say yes. I want to tell you one day you stop missing them and it seems like the sun shines as bright again, but I haven’t gotten there.” A sad smile played on her lips. “I can’t even get myself to take his close out of the closet.”

“Yeah, I can’t look at her parents in the eye.”

“I haven’t spoken to his mother since the funeral.”

“We were trying to have kids.”

That was enough to break the mental boundaries she had. Despite how wrong she knew it was she hugged him, tight, hoping he understood that she wanted him to be okay, that he had her on his side even if that meant nothing to him.

“Sometimes, talking about them helps.” She said once she let go of him, his hand now in between hers. “I didn’t really get to know Maeve; I would love to hear about her.”

And so they sat there, sharing the stories of yet another loss love, the irony never lost on her. The one person she relied on to talk about Liam, the one person to fully understand how she felt was no other than her first love. She let aside the guilt and accepted the comfort and help he provided, even after he went back to Washington, and she remained in France. They still talked, almost daily. Letters, emails—despite him hating emails—and calls. Soon enough it was like they never lost touch like their past relationship never was and they were two friends who lost the person they loved and found comfort within each other.

And after two years she realized that her heart raced every time her phone rang, a tad of guilt for the idea of falling for the brunette while she still wore the wedding ring her late husband had given her. She considered putting it away, she considered telling Spencer what she was feeling once again but the fear stopped her. She couldn’t ruin something so important, she couldn’t sabotage their friendship, but she knew what it was like to be loved by Spencer Reid, and boy did she want to feel that way again. It took her weeks to decide what she was going to do, but before she had a chance to execute her plan, her keeping of Emily’s secret came back to haunt her.

“You knew?!”

“She came to Paris, and she found me.”

“And you never thought to mention it?”

“Emily was long gone into hiding when you and I reconnected.”

“That is not an excuse.”

“It wasn’t my place Spencer.”

“It never is your place, is it?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that with you I always know what I am getting into, but I am always stupid enough to fall for it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“I wasn’t the one who looked for you!” She spat, trying to hide the effect his words had on her. “Do not make this my fault!”

“I’m not.” His voice was harsh, like that day it all went wrong for the first time. “It’s my fault. For trusting you, for thinking we could be friends. I should know better than to trust a liar.”

“Fuck you, Spencer!”

“Right back at ya!”

And with that, the two years of their rekindling were gone, and once again she watched Spencer Reid walk out of her life. Once again faced with the decision of letting him go or stopping him. As her finger hovered over the call button she froze, this time not by fear, but anger. She understood, he lost his wife and friend, he mourned their death for one of them to suddenly come back to life? It wasn’t fair to him, but it wasn’t her fault! Spencer couldn’t blame her for Emily needing to hide from them, for Emily asking JJ, Hotch, and her to keep it a secret.

I heard the conversation; I’ll talk to him.-Emily

She got ready for bed and pushed aside the feeling of guilt that wished to overwhelm her. This time it wasn’t her fault, she knew it, but she couldn’t help but wish he knew that as well. Instead, she simply responded to the message and turned off her phone.

Don’t bother, it’s not worth the trouble. Love you Em!

Doctor Spencer Reid was a force much too big for her heart and mind to handle. As much as she wished he could stop having such a big influence in her life, she highly doubted that would ever happen, so the least she could do was try and forget their conversation.

Despite her previous determination, she still hoped he would call, say that he was sorry and he didn’t mean those things then she could simply accept his apology, apologize for her language and everything would go back to normal. But as the days turned to weeks and those to months she decided she couldn’t be at this crossroad waiting for him anymore. She could either let him go for good or finally step up and speak to him. The idea of never speaking to him, never hearing him laugh or seeing him smile again, never saying his name, or hearing hers out of his mouth was too much for her to simply move on. She loved Spencer Reid, maybe a part of her always would. She couldn’t let herself stay put while he moved on, not again. They were no longer two twenty-seven-year-olds who had their life ahead of them.

But the fear struck again, she couldn’t lose him too. She couldn’t sit in a restaurant waiting for him just to be greeted by the news that he was no longer in this world. She couldn’t build a home with someone when she had barely taken down all of Liam’s things from their closet. She couldn’t, but part of her wanted to build something with the doctor. That same part of her that screamed at her to follow him the first time. This time she decided to listen to it. She painfully removed the ring in her hand and placed it in the top box, all full of the memories of the man she intended to spend her life with, hoping he would understand. She let a couple of tears fall, knowing that he would always hold a place in her heart, and she made her way to the US. If this backfired and she ended up heartbroken, she could always return to her empty home in Paris. When had reality gotten so dark that she would seek Paris as a place of emptiness? A place to ignore her broken heart until it mended? Life had a funny way of making the things we wished for a twisted reality.

She sighed as she prepared herself to walk up the stairs. She had reached out to JJ, who had given her his address. It was the same place he used to have, as apparently after his wife’s passing he had sold their house. How did he gather the strength to let go of something as meaningful as the home he shared with Maeve? She would never know, but she was proud he continued to try living his life. She knocked and the door opened soon after his gaze confused, and this feeling later replaced by embarrassment.

“Hello, Spencer.” Her mouth was dry, the speech she had prepared long forgotten, fear running through her veins telling her to simply forget all this and run. Return to France and pretend the man in front of her never existed. “Can we talk?” She said as she noticed he hadn’t said a word.

“Yes, um, yeah… come in.” He moved and she did as she was told. “Listen, I was trying to work up the courage to call you, I am sorry I spoke to you like that.” He began as soon as he closed the door.

“Did you mean it?”

“What I said to you that day? No, never!”

“It had to come from somewhere, did it not?”

“Yes, it came from a part of that felt betrayed.” He looked around his apartment, avoiding to meet her gaze. “The more you spoke about him, the more I felt like what we had didn’t mean anything to you, and when I found out you knew about Prentiss, it made me angry but that was because I was already mad at you, I just couldn’t bring myself to accept why.”

“Why are you angry with me?” She asked. “Because I know why I am angry with you. I’m angry because you broke my heart twice, even though I played as much of a part as you the first time. I’m angry because you waltzed right back into my life and turned it upside down. I am so angry that I can’t seem to move on and leave you behind like I wanted to when I left for Paris. I am angry that you are the reason I was finally able to take my ring off.” His eyes drifted to her hand, the mark of the band clear, but no ring in sight. “So, tell me, Spencer Reid, how did I make you angry?”

“You…” He raised his eyes, finally meeting hers, and forced the words out. “I am mad because you moved on. I am angry because you left me and didn’t look back. I am angry because I wanted a family with you and you simply decided to make one with someone else.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I am mad because you made me hurt for you, and when I finally found someone I wanted to spend my life with, someone who loved me… She was taken from me and the only person I could talk to about it was you. I am angry because you made sure none of us even knew of Liam and then you spent hours talking about how he made you smile, and he made you happy. I am angry at you because you knew how much grief I had and still you did not tell me about Emily, I am angry because I still love you, despite all this. Because if you told me right now you wanted to be with me I would fly to Paris and never let you go again.”

“I feel guilty for loving you.”

“I feel guilty for loving you too.”

“I should have stopped you; I should have told you I was scared, but I wanted a family. I was ready, but I was scared someday someone would make you realize you could do better than me.” She sighed, the tears now leaving her eyes. “Now I am scared one day I will be at a table, on our anniversary waiting for you and someone will take you from me. I’m scared the grief I feel for Liam will consume me and I won’t be able to love you.”

“I am scared that my grief won’t let me love you either.” He gulped, approaching her for the first time and he laid his hands softly on her shoulder, tears now made both their faces wet. “I can’t walk away from you again. If Maeve taught me anything about love is that you fight for it, to the bitter end. You do not give up on it.” She sobbed, and his grip tightened in a reassuring gesture. “It doesn’t have to be today, nor tomorrow. We do not need to rush; we can take our time.”

“What if I’m too broken?”

