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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years

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Heard you’re looking for more writing requests. And that means that I can share more ideas. So... hai! o/

Hermitcraft Among Us, based on the Grian video where he kept getting impostor, and getting voted out immediately, then Scar won without him.

Everyone knows Scar is a wild card impostor, you know you’d only get one or two kills out of him before he was caught. Grian groans, knowing they were probably going to lose the game. But as he watches Scar taking revenge for his fallen comrade, he realizes he was very, very wrong.

*vibrates intensely* GRIAN AND SCAR IMPOSTER DUO!!

Seriously though thank you. I really like this one and I hope you do too!

Summary: Grian and Scar are the imposters. After a stupid mistake early on, Grian is ejected. He is resigned to their loss, knowing the chances of Scar being able to get to the end of the game without him are next to none. But he soon realises that Scar can be very, VERY dangerous when he wants to be.

…

The first kill was supposed to be easy. And for a single precious minute, it was perfect. Grian walked into navigation and killed Beans with no problems whatsoever, before jumping into the vent.

However, it seemed he had chosen the wrong time and place to pop out; when he did, he found himself face to face with Bdubs, Skizzleman and Etho, who had just exited cafeteria and come into weapons.

For a second, the two parties just stared at each other.

Then Skizzleman let out a screech and he and Bdubs dashed back into cafeteria, leaving Etho in the room with Grian to watch him.

Grian didn’t bother to follow them. There was no point and he knew it.

Sure enough, at the inevitable emergency meeting, Bdubs and Skizzleman immediately started talking excitedly at the same time about what they had seen.

“Whoa, whoa, guys!” interrupted Tango. “Calm down and breathe! What happened?”

“Grian vented,” Skizzleman panted, clearly out of breath. “We saw him. Three of us saw him.”

“Bdubs, Skizz, and I just came out of cafeteria into weapons and saw him pop his head out of the vent,” Etho explained more coherently. “He must’ve killed Ren or Beans somewhere and vented, looking for another victim, but we caught him.”

All eyes turned to Grian.

Grian sighed, knowing that they were all expecting him to deny it. But with THREE eye-witnesses, it would be foolish to make up a story. The only way to protect his partner now was to confess. “It’s true. I killed Beans in navigation and vented out. Poor timing on my part.”

“No kidding!” Bdubs snorted. “That was pathetic, Grian. You got caught red-handed!”

“I know,” Grian growled.

“What, you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” Tango asked incredulously.

“Look, if it was only two of them who saw me, I would’ve at least tried to claim they’re both the imposters and trying to frame me, but THREE witnesses? There’s no way I would’ve gotten away with that.”

Grian despondently voted for himself and didn’t put up a fight as he was taken to the airlock after the unanimous vote.

Waking up back on the ship as a ghost, he sighed heavily and watched Scar run around the ship.

That’s it, he thought. We’re gonna lose. There’s no way Scar can kill FIVE people all by himself without getting caught.

He set off the reactor from the afterlife and watched everyone converge to fix it. After it had been repaired and everyone else had left, Scar hung behind in reactor and killed Tango as the latter was attempting Simon Says, before running out as if nothing had happened.

They’re gonna know he was the last one out, Grian groaned in his head. Oh, this is the WORST.

He followed Scar down through lower engine, past electrical, and out the other side of storage. Scar stood next to Etho at the download screen in communications, before killing him too and immediately hitting the report button.

Grian gasped. He’s self-reporting! That’s RISKY, considering everyone always gets sus of him when he reports, whether he’s imposter or not!

“I found Etho in communications,” Scar reported.

“Oh, and it looks like Tango’s down too,” added Bdubs. “Where did you say Etho is, Scar?”

“Communications. Next to the download thingy.”

“Did you see anyone around?” inquired Impulse.

Scar shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone else after we all left reactor.”

“I went off on my own too,” Skizzleman admitted. “I only saw Impulse briefly as I passed admin, but that was a while ago.”

“Can anyone vouch for anyone?” asked Impulse.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Well, wonderful,” Impulse sighed. “I guess we can’t vote anyone this round.”

Skizzleman patted his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, there’s six of us left. The last imposter still has to kill four of us before they win.”

Grian sighed with relief as the meeting ended with everyone voting to skip. He wasn’t sure how Scar had managed to get through another meeting without being labelled sus, but Grian certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“Hey, Skizzle!” Scar called, trotting to catch up with the blue crewmate, who was heading towards medbay. “What task have you got now?”

“I gotta eat fruit,” said Skizzleman, as if that explained everything.

Scar frowned. “What?”

“Simon Says,” Skizzleman explained with a grin. “If I say “make sure to eat fruit” while I’m doing the task, it helps me make fewer mistakes.”

“Oh, I see! Very clever. You mind if I come with? I gotta count to ten.”

“Sure thing!”

Grian followed the two over to reactor, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, Scar approached Skizzleman while he was in the middle of Simon Says.

“This is for Grian,” he said coldly, before shooting Skizzleman in the back.

Grian stared at Scar as the latter hurriedly left reactor. He was starting to get the feeling that Scar might actually be able to pull this off.

But he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself yet. Scar was only halfway through; he still had to kill three more people. Around this point, Scar’s luck usually ran out.

Just as Grian started to sabotage something to help out, the body was reported by Pungence.

“Self-report,” Scar declared immediately.

Grian hid his face in his hands. NO, Scar!

But to his surprise, nobody immediately turned on his partner.

“Well, Bdubs and I were together,” Impulse said. “So it must be either Pungence or Scar.”

“Pungence,” said Scar.

“Scar,” said Pungence at the same time.

“We can’t really afford to not vote someone out, here,” Bdubs said, glancing at Impulse. “I’m voting Scar.”

Impulse, who had just locked in his own vote, blanched. “Oh, I voted for Pungence.”

“Oh no!”

Sure enough, as the votes were revealed, both Scar and Pungence had two votes each.

Grian was absolutely dumbfounded. He had been sure that that was the end for Scar, but somehow, his partner had survived.

He really might actually do it…!

“I’m gonna do my task in security,” declared Pungence. “Someone come watch me.”

“I will,” said Bdubs immediately.

After the meeting, Grian followed Scar to the right, watching him as he ran all the way from weapons, down to shields, then across to electrical, clearly looking for a victim.

“Two more kills,” murmured Grian, despite knowing Scar couldn’t hear him. “Just two more. Come on.”

Scar entered security and found Bdubs on the monitors. He turned as Scar came in. “Scar! Don’t kill me!”

Scar drew his gun.

A real look of terror appeared on Bdubs’s face as he backed away from Scar as far as he could go.

An identical evil smile spread over Grian’s and Scar’s faces as the latter towered over Bdubs.

“Scar, p-please…!” Bdubs’s eyes were wide with fear. “Please, I-!”

BANG!

Grian cheered as Bdubs’s body hit the ground. “Scar! You absolute legend! One more kill and we win!”

Realising he needed to help keep the remaining crewmembers away from Bdubs’s body, he shut the door to security and stayed there, intending to keep watch. He didn’t need to follow Scar around this time.

After a few minutes, he glanced up and found both Impulse and Scar on their way down from medbay. He realised that Scar had likely vented into medbay and was now discreetly leading a witness to the body as an alibi.

So he quickly reopened the doors.

Impulse walked into security, with Scar right behind him. The two yelped simultaneously at the sight of the body.

Grian floated over to join the report meeting that Impulse had quickly called.

“Bdubs is dead in security,” reported Impulse. “Scar and I found him.”

“Impulse,” said Scar slowly, giving the crewmate in question a pointed look. “Didn’t we hear Pungence say he was going to do his task in security?”

Impulse stared back at him in shock. “Oh… we DID!”

“YES!” Grian screeched, hardly daring to hope.

“No, no, I left security ages ago,” Pungence quickly said. “I was down in communications.”

Impulse frowned at him. “I didn’t see you that whole time, though. You could have vented to electrical or even just left normally; we don’t know how old the kill is.”

“What about Scar?” demanded Pungence. “How long were you two together?”

“A few minutes. Scar watched me scan in medbay, then he stood by me in cafeteria while I finished wires and then we went down to security to do Scar’s last task. He could’ve easily killed me several times but he didn’t.”

“Okay, first of all, he could have been on cooldown,” Pungence pointed out. “And second, “he could have killed me but he didn’t” means nothing to Scar! He’s a wild card; he kills whenever he feels like it.”

“Yeah, but even Scar would realise that one more kill would end the game,” argued Impulse. “Why would he purposefully lead me to a body he killed when he could just take me to a random spot on the ship and kill me with no witnesses?”

Grian couldn’t believe the genius move that Scar was pulling off. Kill in security, “find” the body with a witness, then let Impulse’s penchant for third-impostering take over. Scar didn’t even need to say anything in this meeting; Impulse was doing all the work for him.

And like Impulse had pointed out, Scar could have just stuck with Impulse until his cooldown was over and then killed him. It would have yielded the same result, and been a lot less risky for him as well. But he hadn’t done that. Why? The answer was clear to Grian:

Scar wanted the satisfaction of stabbing Impulse in the back.

Clearly, Pungence couldn’t believe what he was hearing either. “Impulse, please don’t let him get away with this. He’s playing you for a fool.”

“I don’t think so,” Impulse retorted. “Scar’s a lot of things but he’s not cunning. He wouldn’t be able to come up with a plan this smart. No offense, Scar.”

Scar shrugged. “None taken. I totally agree.”

“Of course you do,” Pungence sighed. “Impulse, please, you have to believe me or we’re gonna lose.”

“It isn’t me!” Scar protested. “C’mon, Impulse, you know it’s not me. You said so yourself: it wouldn’t make any sense.”

Grian held his breath as Impulse glanced from Scar to Pungence.

Finally, he sighed. “You’re right; it wouldn’t. I’m voting Pungence.”

