#I'd rather be killed by you than kept alive by any other man.

[itmightrain]

One of the things that makes moby dick so insane is that it'll be pages and pages of just absurdist humor nonsense and shakespearean fool monologues and fake whale facts and then suddenly a character will whip out the rawest shit you've ever heard like it's nothing

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 15 of Nona the Ninth

I wonder just how literal this actually is

I don't know that someone watching you like that necessarily means you're being protected in this city. So if this is about the Angel, what does Hot Sauce think Nona pretending to talk into a radio had to do with it?

I wonder if something has happened to Camilla and Pyrrha, like BOE didn't actually take them back to the apartment, or something? I would think that with Corona there nothing bad would happen, but who knows

Things Nona likes to eat:

Sand

Leaves

Ice cubes

Pencils

I'm not really seeing a pattern here with organic/inorganic or any kind of consistent textures she likes, but so far her likes do seem to be mainly texture-based rather than taste-based or something like that

I would think they were burning them because of some superstition that that was how they had to be killed, but I guess it's just because they want them to suffer? And even though burning is how they dispose of all bodies now, there are people who think necromancers can't be killed that way? At any rate, it seems unlikely that anyone will suspect Pyrrha's real reason.

It's interesting, when I read this back in Chapter 11:

I didn't initially get that Pyrrha had killed them, it was only when I reread the chapter again to do the writeup that I realized it. And at the time I was like, man, I'm glad I reread the chapter, because I'm super dumb and wouldn't have figured this out otherwise, but now I see that we're probably not meant to realize that Pyrrha killed them until right now in Chapter 15. Doing this as a liveblog and not letting myself read ahead until I've written something about the previous chapter has really had this effect where I figure out so many more things than if I were just reading it normally by myself. I don't know how much engagement I'd get if it were some other book that's less tumblr-famous, but honestly, this seems like a great way to read books to me

So I think Nona is definitely translating people's names automatically, and they must be using a language here that is different from whatever language Born in the Morning's name is actually in. The names Nona has used that don't seem to be translations so far are, if I've kept track right, are Camilla, Palamedes, Pyrrha, Judith, Kevin, and Joli. Presumably the main characters' names remain the same regardless so that the book is not completely confusing, but also I don't think these characters who only speak House would know the original languages that their names are in, and as I stated earlier, presumably Kevin doesn't know Irish. I wonder what Joli is supposed to mean, in what language? But I do note here that Hot Sauce doesn't correct her about Honesty's name, so Honesty's name may actually be in the language they are currently speaking. I don't think it was ever established what language they primarily speak at the school? Obviously the teachers have to be speaking to Camilla and Corona in House, but I somehow doubt that Honesty's name would be a House word

Right, I think someone told me this earlier, but this is where it's actually revealed in the text

I wonder if Nona fully realizes that Hot Sauce and Pash and the other people who hate the "zombies" consider Palamedes and Pyrrha part of that group? It seems like she should, but then she also says things like this

So I guess this is why they check to see if Camilla and Pyrrha and Nona are alive, because they are worried that they might put them in the car and then some off-screen necromancer explodes their bodies?

You know, I know the Nine Houses aren't great, but I think that might be a war crime, actually

So I would have thought that the Secret was going to be Nona's secret healing abilities, which she's talked about having to keep secret multiple times now, but this seems to be something else, something related to not having some organ? Obviously not a life-critical one, or Hot Sauce would assume there was some necromancy going on. But what non-life-critical organ could Harrow be missing, or did it go missing when she was revived by Pyrrha? It is true that Lyctors can't regrow organs

[internetskiff]

Ohhh man do I have words to say about Crowbar Collective's Half Life 1 Remake

I notice the Black Mesa remake seems to be quite divisive, at least amongst the people I've spoken to. While I do understand some of the problems it has, I do believe it's a really stellar remake, especially when it comes to reimagining Half Life 1's frankly underwhelming xen levels.

I've seen people argue that Black Mesa's a little over-reliant on the Half Life 2 callbacks, especially with the Nihilanth's base of operations being a massive tower at the center of Xen's island mass. But personally? I think it's quite fitting for the Nihilanth. Even in Half Life 1, it seems to be in the process of trying to develop a "Unity" of it's own, increasing it's influence in the hopes that it can join enough species together to combat the Universal Union as it continues to hunt it down through worlds. I'd assume if it succeeded in fleeing to Earth, it would seek aid from the humans in developing equipment and weaponry that could counter the Combine, be it diplomatically or through forceful subjugation. Seeing as it's seeking to unify different species in order to resist it's oppressor, I believe it's quite fitting for Nihilanth's base of operations to be a sort of "Citadel" of it's own.

The Nihilanth resorting to imitating Combine equipment in the hopes of countering them is almost similar to how Half Life 2's Resistance Movement also repurposes Combine tech for it's own purposes, no? While yeah, this is definitely a cheeky nod to Episode 1's Reactor Sequence, it does make lore sense and technically helps characterize the Nihilanth's forces as a sort of desperate imitation of the Combine. They both use other species as pawns to further their plans (this is true even in the original HL1), which goes to show that in it's attempts to evade the Union the Nihilanth became almost exactly like them.

The Gonarch, for example - she seems to be deliberately kept around and permitted to nest in the outer expanses of the Nihilanth's island, almost acting as a sort of guard dog and, perhaps, the first line of defense. It has Garguantuas at it's disposal - it could have easily killed the Gonarch if she proved a detriment to it. But it doesn't. Infact, it seems to lament when it perishes - "Done, what have you done?"

And this brings us to the Tower itself, the Nihilanth's base of operations and the main production facility for it's foot soldiers. I have already touched on the parallels between it and the Combine's Citadel, but I do believe it's almost a clever mirror to it - both appear to be alive, but while the Combine force organic matter into an artificially constructed monolith to bring it to life, the Tower itself seems to be a living organism, the infrastructure within seemingly designed to aid it's bodily functions. The Citadel is parasitic in nature, a mere extension of the will of those that built it, but the relationship between the Tower and it's architect seems entirely symbiotic. Both, however, seem to have quite a detrimental terraforming effect on the surrounding environment.

With the context of Half Life 2, I consider the Alien Grunts to be the Nihilanth's response to the Universal Union's many heavily augmented units. A little disappointing that they didn't really touch upon how exactly they are created, but I guess any interpretation they could do could potentially end up being incorrect to Half Life 1's canon, so they kept the process mostly vague. I personally like to think they're cultivated from heavily influenced samples of Vortigaunt tissue, rather than being Vorts themselves altered through some sort of unknown process. Despite certainly being higher up in the chain of command compared to Vortigaunts, it doesn't seem like their lives are any better - any Grunt with a defect or abnormality is shown to be thrown into a literal meatgrinder, and apart from the ones overseeing the Vortigaunt workers they appear to be almost immediately geared up and sent to fight on Earth. This technically explains why their AI behavior is a little more complex in the Nihilanth tower compared to the ones sent to fight on Earth - it's possible the ones overseeing the tower had lived much longer compared to the infantry sent to overtake Black Mesa, and have thus further developed their proficiency with handling their Hivehand weaponry and navigating the Tower's vertical environment. The Grunts we fight on Earth might have, quite literally, come right off the production line only to be immediately sent out.

The Vortigaunts themselves seem to have been reduced from a once culturally rich species to one doing laborious tasks around the Tower and providing support to the Grunts during the invasion. I wonder if, at some point, the Nihilanth and the Vortigaunts established a union willingly, only for the Nihilanth to grow increasingly more oppressive as it grew more and more desperate to escape re-capture by the Combine. Perhaps at one point they saw eachother as equal - both united against a common enemy that sees great value in exploiting both: the Vortigaunts for their Vortessence and the Nihilanth for it's psychic abilities and the power to teleport things not only between worlds, but also specific points of interest in said worlds - capturing and subjugating it would instantly solve the Combine's local transportation problem. They needed it alive - after all, it was the last of it's kind.

Finishing Xen in Half Life 1, I didn't even stop as I reached the Nihilanth's portal, just kinda rushing in to kill it and be done with the game. But this? This made me stop and stare for a good while. Reaching the Nihilanth's portal actually had the sense of finality it was always meant to have. What you're about to do is doom several species to the threat of extinction - completely wiping one out, and opening the doorway for the Combine to subjugate humanity. It's really amazing finally seeing the end of this Remake's development cycle, over a decade of work culminating in this moment. There were people who thought they would never even remake Xen at all - for a good while, this game ended right as Freeman jumps into the Lambda Core's portal. And now, after years, here you are - standing at the foot of another, preparing to kill the thing on the other side and allow an even greater horror to force it's way into your world.

I really love the remade fight with the Nihilanth - it starts out gloating, laughing as it throws barrages of pure energy at you from the safety of it's shield. Once you break down the generators powering it, however, it seems to grow a little more concerned and confused, upping the intensity of it's assault but remaining relatively confident.