“You aren’t. You're hurt, your heart was broken, but if it can be broken, that means it still works.”

“Spencer, I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t want you to leave again.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Good.”

That was all she needed, the confirmation that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. The fear subsided, the anger fell, and she embraced him, as tight as she could, and smiled as she felt him embrace her. One did not need to be a genius to know it would take time, grief and heartache take time, but both of them knew that it would get better. It always did.

As she laid beside him, in their new home, she couldn’t help but question how much time she had, how long it would be before fate, or destiny, or whoever was out there would decide to take him from her. This time, though, she didn’t let it get to her. She was married to Dr. Spencer Reid, and they were about to be parents. She smiled at the thought and got out of bed ready for the day that would change their lives forever. It had been almost five years since they spoke again, both grieving the loss of their first spouse. It had taken them three of those five years to decide to move forward and just last year they had sworn to love and protect each other in front of their friends and family. She sighed, contently. She felt her life back on track, as she returned to the BAU shortly after their engagement, selling her Paris house and opting to buy a more modest summer home. She had returned Liam’s clothing to her mother, and even some pictures, while others were in their attic. She did not mean to hide him or push him aside, but both she and Spencer decided it was best to keep them close without letting them become an obstacle in their lives together. Maeve and Liam had shown both of them how to love, how to fight for the person you want to spend your life with, and when it was okay to let go, and that was something neither of them would ever forget.

“Ready?” Her husband asked as she grabbed her car keys.

“As ready as they come, Dr. Reid.”

“What do you think it will be, a boy or a girl?” He joked.

“Very funny.” They held hands as she drove to the building, nerves, and excitement building up. Soon enough they were at no more than thirty seconds of being parents of two beautiful kids.

“I do have to say, it is rare for a couple who is already expecting to want and adopt. What made you do this?”

He looked at you, a smile full of pride and love clear on his face, knowing the answer to this question. “There are so many kids that need a home, and love. I figured if my husband and I can offer both, why not do it? Any kid deserves two loving parents and whether I gave birth to them or not shouldn’t matter.” The woman smiled at the couple.

Her two-month belly was barely barely showing, but the agency knew about it already. It was true they had decided to adopt before she found out she was expecting, but that didn’t change their plans, it simply meant another baby would join the family. The two kids, a brother, and sister about eleven and twelve joined the adults. Their nerves and fear obvious in their expression. She couldn’t help but want to hug them and never let go.

“Are you guys our new mom and dad?” The girl asked, her brother frowning at the thought.

“We are not here to replace your mom and dad.” She assured them, the frown on the boy disappearing. “We would love it for you guys to live with us, we want to take care of you if that is something you guys would like."

After a long conversation with the children and them accepting to live with the couple they made their way home, Spencer rambling about statistics on videogames as a way to excuse his lack of skill. She laughed at the sight and couldn’t help but feel complete. She smiled and turned for a second to look at him before returning her eyes to the road. “Fourteen, almost fifteen.” She mumbled to herself. Spencer looked at her with confusion. “That’s how long we’ve known each other. That’s how long I’ve dreamed of this day but was too afraid to fight for it.”

“Do you want the exact time?” He questioned.

“No. It will make me feel old.” They both laughed.

Soon they arrived in their home, their children next to them and they showed them their rooms. After having dinner together and making sure the kids felt comfortable and at home they returned to their bed and laid there, her head on his chest and his hand on her lower back. “I love you; you know that?”

“I know, and I love you too.” He left a soft kiss on her hairline.

They heard small steps and a knock, he stood and turned on the lights before opening the door, the girl in the door had fear written all over her face and her brother was behind her. “Megan doesn’t like to sleep in the dark.” He noted.

“I don’t like to sleep alone.” She corrected. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course sweetie!” Spencer picked her up and placed her on the bed next to her, as she moved to make space.

“Do you want to sleep with us too Dylan?” She asked the boy. He was reluctant but ultimately nodded running up to the bed and laying in between his sister and her. Spencer turned off the light. All four slept together, not once letting go of each other. It felt right, exactly where they needed to be.

The memory of the day she let him go still came from time to time, but her fear that he would leave her never did. She loved Spencer Reid, her colleague, friend, companion, husband. She loved him and he loved her. And now, now they had a family, the past made them who they were, but it didn’t have to define who they could become.

#spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #spencer reid fanfiction

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hongism · 3 years

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Hyello, okay so. I don't have the emotional energy to take in and discuss everything in that chapter so imma just gush over the info cause I am a ✨whore✨ for world building.

So obviously MOC SPOILER

hi bestie HELLO guess WHO!!! finally ANSWering!!! altho im gonna answer separately and space everything out all Neatly bc im all over the place so strap IN we’re going on an moc RIDE!

THERE'S A WHOLE SIREN COMMUNITY?! AND YN AND IT MUST BE WOOYOUNG WERE FRIENDS? SIRENS HAVE A FULLY FLEDGE COMMUNITY WITH PRIESTS AND SCHOOLS AND MULTUOLE CITIES TO SOME EXTEND??? MAYBE EVEN AN ENTIRE PLANET WITH SIRENS MAYBE THEIR ORIGIN PLANET? HOW MANY TYPES OF SIRENS ARE THERE AND IN THE COMMUNITY HOW DTRICT ARE THE DIFFERENT ROLES?!?! ALSO DOES THE SIREN COMMUNITY ALLOW FOR DIFFERENT TYPES OF SIRENS TO BE TOGETHER? OBVIOUSLY THEY SHOULD BUT ARE THE CHILDREN THEN HYBRID TYPES, LIKE WHEN WE GET BLUED DARK SKIND BABIES OR CAN A SKREN ONLY BE ONE TYPE. WHAT POWERS DO SIRENS HAVE AND DOES THE POWERS REFLECT THEIR PERSONALITY AND DO THE DIFFERENT TYOES LEAN TOWARDS CERTAIN JOBS. LIKE WE JUST LESRNED THE OCEAN GOTTA BE PRIESTS BUT MOON ISNT STRICT WHAT ABOUT FIRE. AND IS YN INSTIC TO PULL OUT A HEART CAUDE HER PERSONALITT, TRSUMA OR IS IT RELATED TO THE MOON. ALSO CAUSE ITS A RED MOON WHICH IS COMMONLY A BLOOD MOON, IS YN THEN A SPECIAL MOON SIREN AND THATS WHY HER POWERS ARE STEONGER OR HER INSTICTS TO USE THEM ARE STORNGER BUT THEN THE MILITARY FUCKED HER UP. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

now this is the thing im biting my tongue on SO HARD bc it’s my favorite aspect of the world building and the universe and everything involved in it bUTIHDFKJG THERS SO MUCH I WANNA SAYYYYYYYYYY in short that one dream sequence holds more hints and information than ANYTHING from previous chapters, i think that it’s probably the MOST IMPORTANT dream to date. while we’ve seen some crazy ones in the past, this one is both the biggest hint and the biggest window into y/n’s past by FARRRR. even tho that whole scene was dialogue i think there’s so much to pick up on from it and so much to see and learn from it and it’s one of my faves bc there’s so much to unpack from it !!

Like yes the story and the development is freaking ✨yes✨ I love it. Genuinely think moc should be released as books. But I just cannot deal with the emotions rn.

But also now all I'm going to be thinking about how many sirens are actually out there. And if yn knew her parents and wasn't just an orphan the military found in the streets... How the fuck did she end up in the military grasps. What happened to her parents what happened to the community, is it still out there? Guess I gotta go back and reread the galaxies and the backstories, obviously I must have missed or have forgotten something. Ugh how the puzzle pieces are puzzling (or something). Moc is a drug and I'm not going sober anytime soon

(obviously you don't have to respond to my questions, this is more just an insight into the spiralling of theories going on in my mind)

releasing moc as books? a dream and a half, i can say that much slkjdlgkjlkf but back to the sirens... how many are out there? we heard early on that hongjoong was looking for ‘the last five’ but then seonghwa debunked that and said that was a mistranslation over time that was passed down and such, but beyond that, we don’t really know much about sirens as a whole? there are some hints in the galaxies and planet descriptions but if that dream sequence is a puzzle, i would say we have a handful of pieces that can be put into place based on what we’ve learned so far!!!!