As Impulse locked in his vote, Grian let out a long, triumphant whoop. “Scar, you LEGEND! You’re absolutely brilliant!”

Pungence buried his face in his hands as the votes were revealed. “Nooo…”

A grin appeared on Scar’s face as the airlock slowly closed behind Pungence. “Good job, Impulse. You made the right decision.”

Impulse registered the expression on his face and visibly sagged. “I-I didn’t, did I?”

Grian flew around triumphantly as Scar drew his gun.

“For me, you absolutely did.”

#hermitcraft #hermits among us #grian #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #pungence #bdubs #etho #hermitcraft among us #tangotek #skizzleman #Vaunna writes

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channoticedmeuwu · 4 years

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hi im gonna get emo for a while okay? okay. if youre a follower or a moot pls dont scroll by :(

okay hi so uh WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO i am : upset rn. Not like upset upset, but slightly idk aaaaa uknow? i can’t explain, but i had a really good friend of mine leave this site, and I lost a few of my friends on here. Its not like i cant live without them, but not being able to talk to them hurts me and i hope they’re all doing okay :///

i just wanted to say, i know some of us joke around saying that we’ll visit each other and have fun together with each other knowing that it’s most probably not going to happen, so if we do end up getting broken away from each other, if we do end up losing contact and if time doesn’t cooperate with us, i hope you all have a great future planned ahead and i hope you remember me as i’ll remember you. There’s something about our friendships that makes me so sad and happy at the same time, maybe you all remind me of past memories or maybe roaming the cursed dash feels like walking across memories, i don’t know. I’ll never have what i lost as a kid, and it’s never gonna come back to me. And yet you all make me feel like i never lost it in the first place, my home, which i had to leave behind, my happiness, which is probably rotting under the bed in my old home, the memories my families brought me, the old video games that i still seek comfort from by remembering how time changed, my old little games i had when things were still in one piece, and how afterwards, my entire families were ripped apart. My other home, or my now real home, is empty. I can’t stop thinking about how everyone has literally left it. All my families moved out and just left by memories literally

sometimes i wanna curl into a ball and just cry when my parents tell me that i was this happy little kid who was the cutest brat you’d meet. Sometimes i wanna fall down and hit my face when people tell me how charming and confident i was. They tell me that i changed and all i do is laugh.

sometimes i wish i could have that back. Why did i lose that? i was a kid, and i was reckless and sure i did stupid things, but damn, was it all snatched from me? now my family is on the verge of death. no lie. and they’re all moving apart. If my parents aren’t lying about moving to canada soon, then that just shows that after this cruel ruined excuse of a home is gone, i’ll only be able to look at my country in sadness

my maternal family moved out, all of them, my nana can die anytime soon, and my nani can barely keep it together. my paternal family never lived in pakistan anyway, so this place was alone from the start. Then, my dadi will move to america with her daughter, leaving my parents to pack uo and move. Who’s gonna take care of my nani? of my nana, if he survives? not with these morals that are in a brown household, she can’t live with us. Why her? she was my caretaker when i was the first child, she took care of my brother, my other cousins which are like baby siblings to me, she wished all of us nothing but happiness. Why is she having such a cursed fait?

and then, after i move, this place will hold nothing but bitter memories.

but, anyways, thank you for being my friend, and instead of reminding me of what would happen in the future, thank you for reminding me of the memories i had with my family when we were still together and when i was still happy. Thank you for talking about that video game you played last night, it reminded me of my first console which my nani and my nana gift me, which i played w everyone in my maternal family. video games hold so much memory for me, which is probably why i got so frustuated when genshin didnt download, which is probably im begging my parents for a new console. Its not because i want a stupid game, i just want to relive those memories as a kid on a hot summer afternoon with cold water and video games. I felt so happy when i played, i just want it back

thank you for making me remember what happiness feels like. Thank you for telling me you love me. Thank you for being you with me and not having a filter. Thank you for telling me that my words make you happy. And if i have to leave this site, or if we ever drift apart, or if time cuts the very fragile yet strong threat of contact we have, then i hope i brought you some sort of happiness like you all have brought me.

and please, just like i remember you, remember me. Please.

#kai's marble collection #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa crying brb

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pl-panda · 5 years

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Damienette Arranged Marriage: Part 1

Okay. I fell into the Maribat AU/Damienette ship hole and I find it quite comfortable down here. But too many fics are the same and I decided to try something else. I am awful at writing romance and prefer action, but alas I will practice on this. It might be awful, but that’s only one more reason to continue writing. I want to evolve.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from and me for the plot.

Damiennete arranged marriage: Part 1

Marinette slowly opened her eyes. She was confused. Last thing she remembered before blacking out was a sting on the back of her neck. She was just returning from school. It hasn’t been even a week since the ‘Miracle Queen’ incident. For now, the miracle box (now in its new form) and hidden in old phonograph in her room. It was one of parting gifts from Master Fu. He wanted to make sure that she was not in any more trouble.

Oh kwami! What if Hawkmoth figured I am the new guardian. And then he would know I am by extension Ladybug. And then he could get my miraculous. And if he got my miraculous nobody would be able to stop Akuma and he would eventually overpower Chat Noir and then he would get the wish and probably he would wish to conquer the world or even the universe and it would be all my fault.

Her train of thoughts was running several hundred miles per hour until it finally crashed. She moaned. Only then, she finally got the idea to look around. She was in some dark cell. There was only small window, but it was too high for her to reach. The walls were made from large stones that were perfectly polished. There was no way to break them. She turned to the other side and noticed stairs leading to large and heavy metal doors. They were reinforced enough that she doubted anyone could smash them. There was no way out as far as she could figure out.

“I don’t know what to do Tikki… Tikki? Tikki!” Only then it dawned on her that she had no idea where her Kwami was. The sedatives were slowly wearing off, but there was still a lingering dizziness. She had hard time thinking.

There was no answer. She moved her hand to check if her earrings were in place and she was glad to find them still there. But her Kwami was gone. She had no idea what was going on. If they didn’t take her miraculous, it meant that either they didn’t know she was wearing one or they were after her for some other reason. And for the love of Tikki she could not figure out any other reason why she would find herself in such place except for her being Ladybug. Okay, she might know some celebrities and design for them, but nobody would really bat an eye if someone captured her. Okay, her parents would, but they were not important. They are important to her, but they could never pay a ransom. Now if someone captured Adrien it was another story. He was in fact captured several times, but she wasn’t a famous model…

Her thoughts started to drift into several directions. After her initial panic attack passed, she started to look around her cell more closely. The place looked old, like a dungeon in some castle. There might have been a secret exit like in one of Video Games she liked so much. Or maybe there was some loose screw in the doors… She walked to the large block of metal and tried to analyze its structure. After good fifteen minutes, she gave up. It was impossible to dismantle this from the inside. She turned and noticed that from this height, she could actually look through the window. But what she saw was not really conforming.

The snow-storm was raging outside. And there were only rocky mountain sides visible. No houses whatsoever. the idea of Akuma attack flashed through her mind, but she dismissed it. There would be some more traces even if she was only some side victim. But at the same time it meant she was no longer in Paris. Someone not only kidnapped her, but also moved her away from her home city. She was in some snowy mountains with no idea how she got there or why was she there. The feeling of powerlessness caught up with her. She curled on her small, uncomfortable bed and started to cry.

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Marinette was awaken by someone turning the key in the doors. She opened her eyes and quickly sat up. Previously, she cried herself to sleep, but now she wanted to be ready. When you spend most of your time as a superhero running over rooftops, even if the skill is magical, you still tend to retain muscle memory after three years of constant training. Every day. For at least an hour. Maybe she was not in peak physical condition, but Marinette was definitely not weak.

A woman walked inside. She was wearing tight black suit with upper part unzipped, revealing some of her skin. She had a sword attached to her back. Her silky brown hair was loose and curly. Her face was flawless. Marinette would call her epitome of beauty. When the woman walked into the light, the girl noticed she carried a holster that probably housed a gun.

A sword and a gun!? What is going on here…

Luckily, before she could start to panic, the woman sat moved and allowed another person to enter. Marinette used this as an opportunity to try and focus on something else. The man who entered was wearing a loose yellow robes with blue sash. He had typical asian complexion and face, together with mustache and pointy beard like that of Master Fu, except he was actually tall. The man was about three inches taller than the woman.

What really calmed Marinette was that he bowed to her.

“Greetings, Great Guardian. I am sorry we must meet in such circumstances, but the time is of the essence.” The man spoke to her in flawless French.

Okay. So I am in the Temple of the Order of the Guardians. Marinette calmed herself, but then she started to panic again. Oh my Kwami! I am in the Temple. Temple is in Tibet. I am in Tibet. I am in Tibet! That’s not in France! She took three deep breath before looking at them again. She bowed to the man.

“Uh… Hi?”

“I know this is confusing, but we are in dire need of your help Great Guardian.” The man spoke again. Marinette turned to the woman who was with him, but she had expression so emotionless that one could mistake her for wax statue.

“What do you need of me? And why do you call me the ‘Great Guardia’? I am still just learning…”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Wang Fu did not reveal to you who he was?” The man in robes was confused.

“No…?”

“Before the temple fell, he was training to one day lead the Order of the Guardians. He would become the next Master. We awaited his return after the Temple was restored, but only thing we received was a message stating that he named you his successor, losing memory in the process.”

“But… I thought he never finished his training…” Marinette was slowly feeling overwhelmed with this situation.

“Yes, but sadly during the attack the previous Great Guardian surrendered his position so that Wang Fu could restart our Order. Now you inherited this position.”

“Enough chit-chat.” The woman finally spoke. She sounded irritated.

“Yes. We need to proceed with the Ceremony.” The man agreed.

“What Ceremony? What’s going on?” The girl stiffened and took defensive stance.

“I am sorry, Great Guardian, but for Order to survive, we must take drastic steps.”