The moment all of it's countermeasures fail, though? It completely freaks out. It throws everything at you, summoning a storm inside of it's chamber and tearing everything up in the hopes you'll be killed in the chaos. It grows increasingly unstable, it's head splitting apart, it's attempts to stop Freeman quite literally tearing it apart from within. As he lands the killing blow, this culminates in the Nihilanth erupting in a destructive blast that wipes everything it's built up from Xen as a whole.

The G-man pulls you out just as you're about to be incinerated, impressed with your efforts and offering you a new job proposal - y'know, seeing how your original workplace is a bit.. Incinerated.

While yes, of course, it's not exactly canon-friendly to Half Life - how could it ever be, as a fan-made project - I do find Black Mesa's interpretation of Xen to be quite impressive from a storytelling perspective. Unlike the original barren floating islands, you can really tell that the remake's Xen has a history - many different species coming together to create an ecosystem in this borderworld where no creature was ever meant to linger, only to be wiped out by a single theoretical physicist wielding a crowbar and an arsenal of military weaponry.

It's fitting that this retelling of Half Life 1's story was finally completed right before Valve finally returned to their franchise with Half Life: Alyx.

[themurderofcrowscollective]

Lycanthropy

In this world, nothing mythical exists. Sometimes you'll find the occasional nutjob screaming that there's a werewolf running around here and there, but that bunch of people are called nutjobs for a reason. However this time around, there's something strange happening in a quiet little town that's well known for it's small-town beauty, Rachel Hargreeves. She's a lovely singer and actress, but she is mostly seen at the cabaret club and never out in public. Some people believe she's a ghost or only exists whenever the club is full, but she leads her own life of secrecy to keep herself safe. During a mission taking place in this small town, the 141 main group gather at the cabaret club to recon as the town's been taken over by hostiles from a foreign country, meeting the one and only Rachel who peeked out of the backstage, having hid there when the first fight broke out. Let's begin. + + + Chapter 1: An Unexpected Meeting + + + The last thing I heard before the silence was gunfire and shooting, but when the front door opened quietly and slowly with heavy footsteps walking inside, I can hear soft muttering among the many men. I've been hiding in here since the first fight that started all of this mess, which is roughly 3 weeks now. I can hear them mutter softly about the other townsfolk who hid and stayed alive, discussing matters of what to do next. Are they friend or foe? I can only find out if I stop hiding, so as I take a deep breath, I slowly open my door and step quietly through the backstage area before pulling back the red curtain of the main stage. The first set of eyes I lock onto belong to an older gentleman with an astonishing beard and a bucket hat, smoking a cigar. For a second we stare at each other before I grab a rifle I've kept near the curtain and hold it at the ready as I walk through the curtain slowly and hesitantly. The room goes silent after I cock the rifle, all eyes on me as I stare at the group. However before things went quieter, I speak up. " Are any of you friend or foe? " I ask a bit coldly, I'd rather not deal with another break-in and deal with the body disposal. The man with the cigar slowly raises his hand and approaches the stage, approaching me with his hands shown. " Easy miss, we're the 141. We're regaining control of the situation as my men go through the town to get tie up loose ends. " We stare at each other for a moment before I un-cock the rifle and sigh in relief as I put it backstage again. " That's a relief. I've had to kill a few more than I'd like to admit, but they've called reinforces half an hour ago before you guys got here. " One of the other men speaks up, a fine chap with a baseball cap on. " How do you know? " " I stole one of their radios to keep tabs on the situation, here. " I unhook the radio from my waist and flick it on, tossing it to the man with the cap. There's audio of a few enemies being taken out but the reinforcements are soon to arrive. " You guys are free to use this place as a refuge or base of operations, despite there being a lot of chaos outside, there's still functioning electricity and wifi. " As I turn to go backstage, I'm grabbed by the wrist by a man in a skeleton mask, quickly looking at him. " Who are you first and foremost, lass? " God that's a lovely accent. " I'm Rachel Hargreeves, you must've seen my poster out on the front door before you came in. Welcome to my cabaret club, it's also my home. " He lets go after we both stare at each other, sighing. The man with the cigar approaches me again as I step through the curtains, gaining my attention by grabbing my shoulder. " I'm John Price, but you're free to call me Price. Thank you very much for allowing us to stay here, and if there's anything you need help with, let me or the others know. They all seem mean but they're loyal and kind. " He smiles at me as I smile back, grabbing his hand and shaking it. " Thank you, I just need to repair the lights as it's getting darker outside. "

[seeingteacupsindragons]

So this may be one of those “I’m thinking about this more than the actual creators are” situations, but it seems like a fairly obvious problem? Either way, I’d like to hear your thoughts.

Where does William go from the dinner party, not mentally/emotionally or in his goals, but rather in a practical sense? While Mycroft and the Queen could no doubt arrange some kind of pardon or excuse to call off any angry mobs, it seems like that would undo...everything? The Lord of Crime needed to be vilified, and to die, and needs to stay dead, in order for the Plan to have succeeded. And for all the Christological parallels, this is a scapegoat saviour whose resurrection would not be welcome. The media circus that would follow if William reappeared publicly would presumably do all sorts of damage to the progress the Plan set in motion.

And...everyone thinks he’s dead, and he looks a bit different now (in so far as an eyepatch counts lol), so people might overlook him at a glance on the street. But if he hangs out with his brothers publicly, or even worse, with the dude who “died” with him and who HAS been very openly revealed to be still alive, people are gonna catch on fast. So like...is he just going to be a basement gremlin and never leave the house now? (Relatable.) Or live somewhere other than London? Am I overthinking this or underthinking it? 😅 

A couple facts from canon I'd like to point out:

Irene Adler is in legal trouble with the government and also legally declared dead, and they decided to show up alive with Sherlock Holmes just to fuck with him. No repercussions of this have ever been discussed

Moran, a legally dead man, has been wandering around without changing his appearance at all, and he was nobility, and no one has commented even though Albert publicly calls him "Colonel" and, uh, John's about to write a story about him. He was literally acting as a servant for a bunch of nobles at the tea party, after being recognized by someone for who he was a few months earlier, and...no one...noticed?

No one has ever cared that William and Louis look nearly identical even though officially they are not biologically related.

For some reason, the nun who raised them originally needed to be Relocated so William would never run into her as she would recognize him. ??? Okay.

While William's basement-gremlin-ness is to be argued, Louis definitely doesn't socialize (Louis has enough family to socialize with), Albert appears eager to never do it again, and Sherlock even more so, so who would even see them hanging out.

While Sherlock's face might be a bit more known from paps, Liam spent the bulk of his time many hours away from London, almost never socialized with anyone in London, and so the major memory of his face would be a newspaper article almost no one probably kept from three years ago. Do you remember the name and face of a serial killer from three years ago from the papers well enough to call a hotline about it? Most people probably don't.

However, three years before, Sherlock wanted them settled in Brooklyn instead of Manhattan because it got less foreign traffic and they were less likely to be recognized. But three years have passed since then.

Billy literally introduces himself with both his legal name and his super-famous nickname and then out-shoots people and does not seem to care at all that there was a whole Thing about how he needs to be dead for Garrett and such. Oh, sure, you can't mail your bestie a letter every now and then because You're Dead and He Killed You for the the Story to Save the Town, but you can go introduce yourself to randos. Okay. Whatever, Billy.

While William's name and face was definitely in the papers, the fact is that John's story is super well-known and kind of overtook the memory of the real thing that happened. The story which called him "James" and his brothers "James" and portrayed him as an old man.

Whether or not people recognize characters they absolutely should recognize in this series is entirely based on, "Are we at all interested in discussing that story?"

(The answer appears to usually be "No")

And I still say that we'll hear exactly what William intends to do from now on after this godforsaken flashback finally ends. Maybe it will address this. Maybe not. William in this series has been a much more active hunting spider than one who merely sits in a web waiting, but perhaps he could retreat to one now and hang out in the basement with his web around him plotting.

So, there's a few points that lend plausible deniability to all this nonsense, there's a few points that indicate canon isn't going to give a single fuck about it, and there's the open question of, "IDK, there's probably something he could do about all this."

[fuori-di-me]

I'd rather be killed by you than kept alive by any other man.

Herman Melville, Moby Dick (1851)

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 2

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.3k

Author’s note: I'm going to be focusing on this series for a bit and not writing any one-shots for a little while so expect these updates to come out sooner, plus I'd also like to thank my awesome beta reader for helping edit this 😊

Warnings: Swearing

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The sunset and rose again in what felt like only a few hours for you. The quick passing of time could be attributed to the adrenalin of qualifying, in which you had managed to drive your way to 5th place. Shock rippled through everyone due to this. Not only it is your first F1 qualifying but due to you being a female, you were already exceeding their expectations. It meant everyone was buzzing with curiosity and excitement to see what you might bring to the actual race today.