Okay I lied, I am ready to unpack a little of the ✨emotions✨

When hongjoong explained that hwa tried to stop San only for San to detain him and in a sense make him watch the scene unfold. And then realising hwa had to go through that again, only being even more helpless. I don't doubt hwa loves San, but to see the events happening again, with someone he clearly loves as much as he does yn even if he also loves joong, and to see the desperation and determination must have been just. Horrible. Just absolutely soul breaking horrible. I can imagine him vowing to himself after San that he would never let something like that happen again. That of any of the crew got out of control like that, that he would fight harder to stop them. That he would would do absolutely everything in his power to stop it. And then being helpless as he watched yn do it. Just pure heart wrenching pain. And it must have been beyond terrifying to see someone you love ready and determined to kill themselves partly from rage and partly from desperation. With the backstory, that scene becomes almost as cruel as the warehouse scene with San. The only redeeming quality is no one needing life saving surgery in a time crunch, otherwise they would be the same level of ✨never again✨

honestly i think the two crew members i torture the most are san and hwa bc i just keep putting them thru all this shit and hurting them so much but really this was the defining point of why seonghwa was so afraid. before we kinda just knew he was afraid of yn and hongjoong was mad about it. in this revelation we get to see the source of the trauma and how it was amplified by it being someone he loves as dearly as he loves yn. and for sure when first reading that scene of yn and jisung in the brig, it’s meant to evoke a sense of anger and rage like yn is so angry to a point where she would do this sort of thing, but my hope with that scene was also to show that desperation. that when looking back at it after having already seen the rage and the aftermath, that reading it again shows how desperate and hopeless she was in that moment. which is exactly the same emotion that was evoked back in that warehouse scene with san, except it was relayed differently because the warehouse was a more immediate sense of desperation. this brig scene was meant to emulate that but in a slow burn kinda way where the veil of realization is pulled off after the fact and not in the moment!!!

Just to make sure you don't misunderstand. Those asks were compliments. You are an absolutely incredible writer. And the fact that you aren’t afraid of hurting your characters *cough cough* SHOOTING SAN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!!!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? *CLEARS THROAT AGRESSIVELY* just makes the story much better. No one gets plot armour, making it more realistic (?) and really draws in the writer and sorta imitates the fear and desperation the characters feel

PLS don’t worry, i live for every moment and i live for these open and raw and genuine conversations i didn’t take any as an insult i PROMISE!! i think part of the nature of this whole trope of space pirates and criminals is that hter is no guarantee of safety! i don’t wanna have to cut corners to make sure everyone stays unharmed and undamaged throughout the story when the nature of the world i’ve built thus far is a wildly dangerous one!!! i always say that i try to be as realistic as i can, all things considered, and i think that’s the biggest thing that adds to the ‘realism’ in my mind so im so happy to hear that you see it and appreciate it and enjoy it!!!

OHOHOHOHOHOH ALSO

YN GRIPPING SOMEONES HEART??? YOU WRITE THAT SO FUCKING WELL. LIKE ENIGUH DETAILS THAT WE KNOW WHATS GOING ON, BUT ALSO NOT SO MANY DETAILS SO IT GETS DETACHWD FROM THE STORY. LIKE THE LACK OF CLEAR SUPER MANY DETAILS REALLY MADE IT THAT *YOU ARE EXPERIENCING THIS, NOT JUST READING IT* LIKE IT MADE IT WAY MORE EMOTIONAL AND OERSONAL AND THE READER REALLY GOT IMMERSED IN THE MOST HORRIBLE WAY THAT KUST MADE IT ALL RHE MORE BETTER. ALSO JOONG AFRAID????? JOONG REALISING HE GOT A FULLY FLEDGED HEART RIPPER SIREN WHO CANT CONTROL HER BODY TO MOVE THROUGH A HARMLESS DOOR BUT CAN DEFINITELY KILL IN A HEARTBEAT (OR TWO 👀) ALSO THE CONTRAST OF REMOVING RHE BLOOD COLOURED WHITE OLASTIC AND HAVING A CLEAN HAND UNDERNWATH. THE SYMBOL OF IT ALSO BEKNG A TRASH CLEANERS SUIT. LIKE SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY USE THE TRASH PROTECTION DUIT FOR ITS INTENDED PURPOSE. ALSO THE OART WHERE SHE SAYS SHES FINE EVEN TJO SHE ISNT. AT FIRST I READ IT AS HER TELLING HERSELF TO LIE BUT THEN I REALISED ITS HER ADMITTING SHE VERY MUCH ISNT. AND SAN NOT KNOWING???? AND KISSING HER HAND AND UGH AND SEONGHWA KNOWING. I BET HE'S LOWKEY GETTING MORE AND MORE AFRAID OF HER. LIKE YN IS READY TO KILL HERSELF AND ANYONE AROUND HER TO KEEP SAN SAFE. AND SHE INSTICTUALLY GOES FOR THE MODT AGRESSIVE METHOD POSSIBLE. IHHHHHHHHHHHHH I FUCKING LOVE YOU AND YOUR WONDERFUL WTITING AND YOUR TWISTED MIND THAT CAN CREATE ALL THESE FUCKING SCENES THAT GOT ME THUNKING AND FEELING ✨EMOTIONS✨

truly one of the HIGHLIGHTS of the chapter simply bc of how shocking and sudden it is!! for me, that was one of the easiest scenes to write in the chapter, oddly enough? it was something that when it came time to write it, i knew how i wanted it to be and was able to just sit down and write it out the way its written in the final draft of the chapter. i really love playing with those aspects of fiction and storytelling. tangible to a point, without spelling it out. i think it’s obvious that i really love delayed realization in writing, but i really like playing with how the brain processes information and for me personally, i don’t pick up on things right away! i can realize them in a snap or it can take me a bit to go ‘oh god that’s what happened’, and i like playing with that in y/n’s character a LOT.

and in that same vein of thought, there are some layers to that scene as well when compared to the door scene. in the door scene we saw hongjoong clearly tell y/n ‘you need to do this to save san’ yet she wasn’t able to do it despite trying and believing hongjoong. then in the heart scene we saw y/n clearly tell herself ‘you need to do this to save san’ and she did it then. so there’s a lot at play in that parallel alone too. and with that internal monologue she has of im fine vs not fine, then san kissing the hand that touched a literal real actual beating heart for me that was a sort of self indulgent scene and i was really worried about it coming across as too cheesy or something like that, but that is something that’s gonna impact y/n as a character and her relationship with san when they have the conversation of ‘oh hey i put my hand through a man’s chest for you’

i think part of why this chapter was so difficult to construct and write as a whole definitely is because of all the undertones and nuances throughout, and in a lot of ways it’s so so much to even think about that it’s almost too much packed into one chapter alone, but even if you don’t pick up on all the nuances throughout, i’m hoping to revisit them and bring them back around in that delayed realization style again bc that’s one of my favorite things to do ofc :3

#21y redeemed fool #mists of celeste #moc: spoilers #caly answers #sorry i wrote you a whole essay in response oh my god?!??#T_T

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

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10x22: Here’s Negan - Details

All right. Here are a LOT of details.

***As always, spoilers abound below for 10x22. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

We start with Maggie and Hershel walking around Alexandria early in the morning. She calls him “a little rat” affectionately, which I’m side eying. Because of Carol’s rat last episode and because we already established parallels between Hershel and Beth from ep 17 in that he went missing and Maggie and Daryl searched for him.

Then they sing “you are my sunshine” together, which is the same song Carl sang Negan. Because the sun is a Beth symbol, we’ve always seen her in that song. I also wonder if it foreshadows Maggie losing Hershel in some way. I don’t mean him dying, but rather being kidnapped. A lot of us have thought about one or some of the kids being taken at some point, and their parents having to search for them.