The woman snapped her finger and two man dressed all black with masks covering everything but eyes entered the room. They were holding ropes.

“Wait! What are you doing!?”

“The order has fallen. Since the Temple was restored, we’ve been under constant attack. For the greater good, I had to make a deal. An alliance that will allow us to still guard the Miraculi. The League of Assassins would eventually win the siege. We did not have resources… I am sorry Great Guardian. I have failed.”

“Wha…!” Marinette had no idea what was going on. But when the two masked men approached her closer, she didn’t stand there passively. With a roundhouse kick she knocked one of them instantly and then a quick punch in solar plexus took the other one. She dashed between the two remaining opponents and tried to lunge for the doors, only to be stopped by more assassins. Behind her walked the woman and aimed her gun at her.

“Sorry girl, but it’s too important. You will do as commanded. It’s for the best anyway.” Marinette wanted to fight, but then something hit the back of her head. She saw black spots before passing away.

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This time, Marinette woke up tied in a large hall in front of stone stairs. She was kneeling and couldn’t move. This habit of blacking out was really annoying. She noticed a golden cage next to her with Tikki inside. The parisian hero wanted to call to her friend, but a sound to her left got her attention. She spotted a boy with ruffy black hair and deep green eyes. He was also tied and kneeling. He wore black armor with golden ornaments and red cape. He did have a sword at his belt, but there was no way to reach it with hands behind his back. If only she could move closer to him…

“Oh great! The sleeping princess has awaken. Now maybe my mother will finally tell me what is going on!” He snarled at her in English before looking up. Marinette followed his gaze and saw two people appearing at the top of the stairs. One of the Guardians in his robes and the woman with gun and sword. She was holding a richly decorated cup.

“For centuries, the league of Assassins battled with the Order of the Guardians.” The woman was speaking in some strange language that Marinette didn’t know how she understood. “Neither side could get any advantage. But then, the Order fell. They were wiped out by their own creation. And now, after almost two hundred years, a great magic restored them, but in weaken state. They knew that they would not be able to hold us without their strongest warriors, so they suggested peace. A unification. Under common leadership, two organizations will thrive once more!”

“To ensure that neither side will exploit the other, “The Guardian continued where Assassin dropped. “Following the old tradition we shall bind the ruling dynasties. For now, through this union we ensure alliance and truce, but once they fully assume their roles, they shall together lead a new organization, stronger and more powerful than any before.”

Marinette looked in the eyes of the Guardian. Her emotions were bubbling and she felt betrayed. Her mentor lost his memories not so long ago, leaving her with all the burden by herself. The only one with who she could now talk about it was her Kwami. Now, for a small moment she hoped that the Order would help her. That with their assistance they could defeat Hawkmoth, but they instead kidnapped her and now they want to marry her to complete stranger. She took one more look at the boy. he was frowning and trying to get out of the bonds, but there was no way. Tikki next to her was also tied and there were some runes on the cage. She was not sure, but her instincts told her this was designed to keep Kwami bound at least for some time.

“Don’t worry Marinette.It will be alright.” Tikki tried to conform the girl, but she didn’t sound really all that convincing. Instead, the sadness, anger and much more different negative emotions overcame her. She zoomed out and closed herself in. Tears were flowing down her cheeks.

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Damian really did not like this day. He woke up in this mess, tied, dressed in the official armor that he used to wear as an Heir to the position of Demon’s Head. The feeling of dizziness quickly passed, but only after his mother started talking the pieces clicked. He remembered the tales about the Order of the Guardians. He heard on how they disappeared long ago. Looks like they returned. He gave a side-glance to the girl. She was his age, dressed in a dark gray blazer with rolled-up sleeves; the inside of the blazer was lined in white with pink polka dots and it had black trimming. Underneath, she wore a white t-shirt with black stitching and a flower design below the collar. The design itself had pink flowers and black leaves. She wore pink rolled up jeans and pink ballet flats with dark red soles. She had eyeliner around her eyes and sports black earrings. It was miracle her makeup did not smear around her face. He then took a closer look at her. If he was to guess, she was slightly smaller than him. She had hair in color of midnight blue which worked well with her bluebell eyes. Her hair was pulled back into two pigtails, but they were messed and unruly, probably because of conditions she was kept in. Internally he growled. She was just a girl, tossed into it. The small cage next to her did not escape her attention. The small creature that looked a bit like some ladybug was trying to give the girl some comfort. She looked unimpressive for someone who would one day lead organization that could rival the League of Assassins. Or be my wife… The idea sounded ridiculous in his head, but he didn’t voice it. As strange as it may be, if he didn’t hurry it would happen. The tie was strong and tight. Strong rope was locking his hand in place in such position that even if he dislocated his thumb, it would still not help. He was completely immobilized.

Marriage ceremony in the League was always short. Thalia spoke some words, then the Guardian added some more and she walked downstairs with the cup. Damian noticed green substance in it. Instantly, his stomach rumbled. It was water from Lazarus Pit. It could only mean that some dark magic was involved this time. Usually it was just a wine, with occasional dose of poison if his grandfather demanded it, either to test them or straight up terminate. They had to drink it all between the two of them.

“May this union prosper between you, your families and friends. In this, we take the first step in uniting the two powers, for you and your descendants to lead.” Talia spoke in the language of the League. Damian was actually surprised when the Guardian was also speaking in this language during the ceremony, but he had no idea who else was there. He couldn’t really turn around to look at the audience.

“By the power vested in me by the Order of Guardians, I bless the union and hope that you will find peace and happiness with each other.” Marinette was sobbing quietly, long since drained of all tears. Damian scowled. She seemed weak. He felt the need to protect her and yet he could do nothing. It irritated him almost as much as when Drake painted his outfit black and replaced the Robin symbol with Coffee Bean. For someone constantly on caffeine he could run surprisingly well.

First, the two adults walked to Marinette. She was in too much shock to respond. Her whole life, her whole future, everything she knew was right now crumbling. She would never marry Adrien. She would never even confess her love to him. Her mind kept creating different scenarios about what would happen after the ceremony. Would she be shipped to the Guardian Temple. Was this the Temple? Would she have to live with the League of Assassins? Maybe in addition to marriage they would make the boy live with Guardians while she lived here. Or there. She had no idea where she was. How would they treat her. She was their leader, but yet she felt more like a slave, forced to do what he is told. She didn’t even notice when they put the chalice to her lips and make her drink some of the substance. She swallowed the green liquid and felt it spread warm through her, revitalizing each bone in her body. She felt a tingle of pain, in every part of her body, but it was only momentary.

Damian planned on resisting to the best of his abilities. Maybe spill the Lazarus Water from the Chalice or headbutt his mother into unconsciousness. He was mildly surprised when she handled the cup to the Guardian and leaned to him, whispering in Arabic. “If you try anything funny, we will kill this girl and then murder every single guardian in existence. for once just do as you are told.” He stiffened, quickly looking at the girl who was now sitting a bit more calm, but still anxious. He did not want her to die because of him, but allowing the League of Assassins to get even more power was also bad. He had to make a choice quick. The guardian approached him with the chalice and slowly lifted it to his lips. Damian looked at the girl once more and felt some pain in his heart. She didn’t deserve any of this. She looked so… normal. With a sight, he accepted the other half of the liquid, allowing it to travel through him and revitalize his body into the peak condition, fixing any damage he might have had.

With that, the ceremony ended. there were no more words, no more nothing. Some of the mooks untied him and Marinette. Talia walked to the scared girl.

“Now. I hope you will be good for my son. And neither of you ever think of breaking this.” She threatened them. “If you do, the League will return to war with the Order of the Guardians. And you will both be killed.” She let the threat hang in the air before walking away. The Guardian left already, leaving Marinetter alone with Damian.

“I am so sorry they dragged you into this!” She started to apologize to him and trying to hug him. His instincts told him to push her away, but he was too stunned to follow on it. This girl was actually apologizing him for her life being ruined? Just where did his mother find her?

#fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #maribat #maribat au #damienette #marinette x damian #arranged marriage au #maridami #order of the guardians #league of assassins #guardian!marinette

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octanesimp3000 · 3 years

Text

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #5

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/79792999

Summary:

With the plan successfully executed, now all you and Octavio would have to do was play the role of a happy couple. But you were beginning to realize that there was still a lot to Octavio that you didn't know about.

Credit for the idea that Octane has a plush bunny goes to @kryzo-stimz!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

————————————————————————–

Unfortunately, your squad was not crowned as the Champions this time around. You’d managed to get to the Top 3 before being sandwiched between the final two squads and getting knocked out by a Kraber.

There was some good news however. While you were not the champions of this round of the Apex Games, you and Octavio were certainly the champions of the audiences’ hearts. Social media exploded after your public kiss on screen with post after post of the clip being shared with the hashtags #SuperSpeedLove and #KissedByTheDaredevil.

Most people seemed excited that there was romance happening in the Apex Games, thinking that this would up the ante on the battlefield, or they just thought that the confession was cute and were in support of the relationship. Some so-called Octane super fans however had resorted to sending you direct messages on your social media accounts, telling you some not-so-kind things about what they’d do to you if they ever saw you in person.

As you scrolled through several of these posts that your fans had tagged you in on your social media feed, you couldn’t help but think that the person who had placed the cameras was somewhat of a genius. Since Octavio’s face was still being kept a secret from the public, the camera had been positioned so his face was just out of view and yet, there was no mistaking that you two had shared an oh so loving kiss.

Although it had only been three days since the previous game, you’d already started to notice the changes that your new ‘relationship’ brought to how you were treated. Earlier in the day, you had been notified about an interview you were to attend later that week but instead of it just being you on your own like you were used to, Octavio had been invited to attend the interview as well. Presumably, the journalists were going to ask you two questions about your relationship which you were not ready for.