You were as excited as you were yesterday arriving at the track, but before you could explore the now swarmed with people area, your boss was already waiting for you and with a quick jolt of his head, informed you to get into the garage for debriefing. Arriving you were told, though you were placed 5th the team would still be focusing on Patrick as a priority due to him being the more experienced driver between the two. You’re told about the predicted weather conditions for today, what tires they recommended you to put on the car and mostly which other drivers to watch out for.

After meeting all of the drivers for the proper first time yesterday, already you had quite a good idea of which ones you should watch out for, and as you left the garage to get a quick breath of fresh air, your eyes landed on the one man who made your lips curl down into a sneer. Certainly, a man to watch out for.

Niki Lauda’s team were on the opposite side and he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his own frown plastered onto his face. His eyes were fixated on how his team was adding adjustments to his car, and every few seconds he was barking more orders at them for what they should be checking. Displeasure curled up within your chest as you watched how he treated his team with disrespect. He was acting as if he knew more than them when they were doing their job. For a second, as if sensing your eyes upon him, his face snapped over to look at you. Those dark, cocoa eyes felt like he was staring into your soul and due to the uncomfortable feeling that settled within you, making you blush, you quickly looked away.

Sure the man might look charming, even with his overbite. His curled hair complimented his face and the overbite made his cheekbones stick out more in a way that would make you want to run your fingers along them. But for all the niceties of his face, his jackass personality dashed any ideas you might have had about him otherwise. To you, he seemed like an entitled brat and the more time you got to spend away from him, the better.

Unsurprisingly, James Hunt came first in qualifying however a few other drivers came second and third leaving Niki in fourth, right in front of you. This meant in the first few minutes of the race, when everyone was tightly packed together trying to overtake one and other, you would be right beside him. From your first impression of him, you had no doubt if given the chance he wouldn’t hesitate to push you off the track to ensure his space, and the thought of that made you more determined to try and overtake him in this race.

Leaving the garage, you headed into the press tent expecting to be greeted by a few journalists wanting to interview you, but instead, as soon as you took your first step inside you were swarmed with cameras pointing at you. The questions each of them asked you however all followed a similar pattern, they wanted to know everything about what it was like being the first female driver, how you felt racing against all these men, but they also wanted to know how you achieved 5th place in your first time racing for F1 as if you hadn’t been racing for the past few years in F3.

Thankfully Patrick who was finishing up his interview with two journalists spotted your face hidden among the swarm of reporters. He chuckled to himself at your plight before finally deciding to push his way through the crowd to grasp your arm.

“Y/n has answered enough questions, for now, any more you can ask after the race,” he tells them and while they grumbled they slowly moved away to interview a few others. Still holding your arm Patrick pulled you back to your garage into a more private quarter where you wouldn’t be harassed.

“The press can be dicks at times, you’ll learn to get away from them in time,” he mutters to you as he guides you through the busy garage.

“I’m fearful they’ll always be obsessed with me for being the first F1 driver.”

Patrick finally stops pulling you along and tilts his head back and forth in contemplation, “Perhaps for the first year or so, but they’ll move on to something else eventually.”

It was only a few minutes later when you and Patrick were informed it was time to head onto the track to get into your cars. The walk there was nerve-wracking, seeing all these other drivers approaching their cars but you, preparing for the race because it was so normal to them now but you reminded yourself that you were the same as them. You were just as good as them and you had every right to be there, like them and in time you would be as used to it as well.

Your team was there to pass you your helmet, help you into the car and to wish you good luck. Finally sitting down within it, placing your hand upon the steering wheel you felt a sudden surge of power wash over you. This was it. This was your time to prove to everyone who ever doubted you, that they were wrong. At that moment, you had never felt more at home.

“Good luck out on the road today.” a British voice chimes in, and looking to your side you see James Hunt walking past you to his car, giving you a smile and a wave. You nodded your head back to him and gave a slight motion of your hand to tell him thanks.

Niki stormed past you as well, though unlike James made no acknowledgement of your existence. Rather he was paying meticulous attention to what James was doing, making sure his crew fitted his car with the exact same wheels James chose to have. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

The first thing everyone had to do was warm up their tires which involved you driving around the track once in order so that when the actual race started, the tires wouldn’t wear down too quickly. After this, however, it was the waiting that almost killed you. Waiting for that flag to wave to tell you to go.

The beginning of the race was always the most important part. Everyone was cooped together and therefore could easily overtake each other. If you made one mistake that could be it for you, or it could be the making of you. Most crashes in which people died always happened at the start of the race. You had watched so many times on TV how a car hit another and went spiralling into the crash barrier, catching alight. It’s the reason why your parents were so determined for you not to drive, for you might not come back to them alive. But it was a risk you were willing to take to live your dream.

Your hands clutched the steering wheel in anticipation, fingers drumming on the underside of it, a sweat bead rolled down the side of your head as you watched the flag bearer with such strong precision. He held up the flag, and with the ring of a whistle, he started to wave it.

Instantly your foot was on the accelerator, rushing forward in time with everyone else. You maintained your position, preventing anyone from being able to overtake you to take 5th place but now that meant you had to focus on trying to get ahead of the car before you. Niki was only a few inches ahead of you but he kept swerving, preventing you from being able to find a path to get past him. However, you were coming up to your first curve in the track and if Niki went on the underside you might be able to accelerate enough on the outer side of the track to attempt to get past him. It was risky but it was a shot you were willing to take.

As you predicted Niki went to go on the underside, trying to save time to catch up to his next opponent, so you sped up going on the outer ring. It meant you had to go wider but as you accelerated further you were able to come up side to side by Niki.

It was a tight squeeze, both of you heading around the corner at the same time. You could see the glare he shot at you as you came up beside him, a fire within the deepest pits of his eyes and yet as you drew nearer for one horrifying second shared between the both of you in which your eyes flashed with panic, it looked as if your front wheel might bump into him.

Niki, in realising this, quickly slammed on his accelerator as you pulled back using your breaks. He shot forward, back onto the straight road now that you were both past the corner but it left you in his dust, cursing at yourself.

The rest of the race went smoothly, for you at least. You were able to push yourself up to fourth place but Niki has long since overtaken that person as well and was now racing behind James in their little competition to try and get first. Still, the fact that you got fourth place in your first race was a celebration unto itself and so when you crossed the finish line and pulled into your team’s pit all the crew were out there cheering you on.

As soon as you jumped out of the car they were running over to hug you, slap you on the back and congratulate you on getting fourth and you could help but join into the excitement, jumping up and down and cheering along with them. Even when Patrick pulled up he congratulated you, giving you a pat on the back and flashing one of his signature kind smiles, making you feel elated.

There was only one thing that could dampen your mood, one person and of course he would appear. You heard the annoying, callous Austrian voice call out to you and instantly you had to suppress a groan as you turned around to face the man.

“You nearly hit me earlier!”

Niki was charging towards you, his body tensed as he pulled his helmet off, handing it to one of his crew and scowled towards you. His hair was slick and wet with sweat and he still wore his tracksuit showing as soon as he got out of his car he had chosen to find you out, obviously seeking an argument for earlier.

“But I didn’t!”

It almost seemed as if he wouldn’t stop walking towards you for a second. He came to stand so close in front of your face you could smell the sweat reeking off him, “It’s stupid manoeuvres like that kill people!”

“We were fine! I made sure we had lots of space.”

“Two inches!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were measuring it with a bloody ruler!”

Niki crosses his arms, his lips curled as his nose flared and you’d swear even his breathing suddenly sounded louder. “If I hadn’t taken the quick decision to speed up, potentially damaging my engine we both could have been dead.”

You scoff, amazed he thought he was the one who prevented it, “Of course you would take the credit. If I hadn’t chosen to slow down, letting you pull out again and costing me a place we might have crashed.”

It was Niki’s turn to scoff now as he looked away and then his dark eyes turned to glare at you again. His teeth bared as he prepared to refute you but before he got a chance James had noticed the commotion between the two of you and jogged over.

“Congratulations y/n on getting 4th place! That’s great for your first race,” he then turned on his foot to smile sarcastically at Niki, “Congratulations Niki on almost getting first place.”

“Perhaps if she hadn’t almost run me off course I might have beaten you,” Niki argues, his harsh glare instantly snapping back to you.

“Don’t use her as an excuse for your own idiotic driving. If she had run you off course she would have done the rest of us a world of favour.”

Niki rested his hands upon his hips again and ran his tongue over his lips before spitting out at James, “Fuck you.”

He starts to storm away as James shouted back to him, “No thanks!”

A chuckle came from James’ throat as he turned around to look back at you. “I need to head off to the podium in a few minutes to accept my trophy, but I wanted to come by and invite you to my winning party. Everyone will be there, well apart from Niki of course.”

“No Niki? Sounds like my kind of party then,” you reply, shaking his hand in congrats to him. As soon as he had arrived he left and you turned to look at Niki’s fading figure one last time before heading back to your garage. The less your saw of that asshole the better.

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[palidoozy-art]

The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.

Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.

Obvious CoS spoilers below

IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.

So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.

This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.

Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.

But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.

VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.

His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.

He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.