Carol looks out a broken window (Broken Glass Theory) and sees the exchange. So, she leaves Alexandria and takes Negan with her.

Actually, the next thing we see is a dead rabbit she pulls from a snare. The rabbit is SUPER interesting. I answered an Ask HERE about the moon rabbit, and I really love this explanation of the symbol. It makes perfect sense for Beth because the moon rabbit sacrificed itself, which is exactly what Father Gabriel said cryptically in 5x16. “How you sacrificed one of your own….”

Plus the Moon rabbit is resurrected and combines the moon symbol and the rabbit symbol.

So what does it mean in this context?

Well, I still don’t want to go into too much detail, though I will soon. (I promise.) But if rabbit = Beth, I think this is yet another example of symbolism that points to Negan and Beth having a big arc together later. (And Carol will probably be thrown into the mix.)

That evening, Negan drinks by the fire. What he’s drinking is clearly moonshine. It’s from one of those big glass moonshine bottles. I don’t know where he got it. I looked a second time at the stuff they left for him, and it might be in there, but if so, it isn’t visible. It would certainly be interesting if Daryl left him moonshine, but I don’t see any super-obvious hint at that. If it’s already there in the cabin, well, that’s Leah’s cabin, so….

This is where he sees his old self from the trailer. Some of the dialogue jumps out at me as things Daryl might say about himself. Evil Negan says to his good self, “You are nothing without her.” That sort of thing.

The next day he goes back to the tree with the stained-glass windows where Rick cut his throat. One of the plate glass windows has a hole in it and the other one is lying on the ground.

My go-to explanation of course is that the one with the hole represents the bullet hole in Beth’s head. (We actually said this of the stained-glass window in Father Gabriel’s church that Sasha shoots a hole in in 5x16 as well.) And I always see someone falling down as a serious injury. So, when Beth belly-flopped in the elevator shaft with Noah, that was a foreshadow of her getting shot. So I’m kind of seeing the window lying flat on the ground in the same way.

Of course, Negan digs up Lucille, and then it goes into the flashbacks.

It starts of course with him being a prisoner of the biker gang. We do think this gang is a parallel of the Claimers from S4. Remember that I said, overall, Negan = Daryl, right? So, this guy (Craven) even kind of looks like Joe Claimer. They dress in a similar fashion, are rough-and-tumble kind of dudes. But also, Negan runs into them after he loses Lucille. He doesn’t realize she’s died at that point, but she has. Just like Daryl ran into the Claimers after being separated from Beth in Alone.

And we immediately see a blue cooler with IV bags inside. They’re Lucille’s chemo treatments. So blue cooler/Frosty Cola symbolism. Plus this can parallel to 6x06 when Daryl accidentally took off with Tina’s medicine when he met Dwight. Basically, these are both pointing to the same thing: a future arc involving Daryl and Beth. There are also 22s on the IV bags. So, 22 theory.

I will say that the format of this episode is a lot like 10x18 because so much of it is flashback. They even use the same font to show the time jumps. The main difference is that with Daryl, they started 5 years ago and then jumped forward, toward the present. Here, they actually move backward first and then forward again.

So it’s like a swinging pendulum. They go back 12 years to where he’s a prisoner of the bikers. Then it goes back 6 weeks to when he’s with Lucille in their home , and then it jumps back again to before the apocalypse when she first found out she had cancer, which was right about the time the turn happened. And then it moves forward to the two of them together in the house, and then back to him with the bikers.

Okay, so, “12 Years Ago” he’s telling his story to the bikers.

Then it actually says “Two or Three Days Ago” and it’s odd to me that they don’t specify which one it is. Negan says he found the mobile medical clinic 2 or 3 days ago, but there’s got to be a reason they don’t just go with one or the other. Anyway, this is when he found an RV with supplies. He tries to hold the doctor up and Laura (Savior) comes up behind him with a bat and hits him.

We also get a bit of a hallucination theme. When Negan looks at the RV and the dummy guards on the roof, his sight sort of warps in and out like he can’t tell for sure. When he wakes up, he’s also hooked to an IV. (Parallel to Beth at Grady.) The doctor says he was dehydrated, malnourished, and exhausted. So maybe, in addition to all the mental break stuff we’ve already said about Daryl in 10x18, we should add these to the list.

“Six Weeks Earlier” and it shows him and Lucille. The first thing we see is that she tells him he’ll have to kill the walker but he doesn’t want to. He just turns off the generator, hoping it will go.

So, she makes him read Pride and Prejudice to her. The Pride and Prejudice thing is really interesting. He only reads a line or two, but anyone familiar with the story will be able to pick out the scene. Basically, in the story, a man asks Lizzie to marry him and she rejects him. He doesn’t love her or anything. He’s just looking for a “suitable” wife, and she can’t stand him. After she rejects him, her best friend marries him instead. And this friend doesn’t care that it’s not a love match. She just wants to be settled in life.

So the scene Negan reads part of is where the friend, Charlotte, is coming to tell Lizzie that she’s marrying him instead. This is the part Negan reads:

"I see what you are feeling," replied Charlotte. "You must be surprised, very much surprised--so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over…”

Here’s the thing. No way they’re putting dialogue from such a well-known book like this into the show without reason. And I know they said on TTD that it’s supposed to be an Easter Egg for Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Fair enough, but it’s not enough of an explanation for me. In the past, there have been things Nicotero has labelled as homages to various horror films, and I’m sure that’s true, but they’re also clearly Beth symbolism.

So, you could say that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies applies to Negan and Lucille. It’s a true love story, but zombies are thrown in. That works. But why this particular passage? It’s about NOT marrying for love, or the passing of a man’s offer of marriage from one woman to another. None of that applies to Negan and Lucille. It would have made more sense to have him read a different passage between Lizzie and Darcy, you know?

So, what does this mean? We’re not entirely sure, yet. For me, I tend to think it foreshadows a future arc (I’m sure you’re shocked) and I’ll get more into that in the next few days.

@wdway suggested perhaps we could apply it to the Leah situation. Daryl is in love with one woman, but hallucinating a relationship with another. I think that works, too. For now, let’s just keep it in mind, shall we? ;D

Dialogue parallels include Lucille saying, “we’ll have to kill it,” which parallels Beth saying the same thing about the walker at the moonshine shack.

And of course then we get that all important scene with the green wig, “serious” mention, IV stand and bag, and walker in the eye.

We see Negan going out to look for more gas for the generator, siphoning it out of cars.

We also see them having fun together. Obviously them playing darts is a callback to Still. The part where they play darts is actually just like half a second in the show, which just goes to show that they did the promo shot because they wanted us to see the symbols in the scene. I want to draw everyone’s attention to the fact that the British flag is printed on the darts. This is part of the template I’ll talk about in a day or two as well. For now, I just want you to notice it. It’s important.

When they do the candlelight dinner (*coughs alone*) they eat DOG food. Sirius reference. She suddenly says “happy anniversary” and pulls out a present for him. He says, “You know what day it is?” and she says, “no, I just wanted you to have this.” So I think the idea is that it’s not really their anniversary. She just said that as an excuse to give him a present. It reminded me a little of the “New Years Eve” theme we saw around the Claimers. Not exactly the same, but a similar vibe. It’s not REALLY New Year’s Eve. They’re just saying it as an excuse to do something else (in that case, kill Rick). Here, it’s not really their anniversary, but Lucille is saying that as an excuse to give him the jacket.

When Negan says she doesn’t owe him anything Lucille says, “I stuck with you because I could always see the man you are right now, even when you weren’t.” So again, kind of a Beth theme of seeing the best in him even when he doesn’t see it in himself. That’s a huge theme throughout this episode.

There’s more refrigerator/cooler symbolism when the fridge defrosts, ruining the last of Lucille’s treatments.