Your relationship dynamic with Octavio had taken quite a change as well. When the other Legends saw you around the dropship now, they fully expected to see Octavio with you as if you two came as a pair and you both didn’t have lives of your own outside of each other. Octavio had also taken to affectionately calling you his little bunny, you weren’t exactly sure why he did it but you thought it was pretty cute so you had allowed him to continue with it without question.

Not only that, but when you did hang out with Octavio, you two would hold hands or even cuddle if you were hanging out in the common area. The PDA was obviously just an act to convince the other Legends that nothing fishy was going on but you were really starting to enjoy it. You would never openly admit it to Octavio however, it would just make things awkward.

The first week after a game was always the most peaceful and you were enjoying this moment of serenity in your bed with your laptop perched on your lap when you heard a knock on your door. You moved the laptop onto the bed and stood up to open the door, surprised when you found Octavio with his hair dyed green yet again standing there with his arms laden with all of his computer gear and video game consoles. “Can I help you?,” you asked.

“Need to put these down pronto. Can you let me in, please?,” you heard Octavio say quickly from behind the mountain of computer parts. You moved aside to let Octavio into your dormitory where he proceeded to dump all of his things onto the carpeted floor, releasing a loud sigh of relief. Before you could ask what he thought he was doing, Octavio got to his feet again and said “I’ll be right back!” before running out the door.

Octavio made multiple trips to and from his room to your dormitory, each time carrying in more of his personal belongings and leaving them on your floor or on your bed. Finally when you could handle the suspense no longer, you finally grabbed Octavio by the shoulders before he could run off again for the sixth time and asked “Why are you bringing your stuff into my room? Just cause we’re fake dating doesn’t mean we have to live together too, or did the Syndicate add another clause to our agreement that I missed?”

“No, no! The air conditioner in my room is leaking so I had to find somewhere safe for all my stuff. I couldn’t just leave them there,” Octavio groaned, running his fingers through his hair as he gazed at all of his belongings that were now scattered throughout your dormitory. He hesitated before asking pleadingly “Can I please stay the night here? As soon as the leak is fixed and I can move my stuff back there, I’ll be outta here!”

You didn’t exactly want to share a room with Octavio but you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. You considered suggesting that he camp out on the couches in the common area but you knew that it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep even for someone who survived mostly on energy drinks and rarely slept like Octavio. After a few moment’s hesitation, you sighed and said “I suppose you could.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you,” Octavio exclaimed in delight as he pulled you into a tight hug before dashing back out to collect the final things from his room. Ten minutes later, your usually neat desk was cluttered with wires and computer parts as Octavio busied himself with putting it all back together. Apparently he’d had to take it apart to check that nothing had gotten drenched in the water leaking from the air conditioner.

You sat on the bed, silently watching him at work before deciding to turn your attention to the things Octavio had left on your bed. There were a few superhero comic books whose pages looked well-read, a handheld video game console, a few cans of limited edition energy drinks named ‘Speedy Devil’ after Octavio himself and finally, a medium-sized white plush rabbit. You couldn’t help but smile as you picked the stuffed rabbit up and turned to Octavio, saying “I didn’t take you as someone who collected plush toys.”

His cheeks flushed a deep red and Octavio made a grab for the rabbit but missed as you’d twisted away from him, holding the toy tightly to your chest. “Give it back!,” Octavio shouted as he leaped onto you without a second thought, trying his hardest to tug the rabbit away from your grip. You began to feel your heart racing uncomfortably as it had back in that building in World’s Edge as you lay pinned underneath Octavio and quickly released your tight grip on the plush rabbit so he could take it away from you easily.

Octavio clambered off the bed and frowned down at you for a moment before sitting back down at the desk and silently going back to work on his computer, with the plush rabbit placed on his lap. You pushed yourself back up into a sitting position and once you were sure your heart had stopped racing like you’d just ran a marathon, said apologetically “I’m sorry, Octavio. I was only teasing you. I think it’s sweet that you’ve got a plush rabbit, I’ve got a few of my own too.”

Silence followed your words. You were beginning to worry that you’d somehow upset him again when Octavio suddenly said without looking away from the circuit board he was fiddling with “I used to have a pet rabbit named Navi. He used to sit in my jacket pocket and we’d do all sorts of fun stuff together but he died when his rocket crashed into this planet in outer space. I got this plush rabbit cause it kinda reminds me of him and it makes me feel, I don’t know, happy?”

He’d completely lost you at the part where apparently his pet rabbit had died while piloting a rocket which crashed into a planet. Surely that didn’t really happen? You knew it wasn’t the right time to ask about it though so you gently placed a hand on Octavio’s shoulder and said with a smile “I’m sure Navi would be glad that you’ve got that little guy there watching over you while he’s out exploring the galaxy.”

Octavio turned to you with a smile, saying “Navi didn’t really like too many people other than me but I think Navi would have liked you a lot so I guess you can hold his plush counterpart.” He handed you the plush rabbit which you took gratefully, glad that the air was cleared between the two of you again. You placed the plush rabbit on your lap as you leaned back against the backboard of your bed, scrolling through your phone and occasionally showing some memes you found funny to Octavio who upon finally finishing setting up his computer had loaded up a racing game. You began to feel at peace with him by your side - a feeling you felt you could get used to.

#apex legends #apex octavio silva #apex octane #apex fanfic #octavio silva #octane #apex #fanfiction #fake dating #love triangle

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sleekervae · 4 years

Text

The Neighbour [0.2]

Masterlist

Eva clung especially tightly to Pluto as she followed Remington back to the front gate, her cheeks burning red hot with humiliation. It didn't help either that this kid happened to be wickedly handsome and sans shirt all the while.

Remington wasn't so bothered by the incident, worse case scenario he could convince the guys to order a pizza like he was craving. Nonetheless, he didn't blame Eva; he tried to put that across by keeping the friendly smile on his face and putting her at ease.

"You know, it's not a big deal -- with the food and everything," he assured her, "We'll just order a pizza or something,"

Eva shrugged, "I know. It's just -- you know, I guess this isn't how I expected everything was going to go," she said, "Moving is tough enough with everything going on, and now it seems I got to get a play cage for this little monster,"

Remington patted the top of Pluto's head, "He's not so bad, just a little hungry. Cute little guy, aren't ya?" The pale tabby closed his eyes and rubbed his scruffy head against his palm.

Eva smiled a little, "He likes you. You should be honored, he doesn't warm up to strangers so easily,"

"Well of course he likes me. We have the same hair colour," Remington grinned, subconsciously running a hand through his black and blonde hair.

"You could be twins," Eva chuckled sardonically.

Remington opened the gate for her, "So... do you like the neighbourhood?" he asked.

"It's nice so far," Eva nodded, "I'm still unpacking all my boxes and shit so I haven't really had the opportunity to explore. And given the circumstances and... I -- I forgot my face mask too, fuck,"

Remington shrugged, swallowing the ball of nerves creeping up his throat, "You look pretty healthy to me," he said.

Eva smiled politely, hoping she could attribute the flush in her cheeks to the heat. There was something about him, he was familiar to her. She didn't come right out and say it, perhaps he just had one of those faces one sees and recognizes from somewhere else.

"Well, I should get going. And tell those guys I'm sorry again," she said, walking backwards to the sidewalk.

Remington simply shook his head, "Honestly, don't even give a second thought. Welcome to the neighbourhood, Eva"

"Thank you, Remington,"

There was something about the way his name rolled off of her tongue that sounded so sweet to him. He continued to stand at the gate and watched the pretty young girl cross the street and back into the apartment courtyard. Eva turned and took one last fleeting glance, a zing of electricity zipping down her spine when she saw Remington was still standing there.

Slamming the door to her apartment, she placed Pluto back on the floor, washed her hands thoroughly, and went back to her kitchen to continue with her baking exploits. She tied an apron around her waist, pulled out her ingredients and tried to find a good recipe on her phone. She also made sure to close the window.

She was unbothered when Pluto jumped onto the counter and took a seat, staring at his owner curiously. Eva stared at him just as intently, having half the mind to shoo him off the countertop. He seemed to almost be smiling at her.

"And what are you looking at, sausage thief?"

Some days passed; days filled with doing absolutely nothing. If everything was normal, Palaye Royale would have been smack in the middle of their European tour. Instead, Remington was sitting in his room, bored out of his mind as he continued to press the buttons on his xbox controller. He had played this game so many times, it was too easy. The challenge was gone.

Today was Friday, another Friday that was filled with perpetual boredom and misery. Riding around on his scooter wasn't fun, video games weren't fun, even trying to annoy Emerson wasn't as fun. There was little drive for him to do the bare minimum; it was just an achievement alone that he forced himself to shower this morning.

Lying back on his bed, he stared up at the empty ceiling, closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. Maybe the time would go faster if he slept more, like a hibernating bear? However, the notion of sleep was swiftly yanked away when he heard the doorbell ring.

He groaned audibly and turned over, his dark brown eyes still shut tight, "Emerson! Someone's at the door!" he called. There was no response, not even the shuffling echo of feet. Was Emerson even home? Maybe he'd ordered something off Amazon again and conveniently forgot to tell Remington while he was out.

If it was a package and he'd missed it, he didn't want to hear Emerson going off about having to drag himself down to the post office to sign for it -- in a pandemic no less. A month in and this pandemic was already getting to be old news.

Nevertheless, Remington pulled himself out of bed and jogged downstairs, hoping the Amazon guy hadn't left yet. He didn't take into account that he was only in his indigo dotted shorts and nothing else, throwing open the door without a care. However, he was surprised to see a plastic bag at his feet, at the gate was Eva.

Eva had just pulled back the latch to the gate when she heard the door open, and she was no doubt taken aback to see Remington standing there... again without a shirt. He looked weary and tired, the complete opposite to Eva's glowing face and yellow summer dress.

"You're not the Amazon guy," Remington spoke candidly.

Eva cocked her head, "Uh, no. Afraid not," she shrugged, "You expecting a package?"