He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good

Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.

RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.

I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.

Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.

Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.

One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.

anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.

i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."

[lightrises]

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

[itmightrain]

"I'd rather be killed by you than kept alive by any other man."

- Moby Dick

[firemanshug]

Could we see your take on Rock getting therapy?

"And why only you had to fight?"

"Doc, I was afraid. I have a sister, but I feared for her safety. My creator was already quite past his prime when he made us, and- my father- was taken away. If I didn't go, no one else would.

Even when nothing happened, I was always afraid one day, Albert and any of his people would come and kill them and I didn't want that to happen. I was so bitter when Roll refused to step in, but I understood regardless.

She hated everyone to an extent, and I wish I had her hate."

"Do you think Thomas would have let her go in your place?"

"That I'm not sure. Light never really wanted a combat robot, and I'm sure he looked at me with other eyes when I came back home. I couldn't be Rock anymore. And then he one day just says that Fire Man is my father now...

I could have figured I was a shame to him. Every now and then I would just throw myself to the battle, despite his wishes. I could hear his hushed conversations on the phone with Cossack about me."

"Why do you think he would be ashamed of you, Rock?"

"Because, if he wasn't, he wouldn't have built X."

A pause.

"I had nightmares where I open my eyes to see a battlefield. Fire, flames, the piles of dead family and friends, a moonless night. Smoke everywhere.

I would see a red robot with long hair, who just seemed afraid of me. He reached out, and then, I would feel a sharp pain to find out that he stabbed me.

These dreams would go over and over, doc. Ever since I was ten."

"How did you cope with such dreams?"

"I just... stayed to my side. Looked at the wall of my room. Sometimes I went to Fire's room so I could sleep with him. At least his warmth provided me company... Though I remember when I had a night out with Compass and Buckethead and I had the same nightmare. I could only look at them sleeping as the hours ticked by.

I wish I could have felt envy, but then I'd feel horrible regardless."

The sounds of typing are still frantic.

"Tell me about your relationship history."

"I don't know how exactly I first found love, but I had a deep fascination with Bass."

"Would you say you loved him?"

"No, not really. I just admired how free he was. How he just seemed to feel and embrace all those parts of himself. One moment he would be cruising high on the sky, and another he was shotgun drinking an Alcohol-filled E-Tank.

But I know, despite how I admired him, that he hated me.

He told me to kill myself multiple times.

He shot and tried to destroy me.

And... I kept admiring him."

"Why, Rock?"

"I'm not sure... maybe it was a way to feel alive. At least I knew he actually hated me rather than fearing me behind my back like everyone else. And there were times where... he was pleasant with me. He shared an E-Tank with me once.

But then, I would see him getting along with my older brother or Bucket, and I felt a tinge of sadness there. It was as if I was stuck on a glass container while he could walk.

And then there was him with Roll."

"Can you elaborate, or is it too painful?"

"So, years pass. I get older, and so does him and Roll, and I remember how he would actually talk to her once she was an adult. And then, one day, as I've returned home from work, I caught the two doing the act. They didn't see me but I saw all of it and it just broke me. I could feel my mind splitting up and I nearly- I nearly tried to kill them later that day.

I only didn't do anything really stupid that day because Drum stopped me, bless her. I don't think I would be even here if it wasn't for her."

"What makes Drum so different from the others?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I and her were cut from the same tool. We were children when we had to do the things we did. She just seemed to bounce back to everyone else, but I know she didn't. I know she stood up at night whenever she heard a bump or any sound. I know about her childhood dream of having a huge man to defend her.

She was ten when I met her, and she gave up on being a kid. I would find her smoking a cigar. Which shouldn't matter as she is a robot, and she'd do it away from people and animals, but still. She just would say all those awful things I didn't want to hear about my creator, her old work at the secret service, herself, even..."

[iwalc]

Take me home

Hi people! I hope you are all well! Here is a something I've worked on for a while. Uhm, I realise now that I have never posted anything I've written on here before, so I am a little nervouse, ngl. I've been into a horrible writersblock for over a year now and this is the firt piece I've even been able to finish, which also makes me kind of nervouse. Either way, here it is. I hope you'll like it, and if you do, pls let me know.

Wordcount: around 2500.

I haven't really proofread anything, so if there are anything that's a bit off, then I apologise.

Damn it. I lost. Again. Here I am pissed drunk in a bar, far away from home. Or... what's supposed to be my home. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast.

Almost a year ago I moved from home. It was sudden but necessary. I got into college in London and saw my opportunity to leave my abusive household. For years the mental abuse had just gradually gotten worse. Although I love my parents to bits, it was not a healthy surrounding and I needed a new perspective. I moved into a small apartment a few minutes from my college. The apartment wasn't really luxurious. But what could I expect with rent that cheap. It was alright. For me at least. Soon after the move classes started. The first few days were rough. A lot of new things, new people, new surroundings and I was all alone. You see, I am not a fan of new things. I'd rather be stuck with everything the same than have the winds of change knock everything I know to pieces. That's what I soon noticed. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Everything was to pieces. I've never felt so lost or scared.

After a while, these strange feelings of insecurity and fear decreased a bit. I started seeing people from my classes. We went to lunches, studied, went out on the weekends. For the first time in a long while it felt like my life was starting to get better. I felt alive, not only like I was just existing. I felt normal. I lived in a large city, in a tiny apartment, barely being able to pay rent, eating fish sticks and whatever else cheap food that Tesco happened to sell out, spending all money on weekends clubbing, listening to bands, laughing, getting shitfaced, having the time of my life.

On one of these nights, I met someone. Someone that would change my life drastically, and thank god it was for the better. It was an ordinary weekend. Me and the girls got ready for a night out, as usual. Only this time we were to meet Angela's boyfriend and his friends. Everyone was crazy excited. I tried to be, but as we have stated before, I'm not doing very well with breaking routines or new things, hence my increasing anxiety. To cut the chase, Angela's boyfriend had nice friends. Especially one of them. Brian. I don't really know what drew me to him. He just seemed so calm and safe. Somewhat on my level. The others, Angela, Jessica and Amanda, were all outgoing girls, finding it easy to talk and meet new people, having no trouble being in the centre of attention. I did not enjoy those types of things. I enjoyed letting others being in the centre of attention and them leading the way. I thrive in the shadows of other people and Brian seemed to be the same way. He was the quiet one, the one in the shadows. But he didn't seem shy. He sat comfortably in the booth, a beer in his hand, listening in to the conversations, taking part in them whenever it was needed. He seemed so calm, safe, secure. Something I craved. He was tall, green, welcoming eyes. Angela sat down beside her boyfriend, Roger, a blonde, seemingly handsome guy. Jessica was called over to Freddie, a dark-haired man, seemingly not afraid to stand in the centre of attention, he was very authentic and expressive. At first, I'd say he'd be a bitch, but he was so nice and welcoming. Such a sweetheart. Amanda sat down between Jessica and John and they got carried away with their conversation pretty quickly.

Me being me, trying to read the room, the new people, anxiously stood there, at the end of the table. My anxiety started to peak at this uncomfortable social situation. I had no idea what to do. I froze. The others seemed engulfed in their conversations and bonding and hadn't noticed my uncomfortable state. But Brian did. He seemed to understand and saw my anxiety. It was amazing how he just knew how to deal with it without scaring me off more. He redirected his attention towards where I stood. He calmly called my name. His voice. I've never ever felt more secure. After a few calls, and his hand gracing mine, I zoned in again and once again became aware of my surroundings. His touch. Warm. Soft. Peaceful. "Hey" he said softly, "would you like to sit down?" he asked as he carefully for a second took a hold of my hand, with me not showing any sign of uncomfort, he carefully guided me to sit down beside him, a soft smile gracing his lips. "I'm so sorry for zoning out like that, thank you" I quietly whispered. He once again took a soft hold of my hand, smiling, "Don't apologise, I understand". Something told me he did understand.

And ever since we met that night, at a pub in Kensington, he has made me feel at home. Safe. Comfortable. My pieces were glued together again. Brian was my everything. He still is. The last few months with him has been filled with such happiness and security I never ever thought I'd experience. I love him to bits. He understands me and my needs like no other. He knows how to take care of my anxiety attacks. He knows how to help me relax. He is my rock in a stormy ocean.

Until today. Earlier today, the pieces he glued together, fell apart, again. Today we moved in together. We figured it would help with our economic situation since we were both students. I mean, we love each other so why not. Well. This is why. I am once again falling apart. My pieces are flying away. I couldn't handle one more change. I've broken up with my family, moved away from home, started college, all in the period of 6 months. It was too much. And now this. I love him. But my world has been picked apart once more.

The whole day I've been feeling my anxiety increasing. Usually, Brian notices or I feel comfortable telling him, but this time I noticed how excited he was, I didn't want to hurt him with my bullshit. It's horrible feeling yourself falling apart but not be able to do anything about it. It was 7 pm and Brian was unpacking things in the living room while I sat on the sofa trying not to lose it. He kept talking about how happy he was and how this was a dream of his. How excited he was to share his life with me, to love me. All the while he was so happy babbling away, I was freaking out. To say the least.