Then it jumps back to before the apocalypse. There were some symbols here as well. The main ones I noticed were specifically around Lucille. After her diagnosis, she gets in the car and hears the broadcast about the virus victims eating human flesh. Kind of a callback to hearing the Terminus broadcast in 4a.

Then she gets mad and says, just play some g**d*** music. (Music reference.) When the car pulls out, you have to check out this license plate!

XVD-1144. The 1-1 you should recognize from @frangipanilove’s 1-1 posts. The 44 references the comic book issue where Andrea was shot in the head, and survived. And of course there’s the X. So then @wdway had the ingenious idea to ask what roman numerals X and D stood for. X=5 and D=500. So we basically have “X, 550, 1-1, 44.” Yeah, series number 55 was Slabtown. Beth was on the 5th floor. And all the rooms around them in the hallway at Grady were in the 550s. If that’s not proof that Lucille is a Beth proxy, I don’t know what is.

Plus, notice the type of car: mustang. We’ve talked about this before, but horse symbolism, and the type of car is always important.

Another thing @wdway with her eagle eyes picked up. Lucille is scrolling back and forth between Negan and Janine’s numbers, right? Notice the date:

November 12. Recognize that:

Yeah, not kidding. It’s a reference to the headstone in Alone. 👀

Back in the future again, Lucille asks Negan to stay with her. You don’t realize this the first time watching it, but clearly she’s ready to die, and just wants him to be with her, but he’s bound and determined to save her, an goes anyway.

A couple of things to point out. Negan looking for meds parallels to Daryl looking for meds at the veterinary college in 4a. Also, on TTD they pointed out that Negan is constantly putting Lucille in a position to be alone. Before the apocalypse, he left her alone to fool around with another woman, who was her best friend. He made her go to the doctor alone. (Lucille alone at the hospital could = Beth at Grady.) We see him constantly leaving her here to get supplies. And he leaves for like 6 six weeks to track the mobile clinic.

I think that’s mostly an anti-parallel to Daryl. Daryl never left Beth intentionally. But I also think it could be a future theme, not in the sense that Daryl will leave her, but I’ve always thought he would feel super guilty because they left her behind and now she’s been “alone” for 8 years. And again, not physically alone as we know she’ll be part of other groups and such, but without him and her family.

Back with the medical people again, Laura gives Negan her bat, the one she first beaned him with, since he doesn’t have any other weapons.

All they said about Laura on TTD was that they wanted to use her—someone the audience would recognize—but also someone who had a relatively minor role. So they talked about how they could have brought Austin Amelio on and had Dwight give it to him, but because Dwight is a bigger character, and because his onscreen relationship with Negan was much bigger, it would have made it a Negan/Dwight moment and they wanted to keep this episode focused solely on Negan and Lucille. So they used Laura.

And sure, that’s fine. But they could have used any Savior they wanted. And why did they even WANT a familiar face? Why the return of the Savior with the blond hair, you know? I’m just saying. ;D

Of course Negan tells the biker gang where the medical RV is and then goes back to Lucille, but she’s already dead. This really was a very tragic episode.

We obviously have a suicide theme here, and the fact that Negan never actually shoots or stabs Lucille in the head, both of which parallel Beth.

On TTD, YNB even pointed out that she’s wearing the same clothes as she was the day he left, which means she committed suicide the day he left. Most of the 6 weeks he’s been out looking for medical supplies, she was already dead. Super tragic, no?

We also see keys, matches, the blue cooler again, and Negan wrapping the barbed wire around his bat.

So, a couple of preliminary thoughts here. The 6 weeks was bugging me because they said it 2 or 3 times, really emphasizing it. I’m kind of wanting to equate it to 6 seasons. Because if Beth doesn’t show until S11 (and clearly now she can’t, unless she shows in Fear or something, but I’m not holding my breath for that) then it will be 6 seasons since Beth left the show.

And again, it’s more anti-parallel than parallel. For 6 weeks, Negan thought Lucille was alive, but she was dead the entire time. For 6 seasons, Daryl thought Beth was dead, when really she’s been alive the whole time.

And, of course, Negan burns the house down, much like Beth and Daryl did in Still.

But here’s the other thing @wdway noticed. Check out the similarities here:

Similar colors and structures, and both seem to be on fire at some point. And I don’t think the cabin in 5x09 was pointing toward Negan and Lucille. Rather, I think the symbolism in both instances point toward something we haven’t seen, yet. But the parallels and repeated symbolism are there.

When Negan leaves, he gets on his bike with Lucille (the bat) and drives away from the burning house. And interestingly, we see him smack his mailbox with it and knock it off it’s post.

Couple of things here:

The name “Smith” is written on the mailbox, so apparently that was their last name. And they mentioned it on TTD. Smith is such an everyman sort of name. It might be one of the most common surnames on the planet, so there’s definitely some interesting symbolism there having to do with Negan.

But I’m side-eyeing the actual mailbox, as part of the Communication Theme. And, on a very basic level, I’m thinking that the mailbox was intact when Lucille was still alive. He destroyed it after he lost her. So maybe it represents something along those lines, or even represents the person they lost. So mailbox = Beth.

The scene that keeps flashing in my head is from 6x03 when Daryl is riding around on his bike, searching for Rick, and he’s passing all these mailboxes in the background.

Then in 10x21, we see him walking toward the military walker on the train tracks (*coughs CRM, *coughs Rick*) and he passes the blond, Beth walker, but doesn’t actually look at her or see her. Do you kind of see the similar theme there?

Negan brutally killing the biker gang can parallel Rick doing the same to Joe Claimer in 4x16.

Negan tells Craven a story about how he lost his job. He got in a bar fight. It was their favorite because it had a JUKE BOX. And they loved the juke box because it played their favorite song (You are So Beautiful to Me.) He even talks about “seeing red” and how he now realizes he can do anything he wants (read: kill anyone he wants) so we kind of see his evolution into S6 Negan here.

And honestly, they leave a lot of loose threads here. We never learn what happens to Franklin (he’s still alive at this point) and obviously Laura stays with Negan long term, but they really could do more flashbacks about how he started gathering people and found the Sanctuary.

So then we come back to the present where he’s just dug Lucille up under the stained glass window tree. In the first scene at the beginning, we see a walker making its way toward him. Yes, it’s a blond, female walker, and I’m pretty sure she’s wearing Daryl’s shirt from when he was at the Sanctuary. Here at the end, Negan has been lost in his own thoughts so long, the walker comes up behind him and he turns around and kills it with Lucille.

When he does, the bat splits down the middle. Yet another symbol of Lucille’s death.

He goes back to the cabin and sits in front of the fire and talks to Lucille (both the bat and his actual wife). He says, “I’m sorry I left you…I made myself not feel anything…I miss you.” See how we could apply that to Daryl?

He also says, “I’m going to do your fighting for you,” which I take to mean he’ll honor her memory better, now, rather than go back to the old, evil Negan he was. Which was really just years of him avoiding his feelings about her death. (Kind of like Daryl has with Beth, hence the Leah situation.)

Then he covers the bat in a white cloth (clearly meant to be a shroud) and puts the bat in the fireplace, burning it. On TTD, they do say this is meant to be the funeral she never got. 👀

Oh, and at the end of the “in memoriam” on TTD, it actually says, “Negan is burning down his past.”

So, at the very end, he actually goes back to Alexandria. Maggie, Carol, and Daryl are near the entrance and he asks where the “A” team is going. Carol warns Negan that if he lives at Alexandria, Maggie will kill him at some point. I actually really liked this ending. It was a good way to kick us into S11.

That’s the end of the episode. So, I’ll say this again and it will be a good segue into my next post about what I think Beth’s arc will be in S11, and how she’ll appear. I’ll post it either tomorrow or Thursday.