"No," Reming shook his head, "I mean, my brother might be, but he's not home and I have no... um, nevermind. What brings you over here?" he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, trying to collect himself a bit more.

Eva pointed to the bag at his feet, "I made some bread. The recipe made three loaves and I don't need that many carbs," she chuckled awkwardly, "I thought maybe you guys might like one?"

"Oh," Remington picked up the bag and pulled back the plastic, finding a round, crisp loaf of bread inside, probably a bit bigger than Mishka, "That's very nice of you,"

"I just felt bad about the other day --"

"I told you, it's no big deal,"

"I know," Eva nodded, scratching at the skin behind her ear, "I ... jeez. Just being neighbourly, I guess?"

"I'm the one who should be fucking neighbourly," Remington grinned, "You want to come in for a drink or something? ... Or maybe we should sit on the lawn instead? That's social distancing, right?"

Eva smiled sheepishly but shook her head, "I actually have to stop by my storage unit and pick up the rest of my things. I'm just looking for a Waive,"

"You don't have a car?" he asked.

"Well, it was either the apartment or the car, and I figure I can survive off public transit for the next little while," she replied.

It was then a truly incredible idea entered Remington's head, "... I can drive you over, if you want," he said.

Eva smiled graciously, "Oh no, that's okay. There's one up four blocks from here, and I don't want to be a bother," she replied.

"It's no bother at all," Remington grinned, "As long as I'm back in time for my set schedule of nothing, followed by nothing, and then more nothing," hey, it was at least a reason for him to get out of the house.

Eva crossed her left leg behind her right, clearly a little unsure. It wasn't advisable to get into a car with a stranger when circumstances were normal, and now couldn't have been an exception.

"I don't know, Remington,"

He could see the apprehension spread over her delicate face, and he didn't blame her for being on the edge. He wasn't even sure if she should've even been in his backyard the other day. Then again, he knew he was being safe, and as far as he saw Eva never went anywhere, or had anybody over.

"I get it if you're uncomfortable," he told her, "But I don't go anywhere. And the only people I ever really see are the people you met the other day. That's it. I just... I wanna' do everything right so we can go back to normal as soon as we can. And you seem like a nice girl and I would hate to know you're having to suck up quarantine by yourself,"

Eva took a minute to think it over. She glanced down the street, maybe thinking she could catch sight of the shared car her map was telling her was within a four-block radius. Then again, she wasn't all that comfortable having to use a car-sharing service since the pandemic started, but she couldn't take her stuff on the bus and she couldn't afford Uber rates. Besides, Remington was only one guy...

"... If you don't mind," she said finally, "Maybe we can just leave the windows down and have our masks on?

Remington tried to hold back the big grin that wanted to explode over his lips, "It's seventy-five degrees out, you bet your ass I'm gonna' have the windows down," he said, "I'll just go throw on a shirt,"

"Do you have a habit of going without a shirt?" she asked.

Remington smirked, "Only on Wednesdays... and when beautiful women happen to be around,"

Eva rolled her eyes, but she was smiling nonetheless. She actually found him to be quite charming, "Well, it's not Wednesday," she took a brief look around, "And there are no pretty girls here,"

"Oh, come on, don't sell yourself short, Eva," he winked coyly as he rewrapped the bread in the plastic, "Just outta' curiosity, is this --?"

"Sourdough," Eva nodded shyly.

"What is up with this sourdough fad?" he asked.

"I don't know," she threw her arms out, "I just wanted to fit in and be cool, I guess,"

"You named your cat after an Edgar Allan Poe book, you're already cool,"

Eva waited patiently outside as Remington dashed into his room. However, he stopped short when he found a post-it note was stuck to his door. He must've blown past it when he went to answer downstairs. It was notably written in Emerson's chicken scratch and he read it to himself.

"Remington, I'm off with Shy to the beach. Text me if you want to cook or do take out, unless of course I come home before you open your door... and you won't find this note," he glowered at the dark blue ink, "Seriously?"

About an hour later, having collected the rest of her boxes from storage, Remington followed Eva up three flights of stairs to her little corner apartment. Eva had a bit of a rough time trying to put the key in the lock without dropping her box, but she was finally able to get the door open and push her way inside. Pluto was in his bed, none too bothered by his owner's presence. It was only when he smelled the unfamiliar scent of men's soap and hair product that he turned his head to Remington.

He was quick to leap up and come trotting over, nearly scaring Remington out of his skin when he started rubbing up against his leg, "What the --? Oh, hi Pluto," he grinned at the pale and black-striped tabby.

Eva huffed at her cat, setting down her box and going to scoop him up, "Pluto! Let him in before you start whoring," He gave a yrowl of protest before he was dropped back into his bed.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's no problem," Remington wasn't shy about having a few glances around her small studio space. It was cozy, yet not fully furnished as the walls were still bare and her shelves were empty. On the right hand side, two perpendicular walls separated the kitchen space from the bedroom (it was more like a bed cubby), and on the other side she had a small couch with a glass coffee table, and beside that a desk that prescribed the definition of 'messy'. Looking out through a sliding door, Eva had a small balcony with two chairs and small dining table -- where she had a perfect view of his house.

"Please forgive the mess, too. I'm shit at organizing," Eva said, having now pulled down her blue medical mask so it rested under her chin. Remington did the same.

"It's definitely a lot cleaner than my place," he said, still gripping tightly the cardboard box, "Where would you like this?"

Eva set down her box on the kitchen counter, took a glance at the writing at the side before directing him, "Just down by the bookcase, is fine," and she started pulling apart her own box.

Remington set down his box and opened it as well, astonished and impressed to see rows of vinyls lined up and packed tightly. She had music that ranged from Billie Holiday to Harry Styles; some sleeves more worn down than others. Unable to help himself, Remington had a flip through her music, you could always best judge somebody by what they threw on the turntable. Remington's smile grew when he found his own record, Boom Boom Room Side A.

"You have good taste," he said, turning and holding up the vinyl.

Eva turned from her box full of novels, a tinge of red spreading over her cheeks when she saw him crouched over her music and holding a record. But when she realized the worn down sleeve was for Palaye Royale, it suddenly clicked in her mind where she'd seen Remington from. A small warmth flooded through her gut.

"I knew you looked familiar," she blushed, "Your hair's different, that's why I didn't recognize you,"

"I take it this is your only record of ours?" he smirked.

Eva shrugged, "It was a birthday present. I liked a lot of what I heard, though," she ruffled a hand through her short hair, "There was one song I heard and I just fucking loved it. It went something like... oh my gosh, like um..." she started humming the chorus to something that sounded like Mr. Doctor Man.

The melody was instantly recognizable to Remington, but he let her carry on longer than necessary to watch her, the giggle she let out while she hummed simply delicious. He could never sing that song the same way again after hearing that.

"I think that's supposed to be Mr. Doctor Man," he chuckled once she had stopped giggling.

Eva pointed a finger at him, "That's it! I loved it because it sounded like The Killers!" Eva couldn't believe she just hummed that song to Remington fucking Leith. She wasn't sure why she had let Palaye Royale fall off her radar, having remembered how much fun she had jamming to that vinyl in her old place. And the voice on Remington was so sexy, she couldn't help but be so enthralled by those raspy high and low notes he would hit.

"That's probably one of the best comparisons I've had, yet," he told her, "They also happen to originate from Vegas,"

Her cheeks were still burning but she lifted her eyes slowly back to his and gave a tentative smile, "What is it with all you cool rock bands coming out of Las Vegas?"

"Like they say; Vegas is built on hopes, dreams, and crazy people," he gave her a wide, toothy grin just to make his point.

"Who said that?" Eva asked.

"I don't know, but it makes a fuck ton of a sense," Remington replied, "Would you like me to put these in the shelf?" he pointed to the bookcase.

Eva shook her head, "No, you don't have to do that. You didn't even have to help me haul all this shit upstairs," she said.

"And leave a lovely lady to break her back on her own? My own mother would be so ashamed of me," he scoffed back, waving his hand at her, "And besides, as your new friend I insist on helping you out,"

Eva cocked her head, "So, you and I went from acquaintances to friends all within an hour and some?"

"Well, if you had hummed my song earlier, we would've been friends before Pluto even stole the sausage," Remington grinned, then glancing at the tabby, "No hard feelings, Pluto," The cat simply stared back at him.

He glanced back at Eva, "... Why does he keep staring at me?" he whispered.

Eva smirked, "He's a very personable cat. Either that, or he wants your shoes,"

"So, if I leave my sneakers on the stairs of my house, he'll come over and actually make a meal out of them?" he asked.

"I've lost so many shoes to this cat, I swear I have to keep them locked up in my closet," she replied.

Remington glanced at the cat again, narrowing his eyes as though to mockingly challenge the feline, whispering menacingly "I got my eye on you, bitch,"

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

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transgamerthoughts · 4 years

Text

What I Found In The Leaves

Last August, as the lease to my apartment was about to end, the roof began to smolder until the place I lived was full of smoke. When all was settled and done, my apartment had no roof. My room was spared and most of my things were okay—this part of the story being set in late capitalism, I am required to assure you that the things I purchased were okay too—and I decided to leave New York City to return to New England with my family. One of the first things I did when I arrived was look at the sky and imagine I was up there. Falling or sailing or flying. It didn’t really matter. I wanted to touch a cloud, to feel the whipping wind.