My anxiety kept increasing and now I couldn't handle it anymore. I felt my breathing quickening, my hands and legs started to shake and tears started to stream down my eyes. I couldn't do this. What have I done? "Love? What do you think hanging this here?" Brian asked excitedly holding up a poster on the wall. I couldn't breathe. "Love?" Brian asked before he turned around. My knees were up to my chin, hands holding them in place, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my eyes. Brian was shocked to see me in this state of mind but wasted no time. He hurried up to me on the sofa. He sat down on his knees in front of me, his hands on my cheeks. "Love, look at me" he pleaded with a calm voice. "Love" he said, more firmly this time. "Shh you're okay, love, I got you" he said as I lifted my head to look at him. I was frightened. His beautiful, angelic face that earlier always brought me peace and comfort were now triggering my anxiety. I ran. I ran out of the apartment, down the staircase and out of the building. Before leaving the building I heard Brian calling my name, running after me.

That's where I am right now. I ran to a pub, the pub we met at. I'm drunk. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast. Wrapped up so consumed by all this confusion. With every thought I down a beer. "Could I get another one pls?" I slurred to the bartender. But no. No way I was going to drink more tonight. I don't know if it was intentional or not to go to the only pub in London where I'm recognisable since we go there all the time. Maybe I wanted to be found. The bartender declined and then went through a doorway to the kitchen. I heard him talking on the phone. He was talking about me. More than that I couldn't recognise and soon after my head hit the table and I was out.

I woke up in a bed. It took some time to locate where I was, but soon I noticed I was in our apartment. My head was killing me along with the anxiety and guilt. What the hell happened. I had no idea.

Soon enough Brian entered the room. I couldn't do anything. I barely dared to look at him. He looked exhausted. And there was something else, it shocked me that I couldn't decipher what it was.

"Hi" he calmly said as he strode to my side of the bed and set down a glass of water and aspirin.

"Hi" I vaguely answered.

The silence took over the room. I barely dared to move but did to take my aspirin and drink some well-needed water. Not letting my eyes of Brian, I watched as his tall body sat down on the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he calmly asked as his hand strode closer to me but he didn't dare to touch me, probably confused by my signals yesterday.

I met him halfway and took a hold of his large and warm hand. As soon as he felt my hand on his he held mine tighter and let out a breath I didn't know he was holding.

"I don't know how to answer that" you answered honestly.

Brian hummed and stroked my hand with his thumb, looking at our locked hands.

"You scared me" he whispered. Tears threatening to leave his eyes.

That hurt.

"I'm so sorry" I panicked and sat up, only to regret it as my head almost pounded you dead. "Ow," I winced as my free hand went to hold my forehead.

"Careful" Brian voiced as calmly as ever. His eyes scanned around the room, trying to muster the courage for what he was to say next. He cleared his throat. "Can we talk about what happened?" he almost whispered, taking my hand in both of his, stroking it with his thumbs.

Of course, he wants to talk about it. There is nothing strange about that. However, I rather not. What am I supposed to say? That I panicked, that his face suddenly made me uneasy? That... I don't know. Suddenly I felt his hand upon my cheek. I must've zoned out.

"hey, it's alright"

I let out a loud sigh, catching Brians attention. "Brian, it is not alright. I'm a mess. What I did wasn't alright." Tears were now streaming down my cheeks. Burning like fire. Brians weight shifted as he crawled onto the bed, laying down behind me, embracing me like never before. His arms around my aching stomach and my arms. His leg over mine. His chin in the crook of my neck, whispering calming sentences while my tears shook my body. His body warming mine. It's always so calming.

How can I be so damn lucky? I ran away from home, from my love, I got piss drunk at a pub, and still, he took me home, taking care of me, holding me, loving me like no other. It's suffocating in the best way.

The tears calmed down. "Brian, I want to come home", I sniffed, crampingly grabbing onto his large, warm hand. "I'm hurting. I'm so lost. Confused. Angry." the tears were now rapidly streaming down my face again as I poured my aching heart out. "I really had to get away from home to live my life, to get better. When I first got here I felt cheated. It was so hard and I've never been worse my whole life. I've never felt more alone, left out, beaten up." I kept rambling on. "I know, love, I know." Brian cooed into my neck, stroking my arm. "But you don't Brian. I can't seem to find my way home. I'm so lost." I said as tears wrecked my body. Brian, holding me, securing me, hushing me, whispering sweet things. "I don't even know how you put up with me. I'm so broken. I came to you with a broken faith, and you gave me more than a hand to hold." The first time I voiced my fear and insecurity about how Brian feel about me. I'm so scared he'll leave me. He's all I've got. "Love, shh, It's ok. Hey, listen to me." he started as he turned me so I could look at him. "I understand that you feel like you're lost, I really do. Everything you've ever known has changed in less than a year. Space will eventually make it better, time will make it heal, and soon enough you won't feel like you're haunted. You won't be lost forever!" He praised as his hand stroked my cheek. Emphasizing the last sentence. I won't be lost forever.

"I'm so scared Brian"

"I know baby" he embraced me, "I know."

"I need you, Brian, don't leave me please, you're all I've got." I cried into his chest.

"Baby I won't. I never could. I love you! I will hold you. I will take you home. I'll be here every step of the way. I'll be your home." He said as my body once more broke down in tears.

I know there must be somewhere better because he always takes me there. Maybe I've found my home. I think he's my home.

[fictionwordcounts]

Home [Anakin x Reader]

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: You're on the desolate planet of Dagobah, and things are a far less than exciting. However, someone crashing close to your home changes everything.

Requested on Wattpad.com at StarkWars084

You were whittling away at a stubborn piece of wood when you saw a ship of some sort fall from the sky not far away. You jumped up from the small chair you had made and examined the smoke trail in awe. Nothing exciting ever happened on this disgusting swamp planet and you absolutely had to go to the crash sight.

Smiling to yourself, you climbed down your tree house and headed off in the direction of the crashed, mysterious object. Wading through the thick mud was easy and you started walking a ways off, but stopped suddenly. You reached toward your back only to grasp empty air-- you'd left your weapon at home. You were furious with yourself for forgetting such an important tool. The planet you were on was nowhere shy of dangerous creatures. Looking over at a large stick on the ground, you decided it would have to do. You grasped it tightly and continued on until you found a broken ship submerged in quick sand. If anyone was alive in there, they certainly weren't now. It was a shame too. You were hoping to find someone (You didn't care who) to make life more interesting. You would have settled for anything in fact.

The sand prevented you from investigating closer, but it was just as amazing from where you were. Sure you had seen ships before, but that was a long time ago, before you came here. The ship was swallowed up quickly by the hungry sand and you strained to see the last bit of the tail disappear. You were about to leave when you noticed footprints leading off from where the plain had been. A sound from behind you made you jump, and you spun around with your makeshift weapon in hand. A man with shoulder-length dark hair and clothes caked in sand stood there. His eyes were kind and calm despite the large stick only inches from his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he stated. Even if it wasn't his intention, he had scared you a great deal, and you found yourself unable to lower the stick. He slowly raised his hands and started pushing the weapon down, and you let him since you couldn't do it yourself.

"Who are you?" You asked him once you had found your voice.

"It's alright, I'm Anakin Skywalker. I'm a Jedi, and I can help you off this planet," he answered. "I could take you as far as Coruscant, if you like."

You bit your tongue and changed your mind. I'm not okay with anything! you decided, I wanted anything but a Jedi. The Jedi were the people you had tried to escape in coming here. You had thought you wanted to be one at one time, but they had rejected you when you had failed their ridiculous trials. Now there was one here, though you had chosen to live on one of the most remote planets you could find. You were angry with him though you knew it was not him alone that had denied you the position.

"Well, I'm very glad you've found a way to get home," you said, trying to maintain a steady voice. "You can do so alone. I wish you luck." With that, you spun around and headed back to the home you had made. Sloshing footsteps and swinging branches told you that he was stumbling right behind.

"Hold on!" He called after you. You were nearly running, and you would've kept going, but this was the only social interaction you would get for who knew how long. You rolled your eyes and slowed so he could catch up. "It's dangerous out here alone," he warned.

You slowly turned around and rolled your eyes. "Is it?" you scoffed and took in a deep breath while you tried to get your thoughts together. "Listen, I do appreciate the offer, but I have no interest in heading back to anywhere the Jedi Council is."

"What do you mean back?" he questioned. "You mean you've been there before?"

You glared at him. "Do the Jedi now find things easy to forget?" you felt yourself shaking and tried desperately to stand completely still. You're not mad at him, you told yourself. You knew you shouldn't be mad at all, but it grew more difficult the more he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," Anakin apologized. "But at least let me take you to a safer, more populated planet." You almost laughed now.

Gesturing to land around, you responded, "Even if I wanted to leave, how would we?" Anakin looked around.