Without getting too much into the weeds, I think Negan and Beth will have some major, future interaction. And I really think the symbolism here backs it up, for various reasons. The symbolism itself wouldn’t prove anything, as we’ve seen this stuff repeated with lots of different characters and especially true love couples, which Negan and Lucille clearly were, despite his cheating.

But on TTD, Hilarie Burton talked about how strong Lucille was. She said she liked the character because so often when cancer victims or victims of other prolonged diseases are portrayed on film, they’re seen as angelic, ethereal beings. And while that’s fine if that’s truly who they are, you don’t lose your personality just because you become sick. So she liked it that Lucille was a little rough around the edges. She says that even before the apocalypse, Negan was just fussy enough that he would need a strong woman to rein him in, and he would also be attracted to exactly this kind of strong woman.

Strong woman = Beth.

So, I’ll just leave it there.

Anyone find any symbols I missed?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

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Hey hey hey. I hope you're doing well!! With A court of Silver Flames coming soon, I was wondering what your opinion is about it. Personally I'm rather worried with how the book will go and I just really don't want Nesta to go to the Illyrians Mountains. I want her to say fuck it and whatever happens she does on her own terms. But I don't believe that's very likely and well, 😔. Here's to hoping that Sarah is going to do a great job with the book.

Hope you had a great Christmas and New Year!! ❤️❤️

Hey! I had lovely holidays, I hope you did too :)

I am of...so many minds about the next book. Overall, I really do think its going to be a lot like reading acowar: I’ll enjoy reading it in a light way, but retrospective awareness of plot holes/weird character stuff will keep me from loving it. Fun book not...a masterful book that holds up?

I have MANY wishes for how Nesta’s story would play out, but the ground work for a very different series of events is where acofas left us.

I’ve talked at length about how the Illyria thing seems...bad. I initially tried to be excited?? GOD do I want a nessian book! an Illyrian revolution! But the framework is just..fucked? I’m not down with a romance starting with the woman in the pairing (who has already told her male counterpart to leave her alone) being passed like a recalcitrant pet into his custody.

Do I love a situation with strife and limitations that forces people to see each other? Yes. Do I like this one? Eh.

In particular the setup of this one is functioning on multiple bad levels. Feyre, sending her sister away because she’s decided personal offense? Is the response? To someone clearly at rock bottom and suicidal? Taking away another home, this one Nesta was always sure didn’t want her, proving to Nesta that her sister can’t stand to have her even in the same city.

Rhysand, who I’ve talked about before in this instance. Who wants Nesta gone. If Nesta dies in Illyria, fine. She’ll probably take out some of rebels when she goes. She’s Cassian’s mate? Cool maybe she’ll kill whoever inevitable comes at him. It’s sending an armed nuclear weapon into a failing peace talk. Rhys knows Illyria is on the edge of rebellion.

Cassian. Just- jesus christ, Cassian. It’s like he can’t get it right because he doesn’t trust himself enough, ever, to just go with his first impulse where Nesta is concerned. (See, following Rhysands threat to the letter and NOT SAYING A WORD TO HER AT SOLSTICE, BUT THEN FOLLOWING HER OUT INTO THE DARK BECAUSE HE DID, IN FACT, WANT HOLIDAY TIME WITH HER). He’s maybe hurt her the most?

Which leads me to something else. I am very, very excited to have both of their canon POVs. Because I have questions!

Like, okay, the big failure is obviously the end of that last terrible battle. We see them decide to die together. The kiss. The bloody embrace. Hybern’s death. The promise that probably meant quite literally everything to Nesta.

And then...all we know, from like, a little throwaway sentence is that somehow, the next time we see Cas, moments later, he is a)well enough to stagger off the field (did Nesta try to heal him?), and b) arm in arm with Morrigan.

Mor was, I think, supposed to be protecting Elain? It’s her only action through the entire war, and we never see it happen, and then she.... showed up somewhere behind her charge, who’d just stabbed Hybern...to... rip Cassian out of Nesta’s arms and heal him? Once again be a physical, vicious barrier, while Nesta is too in shock to say anything and Cassian...lets her?

And lets be clear, he had to have let her. I know he’s half dead, but one book before we have Cassian unconscious, scrabbling in a pool of his own blood, completely unaware but still trying to respond to Nesta being tossed in the Cauldron.

He’s aware. Present.

And I want to know why it happened! I want someone to reveal this terrible break, that is, I think, quite literally where Nesta fractured.

Illyrian promises are a Big Deal in-universe. Cassian promised her- and then, does it just not count, because they did not, in fact, die?

He’s not stupid, or cruel- though Cassian’s pride and wounded ego temper does cockblock him CONSTANTLY- what the hell happened?

I’m getting way off topic- but the thing is, as much as I want them together, I think the best outcome for Nesta is to have an ally that isn’t Cassian.

Hello, Emerie.

But! Much like the mountain set up at all, that’s also totally fraught? I’ve said it before, but could there be any bigger insult to Illyrian ladies denied their power, fighting unsuccessfully for rights, for the privilege to be Illyrian...than yet another High Fae lady, this one clearly unwilling, living in their mountains, learning their techniques, from a legendary general???

So yes, I agree, Nesta’s banishment was a pretty shitty call on all accounts.

I like the idea of the Queens being her enemies. That it wasn’t just done, what happened to her and destroyed her life, with Hybern. That Nesta has to face what else the Cauldron made.

(A note though, on power: the narrative needs to decide, SO BADLY, what Nesta’s powers are. Primordial? Deadly? Cool, then Rhysand shouldn’t be pushing her around. The Cauldron canonically made the world, and Nesta canonically took so much of its magic she permanently damaged its function.)

What I would do, if I were writing it, is this: I’d have Cassian let Nesta go.

He takes her out of Velaris. Away from Rhys and Feyre, from everything, and says, you don’t have to come with me.

And it’ll mean- you don’t have to come with me, because I know you don’t want to. I won’t trap you. Now or ever. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Cassian, going in one direction, free in the sky. Nesta, going another, unmoored but choosing it. Cassian handles the Illyrian rebellion, and figuring out what he needs. Nesta heals slow, falls in with the Band of Exiles, whose closeness to human causes leads her back to helping her people, to eventual collision course with the Queens.

SEPARATE journeys in parallel that come together in peril. They meet again strong. Free of the Night Court. Trying to do what is right.

And then, they fight. Because it’s still the easiest language they both speak. But they ALSO still love each other- and isn’t this, after all, so very nearly another life? It’s time, to fight side by side.

But what I think is going to happen is a lot more...painful? They’re going to go to Illyria and Cassian is going to make Nesta train. They’re going to fight and fuck, hurt each other with both those things way before they’re ready for something real. The rebellion might not happen? Nesta’s going to get a Feyre 2.0 fighting course. It’ll empower her...but it’s still not her choice.

She’s then either going to a) go rogue and go after the Queens herself, b) get kidnapped again, or c)Rhysand is going to send her and Cassian after them, banishment matchmaking vol. 2: the assassination assignation, maybe with backseat Azriel, who has also had goddamn enough of everything.

Love is, of course, going to prevail, but really at this point, what I want most (aside from ANSWERS)is just...Nesta’s health? For her to spend time around people who treat her with even the slightest modicum of respect?

And I do have hope! The advertising has emphasized found family specifically. I hope, so badly, that that means Nesta gets her own family. That her journey takes her to a place she chooses.

Cassian needs to heal too- and really, really, decide to live for himself and make his own choices. My greatest hope isn’t just that it’s a sexy love story, but that they end up better, freer, and more appreciated by the end.

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sunsetcurbed · 4 years

Text

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 3,416 Rating: T Warnings: none Chapter: 1/11 read on AO3

Summary: “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Frederick Alexander Louis Mercer?” his grandmother asks with a deep frown, crossing her ankle behind her other foot carefully. He frowns. Here’s that pub trivia he doesn’t know. “No, I can’t say I have.” “Frederick was Beasiga’s crown prince,” she tells him with a meaningful look, which he doesn’t understand. She leans forward. “And Frederick was your father.” Alex’s mind blanks. “That’s… okay,” he says, bobbing his head in a quick nod as he presses his lips together and bites the insides of them, trying to will some thoughts back into his mind. “I don’t think—I’m not sure you’re quite right on that. Because if you were, then—“ “Then you would be Alexander Charles Taylor Mercer, Prince of Beasiga.”