I promise… this is leading to something. In the months since, in spite of comfort and proximity to my family… in spite of the arrival of my nephew into this world—a child I would climb a mountain and punch God for if I needed to—and in spite of a happy job… I have spiraled into depression. My solution was work and writing. To throw myself into my job and to, somewhat foolishly, take on the task of novelizing my favorite game: Skies of Arcadia. Because if you’ve read my work long enough, it always comes back to Arcadia. I am proud of that project but it sparked a yearning in me. To truly connect to the world I was writing. It lit a fire. Before we proceed, let me be clear that by depression I don’t mean the woes of pandemic living or some disaffection with the reality of entering my 30s. I mean a deep and painful darkness with all the implications therein. Regardless to say, my efforts to combat it drained me. To the point that I burnt myself out and with some prodding from my boss, took a vacation. Which I am currently on. This is not the first time this series of events has played out. I made a promise to myself when I started vacation: no writing. I am breaking it because I have found, yet again, a moment where I must desperately drain the wonder in my heart and attempt to explain to you that I think there are magical things in the world, and that I believe there is some type of magic in art—in that strange alchemic or shamanistic way—that transfers to us. This will be my second attempt to explain it, and to explain what it has to do with video games. (Forgive the indulgence of this introduction by the way; an editor would surely have cut it all but I need you to understand two things: I am in pain and there's a part of that pain which I think points to something important.) This is a story of ritual and tea. Of how my senses and imagination came together to send me on a journey around a fictional world, in search of heroes who both do and do not exist. As part of my love for Skies of Arcadia, I’ve become something of a paraphernalia collector. I bought an old light novel from ebay, I used my rudimentary Japanese skills to set up a warehouse dropbox so that two fan magazines could be sent there and then subsequently shipped to America, and I have drank tea based off the game. At the time, I wanted to collect the little tins the tea came in; they seemed excellent collector’s items. What I found with my first round of tea was art unto itself; balances of flavor and spice and blends that symbolized characters and connected me to them. These were crafted by a dedicated fan and fellow writer. I don’t have the time to sit and research all the ways in which tea is used in ritual. Because I am tired and older and depressed and writing a blog post that perhaps thirty people will read. Regardless, to my delight I found that the tea-maker had created blends based off the various moons that dot Arcadia’s skies. For those who do not know the game, which I assume is many of you: each nation of the world rests under a magical moon. There are six, with one—a Black Moon—theorized to have gone missing. Here was my opportunity for a journey.

I bought teas based on each moon, and one based on the world itself. I will post a separate collection of all my individual tastings and reviews later. The important thing is this: I had been given an amazing gift. With these teas, I had something of that digital world which was actual. When we play games, we hear them and see them. Perhaps with certain haptics we can feel them. But we do not smell them or taste them or literally consume them. Eight teas, eight chances to smell and taste that wonderful world. To touch the clouds. Quem quaeritis? This is a famous question asked by an angel to the three Marys visiting Christ's tomb: his mother the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, who is the sister of Lazarus—the man Christ brought back to life after his death. It means: “whom to do you seek?” I was journeying, one tea cup at a time, around Arcadia. From continent to continent, I tasted their spices and experienced hints of their values, their cultures as expressed through the tea. The question played in my mind: Quem quaeritis? Whom was I seeking? The answer is complicated. First, I was seeking something of myself. The part of me that understood magic and wonder. The part of me that believes in the soul and believes that art, in allowing the complex interaction of creators and characters with players, performs some type of soul-magic. It impresses upon us, real and actual changes. I was seeking that piece of me; that part of me that understood that each cup was a ritual that brought about a communion with a distant world. I was searching for the younger part of me that believed in wonderful things.

I drank the teas in the order our heroes travel the world, and in doing so I was performing a sort of perseveration of their journey. I communed with some place distant and followed in their footsteps. Which answers another half of the question. Whom did I seek? I sought my heroes. I sought the adventurous Vyse and his dogged determinism, I sought the firecracker Aika and her swift rushes to action, and I sought Fina. The woman I wish I could be: feminine, slight, beautiful, kind, brave. Quem quaeritis? All of this sounds like nonsense and when I try to explain the nonsense, I feel a deep embarrassment. To care in the 21th century, particularly in America, is to be weak. To be publicly vulnerable is to make yourself a target. You must be hard and solid as a rock. You cannot believe in magic or else you are doomed. But here I was, chasing myself and my heroes one cup at a time. And I need you to know that it hurt to do that.

I went to the corner store today to buy some energy drinks. When I got back home, my father asked: “did you find what you were looking for?” I told him “That’s a very complicated question.”

Let me explain. Let me do the thing that I feel I cannot do well anymore; let me do some game criticism. In the world of games, the entities we control exist as two things. They are actors; manipulatable bodies, guided by code and controller inputs, that we guide around as we see fit. In this way, players have extraordinary power. In some ways, it is a… fraught power. We can, as Soulja Boy did, leave Braid’s protagonist in a perpetual flux state: jumping and rewinding. Back and forth, forth and back. Eternal puppets for our amusement, avatars for our power fantasies. Sometimes, as in the case of a game like Skyrim, our controllable actors are little more than flesh suits But actors are, more than anything, just… avatars. Video game actors are also characters. Within their worlds, which are fictional, they have motivations and wants and desires and dreams. They want to live and grow and succeed. Cloud Strife wants to defeat Sephiroth and uncover the truth about himself, Joel wants to protect Ellie and survive in a cruel world. Arthur Morgan wants to find a calmer life and redemption for his sins. They are, as characters, people. But since they are also actors, we can deny them their hopes and dreams whenever we want. We can have Cloud while away his days gambling at the Gold Saucer and, if we want, we can force Arthur Morgan to murder to population of an entire town. The core truth of a player's relationship to the character is this: we decide if their dreams are fulfilled. I find that troubling and I will try to explain why. But first let’s be clear: I do not think the character in games are sentient entities. I outlined this relationship of players and characters in a GDC talk a few years ago, using highly rhetorical terms and my reward was the ridicule of countless gamers who questioned my sanity. Some made videos about my presentation. It was hell. To be a woman, perhaps especially a progressively minded trans-woman, in games is to know a very real hell. To this day, I cannot go a week without some type of horrid experience on the internet. Some judgment of my worth, some assumption about my competency, or in the worst cases some proclamation about my right to live. No doubt this is part of why I needed my vacation. But here is why I find the player/character/actor relationship troubling. It is not merely the abstract notion, the thought experiment that elicits fun but meaningless philosophical natter. The reason I find that relationship troubling or at least complicated is because for all of their fiction, the characters in games can give us real things. They can, through some type of power—a deep power found in the act of story-telling itself—impart aspects of themselves on us. For instance, they can teach us lessons which we then carry into the rest of our lives. My father, for reasons I can’t recall, once told me: “the meaning of life is to serve others.” Though he does not know it, that truism has been etched into my soul. It is a “thing” that my father has given me. But my father is not the only person who has etched something into my soul. Vyse, that dashing pirate, has etched many things into my soul. For instance: “impossible is just a word people use to make themselves feel better when they quit.” That is etched on my soul too. Just as much as anything my father has taught. So we come to the heart of it: what does it mean that Vyse can so alter my being and values, and that he can do it with the same strength and “realness” of my father? What does it mean for a character, who is also often an actor that I guide, to give me such a powerful gift? Because let us be clear: values are “real” things. When I tried to explain that I believe that certain things are actually true, for instance that looking at landscapes does mean that we are looking at something real…. I spent an afternoon with former Jeopardy! contestant Arthur Chu and a cohort of Twitteristas attacking my philosophical surety. So, again, fuck the internet… I digress.. Let’s explore: I believe in the realness of things because of the depth of the emotions those things make me feel, and I refuse to believe that life is just endorphins, hormones, and instinct. That music or games or anything else can make us weep for joy is proof-positive to me of the existence of a soul; of an ineffable thing that is “us.” Not necessarily all enduring but certainly extant. And if this thing exists, it can be acted upon. I know this because my father, with his truism, changed my soul. Changed the core of me. I know this because Vyse and the others did so as well.

I’ve written that games criticism is a kindness; that it seeks the good in art and attacks the banal explicitly because art is beautiful. I write today to suggest this: art is magical. It alters us, not metaphorically, but in the ways it can affect our souls. Which brings us back to character and actors. I control Vyse since he is an actor and I am a player; but he is a character with dreams and hopes and personality. And values. Wonderful values which he shared with me. So what does it mean now that I can send actors to their doom? What does it mean that I can control them utterly when I know for a fact that they can affect and change me? I do not have clean answers for this. Perhaps there are none. Perhaps all I have written is silliness, even as I beg you to please understand. Please.

Understand the power of stories, understand it in the way that Tolkein did when he said: “Creative fantasy, because it is mainly trying to do something else … may open your hoard and let all the locked things fly away like cage-birds.” Understand that I am telling you that the locked thing is your heart and soul, and that just as a lover or parent or mentor can open that thing… so can the people we meet in our fictional journeys. Vyse is not just the captain of a ship. He is my captain. That means something. Art is ritual and play is ritual. In creation, we place something of ourselves in another thing. In play, we allow ourselves to be transmuted and changed. This is magic, of a sort. I am left wanting however. I followed the path of my heroes in as literal a way as I could, pulling on new senses to understand the world they live in and touch their skies for a fleeting moment. But I cannot reach them; I am Tantalus in the mire. Ever reaching, ever chasing. For that moment I can be the person that my heroes trusted me to become. Note by musical note, word for written word, tea cup by tea cup, I am chasing my captain. When I went back to my apartment the day after the fire, I looked up at the spot where the roof used to be. All I could see was blue sky and I thought I might fall into it. Perhaps in superficial ways I have shared something with my heroes; I have tasted something they have, even though the tea is not actually from Arcadia. It was merely a conduit to my imagination, to the transformed parts of my souls. Yet, I did not find him and I could not find myself. Which is why it hurts, in spite of how wonderful it was. Quem quaeritis? He is not here. So I will keep sailing after him.

#skies of arcadia #games criticism #tea #dreams

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: Rumor Has It {12}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler-Evans

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

**NOTE: A WORK OF FICTION. NOT CREATED TO GARNER HATE OF ANY SORT.

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Slightly Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤❤

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

You weren’t crazy. That was the fact and no matter what you wouldn’t be made to feel like you were. Yeah, you understood he was hurt and probably disappointed that you would even think to ask him if he was being unfaithful after everything. It was his right to feel however he felt, it was also your right to feel the way you felt. Something was going on and you didn’t know if he was gaslighting you and leading a secret life behind your back, or if you were imagining things and this was all your insecurities speaking. You knew that if this continued your marriage wouldn’t survive.