"I'd find a way," He insisted. You knew there was really nothing he could do, but you liked his determination.

Still, you weren't sold on the idea of returning. "Well," you started hesitantly. "If you're going to find a way back, you'll need a place to stay." You gestured for him to follow you. He was surprisingly good at navigating through the mud. He knew exactly where to step and where not to. You guessed it was the Force showing him the way. It had for you, too, before you memorized the land. When you got to the lake that was not far from your tree house, you made Anakin scrub off all the sand off his arms and neck.

When you made it back to your home you showed Anakin the way up the tree. "You built this?" He asked you once he was at the top.

You nodded proudly. "It took me a while, but it finally came together." You ran your hand across the railing you had put up. You were rather proud of your work and had a right to be. It was sturdy and homely which was perfect for where you lived. "You could probably stay just outside my kitchen for now. Tomorrow I'll have to make a proper bed for you."

Anakin nodded to show he understood then looked questioningly at you. "If I'm going to stay here, I need to know your name."

You had completely forgotten to introduce yourself! You scolded yourself inwardly. "Y/N," you told him.

He smiled "Thank you for offering your home to me, Y/N" You knew he was just being polite. He wouldn't have the comfort of a bed like the one you had made, and you couldn't make one now. You didn't have the items you would need, and it was getting too dark to gather any.

"I recommend you don't leave the house until dawn," you suggested. "The creatures here love the dark."

"I wont," he assured you. Even though he was a Jedi, you knew you couldn't leave him to figure that out on his own.

You would help him the best you could. You didn't hate him. In fact, you found it hard to dislike him. But it was impossible to ignore his title: Jedi. Just thinking the name made you shudder.  You wished him a good night, and Anakin took his robe off and lay down on one of your pillows. He pulled the robe over himself to stay warm and you went to your moss bed. It was actually a nice, comfortable bed that took you a while to complete. You looked over at Anakin who was still awake, staring up at the sky, and your stomach twisted. He wanted to go home, but you couldn't help him do that. The best you could do was make sure he didn't freeze, starve, or get killed by ravenous animals, so that's what you would do. You would keep him alive until he could get back home.

________________________________________________________________________________

You woke up earlier than usual and dressed quickly. You decided to go hunting in hopes of finding some meat to balance out the root stew you would make. As you slipped the cotton shirt over your head, you realized that you didn't have any extra clothes for Anakin to change into, and his clothes were still covered in mud that had dried over. Surely, it wasn't a comfortable way to live. You walked over to Anakin who was fidgeting and stirring in his sleep. You would have to make him a change of clothes as soon as possible.

You grabbed your spear and knife and climbed down the tree easily. You wanted to do this quickly so you could start working on the other projects Anakin's arrival had made for you. You waited at some rocks near the lake with your knife in hand. Nudj, you knew, were lizard-like creatures that stayed around this area. You had only killed a few before, but they weren't bad. When a brave nudj climbed the rocks you quickly threw your knife and pierced it's skin. It thrashed for a second before falling still. You knew the alarm it let out would warn the others and keep you from getting anymore from there. You retrieved the knife and nudj and headed to a different patch of rocks. You repeated this pattern four more times until you had three of the lizards to take back. You jogged back to the tree and climbed up. Anakin was awake.

"Good morning," you called to him. His face was pale and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." You looked him over worriedly. Treating disease was not something you could cram into today. Deciding to leave him be, you started preparing a stew from roots herbs and the nudj you caught earlier. Anakin came up to you and watched for a little bit.

You turned to him while the stew cooked. "Have you figured out how you'll be getting back?" you questioned.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't, but I'll find a way," he answered confidently. Surely he knew he wouldn't be able to. The only thing that flew on the planet were the bogwings, and you didn't want to mess with them.

"I'll have to make you a change of clothes," you told him. "I'll do that after we eat." You turned back to the food and stirred it.

"Thank you," Anakin said. You pointed to a small pot you had sitting by.

"If you're going to stay here though," you announced. "You'll have to help and boil some of that water."

He smiled and took the full pot to a small fire you had going.

After you and Anakin had finished eating, you walked over to a bin where you kept thread and fabric. You hadn't expected to use it really so you were happy you found a use for it. You sent Anakin to wash the dishes, but it didn't keep him busy for long. He came to where you were working.

"Tell me about the time you were with the Jedi council," he requested.

You stiffened. Of course, he would be curious, but you didn't want to talk about it. You just wanted him to have a magical solution to leave and do so. You hesitated, trying to play out the conversation in your head.

"When I was younger," you started. "All I wanted to be was a Jedi. I looked up to them and my parents did too." A lump formed in your throat. "They noticed me, finally, and I trained for a long time until I became a Padawan. I wasn't long after that my parents were killed. I couldn't preform as well as they wanted me to. I could only think about them, hoping they would come back. It devastated me, and at times, I even felt resentment--hatred. You know that's not acceptable for Jedi." You inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from your cheek with your fingertips. "They expelled me, and I left. I was angry with the council." You gritted your teeth. "I was angry with Master Yoda."

Anakin looked puzzled. "Master Yoda is very wise," he defended. "I'm sure he had a good reason."

You wiped your face and looked at him reasonably. "Master Yoda has it all wrong," you argued. "There has never once been a Jedi who has kept to the code completely. Our emotions make us human, and those that embrace that are the ones he wants to get rid of. He can't turn us into his mindless, emotionless robots to fight his battles for him."

Anakin was silent. The whole time you were talking your hands were working on the outfit for him.

"But never mind," you attempted a smile. "I finished your outfit." You turned around while Anakin switched his clothes. When he was finished you turned back to see your work. You laughed out loud. The clothes looked absolutely ridiculous. They were baggy and blended into each other making it look like one piece.

"Well, it's a start," he teased, smiling. "At least now I'm not covered in sand from head to toe."

You made a note to yourself to practice your seamstress skills later.

You had just finished the bed for Anakin when the sun sank behind the trees. He slept on it well the first night, but he grew restless from nightmares that not even the most comfortable of beds could fix. You often had to sit by his bed with a cold cloth to calm him. He told you they were of his mother. He had to watch her die over and over again every night and it made him miserable. You did the best you could, but that wasn't much. There were nights when he would wake up suddenly, and you would have to speak quietly and soothingly to him until he could fall asleep again. At first it bothered you, but it troubled you more now.

Anakin had stayed with you for two weeks before a ship landed right next to the lake where you were gathering water one day. You dropped the bucket and ran to the ship. The door opened and a light-haired, bearded man emerged confidently. His eyes were tired but that didn't change how he acted.

"Hello there!" he called to you. "Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. Could you give me a hand with something?" Stunned you nodded and beckoned him forward. "I'm sorry about landing here without permission. I didn't think this planet was populated. I'll leave soon, but I seem to have lost something and I need help finding it," he explained.

"What did you loose?" you asked him, though you could already guess. Obi-Wan looked at you warily.

"His name is Anakin Skywalker."

You froze. When Anakin arrived, the thought that he might have someone looking for him hadn't even occurred to you. He was back at the tree house preparing food for the both of you. You weren't sure if you should get him or not. As if he heard his name called Anakin came running up from behind you.

Obi-Wan perked up. "Anakin!" He called cheerfully. "I'm glad you're alive, Anakin. You had us all worried." Despite the fact that this man had brought Anakin a way home, he didn't look all that happy.

"You shouldn't have come for me, Master." Anakin said. "You could've saved supplies and time going on without me."

"Anakin don't talk like that," Obi-Wan commanded. "You are my friend, and I will not leave you like that."

Obi-Wan looked at you. "I thank you for any help you have given my young apprentice. You will be paid in whatever currency you find acceptable." He turned back to Anakin. "Let's go, Anakin. Master Yoda will be happy to know you're alright."

Your heart sank. Anakin had found a way to leave after all. This is what you wanted. You reminded yourself. Once he's gone, life will be normal again. Boring and normal. You didn't want him to go now, but what could you do? It was Anakin's decision, and he was already following his master. You stood there waiting for the ship to take off, but it never did. In fact the door opened once again and both of them walked out.

"Is everything okay?" You questioned with a small glimmer of hope that the ship might not start. Anakin was looking much happier now and Obi-Wan more upset.

"It appears," Obi-Wan spoke first. "That Anakin will be staying with you," he explained.

You looked at Anakin who was next to you now.

"Are you serious?" you asked quietly, though your heart was beating rapidly.

He looked up at Obi-Wan. "Thank you for your training, Master," he said respectfully. Obi-Wan nodded blankly.

"I don't know what I'll tell the council," he said almost talking to himself.

Anakin smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he assured. Obi-Wan looked up and smiled.

"Yes, well, I'll still have to pay you, Y/N," he said. "I'll go and get whatever supplies you'll need." He looked at Anakin again and laughed. "And good heavens hopefully some proper clothes." You both laughed merrily. You felt wonderful and couldn't stop smiling.