(*)

(or: the willex princess diaries au that no one asked for but I wrote anyways)

(1)

1 e and a 2 e and a—

"On the edge of great, on the edge of great, on the edge of great," Alex sings into the microphone, listening to the rest of his band around him and hearing the audience of their music class as he performs his midterm with his band. On one hand he's thankful that the four of them only have to perform once for all of their grades instead of four separate performances—less opportunities to mess up. However, on the other hand, he's bummed about it because it means they only get to play in front of their class once rather than four times. Performing music for a live audience is like nothing else—even if it's an audience as simple as a group of thirty high school students. The music their band makes is undeniable, so even while listening to performances is routine in this class, most of the students still end up getting into their music and dancing along.

Alex drums and sings along and watches Julie from behind as she belts out her high note at the beginning of the final chorus. He can't keep the grin off his face as he sees various students dancing in their seats to the song. He makes eye contact with a few and even sends one of them a wink, just as he hits his last cymbal before Julie and Luke go into their duet over the piano. He looks towards his two band mates and friends and smirks at them being just a little too close for a midterm performance, but—glancing at Mrs. Harrison—the teacher doesn't seem to mind, so. The two of them finish and all four of them stand and take a bow, and Alex lets the cheers and clapping wash over him.

"Very impressive," Mrs. Harrison compliments. "Who composed the song?"

"Julie and I wrote the lyrics, all four of us worked on the melody and harmonies, and each of us worked on our individual instrument to compose our piece," Luke answers readily.

"It was very well done," she nods at each of them in turn. "I'm sure you'll be very pleased with your grade. You all may take your seats."

Alex follows behind Reggie to their group of four seats in the back of the music class room, nodding at a few of his class mates as he goes when they offer him praise. When they get back to their seats Mrs. Harrison calls for the classes attention and then next performance goes, and then Flynn goes next, and then music is over for the day.

"We nailed that," Luke bursts as soon as the bell rings to end class.

"Luke, what was that riff at the end of the bridge?" Reggie asks with wide eyes. "It was killer."

"You think so?" Luke asks, bouncing on the balls of his toes. "I didn't mean to improv but it came to me and it sounded so good in my head so I just—"

"Luke," Julie smiles softly, placing a hand on his upper arm, "don't worry. It was incredible. You were right to add it in."

Luke looks between the other three band members and bites his lip. "Yeah?"

Alex laughs. "Yeah, buddy."

"Awesome," he grins, swinging his backpack up onto his shoulder and hopping towards the door. "And now—that's three midterms down and only two to go."

Alex groans. "I only have one left."

Reggie frowns. "Why are you more upset about that then Luke is about two?"

Alex sends a look at Reggie. "It's public speaking."

"Oh no," Julie murmurs from next to him, reaching up to rub a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay. Just imagine you're sitting behind your drums."

"Yeah, that's never worked."

"Imagine you're on stage with us," Luke says from Julie's other side, tossing his arm around Julie's shoulder and leaning in her space so far that he's nearly in Alex's space as well.

"That's also never worked."

They reach the cafeteria then and their conversation falls away as they make their way through the lunch line. Alex grabs only an orange, because if he's going to be giving a speech in the next two hours, he doesn't want to give his stomach much ammunition.

They make their way to the back table of the cafeteria where Flynn, Willie, and two of Willie's skateboarder friends, Greg and Shawn, are waiting for them. Alex can count the amount of words he's said to Greg and Shawn over the past two years on both his hands, but they shared Willie nicely, so that was enough for him.

See, Alex had met Willie in elementary school at recess—it had to be at recess because Willie was a grade above him. Alex remembers Willie doing cool tricks on all the playground equipment—flipping off the benches, pin wheeling on the bars, jumping off the parallel bars—exciting things like that. He'd always had Alex's attention. And then in fourth grade Alex jumped off the swing really far (he'd never admit it was on accident). Obviously this started a jumping contest off the swings and the only one who bested him had been Willie, who came over and introduced himself after the recess aides stopped the competition. At the time, Alex didn't know what he was feeling when Willie smiled at him. He'd been told crushes were for girls, so he didn't realize that his crush was on a boy. Over time he'd learn though, and over time it'd develop.

It wouldn't progress much further though until Willie was in tenth grade and Alex was in ninth, both of them at high school. It was Alex's second week at high school and he lost rock, paper, scissors to Luke and had to go up to the concession stand at the beach to get everyone their hot dogs. On his way back to the group, however, Willie skated right into him. After lengthy apologies, Willie took him back to the concession stand and bought him new hot dogs in apology, plus an extra one, and joined them. That day would cement Alex's helpless crush on Willie which—

Has not gone away now that they're half way through fall term in Alex's junior year of high school.

Ask him how he's doing.

"Hey, hot dog!"

(He's doing great.)

"Hey, puka," Alex rolls his eyes back, eying the puka shell necklace around Willie's throat. Willie grins wide at him, bouncing his eyebrows up and down. Alex moves to take his seat next to Willie.

Willie takes a bite of his sandwich and looks at the group. "How'd your music midterm go?"

"So well they left me there," Flynn huffs from where she's picking her lunch out of her lunch box. "I had to put my trumpet away and by the time I was done they were gone!"

"You know what Luke is like after a performance," Julie apologizes to her friend. "I couldn't keep him still if I tried."

"It's for that reason and only that reason that you're forgiven," Flynn says.

"Our midterm was amazing though," Luke jumps in as soon as Flynn finishes speaking. He looks up to the ceiling and shakes his head. "Man, I wish you were in the music program so you could have seen it—but we'll play it for a gig soon, so I guess you didn't miss too much—"

"We did kill it though," Reggie leans forward, around Alex, to see Willie. "So you can be sad about missing that."

"Consider me sad, then," Willie says. "Flynn, how did you do?"

Flynn answers, and the rest of the table is quiet, giving Alex a moment to let his mind wander. Next period is his public speaking class, and his final midterm. His biology midterm had been yesterday, so after public speaking he's technically free to go—well…

Not actually. He's got an obligation after school today, but. He's not exactly sure how he feels about it.

He doesn't need to think about that now, though, because the rest of lunch passes with various conversations ranging from the start of new songs ("where's my notebook—write that down, write that down!"), cats versus dogs ("you can train cats too, you just don't have enough patience"), and the dance team ("there were kazoos and immediately I knew I was in the wrong"). It's a good distraction from his impending doom of public speaking, but when the bell rings to dismiss them from lunch to class, he realizes that it was just that: a distraction.

He feels his hands clam up, his breathing pick up, and his pulse skyrocket. He can't even force himself to get up from his seat.

"Hey," Julie's voice says from across the table. "We'll be here for you after your speech, yeah? I have a free period after next period since we already took our history midterm so I'll meet you here, okay?"

Willie's hand falls on his shoulder and Alex is already tense so it doesn't even matter that he gets even tenser. "Hey, man," he says "I read through your speech like, ten times. It's ace, you've got this. Don't even bother looking at the audience, just read right off the paper, okay? You don't even need public speaking skills, you're gonna be a fucking rock star."

"C'mon," Reggie says, standing behind him. "I'll walk you to class."

Alex looks at each face surrounding him, and each of them are encouraging, each of them believe in him. He closes his eyes then and swings his legs over the bench and stands up. "Yeah, let's go."

"Good luck!" he hears a group chorus behind him, but he doesn't look back to acknowledge them, doesn't think he can because if he looks back then he'll see their faces and he'll want to hold on to them and so he focuses on the feeling of Reggie's arm brushing against his and keeps walking forward. It doesn't even take them two minutes to get to class, and then Reggie is shaking Alex's shoulder and wishing him luck. Alex doesn't look at Reggie's face for the exact same reason he didn't look back at his group of friends. He doesn't think he'd actually go into class if he'd looked at Reggie.