After Chris left he stayed gone. It wasn’t until the next day you were told by Jennifer his assistant that he’d made arrangements to stay in a separate room until checkout. You were hurt but you didn’t say anything. Though she knew something was up, she didn’t bring it up. You spent the next day apart while he continued work. When he came back to the room it was only to tell you that the schedule had changed, and he’d be flying out to LA sooner. He told you that you could fly with him or do your own thing. The way he spoke was so indirect, so aloof. It felt as if he were building a wall between you.

When you tried to approach him, he backed away. If you tried to bring up the problem at hand he changed the subject. His annoyance was clear, so you decided to let him fly out and you’d find your own way. When you said that he hesitated and looked even more hurt. You didn’t know what the hell he wanted from you. he didn’t take the time to explain it either, he just left. You were keeping count, that was number two.

Thanks to the four-hour delay of your flight out of San Diego you had ample time to think about your situation and try to come up with a plan. You hated to think that bitch outplayed you and created an even bigger issue. Deep down you knew she wasn’t as innocent as she played, it was clear in the way she underhandedly set Chris on you by tattling to him about brunch. She could have kept it to herself, could have let it roll off of her, but she chose the sneaky route. This was a game for her. Before your flight took off you shot a message to Zora and Kizzy. It was time to get the Three Musketeers together, three heads were better than one.

MSG: Meet me in LA. The Three Musketeers have work to do.

The weather in LA matched your mood, dreary. The rain beat down on the concrete from the minute you walked off the jet. It was like a monsoon. Once you landed your phone went off with messages and notifications.

MSG Chris: The weather isn’t so great. I tried calling to make sure you were okay. Maybe you should hang back a little longer to wait out the storm to be safe.

It sounded like worry, but it could just as easily be him wanting to keep you away from LA for a few more hours so he could have extra time to fuck around.

MSG Chris: I haven’t heard back. Call me when you get this Uriah let me know you’re okay.

As you climbed into your waiting car Kizzy and Zora were waiting in the back.

“Woah, how did you guys get here so fast?”

“You said we had work to do. We know Three Musketeers is code,” Kizzy announced.

You smiled. “Let’s go get that bitch,” Zora added.

You busted out laughing and threw your arms around both of them. At least they didn’t think you were crazy.

“I love you guys so much.

As the car drove through LA from the airport you filled them in on what happened in San Diego. The more you told them about Ana’s demeanor the more they thought she was behind everything. Both Kizzy and Zora firmly believed that Chris was innocent and that he would never do something like that to you. They were so sure about it you wanted to believe it too. You just didn’t know what the hell to think. The fact was he thought you were crazy.

The three of you went through evidence over the last few months to either prove or disprove that he was being unfaithful. As you did you found new information, new pictures, and sly comments in interviews that you hadn’t even focused on before. The three of you were like Inspector Gadget on crack in the backseat of the truck. You combed over evidence better than secret agents and the FBI and came up with theories and theories for those theories.

Once you pulled up at the house the case was closed, and the verdict was conclusive—or two out of three conclusive.

“This bitch is scammin’,” Kizzy blurted out as you walked inside. Chris’ car was not in the driveway, so you knew he wasn’t home.

“I agree with Kiz, Riah. Everything that we’ve looked at says she is doing this and controlling it. This bitch is trying to wreck your marriage. The posts are strategic.”

“The interviews absolutely strategic. She is the instigator in all of them. your dumbass husband is being friendly. Unfortunately for him his friendliness always comes off as flirtatious,” Kizzy added.

“And this picture?” You held up your phone of the picture of her in the “eat shit” sweater. This picture really boiled your blood.

“Bullshit, but I cannot explain just how the backgrounds are identical. You said the room you were in for brunch looked absolutely different. It is not uncommon for hotels to keep their design aesthetic similar for normal suites but for the statelier rooms, I’ve seen them be different in unique ways. This picture is suspect,” Zora admitted. You nodded and walked into the kitchen and took out a bottle of beer from the freshly stocked fridge.

“So, you two believe Chris isn’t cheating but this picture overthrows your theory completely. We can’t even come up with an explanation.”

“Take a breath. I know it’s frustrating,” Zora began.

“Where are they now?”

“According to Chris’ schedule, he has the final junket in an hour at the Fairmount.”

“So that means she is also there. Let’s go,” Kizzy said as she sprang to her feet and bolted for the door. You and Zora just looked at each other, confused. When you caught up with her she was already in the driver’s seat of your pink metallic range rover, a gift from Chris.

“Where are we going?”

“Where do you think? Get in the car!”

You and Zora didn’t waste any time and hopped in. If you were a hot head and crazy, Kizzy was insane. She went from zero to one hundred in one second and when she was at one hundred it was known to stay the hell away from her, just like you.

As you drove Kizzy went through the plan. Get to the hotel, maneuver through it without being seen, find the part of the hotel where the junket was, remain hidden. After that Kizzy went into two variations, one that was perfectly sane and the other was straight up stalker. No man had you go full stalker. You couldn’t believe you were considering this. Since you guys had the time Zora suggested finding different outfits. It was just like her to always find time for shopping. Her reasoning was if you were going to play spies then you had to look the part.

Forty minutes later you were parked at the service entrance of the hotel dressed in all black. You had to talk them both out of masks. They were taking this a little too far.

“So, plan A or B?” their eyes landed on you waiting for you to decide how crazy you wanted to go. Did you want to sneak around and find out what you could, or did you want to find her bag and sneak through it, phone and all. There would have been a plan C if you hadn’t talked them both out of kidnapping and scare methods.

“Let’s start with plan A.”

It shouldn’t have been so easy, but you slipped through the back of the hotel which led to the kitchen. The hustle and bustle of the kitchen made sneaking around difficult so the three of you did your best to blend in like one of the workers. That was also easy despite being mistaken for delivery men and having to carry in ingredients for the upcoming dinner rush. Ten minutes later the three of you’d made it to the service elevator rolling a room service cart.

“Good thinking grabbing the cart, Riah. We’ll blend in for sure.”

As you stepped onto the elevator you pushed the top floor button and waited. You prayed no one came on the elevator but after ten floors your hopes were dashed. On the tenth, six people filled the elevator which had you discreetly hiding your face behind Zora’s shoulder. Thankfully none of them paid you any mind. On the twelfth the six additions left the elevator but as you were pressing the close button a hand stopped the doors from closing.

“Hold the elevator please.” A few seconds later a woman you recognized walked onto the elevator. Quickly you dropped down to one knee and pretended to busy yourself with something on the second trey of the car. You kept your head down hoping to stay hidden.

“Thank you for holding it,” Ana said.

You peeked up at Kizzy and Zora who had their heads dipped own as well, Zora had her face buried in a notebook that was attached to the car and Kizzy lowered her black hat and buried her nose in her phone. This wasn’t either of your first times stepping into Three bad bitches mode.

“Come on Chris!” Your eyes widened just at the same time Kizzy and Zora both peeked down to you with their eyes just as wide.

“I’m here, sorry I’ve been trying to reach Uriah to make sure she made it through the storm. She’s not picking up.”

You noticed Ana give her assistant Cora an eye roll.

“Uh-huh,” was her only reply. Chris continued tapping at his phone. You felt four vibrations on your ass and guessed it was Chris texting you. Part of you felt good about that. He was in this elevator with her and you were the only thing on his mind. Ana cleared her throat loudly.

“Sorry.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and looked at the two women beside him. “Where were we?”

“You were going to answer if you were in for drinks tonight,” Ana mentioned.

“Oh, tonight? I don’t know. It’s been a long press tour I really want my bed and some beer.”

“I can deliver on one or both of those things if you’d like.” Again Kizzy and Zora glanced at you. The air in the elevator quickly changed. Chris made a move to look back and it sent your head buried deeper under the cart. He cleared his throat and pasted an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“Choice is yours, I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know you enjoy our time together more with no pressure.”

What the fuck is she talking about, you asked yourself.

“I’ll let you know, but I’m leaning to not tonight.” The elevator doors opened, and he was the first to step out. You watched as Ana’s eyes dropped to his ass, it was then she let out a small moan.

“Yummy.”

You were seconds from jumping up and grabbing that stringy hair of hers but Zora’s and Kizzy’s hands on your shoulder pushing you down stopped you. when the doors closed again you looked like death.

“She is bold, I’ll give her that,” Kizzy said. You dug your phone out and checked your messages.

MSG Chris: Uriah I’m starting to worry. Please call me.

MSG Chris: I know we’re in a weird place right now and we’re both angry but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I love you. Just let me know you’re all right, please.

MSG Chris: I will always love you.

MSG Chris: No matter what.

Pushing away the influx of emotion that washed over you, you stuffed your phone back into your back pocket and pressed the open button on the elevator bank.

“Let’s go.”

The three of you stepped off the elevator and carefully walked down the hall that had several posters from the movie set up. You passed one of Chris as Ransom and you were tempted to stop and admire it, but you ignored it. as you passed each room you saw different actors from the movie being interviewed—Daniel Craig, Jamie Lee Curtis, Don Johnson, Lakeith Stanfield, and others. When we passed Lakeith Zora almost burst into the room. She had the only crush on him and if she had the chance she would lock him in a room and have her way with him. If you asked her she’d say it was only a matter of time before he was hers. You and Kizzy had to hold her back to prevent her from blowing your cover. She was not happy but knew there was a job to do.

After going down the halls and peeking into different rooms you saw the one Chris and Ana were on. They were in the midst of an interview. You watched on and took note of their chemistry. You could see why they were cast together, but it was clear she did not know the difference between pretend and real life.