Obi-Wan left and Anakin hugged you tightly.

"You're really staying," you whispered.

He chuckled. "Yes, I am." He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "You were right, Y/N. I shouldn't try to push any emotions aside anymore." He rested his hand on your cheek. "I love you, Y/N." He grabbed your hand. "Let's go home."

[stargaze-issei]

— "𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; when your father, the head of the japanese mafia, was killed, your childhood friend swore to protect you till his death. now, you're the empress of the underground world, and he doesn't know what's harder, to keep you safe or manage to hide his feelings. what will he do when, for the first time, your life's at risk and he isn't anywhere near?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; mafia!au, angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; swearing, mentions of blood, guns, murder, kidnap, yk... mafia stuff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; lemme know if u want a part two bc i felt like it was getting too long and i don't know if anyone will read it or like it 👉🏻👈🏻

"where the fuck are you?" bakugou's voice stroke over the phone, noticeably angry. he had told you several times to never go anywhere without him, which you mostly did, if it weren't for him being away a lot of times. nothing less was expected from your right hand, who handled every dirty job, and considering your line of work, it wasn't scarce. but you did had other bodyguards, just as trained as katsuki, willing to give their lifes for you, which was extremely better than having bakugou giving his life.

to his eyes, you were still the little girl from before. he saw you as a someone who needed protection. at first, you agreed. your father was murdered, someone managed to get through all his security and killed him, none of the guns he and his security team carried around could protect him, killing you would be like stealing a sweet from a baby. bakugou had always kept you safe, despite his agressive usual safe, he cared about you more than he cared for himself. so you stuck to his side, believing, hoping, he'd die for you. but that was a long time ago, now, you could defend yourself, and had raised a sense of loyalty in your people by your own. your father's empire was based in fear, yours? by admiration. you didn't see your people as working ants, but as important parts of a whole. still, anyone who was a threat to you, bakugou made sure to erase them forever.

"don't talk to me like that, i'm your boss" you could feel him losing his shit, a smile began to form in your face. even when everyone respected you, he was still the same.

"you can't boss anyone if you're fucking dead, you dumb shit" a laugh came out of your throat, he couldn't avoid smiling at the sound "wait, oh, okay, i know we're you are. stay there, i'll be in three" he hung up before you could reply.

you looked back, at one of your guards who was just putting away his phone. of course they told him. why couldn't you go get your own coffee? being in the office all day was tiring, to be five minutes outside was all you asked for. a few seconds after, they handed you your coffee, obviously, a guard had to try it first, in case that barista wanted to suddenly murder you. of course he didn't.

"who let her go outside without me knowing, huh?" a furious katsuki appeared through the door, making a scene in the place. you gave him a warning look. if there was something you hated, was that. everyone in the area knew who you were, but why make it any more obvious. those people were just living their usual lifes, and people tend to get nervous around you. "the car is waiting outside" he understood, but you knew he was going to scold you anyways.

you walked outside, smiling, and got into the car, followed by katsuki and one of his subordinates, the other one got in the front sit, next to the driver.

"save it, i'm n–"

"the fuck you are" he cut you "your safety is my responsibility, if i say you can't go out without me, then you fucking don't. specially not when there are people after your head" there was no denying he was right, but still, it upset you.

"there's always people after my head, bakugou".

two weeks ago, two men went into your office. they were in charge of some dealing territories, though small, important. most contraband had to pass those places, you controlled those police departments making everything easier to your truck drivers. they were beaten, cover in blood and barely standing.

"our men, all of them... they all..." only one of them could talk, the other being too shocked to even look at you. "kazuhito's men, it was them... they said we had to tell you, they're coming after you" you couldn't show any fear in front of your so called soldiers, and your template remained at ease. a shout was enough to get those men the help they needed, after holding their hands, you promised to go see them once they were checked by doctors. you called bakugou as soon as they left, he was the first who should know and help you decide what to do next.

the kazuhito family had always been rivals, enemies of the worst kind. everyone suspect they were behind your father's assassination, but with no proof, even you knew it would be the biggest mistake to charge against them, despite your personal desires.

"i already told the drivers they had to take rout b for a while, but we can't let them just keep what's our" you explained to katsuki once he arrived. "those drugs have to get in town by us, damnit". it was clear how frustrated you were, those assholes had mess with your and your father's hardwork.

"if we retaliate, a war will unchain. your father tried to avoid that for years"

"and see how he ended up" bakugou didn't know if it was the anger, or you talking. "we will lose everyone's respect if we don't do something, they killed dozens of our people, katsuki".

he was trying hard to stay objective in that situation, but it was near impossible. a war would put you in more danger than ever, your life was at stake, and bakugou wasn't sure if he was willing to risk it. growing up by your side, your father taking him in when his parents died, you were his only family. more than that, he loved you. the only reason he was able to do his job right, was the fear of losing you. your head was already valued in millions, how could he protect you in the middle of a conflict, that would end only with your death or the kazuhito's leader's death? your power was bigger than theirs by little, but they did something that reckless, which meant they thought they had out powered you. had they? or were they just bluffing? had they miscalculated?.

"we're taking action, wether you support me or not" you looked into each other's eyes, you knew him enough to understand his fear, just not the reason behind it. your voice softened "but i'd much rather do it with you by my side".

"you're the boss" he spoke, already regretting it "i'll schedule a meeting so the high charges let everyone else know, i'm staying at your place so we can trace a plan".

and there you were now, being reprimanded by bakugou. he was extremely tired, he decided to stay with you until things were calmer, which could be several months from then. getting up at six a.m, going to sleep past midnight, being always looking for possible threats, it had given him bags under his eyes.

"i'm sorry" you said once you were alone with him, it was only then that you could let your guard down "i'm making this harder for you".

"yeah, you are. but it's my job, after all" that came out wrong, he thought. it wasn't his job, it was his fucking life purpose. he wanted you to live a long, happy life, as hard as it seemed.

"i guess it is" deep down, his response disappointed you.

"hey, look at me" out of nowhere, his body was insanely close to yours, you felt his breath in your face as he lifted your chin with his finger "there's nothing i wouldn't do for you, got that, dumbass?"

for a brief moment, the taste of his lips was all you could think about. i bet they're soft. but as fast as it started, it was over, katsuki pulled away harshly, inventing an excuse to leave. he had flown too close to the sun, so close that it burned his skin.

a few more people went to see you that day, asking for diverse permissions, advice and stuff like that. since it had been slow, compared to other times, you decided to home early. a call to your team, and the car was already outside. bakugou left instructions for your departure, because he had things to do somewhere else, much to his displeasure. you were accompanied by your escorts to the doors of the building, that seemed like a normal office compound. there were waiting two other guards, making a total of six people protecting you. way to go, bakugou.

"how's your wife, ryota?" you asked the driver. of course, not everyone fitted in the same car, so you got into the second one, middle seat, between a built up woman and a big man. you tried to remember everyone's name, but it was difficult.

"she's good, ma'am, sends her regards" he smiled at you over the mirror.

"and the baby? he must be a month old, right?" at the memory of his child, his face lightened "you should take some days off, i bet your wife and son miss you"

"i have a duty with you, m–" a loud impact interrupted him, the front glass had exploded. the car had an abrupt movement back and forward, all you could see was blood, everywhere.

the woman next to you took her gun out, in order to protect you , you thought, completely wrong. before everyone could react to her act, she shot the guard in front of you.  you looked at your side, searching for someone alive, the same bullet that had killed ryota was in the guard's at your right forehead. besides you , the only other person was that woman. if she hadn't glasses on, that stare could've seen throughout your soul. then you remembered, katsuki made you bare with a knife under your sleeve. with a weird move, you felt its sharpness against your skin, it was there, but she read you like a book. before you could even pull it out, another shot stroke followed by a intense pain in you thight. the bitch had shot you. you blamed it on the adrenaline, because nothing hurt. what happened after was a couple of blurry images in your memory.

bakugou had called you more than a hundred times, you, the drivers, the guards, everyone in his fucking team, but no one knew anything. the cameras at your house never showed you arriving, your phone's location was off. he was out of his head, if he didn't hear from you in the next five minutes, someone's going to die. he rushed into his car, following your rout at a dangerous speed. 

both cars were full of bullet holes, and every guard he had hired was dead. there wasn't a place without blood. tears of pure rage came to his eyes, fuck, it was his fault. he started to look for you, but the whole world was spinning around him. where were you? where was your body? were you alive?, this couldn't be happening. he had left you unprotected, alone, and now you could be dead, because of his uselessness. his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"sir, we– we have– the kazuhito's are here" he left as fast as he came. they had touch you, they had taken you away from him, and he wasn't going to let them get away with it, even if he had to go against a whole army, whoever was behind it all was going to pay.

a man in a suit was sitting in the chair of your office, smoking a cigarette, as calm as a rock. katsuki was so close to rip his head of right there, that somebody had to hold him down. his own people updated him, saying that he had gone into the building alone, with no weapons of any kind, not even a cellphone.