So he doesn't look at Reggie, and instead walks into the classroom where Mr. Kullins is waiting. Alex takes his seat—second row next to the window—and waits while the rest of the class files in. He pulls his speech out of his backpack and stares at it. He mumbles to himself, reciting his speech as students fill their seats.

"You never write a theme for a movie thinking 'this will live forever.'" John Williams, famous composer, said this. He and countless other composers create the accompaniment to films we know and love. Consciously, we hardly pick up on these melodies, but subconsciously, they influence how we consume the media. A good score can cause a tear, while a great score can make you weep. A good score can make you pause while a great score can make you hold your breath. A—

The bell to start class rings and Alex clenches his fist tightly around the edge of his desk, fighting down the wave of nausea that rises up in his throat. Mr. Kullins is speaking in the background, welcoming everyone to class, explaining that they'll be finishing up the last of the midterms today. It's in alphabetical order by last name, and Alex isn't sure if he's glad to have been granted the grace of going on the last day, or if he wishes he had just gotten it over with on the first day.

McConnell, Rebecca goes first and Alex's nausea rises. Then Stenson, Ryan goes, and the nausea is in every part of Alex's body now, from his head to his toes. Then Mr. Kullins calls Taylor, Alex, and Alex really, genuinely thinks he's going to be sick.

Don't even bother looking at the audience, just read right off the paper, okay?

Right—like Willie had said, he could pretend he was just reading it to himself, right? Just read it straight off the paper. Alex stands from his desk and walks to the front of the room, going to stand behind the podium that's set up for their speeches. He sets his speech down on the stand and doesn't lift his head, not once.

"Everyone, give Mr. Taylor your full attention," Mr. Kullins says from where he sits behind his desk, and Alex wants to scream at him. No! Let them—let them go on their phones! Let them talk to each other! Don't make them pay attention to me!

He starts by taking in a deep, quivering breath. "'You never write a theme for a movie thinking 'this will live forever.''" Alex pauses here, swallowing. He can hear people in the audience shuffling. Someone shifts in their chair and he glances up to see who it was. Shit. All of their eyes are on him. Quickly, he looks back down at his paper. The words are blurrier than they were when he started, and there's a pressure in his head that wasn't there at lunch, but he presses on. "John Williams, famous composer, said this. He… and countless other composers… create the accompaniment to films we know and love… Consciously," he glances up again against his better judgment and feels his face flush hot when he connects eyes with one of the students. "Uh. Consciously, we hardly pick up on these melodies, but subconsciously—" Alex cuts off when a large black dot dances in front of the words he's reading. His throat is burning all the way down to his gut. Without thinking, he leans both his arms on to the podium and hides his face between them.

In, 2, 3, 4.

There's murmurings from around him, but he can't lift his head.

Hold, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

There's a louder murmuring from closer to him this time, but he can't, he can't.

Out, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

There's a hand on his back.

His head shoots up, and the room spins.

"Mr. Taylor?" Mr. Kullins asks with a cautious voice, and oh, does he have a lot to be cautious about right now.

"Gotta sit," Alex says quickly, moving to the back wall as quickly as he could to slide down it and put his head between his knees to continue his breathing exercise. He might have felt embarrassed, but the alternatives were passing out or throwing up—he'd know, it's happened multiple times before.

He hears footsteps all around him and the shuffling of desks as he assumes students are trying to move to get a better look at him, but he keeps focused on his counts, and lets Mr. Kullins tell them that the next student is going to go. Someone gets up from their desk and shuffles their papers around before settling it on the podium. Alex briefly wonders what happens to his paper.

The rest of class passes with Alex curled up in the back of the class room, listening to his final three class mates give their speeches, and then they're done. There's extra time left before the bell rings, so that means extra time for everyone to stare at him, so he picks his head up, confident that he's not going to pass out or throw up anymore, and looks at Mr. Kullins. His teacher looks back at him and wheels over in his chair to Alex and frowns at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Now I am. I was about to pass out," Alex explains, far beyond feeling embarrassed about it.

"Does… that happen often?"

"With public speaking?" Alex asks. "Yes."

Mr. Kullins frowns. "We'll speak with Principal Lessa, see if we can't get something figured out. You're not the first one. Do you think you'd be able to do your speech for just me?"

"No, yeah, that would be fine, I just… not… crowds."

"Aren't you in a band?"

Alex nods, just as the bell rings. He carries on, anyways. "Yeah. But that's—different. First, I'm not alone when I'm with my band. Second, I'm good at drums. I'm not good at speeches."

His teacher sighs. "Alright. Your midterm grade will be delayed but we'll speak with Principal Lessa next week."

"Thank you, really."

He nods. "Your speech is on the edge of my desk. Don't forget it when you leave. Are you okay to leave?"

"Yeah," Alex nods, pushing himself to his feet. He's a little unsteady at first, but his balance comes back quickly and he's able to make his way to Mr. Kullins desk and grab his speech. He goes to gather his backpack then, stuffing his speech inside of it, and waves goodbye to his teacher, who waves back.

When he leaves the classroom, he makes his way to the cafeteria like he promised Julie he would. She's waiting for him at their usual table, waving and beaming. He offers a small smile back as he sets his bag down.

"You got through it!" she yells. "It's over!"

Alex laughs humorlessly and slips on to the bench. "No, it's not."

The smile drops off of Julie's face. "What?"

"I nearly passed out, so we're talking to Lessa and I'll be giving my speech to just Kullins. Which, is better, I guess, but now I still have to worry about it until next week."

"Oh, Alex," Julie sighs. "I'm sorry. I wish the band could just… be there with you."

"That'd be nice," he says, putting his elbows on the table. "But I still suck at speaking anyways, so I'm not sure how much that would help."

"Alex, that speech you wrote is amazing," Julie says. "You're good at words, which is what speaking is. What you're concerned about is how people perceive you. When you have us with you, you think that people are looking at you similar to how they look at us just by association and you're okay with that because you love us. But when you're alone you think that people are looking at you similar to how you look at you, at that's nitpicking every little thing and criticizing every fault."

Alex blinks, stares at her. He feels his mouth open, ready to defend himself, but he's not sure what he'd actually say, so he forces it shut again. Julie sits, staring at him, unwavering. He leans forward on his elbows and brings his hands together, twining his fingers. "I… okay."

Julie rolls her eyes and huffs a small laugh. "Come on, Alex, you know I'm right."

"Do I?" Alex asks, voice pitching up an octave. Because, really. Does he? He's pretty sure it's more due to what he told Mr. Kullins—he's good at drums, he sucks at speeches. Even if he is good at words like Julie said, speeches are an entirely different brand of words. They're spoken word. And that… that is the kind of word that Alex does not do. See, if his assignment were an informative written paper on the impact of film and television scores, yeah, Alex would ace that. But it's not. And not because he thinks his class is looking at him the same way he looks at himself, Julie, but because he sucks at speeches. He says 'uh' too much, he pauses in weird places, his flow is weird, his thoughts wander, and he could go on. There's no room for any of that in papers—well, yes there is, but they can be edited out, is the point.

Julie reaches a hand across the table and covers Alex's fingers with it. She shakes it and offers a soft smile. "You should. You would kill speech class, Alex. You just have to get out of your head."

"Yeah, the person with anxiety has to get out of their head," Alex says, flipping his hand over so he can grab hold of hers. He shakes her hand so her arm wiggles. "Never heard of that quick fix before."

"Hey, I never called it a quick fix! Just said it needed to happen."

Alex smiles at her and pulls his hands back. "I'll keep that in mind." Julie lets him drop the subject after that and they turn their attention to their home work, settling into silence.

#willex fic #willex #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #willex fanfic #ysmfinb #my writing

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