You bit your bottom lip nervously trying to keep the insecure thoughts away, trying to trust in the fact that Chris loved you, and that the chances of him being a sociopath were slim. You were mostly convinced but when you saw Chris reach out and touch Ana’s thigh just above her knee you saw red. She reached out to rest her hand on his but he moved it before she could. That didn’t deter her though, she reached out and took his hand and hugged it to her chest with a wide smile. You watched the back of his hand press against her breast where her cleavage was and decided to abandon plan A. You were ready to jump to plan C. Almost as quickly as she put his hand to her bosom Chris took it back and gave an uneasy smirk. You pressed your back to the wall in the hall.

“Plan B.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Kizzy whispered.

The three of you waited for your window of opportunity. The longer you waited the more time your rage festered. Every time the interviewers changed you got a message from Chris. Each of them showed his concern with reaching you. You knew he hated when you were radio silent and to remain that way would have been cruel, especially seeing he was genuinely worried about your safety.

MSG: I’m fine. There were some delays and a lot of turbulence, but I landed okay.

You didn’t have to wait long for a response.

MSG Chris: Good, I’m glad you’re okay. Let’s talk. I have a little break at four, can you come by the Fairmount? I don’t want to leave things unsaid especially after everything we learned in therapy. I don’t want to backslide.

At the mention of therapy, you softened, a little.

MSG: Okay.

The butterflies filled your gut even though you were furious at him. You took a few breaths and tried to still them, but it was no use. He still gave you butterflies.

The three of you hung around spying but didn’t get much. There were a few breaks where Ana and her assistant chatted, and she pointed out to her how sexy Chris looked to which Cora agreed. Then there were a few moments where you caught her clearly trying to interject herself to initiate touching. The flirting was clearly one-sided, you could see that. You knew Chris’ flirting technique and you also knew his friendliness. He was being friendly; this was not flirting. That at lease placated your rage.

By the time four o’clock rolled around you saw your opening. Cora who was holding on to Ana’s purse set it down and went over to her to go over some things. It was within reach, so you nonchalantly walked into the room took it up and walked right back out. You met Kizzy and Zora in a janitor closet and handed the bag off then made your way to an empty room to face your fate. The banquet room was empty. You walked to the side of the room where a stage was and slipped onto it. That was when you realized you still wore the black beanie. Just as you slipped it off your head and under your ass the door opened, and Chris walked in.

The sight of him sent the butterflies in your belly aflutter again. You took a few breathes and held one as he slowly approached you. The relieved look on his face changed to a timid one as he got closer and closer. Once he was about ten feet in front of you he stopped and stuffed his hands in his pocket.

“I was worried.”

“I know. There was a delay with getting the messages. I didn’t do it on purpose,” you explained. Chris nodded while keeping his eyes on you.

“Riah, I don’t want to fight.”

“You think I do? I don’t want any of this.”

“Then how do we move past this?” He sounded exasperated like he was at his wit’s end. He probably was.

“Have you slept with her?”

“No.” The answer was flat out, clearly spoken and firmly meant. There was no quiver in his voice or hesitation with his response. Everything from that pointed to him telling the truth.

“God, since when do you not believe the things I say to you? When have I lied?” He took a few more steps to you.

“I don’t know,” it was a whisper. You were quickly being overcome with emotion.

“Come on dragonfly, talk to me.” With five more steps he’d closed the gap between you, but he didn’t touch you. “Please talk to me.”

“You’re making me feel like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy, Chris.”

“I know you’re not,” he began before you cut him off.

“You’re making me feel like it. Every time I tell you something or bring up something about her. You throw up this whole defense. Why?”

“Why do you feel so threatened by her?”

You wanted to throw something right at his head.

“I don’t feel threatened by her or any woman. I know women like her; I’ve known them all my life. I’ve dropped any of them that came in my path. With you though—you don’t see what I see and the more I try to show you, the more you make me feel crazy.”

“Uriah. I am not sleeping with her. I have never slept with her. I would never sleep with her. I am not that kind of man. I could never do something like that to you.”

“Do you want to sleep with her?” Chris took a deep breath and slowly released it. you were actually afraid of this answer. Telling you he wasn’t, hasn’t and would never sleep with her doesn’t say a thing about him wanting to. It only meant his self-control was high enough to resist what he wants. It felt like forever passed as you waited for him to answer.

“No.”

“Why did you hesitate?”

“Because with that answer, I knew you wouldn’t believe it. I’m not blind Uriah, she’s attractive. Have I noticed? Yes. Do I want her? No, and that includes having sex with her.” He took another breath and spoke again. “Do you remember when I had issues with you being around him?”

He never referred to Christiano by name, it was always him. You nodded.

“It was like this wasn’t it?”

It was your turn to take a deep breath. Roles were now reversed. Chris hung his head and allowed the silence to stretch between you. No doubt he was remembering how hard that time was for the two of you. He accused you and questioned you every time Christiano made things difficult. His whole goal was to get you back and he didn’t care how he went about it. Christiano had no respect for the fact that you married someone else. To him, it was all about what he wanted, and how he remembered your relationship.

“Wow. Full circle huh. Shit baby if you feel anything close to how I felt back then—I’m sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t—I should have--.” The words escaped him, but you knew what he meant. He approached you and reached for your hand but hesitated when you didn’t make a move to meet him halfway.

“You can’t--, look I know you feel justified in doing what you did but Riah, that wasn’t okay. You can’t just corner someone I work with because you think we’re having an affair. You can’t do something like that especially without coming to me first. I never did that to you with him because I know the industry. I know how easy it is to get a reputation and a label. You didn’t just compromise our relationship, and everything we’ve worked through, but you also compromised my career, our livelihood.”

Though you were still steaming mad at him, that part of his argument was true. She could have run to TMZ or some other trashy blog instead of Chris. She could have done a lot of damage. You didn’t think that far, or you didn’t care. You wanted to throw it back at him but that wouldn’t resolve anything. You learned a long time ago in marriage being right meant nothing. Chris dug into his pocket to pull out his vibrating phone. As he peered down at it he shook his head.

“Damn it, I gotta go.”

You nodded. Chris stared at you for a few moments before he turned and walked out of the room to reappear seconds later.

“There is something I have to tell you. Something--.” He was cut off by one of the event coordinators who appeared at his side.

“Shit, I gotta go. I love you, Riah.”

The way he said it felt different. It felt—strange. You didn’t have time to respond before he was gone leaving you there to wonder what he had to tell you.

When you found Zora and Kizzy they were still in the closet combing through everything in Ana’s purse. Once you entered Zora quickly averted her eyes.

“Anything?”

Neither of them replied. Kizzy kept her eyes on the phone she held, and Zora continued rifling through the purse. They were being weird.

“Hello, guys. Did you find anything?”

Kizzy and Zora exchanged looks and just like that your stomach fell. They’d found something.

“What did you find?” Again, they remained silent. Zora could tell you were getting annoyed, so she spun to you.

“Okay promise you’ll be calm,” Zora breeched. Immediately you went into DEFCON mode.

“What the fuck, Zo?” Kizzy held out the phone to you with a blank expression on her face.

“Take it with a grain of salt, you don’t know the whole story.” You took the phone and looked through the messages section. You read through an exchange between Ana and Chris.

MSG Ana: I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t plan that at all. It’s just that I’ve been going through a lot lately. Adjusting to the limelight has been really weird and I’ve lost people I thought were true. I’ve been really lonely feeling like I’m going through this beast alone. You were being so kind to me I guess I got carried away.

MSG Chris: I’m sorry you’re going through that and you feel so alone. We’ve all been there. I’m certain it’s the actor’s right of passage to lose people and experience bouts of loneliness. God knows I feel lonely a lot especially during filming and press touring. I understand. It’s no big deal.

MSG Ana: Really? If your wife ever found out wouldn’t she be furious?

MSG Chris: Initially maybe, yes. It wasn’t a planned thing. You know I have a wife who I love so there’s nothing to worry about there.

MSG Ana: I have to say something without making it weird. You’re an excellent kisser.

Your eyes stopped at “kisser” and it felt like you’d sniffed something that was automatically affecting your brain. You knew “Knives Out” had no love scenes with them. You looked to Zora and Kizzy, but they remained silent, so you continued to read.

MSG Chris: LOL. Thanks, I guess.

You skimmed the following messages but found nothing incriminating just annoying little messages she’d sent to him trying to be cute. You scrolled and saw another exchange from just before you began therapy.

MSG Ana: Do you wanna talk about it?

MSG Chris: No, I’ll be fine. Just marriage is hard.

MSG Ana: If I were married to you I wouldn’t make it hard. You’d be happy. does she even make you happy anymore?

MSG Chris: Of course, I love her.

MSG Ana: But it’s okay to move on if she’s not doing it for you anymore. There are plenty of women who would treasure you.

MSG Chris: Gotta go.

The more you read the more you hated her. Another exchange caught your eye, this was from when they were filming.

MSG Chris: I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you like that. I have no idea how I grabbed there instead of your arms.

MSG Ana: LOL. It’s okay. I can’t say that it was a bad touch scenario. I should say thank you. it’s been a while since a man grabbed my breast. I was beginning to forget what that felt like.

MSG Chris: I’m so sorry.

MSG Ana: Don’t worry about it. It was an accident, it meant nothing.

Clenching your jaw, you tried to swallow the vomit that wanted to raise up. Zora touched your arm in comfort but you brushed it off. You were ready to call an end to this “mission” but another message came in. One from her assistant, Cora.

MSG Cora: Everything is all planned for your night with Chris. All that we’re waiting on now is just his confirmation. Also, I see the video of you in his room made it to tabloid. Damn you were not playing around when you said you were going to take everything that was hers.

MSG Cora: Let me know if you need anything else.

Kizzy and Zora looked at you and the three of you had the same expression and you were sure you thought the same thing.

“This bitch!”

~~~~~~~~~

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