"where the fuck is she?" he crashed his hand against the desk.

"ah, mr. bakugou, please take a se–"

"tell me where she is right now if you want to keep your head, fucking bastard" his hand had wondered to the tip of the gun in his belt, menacing to blow up at any second.

"you won't do that, mr., if i don't return to my people in one hour, she'll be so fucked up that not even you will recognize her" a laugh surge grom bakugou, a dark, cold laugh.

"i don't have to kill you, then" one of the man's hand rested in the desk, like asking for katsuki to rip it off his body. as you did, he also carried knifes under his shirt. in less than a second, one of them was buried into the man's hand. he screamed, both in shock and pain, giving your bodyguard a hatred look. "what do you want, shitface?"

"i-it's quite simple, actually" his face was white as paper, and even though he wanted to talk normally, his voice shivered "we want you to take over the y/l/n's business, under our command of course" he let out a sigh, trying to keep his composure and ignoring his bleeding hand "if you– if you agree, she will have to leave japan and never..."

bakugou won't agree to that. not now and not ever. to give away what you and your father built from scratch, and spent decades keeping safe, was like killing your child, and your father's memory. to send you away, alone, where he most likely won't see you again in years, was also off the table. it wasn't funny anymore. he started walking around the man's chair, picking up his sleeves. he checked the clock in the office, he had forty-five minutes with the man, meaning, forty-five minutes to make him talk. he ressourced to every fast interrogation method he knew. the people outside the door weren't surprised when they heard the man's screams, even wondering what had taken so long for the boss to start acting. katsuki was never a patient man. his senses were blocked, he couldn't hear anything but screams and begging, all his eyes could see was pain through all the man's body, his hands felt nothing but warm blood. but for the first time in a while, he wasn't enjoying it. he was doing it out of need, the need to save you. every minute that went by, was a minute were your life risked. he never felt so close to losing his sanity.

"outside the city! she's in one of our safe houses outside the city! i don't know which, please stop!" ten minutes before the timeline he finally gave up. your intelligence had all their safe houses, storages, garages, every location needed. not a second passed when one of yours men delivered a map with all the points marked. there were five in total.

"throw him outside in ten minutes" he shouted, walking to the armory "two teams, six people each, my fucking people, hear me? now, dammit! we're leaving in a minute, if i have to go by my fucking self, i'll do it"

when he was armed to the teeth, almost a dozen of people followed him outside. they were his most trusted men and women, being trained together, he knew they were as skilled as him, and they were all willing to put their life's at stake for you, their boss. in the car, bakugou barked the instructions. he had narrowed it down to two possible locations with all the information he had. if they had to kill every person in those places, then be it. he's going to get you back.

[my-robot-heart]

Hi, Robot!

Your fics helped me a lot while I've been struggling with post-8x22 depression (which has been worse than any reaction I've ever had to the end of any other show I watched), so I was very excited when I saw that prompt list that you've reblogged, knowing that something fantastic was going to come out of it. And I was right: the prompts-inspired ficlets you've written today have been an absolute joy to read for me, especially the one I requested and the ones melbob and Pumpkin did)

(Besides, I found out that I absolutely adore drunk Red, whether he's hilariously boisterous or quietly pensive, and would actually like to see more of that side of him)

I'd like to end this ask with another prompt of mine – or, rather, an idea that came to me while I reread the list – but don't feel obliged to write it if you don't have enough time/inspiration.

The prompt I'm talking about is "i didn’t mean the things i said."

And the idea is that during one of her angry episodes Liz had thrown a lot of hurtful words and accusations at Red, blamed him for everything bad that's ever happened in her life – you know, the usual stuff – etc. and Red took it all silently, without a single complaint or attempt to defend himself. Later, once she's cooled down and became capable of thinking straight again, Liz felt guilty for lashing out at Red like that (because, rationally, she understands that not all of the hell her life has been through is because of him) and came to his safe-house to apologize and reassure him that what she told him while she was angry is not how she feels about him – hence the prompt phrase above – but the problem is that Red thinks that she was right, to a certain extent, that he is to blame for most part of the pain and the loss she's experienced and that he would understand her if she hated him and didn't want him to meddle with her life any more than he's already did. To think of it, perhaps, after Liz stormed off Red decided that it would really be better for her if he kept his distance – even though it would probably kill him – so by the time Liz arrives to apologize Red is already packed up and ready to go, to leave her – well, to leave her side, because he would make sure she was alive and well and safe even from a distance – forever and it’s up to Liz to convince him that she actually wants just the opposite?

Oops... That got pretty long... But I've just pictured it all so clearly in my head the words poured out themselves.

Omg Di 😂😂👏👏 are you... sure you didn't already write this yourself like this is beautiful????

Haha. I read it a few times and it just got me right in the feels. How about a tiny ficlet that comes right at the end of what you've described, because I feel like you already put in the backstory and it's just perfect.

Ps this gif has nothing to do with the fic but it's a fave and let's just agree with Red for a sec that yes, shipping IS his bizness. Lol.

Liz arrived at the safe house, breathless and not quite knowing what she would say. All she knew is that she needed to apologize before- what? She didn't want to think too hard about what. She carefully typed in the combination Red had made her memorize for just such an occasion and- the door didn't open.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and tried again. Still nothing. Okay she had one more chance to try and then the door and then it would alert Red that someone was trying to break in.

She typed in the numbers slowly. It didn't work. Shit.

She was just trying to decide if she should grab her phone or her gun when the door opened from the inside. Red was standing there, holding his gun.

"Lizzie- what?!" He hurriedly replaced the gun in his holster and typed a code into the lock. Then he ushered her inside.

"Sorry Red, the code wasn't working and I-" her eyes came to rest on a large piece of luggage. She looked from that to him. He-- he was... leaving?

"Yes I know the code wasn't working. I changed it before I left." He sounded tired.

"L-left? Red where were you going? And why didn't you-"

His face fell and she remembered why she'd come. What she'd said. And how she'd stormed off, declaring that she would have been happier if she'd never met his meddling, catastrophe bringing self. I wish I'd never met you. Those had been her exact words. Oh god. Oh no. But- he had to have known, hadn't he? He must have understood that this was just something she said when she was upset, but it wasn't how she actually felt. Oh god, he didn't know. He thought she meant it. And now he was-

"Oh no. Red, I- can we sit down?" She sounded desperate, even to herself. He saw this, and after hesitating he gestured to her to take a seat on one of the chairs. He sat on another.

"It's fine, Lizzie-" he began, and his voice was full of resignation. "There's no need to explain."

"Yes there is. There is a need to explain," she protested, trying to calm down and speak clearly.

"Elizabeth," he said then, and the use of her full name brought with it a sense of finality that scared her. "It's okay. You were right. About everything. I'm... a danger in your life. I never should have tried to have such an active part in it. I should have - I will be better able to keep you safe... from a distance. Dembe has the jet ready to leave this morning. Cooper had already been notified. He'll be able to reach me by phone, if needed. But otherwise- I will leave your life just as quickly as I entered it. And I promise, I swear, that you won't have to worry about my meddling or putting you in danger, because that's- well it's the last thing I ever wanted."

She watched as he tried to keep his expression neutral, but she saw the flash of pain in his eyes before he hid it, and her heart nearly broke.

"But that's- it's not what I want," she said softly. "I came here to apologize. And to- tell you something. Will you let me do that?"

He glanced at the time, before inclining his head for her to continue.

"First of all," she began slowly, "I don't- hate you. And when I said I wished I'd never met you, well- that wasn't true either. I know it's hard for you to believe, especially when I've said some... horrible things. But- I was just angry, Red. I was frustrated and scared and... I took it out on you. But the truth is..."

Here she swallowed nervously, wishing she'd had something to drink or hold, to distract her from.how her fingers appeared to be trembling. She clasped her hands together to try to stop it.

"The truth is," she said slightly more confidently, "You are the most infuriating, conceited, pretentious, annoyingly almost always right, beautiful, incredible, amazing man I have ever met. And the thought of you leaving because I didn't have the courage to tell you how I felt about you, how I've always felt about you, makes me want to-to- do this," and she got up from her seat and joined him on his, without thinking too much or too long, and kissed him.

She kissed him for a long time. At first, she felt him freeze beneath her, and she worried she might have gravely misjudged the situation. He'd been ready to leave, she remembered with worry. Maybe he didn't want her to-

But then. Then he responded. She felt his hands come up to the sides of her face, fingers lacing through the hair at the back of her head. She felt him relax and give in to what was happening, his mouth letting her in and responding in kind.

And she knew. She knew that she'd been right. About everything.

After a long moment she pulled away slightly, momentarily distracted by the patterns he was gently tracing along her spine. She let out a small sigh, and he stopped, regarding her carefully.

"Maybe-" she began, hesitantly, and he placed a kiss along her hairline.

"Yes, Lizzie?" He breathed.

"Maybe you should text Dembe and let him know you won't be needing the jet today."

He smiled.